#but yeah I kinda wanna adjust his hair at the very least

[creaturefeaster]

And what happened to the blonde you were looking for a name for!? (the one with the churro in his hairstyle)

Oh, Wayne I believe is what was decided upon.

I'm trying to rework his design a little bit, so I don't have a recent doodle of him at the moment.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: toxicbf!seungcheol, more like possessivebf!seungcheol honestly, he's kinda a dick but not THAT much, jealousy, possessive behavior, afab reader, reader mentioned to be shorter than him, smut, penetrative sex, public sex, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 2201

a/n: tysm to the person who requested this <3 i didn't make him super toxic but more possessive and annoying.

masterlist

"shit, baby. you look so good. any plans tonight?" seungcheol hugged you from behind as you stared into the mirror, doing the finishing touches on your hair.

'"what do you mean if i have plans? we're going out. to the monthly meeting with the guys, remember? seokmin's girlfriend said she's coming too"

"hmm? since when? wait, hold on. you're wearing that to dinner with the boys?"

you groaned against him, "you literally just said i looked good. what's the problem?", you already kind of had an idea, but wanted to confirm for some dumb reason.

"yeah, that's when i thought you were going out with the girls or something. do you have to dress like this when you hang out with the guys?"

you knew cheol was a bit on the ... possessive side. he would sometimes be a little too jealous when it came to you being around the guys too much (around any guy, really). despite always confirming to him that you would never look at any of them as more than friends, he would still keep his guard up. it was endearing at times, seeing as it was usually just lighthearted jealousy, but he was doing a really good job at pissing you off right now.

you turned around, now facing him directly, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"baby, cmon! they're guys! and you're ... well, you're you!"

"did you want me to repeat myself or are you actually gonna explain what that's supposed to mean now?"

"listen. you're so beautiful. i had no chance at resisting you when we first met. imagine if i'd met you while you were wearing a tiny little black dress. i would've lost my mind. they're men, baby. they're weak-minded. i dont wanna let them even see you like this." despite the stupid neanderthal logic he was feeding you with, his reasoning gave you a slight ego-boost, dissipating your annoyance a bit.

you approached him, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt as you adjusted his tie - today's theme for the monthly meeting had been strictly formal, courtesy of a hong jisoo – and stared into his eyes, flirtatious smile gracing your lips.

"cheollie ... the dress code's formal. and i know how strict you guys are about that. if you can wear those stupid leather pants on stage while performing for carats, – who, by the way, do wanna fuck you – i can wear a tiny little dress around my very platonic friends."

you were pretty sure seungcheol had tuned you out already, at least judging from how distracted his hands had become now that they were kneading your ass under the short skirt of the dress. in any other circumstances you would've entertained him, maybe even let him fuck you before leaving home, but you weren't about to reward his stupid comments from earlier with sex. separating yourself from him, you chided at him, telling him to get ready, because you'd be leaving together; with no need to change your clothes.

~

upon arriving to the restaurant of choice - an entirely rented out luxury restaurant joshua had seemingly been eyeing for a while - you and a sulky seungcheol (he had brought up the dress issue again in the car) quickly spotted a table full of people. it was all twelve members of seventeen, plus joshua's and seokmin's girlfriends, who would also be making their debut appearance at the monthly dinner. as expected, the boys were all wearing suit and tie, while the girls had dresses on. you had to admit, maybe yours was a bit more provocative, but you felt comfortable since you would only be around close friends.

the moment they spotted you walking in, jeonghan took the liberty of standing up, looking you up and down before smirking and giving you a quick hug, even going as far as pulling out a chair for you to sit. you appreciated the gesture, taking a seat and thanking him, completely ignoring seungcheol's annoyed grumble along the lines of 'i'm supposed to do that'.

the dinner went pretty okay after that, with one or two complimentary comments directed at your apparel. you'd also noticed a few of the boys staring a bit more than usual, but you'd dressed up, after all, so it wasn't very surprising to you. seungcheol, on the other hand, grew more and more annoyed every time a member directed themselves to you, even if it was with innocent intentions. he had built an idea in his head that everyone mustve wanted you the way that he wanted you. it also didn't help that you were sitting right by jeonghan and mingyu, members who were renown for being a bit flirtier than the rest. you knew it was just in their nature, and completely meaningless when directed towards you, but you could feel your boyfriend's fumes increase next to you as the night went on.

after a while seungcheol had begun to speak over you, acting as if you couldn't respond or interact with his members on your own. he was beginning to show his annoyingly possessive side, acting overly overprotective over you, almost as if you were a prize to keep under lock and key.

there were only a few instances in which he did this. he could sometimes act like a dick about it, wanting to show the rest of the guys how you were his and no one else's

then came what broke the camel's back. yoon jeonghan must've sensed some tension in seuncheol's behavior, adding two and two and figuring out that his possessive friend must've been feeling some type of way at any attention headed your way. so, he decided to have fun with it, amping up his flirting.

"shit, have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?," he smirked, eyeing his friend a bit as he complimented you.

"yeah, but maybe don't say that to my girlfriend, yeah?", interjected your stupid boyfriend, hand on your thigh as he attempted to show possession over you.

you ignored him, "oh, thanks hannie. you look really handsome too."

he puffed, as if out of breath, also ignoring cheol's comment, "no, but really. that dress is ... man, all i know is if i were seungcheol we wouldn't have even left the house tonight," the smirk wouldn't leave his face, knowing he was poking a bear.

those two simple comments were enough to get seungcheol to snap, loudly getting up and interrupting any other conversation going on at the table. without any other word, he completely ignored any questioning stares or inquiring comments and grabbed your hand, dragging you from your own chair and pulling you away from the room and into a more secluded area of the almost-empty restaurant.

"seungcheol what the hell are you doing?!"

he turned to you, now letting go of the hand he'd been pulling, "i told you not to wear that around them! do you think i enjoyed that?!"

"it's just jeonghan, cheol! he doesn't mean anything by it. he was just trying to tease you."

"i dont care about that! you're mine. you're not supposed to show yourself off like this to other men!" the fact he didn't see issue with what he was saying was peeving you off, making you scoff at him before he continued.

"you're mine, okay? and you responding to han's flirting is not helping me get that point across to them."

"you-"

"no, let me finish," he moved closer to you the more he spoke, eventually having you pinned against the wall of the restaurant, looking down on you, "i won't have any of them even think they have a chance with you. no one does. you're mine. is that understood?" by now his lips were just a hair away from your ear, heavy breath fanning against you as his hands slid onto your waist, pulling you against him, dick already semi-hard under his slacks.

you hated the way he was talking to you. kind of. an embarrassing part of yourself was keening on his possessiveness, enjoying how he felt as if he had to stake claim over you. as if even one look from another man had him having to show the world you were his and his alone.

when he unglued his lips from your ear and went back to staring down at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, neither of you could help yourselves anymore. you might've kissed him first, but it was probably him who crashed his lips into you first, almost swallowing you whole as he attacked you by shoving his tongue in your mouth.

he became intense with his movements pretty quickly, unbuttoning his pants with one hand while the other harshly felt you up. he disconnected his hand from you for a moment in order to pull down his pants and knead at his cock for a few moments, getting himself ready for you.

he disconnected your lips, chuckling at the way yours chased after his, "get on your knees."

with zero type of dignity, you got on your knees with no question, beginning to slide your hand up and down his dick before wrapping your mouth around his tip and sucking, giving him eyes as you did so.

he groaned at the sight, but quickly recovered, barking out a command for you to be a well-behaved girl and take it all in your mouth. you followed instruction pretty quickly, loving the weight of his cock in your mouth.

"that's it ... knew you could be a good girl after all."

"fuck ... that mouth is all mine, right baby? only for me to choke on my cock .."

"take it deeper, i know you can. trained that pretty mouth to take me."

his words were getting you wetter by the second, moaning mindlessly against his dick as he began to thrust into your mouth, groaning out even more expletives.

he suddenly pulled you away without allowing you to suck him into completion, once more slamming your back against the wall and shoving his tongue in your mouth. you both groaned at the feeling of his taste in your tongue, eventually making the kiss become a mess of wet tongues just licking at one another while he ground his hard dick against you.

you cried against him after a while of dry humping, feeling the heat of his cock so close to where you wanted him, but your mind being too empty for you to even beg for him to put it inside you.

he pulled away, "are you gonna be good and let me have that pretty pussy? my pretty pussy?"

all you could do was nod and whine against him as he pulled your panties aside, only having to lift your dress a tiny bit to give him room to enter your warm walls. you both sighed out in pleasure the moment he entered you, with cheol quickly finding a rhythm that had you throwing your head back against the wall, not caring for any pain you felt at the impact.

"you're mine. do you understand that? no one else can have you. can't even look at you. tell me you understand." he paused for a moment, smirking as he knew you had no way to respond with the pace in which he was slamming himself against you, "what? no answer? baby, what'd i tell you about being a good girl?" he was mocking you now, relishing on the effect he had on you.

"c-cheollie ... y-yours! just yours! won't ev-ever look their way again. pro- ah! promise!" you did the best you could to muster out an answer, being too high on pleasure from the way his cock was repeatedly hitting against you, impaling you completely.

your emotions were already very heightened, causing the two of you to be quick to reach your ends.

"gonna fill you up, okay baby? and you're gonna keep it all in, or else imma have to take you home and do it all over again, yeah?" he groaned out, knowing he was about to blow his load any second now.

"y-yes! fill me up, please!"

a few thrusts later and he was burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning out at the feeling of your walls tightening against him as you came.

you attempted to catch your breath as seungcheol used his fingers to push in any cum that exited your hole, moving your panties back into place to try and retain the most he could. with no warning, he shoved those same fingers in your mouth, making you suck his essence from them as he groaned at the sight.

"c'mon," he gave you no time to catch your breath or recover before dragging you by the hand once more, walking back to the table to pick up your coats.

"i'm taking her home now. yoon jeonghan, i'll deal with you later," and with that he dragged you away, making no effort to hide your disheveled state as you limped behind him, beyond embarrassed all your friends knew what you and your boyfriend had been up to.

if cheol had wanted to make a public service announcement about how much you were his, he had achieved it.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 26th:  Corroded Coffin | I Wanna Be Somebody - W.A.S.P. | Hopeful a/n: descriptions of anxiety & grounding, rockstar!eddie, supportive!uncle wayne, established steddie. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

Corroded Coffin gets its first gig outside of Gareth’s garage on a random Tuesday in October 1985. 

It’s a small place, a true hole in the wall, the exact kind of place Eddie Munson imagines James Hetfield might’ve seen back in Metallica’s earliest days. There are maybe five people in the crowd outside of the bartender and servers, but those are five more people than have ever heard them play before. 

Jeff, Freak, and Gareth are goofing around backstage, tuning instruments, pushing and shoving playfully, the excitement palpable. Eddie wants to join in but his heart and his stomach seem to have swapped places. Nauseous, shaky, and terrified, he can’t bring himself to shake it off with his friends and finds himself sitting in the corner, back to the wall. 

An apt metaphor, really. 

He feels caged, stuck, panicked– a lion trapped in too small of a space if the lion was also secretly afraid of its one and only concrete talent being judged as not good enough by strangers. 

“Alright, Ed, take a breath with me, okay?” Wayne appears out of nowhere, grunting as he sits on the grody floor next to Eddie. 

A familiar, calloused hand gently pulls Eddie’s fingers out of his hair, a position he doesn’t realize he’s in until Wayne pulls him out of it. He turns to face his Uncle and breathes with him the same way he had as an anxious little kid before the talent show, as the new kid in school, as the now fledgling adult who still needs comfort, reputation and appearance be damned. 

Eddie closes his eyes and lets Wayne squeeze his hand to cute inhalation and exhalation. One day, he’ll think to ask him where the fuck he got that from, but not today. Today, he needs to calm down enough to perform with his friends. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

“Feelin’ better?” Wayne asks, patting Eddie’s knee with his free hand. 

Eddie nods and lets his eyes flutter open. It feels like waking up as he adjusts back to the noise and light he’d managed to tune out. “I think so, yeah. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so scared as shit but yeah. Not okay.” 

Wayne scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s your first show, Ed. ‘S alright to be a little keyed up. You’re gonna be fine though, just go out there and have fun with it.” 

“You’ll stay for the show?” Eddie asks, a little more hopeful. Seeing Wayne in the audience during the talent show all those years ago set his nerves at ease. Seeing Wayne in the audience at The Hideout might do the same. 

“Nah, figured I’d just stop by to talk you off the ledge and head on home. Of course I’m stayin’, what kinda Uncle do you think I am?” 

Eddie and Corroded Coffin play their first gig to a crowd of about five drunks and one Uncle Wayne. It’s not perfect– Eddie trips over a microphone wire at least once and they each miss a cue here and there– but they finish to applause. The loudest of which comes from Uncle Wayne. 

—

Over the years, Corroded Coffin ebbs and flows. When Eddie nearly dies, the band does too for a bit but, like Eddie, reanimates after some left dormant. The members stay the same, the name stays the same, the sound stays the same. What changes is the audience. 

Apparently, the metal community is very interested in Eddie’s Lazarus-adjacent story coupled with wrongful accusations and a suburban witch hunt. Interested enough for the band to start getting noticed. The Hideout turns into The Vogue, and then the Old National Centre, and then the TCU Amphitheater. At each one, Eddie feels the same nerves he had at their first gig, and maybe even a bit more so now with his Upside Down injuries always at the back of his mind. 

What if I pull something?

What if my leg gives out?

What if– 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, leaning against the wall next to Eddie. “It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?” 

Eddie nods and chews on the piece of hair he’s pulled in front of his face. 

He doesn’t know that, actually, but it’s not something he wants to rehash right now. Besides, Steve more than anyone can understand his running monologue more than most. He’d been there, been the one to carry him out, and since they started dating, has been the one to lull him back to sleep when the memories jar him awake. 

But Wayne’s not here yet, probably stuck in traffic after leaving the factory early for the show, and Eddie doesn’t know how to prepare for a show without his guided breathing. 

Every rockstar has a ritual, and that’s his. 

“I know I’m no Wayne but, wanna try breathing with me?” Steve offers with a sheepish smile. 

He nods again, still silent, and breathes. This time, softer hands holding his and cueing his inhalations and exhalations. It’s not the same, but it’s something. Enough to calm his racing heart to the point of words and with a shout from Jeff and a kiss from Steve, he takes the biggest stage he’s played yet. 

Halfway through their set, Eddie sees movement in the corner of his eye and when he dares a glance, he sees Uncle Wayne standing next to Steve in his dusty flannel with a beaming smile. 

The nerves disappear. 

[gaybananabread]

Can you do Stan, Ford, and Bill (gravity falls) headcanons? If not that’s completely fine! Take your time!!

☆⑅Felony Trio Headcanons⑅⁠☆

(Stan, Ford & Bill)

~No idea if these three have an actual group name or not, but this is what I'm going with. You can't tell me they haven't committed at least one a piece, accidentally and/or on purpose. These sillies will always have a special place in my heart as one of my earlier obsessions. Thank you for requesting!~

❓Stanley💵

General:

Silly con-man gives me ler-leaning switch vibes. Loves wrecking his family, but wouldn’t mind the occasional giggle-fest.

Over the years, he’s developed the elusive “can say the t-word whenever” power, though it definitely didn’t used to be that way. Ford reminds him of that whenever it’s most annoying.

Can easily admit that he likes tickling others, but receiving it? Yeah, good luck. He’s willing to die on that hill.

Lee:

A bit rare, but he will get lee moods. He’s a “ride it out in silence” kinda guy, but Ford can sometimes catch onto his bullshit (definitely not bc he does it too what-)

If he DOES try and solve his problem, it’ll be in the most roundabout way possible. Provoking his brother, teasing his great niece and nephew until they try something, you name it. If it works, it works.

Worst spots are his armpits and the area right beneath his belly button. Enjoy watching him lose his mind if you target either one ♡

Melt spot is his ears. You can’t tell me his goofy ears wouldn’t make him giggle his heart out; he’d love every second of it.

Very gruff, choppy giggles. Sounds kinda like he’s been chain smoking, then saw the funniest thing in his life. When you really get him going, deep and rough belly laughter. Occasional snorts if you wanna kill him.

Ler:

When he gets in a ler mood, he’ll either bother his overworking brother or mess with one of the kids. Sometimes his family can tell, though he won’t normally admit anything.

Such a wonderful asshole of a ler-

Teases, smart-ass comments, horrible dad jokes, and more! Definitely the one to go to if you want a shameless wrecking.

“You’re a lil’ squeak toy, huh? I just squeeze your side and- yup, just like that.”

“Ya know, you could’ve just pushed me away by now. Don’t worry, I noticed.”

“You sure squirm a lot, don'tcha? Like a lil’ worm, could use you as fishing bait!”

“It tickles? Wow, that must really suck for you.”

Pretty good with aftercare. He'll ruffle your hair and tease you, of course, but he lets you lay on him while the TV plays. Fair trade, honestly.

👓Stanford🖋️

General:

Can you really tell me he isn't at least a little lee? After all those years with little to no comforting contact, he loves a good giggle fest.

Making his great niece and nephew laugh, though? Even better.

He doesn't always get that feeling, so I'm going lee-leaning switch.

Lee:

If you even mention it around him, he'll blush, no matter his mood. It's real bad when he's lee.

You can kinda gauge if he's in a mood by just saying the t-word (if you can, that is)

If you don't have that magic, then he's still pretty obvious in other ways.

Extra stuttering, constantly adjusting his glasses, eyes lingering on your hands, wobbly smiles. If you've got eyes, you'll be able to tell.

Will deny it at first, but it's pretty flimsy.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about. I survived the roughest interdimensional plane there is. I don't need…that.”

He falls apart the minute you wiggle your fingers at him.

Worst spots are his hips, followed by his ribs. A few squeezes to either will have him snorting up a storm.

Melt spots are his ears and the tops of his thighs. Like his brother, his ears are lovely to run a feather across for both him and the ler. He loves gentle traces on his thighs, though. Have him a melted, giggling puddle in seconds.

He loses tickle fights on purpose at least 76.4% of the time. Don’t ask me how I got that number: I just know.

Ler:

His ler moods are rare, but if he’s feeling a bit distant from his family, he’ll try and piece things with some giggles.

Soft, playful ler. He never wants to go too far, but he isn’t afraid to goof around and tease while he’s at it.

“I think I’ve got a leg up here, huh? Thanks to my extra fingers, this has gotta be at least 20% more ticklish~”

“You really do blush quite a lot. It’s pretty cute to watch.”

“As a scientist, it’s my job to conduct experiments. Let’s try now. Hypothesis: if I get your worst spot, you’ll laugh at least twice as loud as you are now. Time for the experiment~”

The moment you say stop, even if you don’t mean it, he pulls away. If you want more, you’ll have to ask him.

Pretty great with aftercare. Will absolutely cuddle you, maybe even tell some stories if you’re interested. He’s got plenty from his time in the portal, though he keeps the angstier ones to himself. Any tale he tells is almost guaranteed to make you smile.

🎩Bill💛

General:

Believe it or not, the chaotic dorito does like tickling. In fact, after him and Mabel’s interaction, they seem to randomly plague his thoughts at the most inopportune times. It goes in either direction, his moods as random as his personality.

Considering this, we’re gonna go straight-up switch.

Lee:

These moods are especially hard for the demon to satiate. His friends are insane, but none completely batshit enough to try something like tickling him. When he needs a fix, he usually has to outsource it or suffer until it goes away.

On the off chance he does outsource, he goes for one of the Pines twins. They’re hesitant to let him in, but he’s a sweet-talker. Once he’s inside, it barely takes an hour for him to provoke someone into wrecking him.

His spots vary based on the body he’s inhabiting. The one time he was tickled in his own (Weirdmageddon incident, don’t ask), he found that his hat and feet got him laughing the most.

(don’t come at me, his hat re-grew flesh when he got shot in it)

He doesn’t really have a distinct melt spot, though he loves being tickled right beneath his bowtie. It makes him kick and squirm, but it also makes him incredibly giddy.

Ler:

I’d tell you to run for your life, but it won’t do you much good.

Evil, sarcastic and rough ler. Good luck breathing o7

The kinda dude to go for all your worst spots first, and only explore the softer side if he’s wanting to spice things up.

Can and will generate any tool he feels like to wreck you (surprisingly enough, he’ll ask first)

Boundaries really need to be set before anything happens. Otherwise he’ll just go until he feels like stopping. If you look on the brink of passing out, he’ll quit, but other than that nah.

VERY teasy, with a large handful of sarcasm and sass.

“Geez, you laugh really loud when I get ya here. Mind dialing it down? I don’t wanna go deaf before I’m 20 million.”

“Ha! You snort? I’ve gotta hear that again, c’mon!”

“You’re confusing. You say ‘no, go away,’ but you haven’t even tried escaping. I’m supposed to be the crazy one here; mind explaining?”

“Wow, this is driving you nuts, huh? We’re gonna match!”

Not super great at aftercare unless you ask. He can make any snack or drink you want by snapping, and he knows some great rom-coms to doze off to (don’t ask why unless you wanna go for round two).

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 2- Blue Light Fright Night

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a party-hating ghost, not new friends and new enemies, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

"I can't believe it," Ford scowled as he restocked the snowglobe shelf. Little mini Mystery Shacks mocked him as they sat beside glass-encased Waddleses. How did Grunkle Dipper even get question mark-shaped glitter for these? "Gnomes on our first day- then we don't see jack!"

"Maybe we fought the gnomes so well they told the rest of the forest to be scared of us?" Stan polished the body parts jars on the other side of the aisle. 

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit."

"Hey-" Stan kicked him in the shin. Ford kicked back without thinking, focused on trying to get all the snowglobes lined up perfectly. "Maybe we're just looking in the wrong places? It's only been three days since gnome-pocalypse."

"We're not calling it 'gnome-pocalypse'. It was only a hundred or so gnomes. An apocalypse would require at least a thousand." He was rounding down as well. 

"Fine. What are we gonna call it then?"

"Uh-" 

"So are you guys coming to the party tonight?" Carla interrupted as she came around the corner, her nametag pinned to the front of her pink shirt and a flower in her hair. 

"Party?" Ford looked at her, setting down the final snowglobe. 

"Yeah!" Carla beamed and did a little dance in place, hopping from one foot to the other. "It's at the high school gym- the local sheriff sets up one every month for all the teens and it's super fun. You should totally come and meet all my friends- it'll be awesome!"

Ford's breath caught in his throat, an indescribable mixture of wonder and excitement filling him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. A real invitation to a real party. They'd never had one before! And here Carla was, offering an invitation like they were normal . Like it didn't matter that Ford had six fingers and Stan had the school record for detentions. 

"Yeah, we'll definitely be there!" He blurted out immediately, unwilling to let the opportunity of a lifetime slip by. "Wow, this is so exciting- Stanley, our first party!"

"Have you… never been to a party before?" Carla's face fell. 

" Pfft - of course we have," Stanley jumped in, waving a hand. "He just means in Gravity Falls, yunno. Jersey parties are really different so-"

"Oh, totally. But get ready, a Gravity Falls party is gonna knock your socks off!" Carla was all smiles again. Ford could see the reason why Grunkle Dipper had her as a cashier, she had a very upbeat demeanour that seemed popular with the tourists. The way she talked to them, able to get them smiling and laughing and telling her stories about their travels, she made it look so easy. Like talking to people was easy. Ford wondered how she did it. 

Maybe if he asked, she'd let him observe and record her interactions for science?

"Earth to Sixer-" Stanley poked him in the face and Ford spluttered, swatting at his hand. "You okay in there?"

'I'm fine!" Ford looked around and adjusted his glasses. "Where'd Carla go?"

"A tour finished so she's gone to do her charm offensive on getting them to buy junk," Stan shrugged. "Are you sure you want to go to a party?"

"Yeah!" Was that even a question? "Don't you? Why did you lie to Carla? We've never been invited anywhere before."

"Listen, Fordsy," Stanley put an arm around his shoulders. "When people invite you to do stuff you haven't done, you gotta pretend you have, or else they'll think 'wow, what kinda losers are those guys, never going to parties'. You wanna be in the in-crowd, go along with the popular decision if you don't wanna stand out."

"How do you know that?" Ford scrunched his nose. It seemed unnecessarily complicated, wouldn't honesty be the best policy in any conversation?

"Just makes sense," Stan shrugged. "Now Carla won't be thinking, 'those guys must be lame', she'll be thinking we're cool dudes back home."

"But we're not?"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't say that." Stan patted his back. "Do you really wanna go?"

"Of course! This is a chance to meet the wider population of Gravity Falls, and I bet with all the anomalies in this area, I won't even be the weirdest thing anyone's seen today!" He'd always wanted to go to a party. Like a regular kid. Maybe Gravity Falls wasn't so bad. 

"You're not weird," Stan scowled. "If any of them give you trouble I'll hit them."

"Stanley, mom said one week. You still have three more days." Ford reminded him. 

"Blegh-" Stanley stuck out his tongue. "Now we just gotta convince Grunkle Dipper to let us go."

"Why would we need to convince him? Surely he'll understand how important this is to our preteen social development."

#

"Not a chance." Dipper didn't even look up from the pasta sauce he was stirring. 

"What?!" They yelled in unison, Ford looking like all his dreams crashed and burned and Stan slamming his hands on the kitchen table. He hid a wince. Toughen up, Stan. Be a man. 

"It's a cop party, no nephews of mine are going to a cop party." 

"Grunkle Dipper, do you have something against cops?" Stan had to ask.

"I didn't agree to more questions."

So the answer was a yes. Cool. 

"But Grunkle Dipper-" Ford whined. "We've never been to a party before and we told Carla we'd be there. Please?"

"Okay, here's the thing." Dipper turned around and pointed his pasta spoon at them, pajama pants and a threadbare sweater on. It was silly. It had a puppy on it. "Grenda throws these parties once a month for all the teens in town, and because everyone's kids are there, all the townsfolk treat it as a social event. It's loud, annoying, and seriously not worth your time."

"But we could be party rocking in the house tonight." Ford said it with all the sincerity in his soul and Stan wanted to know how his nerd of a brother had found out about songs that weren't from the 1700s or whenever.

"What?" Dipper's face scrunched before he shook it off and went back to mixing pasta sauce and spaghetti. "Let me explain: I don't 'like' or 'trust' most of the people in this town, and the feeling's pretty mutual. Why don't you just have a party here? This is a house, it can- it can 'party rock'."

"Can we invite people?" Ford perked up.

"No."

"Grunkle Dipper!"

Stan hid a snort-laugh as he watched, studying Dipper more so than Ford, head tilted to make sure he didn't miss anything. There had to be a magic word of some sort to get him to agree. He didn't trust the townspeople, hey?

"If you don't like anyone here-" he cut off Ford's rant about the 'psychosocial development of twelve-year-old brains' before it really got going- "then the smartest option is to bring us into town when everyone's gonna be there." Stan shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, playing up the casualness. 

Dipper looked at him with suspicion. "What's your game, kid?"

"That way you can point out who to avoid and who we should keep an eye on so we can recognise them. I mean, we're gonna need to go into town eventually, might as well get it over with."

"... Alright, that's not a bad point." Dipper nodded, brow furrowed. Stan gave him an absolutely angelic smile, well practiced for when mom busted out the camera for family photos, and Dipper's brows furrowed harder.

"So can we go? Carla invited us as well, it would look bad if we went back on our word. And you said you wanted us to have a good summer."

"Okay, okay, okay." Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, serving up three plates of spaghetti as he joined them at the table. "You can go, but if Sheriff Grenda asks about me, tell her I'm dead or whatever."

"Yes!" Stan punched the air. "Yes!"

"What?! How is that the conclusion of this?" Ford looked stunned, mouth hanging open.

"Your brother drives a hard bargain, kid," Dipper pointed with a plastic spork. All his cutlery was plastic and Stan thought it was weird, no metal, no forks. But  it was the durable, colourful kind used for camping. "Eat your pasta and we'll get this over with."

Stan shoveled the pasta into his mouth, enjoying the taste of victory. Whaddaya know, for once Stan got them the win. That was never gonna happen again.

#

Ford's excitement only grew as they drove into town, staring out the window and trying to see anomalies in the dark. Stan kicked the back of the empty passenger seat and tossed his head back with a groan. "Why are we listening to BABBA?" 

"Because I love this song." Grunkle Dipper turned it up a notch and sang along, badly. Ford winced at the falsetto of "Dis-co Girl! Coming through! That girl is you!"

"Get me outta here!" Stan's next kick used both feet. "If you're listening, save me, Paul Bunyan!"

"Calm down, Stanley, we're almost there!" Ford could see all the cars parked outside the high school, and a giant RV with GIDEON across the side that towered over everything else. "What's that?"

"First people in this town you need to avoid: Gideon Gleeful and his lil b-" Dipper growled, cutting himself off before continuing- "Bud Gleeful. Gideon's the worst, they're just a creepy pair. Just got back from touring America with their fake psychic act."

"Okay." A fake psychic. Just like their mom. Ford missed her, she promised she'd call every week but it didn't feel like enough. "Anyone else?"

"Preston Northwest is about your age and a piece of work?" 

"I thought you'd have more enemies." Stan grinned mischievously.

"Those are just the child ones." Dipper hooked an elbow over his seat and looked back as he reversed into a parking space, wearing one of the baseball caps from the gift shop with a pine tree logo. His denim jacket and pajama pants clashed terribly with his 'dog playing basketball' sweater. Ford hadn't seen him wear the same sweater twice, but they all looked decades old, handknitted, and far too irrational for him. Perhaps he had some ancient sweater collection?

"How many adult enemies are there?" Stan unclipped his seatbelt as the truck stopped. 

"Don't you have a party to go to?" Dipper waved a hand at them. "Have fun and don't die or something. I'll be here when you want to leave."

"Thanks, Grunkle Dipper!" They chorused and hopped out, Stan racing around to Ford's side of the truck. 

"You ready?" He took Ford's hand for a second, and Ford snatched it back, trying not to think about his hands. It was gonna be fine, this wasn't Jersey. People here would like him. 

"Race you in?" He offered instead, shoving his hands into his pockets just in case. 

"You're on." Stan grinned and took off. He might have been better at punching, but they were both pretty fast from a childhood of dodging bullies. Usually it was a tie. 

This time Ford got there first by mere seconds and paused, able to feel the thud of the music inside in his ribcage. Of course- soundwaves were physical, that only made sense. He was about to lift his hand from his pocket before hesitating. His first party. Did he want to start off with a bad impression?

Stan caught up and pushed open the door. "After you, Sixer."

Ford smiled gratefully at him, stepping in as the smell of dry ice and cheese flavouring hit him. The gym was big, all the bleachers tucked away, and while there was no disco ball, someone had set up projector lights that sent rainbow shapes and lazers everywhere. The room was surprisingly full, and Ford had a sinking feeling they arrived late. "Were we meant to be here earlier?"

"Don't worry- it's cool to arrive late, I heard." Stanley stuck by his side as they stood in the doorway. "Should we find Carla? She's the only person we know here, I think."

Ford had a thought. A bit of a mean thought. Did he want his first impression on people to be Stanley as well? Not that Stanley was bad, Ford loved his brother more than anything, but his nicknames might give people the wrong idea, and the other way around- Maybe Stan would want to meet people without having to talk for Ford as well?

"We can split up, do a sweep on each side, and meet on the other end of the gym." He felt guilty saying it, but he couldn't help being interested in what would happen if he made introductions on his own for once. It was an experiment. 

"See who spots her first so we can talk to her, good idea." Stanley nodded. "Race you there."

He took off through the crowd to the right, leaving Ford to his own business and taking the other. He didn't move as fast as Stanley, keeping his hands in his pockets as he avoided the major crowd and skirted the edges. His head swivelled like an owl's as he looked around, trying to see anyone who might be safe to talk to. 

He saw something sparking near the wall and immediately remembered the various dangers of electrical hazards, resolving to check it and report it to the nearest grown-up- oh, but if that was Sheriff Grenda, Grunkle Dipper said not to talk to her-

Ford didn't really want to do what Dipper said, but… what if he got angry at them for disobeying?

More sparks. He blinked, regaining his focus, and sped up, noticing they were tucked beside the folded bleachers, hard for people in the crowd to see, hidden by the fog of dry ice. 

There was someone there. Two someones. Ford drew closer, in time to see a blowtorch light up and be lowered to a piece of metal. 

"What are you doing?" He blurted out, the two teenagers looking at him. It was hard to make out clear details in the dark hall, but the one leaning against the wall held a plastic bag of sliced bread, and the boy on the floor had a welding visor over his face. 

"Hi there!" The boy stood and flipped his welding mask up, revealing round glasses, a thin face, a long nose, and a friendly smile. "I'm Fiddleford McGucket, local inventor."

"You're an inventor?" Ford smiled. "Me too! I mean- I'm branching out into the field, I'm currently working on a magnet gun."

"Well that sounds mathematically feasible, I reckon." Fiddleford offered a hand to shake, absolutely covered in bandages.

Ford stared at it. "Uh- won't that hurt if I touch it?"

"I've got an un-nat-ur-al-ly high tolerance to pain, doctors say," he laughed, singsonging each syllable in a playful Tennessee twang. "Don't mind the bandages, all from my thingamajig building."

Ford hesitated just a moment longer before he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook Fiddleford's hand.

"Why, that is a mighty fine case of polydactyly you got there." Fiddleford complimented. 

"Th- thanks." He stuttered, in utter shock. No one had ever actually complimented him on it before. Most people didn't even know the term. "You too- I mean- not polydactyly, just thanks?" 

"Thank you kindly, and this here's my friend, Tad."

"Hi, I'm Tad Strange." The deepness of the other boy's voice had Ford reeling. Was that natural? He looked barely older than Ford, with shiny black hair and very neat clothes. He had to be the most nondescript person Ford had ever seen. "Would you like some bread?"

"Uh- okay?" Ford took some of the offered bread. Plain white sliced, from a grocery store. Was he meant to eat this without anything on it? Well- okay, he could try. "Do you carry this everywhere?"

"Of course. It's my emergency bread."

"Oh. Cool?" It didn't seem normal, but maybe it was for Gravity Falls? His hypothesis was correct, he was an anomaly in a town of anomalies! He could fit in here! "I like your voice."

"Thank you." Tad smiled. Ford liked his diction, how deliberately he spoke, how even his voice was. It seemed so calm. "It broke when Tad Strange was seven."

"If we're talking about weird body things, I'm double-jointed?" Fiddleford offered and pulled out a pair of black goggles, a matching pair to the ones Tad had pushed up into his dark hair, hard to see. "Here, put these on, I'm working on improving Tad's phone. I reckon I can really spruce it up."

"Tad Strange would like jetpack capabilities." 

"Yeah! I'd love to help!" Ford's smile was so wide it hurt at the edges, so excited he feared he may explode. Not that it was scientifically possible. 

Was this how easy making friends could be? 

#

Stan plunged into the crowd like a superhero charged through henchmen, keeping his head cocked in case he heard Ford get in trouble. He had to be always ready for bullies, Ford could have all the hope he wanted, as long as Stanley protected him. 

He squinted through the dark, not able to see too much in the weird party lights, lots of pinks and blues and kinda dark. He didn't really like his glasses much when he had to wear them, they were nerdy and made bullies throw stuff at him. He could see most things anyway, just blurry, and as long as he could get the gist he could work with the rest. 'Sides, no point in him having glasses anymore, amount of fights he got in.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he swung without thinking, catching air. Carla's laugh was bright and cheery. "Easy, tiger! Didn't mean to surprise you."

"Sorry." Stan mumbled. He wasn't as noble as some of the boys back home, who didn't hit girls. Seemed insulting to Stan, if they wanted to fight they should get to fight. But Carla wasn't like the girls back home, he didn't want to hit her. 

"C'mon, my friends are this way." Carla took his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Her hand was warm around his, and she didn't even hesitate. Known him four days and still took his hand. Wow, she was nice.

She pulled him to the snacks table, piled high with chips and chocolates and one very big lady in a cop uniform serving punch. Carla let go of his hand and spun around to face him, her skirt twirling as the lazers made the sequin design on it sparkle, and Stan suddenly got why Shermie used to get so weird around girls. Holy Moses.

"Stanley Pines, meet my besties!" Carla gestured at the group. One girl was spinning in place with an eye closed, two boys were having a string cheese war that looked more like flirting than fighting, the other girl was filming, and the last boy was cheering everyone on. "That's Shandra, Susan, Daryl and Edwin, and Tyler! Everyone, this is Stan!"

"Hi." Stan nodded at them, getting a nod back from the girls and Tyler. 

"And- wait, where's your brother?" Carla looked worriedly at him. "Didn't he come?"

"Course he did! Just went to scope out some of the party," Stan played it off, even as he looked around. What if Ford was already getting picked on? "He'll catch up."

"Okay, cool!" Carla looked up over the crowd and brightened. Didn't seem possible but she managed it. "There's Bud! Hold on, I'll get him." She dove into the crowd again, leaving Stan with her friends and no idea what to do.

He grabbed a random bar of candy to eat to avoid having to make conversation, shoving it all in his mouth in one go. He accidentally made eye contact with the cop and looked away too fast. That was probably suspicious. What was it Grunkle Dipper said? Don't speak English to cops?

Carla came back to the group with a wave, her hand entwined with another boy's. "Okay everyone! I need to introduce you all to my new boyfriend, Bud Gleeful!"

Stan was real dumb. Shoulda seen that coming, obviously Carla had a boyfriend. Little weird that it was one of Grunkle Dipper's enemies, but it was Stan's own fault that he got all weird just because the prettiest, nicest girl he ever met thought he was worth being kind to. No point being disappointed because he got stupid. 

"What a delight to meet you all," Bud smiled cheerfully, his brown roots visibly showing through white hair dye. Stan turned his back and started eating more candy.

The other teens offered a chorus of uninterested 'hi's, still focused on their cheese fight. Looked like Blubs was winning, if the goal was to spray as much cheese as possible in his mouth? 

Stan was starting to get why Grunkle Dipper didn't bother with the town, he was not impressed so far. Except by Carla, but she worked in the Mystery Shack so she didn't count. 

"And who might you be, lil fella?" Bud drawled from behind Stan, which had his hackles up and his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Bud was twice his size, but so was Crampelter, and Stan had won that last fight. He wasn't weak and useless anymore, he wasn't the wimp that cried after just one hit, not now that he could fight.

He turned around, feet shifting into the stance from his boxing lessons as he looked up at the bigger teenager. "I'm Stan. Who wants to know?"

"Why, just 'lil ol me'-" he spoke it like a quote- "it's merely just- well, small towns, I tend to know near-everyone. But I don't recall seeing you here before."

"He and his twin are Dipper's nephews and they're in town for the summer," Carla smiled, clinging to Bud's arm. "They're here all the way from New Jersey, how cool is that?"

The other teens looked a bit more interested hearing that, looking at him like he was an oddity, something to gawk at. Was this how Ford felt? All the time? 

"Yeah, what about it?" 

"That's quite a distance," Bud whistled. "Would I be right in assuming you're staying in that old shack in the woods?"

"Where else would I stay, smart guy?" Stan mouthed off, focus narrowing to who else might be coming in for a sneak attack. Crampelter had friends, maybe Bud did too. "My Grunkle lives there."

"Yes, a so-called man of mystery," Bud clicked his tongue. "He's quite a shameless fraud, wouldn't you agree?"

"Coming from someone who's dad is a fake psychic?" Stan aimed for what would hurt, because it hurt when he thought about it. "What a liar, bet you can't trust anything he says."

Everyone gasped. But they didn't know. He loved his mom so much, so much , but she lied so much, just because, even when there was no reason. She didn't mean any harm, but… 

"Hey now, that's not true!" Bud snapped, getting angry, and Stan regretted saying anything when he saw the look on Carla's face. She looked at him like he said something bad. He did say something bad. He was a bad kid, everyone knew it. 

What was he doing? He was ruining the party, he was making everyone upset, and Ford wasn't here, Stan needed him and he wasn't here, and why did he instantly make it a fight? Because Dipper said not to trust someone?  What was wrong with him?!

He had to get out of here. He pulled a smoke bomb from his pocket and hoped and prayed he got it right- got something right- and threw it at the ground. 

It shattered with a flash and a POP! and sent up a cloud of smoke and sparkles that had everyone coughing, and Stan bolted. 

He ran, sticking to the walls and the shadows, passing a supply closet as he looked for Ford. Where was his brother? 

He was rounding the bleachers when he heard Ford laughing. At what? He slowed his steps, peeking around the corner to see Ford holding a blowtorch and soldering something, laughing and talking with two other boys. He looked like he was having a great time. Without Stanley.

Stan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, fists clenched tight and shaking with that energy he got in fights. Ford had some sciency name for it that Stan couldn't remember right now. 

Ford was fine. He found people who liked him. Just like he wanted. Stan was tempted to go over there and say hi- but if Ford wanted that wouldn't he have come and got Stanley? Ford always wanted to show off cool things he found, he dragged Stanley all over Glass Shard Beach, so this must mean Ford didn't want to show off his new friends. 

Stanley could take a hint. Heck- Ford would probably be better off with friends who were smart like him. Stan just caused trouble, everyone knew it. 

He backed away, genuinely considering sneaking out to go sit with Grunkle Dipper. Even if that meant listening to girly pop music. 

Actually-

Nah. Still not desperate enough for that. He still wasn't sure if Grunkle Dipper even wanted them around, Shermie had been the one to push for the trip. Even brought the bus tickets. 

Everyone else kept making decisions and Stan kept having to deal with them. He scowled and found the supply closet again, because at least Carla and Bud wouldn't find him in here if they wanted to get mad at him for causing problems. 

He closed the door behind him and shoved over the nearest thing, sending janitor supplies clattering to the ground as he yelled, just to get the energy out. "I never even wanted to come here! Ford did, not me!" 

He turned and punched the drywall. "I hate stupid parties!"

The drywall cracked. Cracked more. Fell away to reveal a big boxy safe hidden behind the plaster, rusted and covered in dust and cobwebs. Stan had a suddenly cold feeling, a looming sense that he'd done something very stupid. 

A girl's voice whispered in his ear.

"Me too."

#

The screaming started as Dipper chewed a pen, brainstorming new attractions for the track. He caught the smell of ectoplasm in the air, able to recognise it instantly, and shoved open the door to his truck, sprinting towards the gym as a pale glow began to surround the building. 

He could hear the panic of the townsfolk,  his focus set on the door as he raced the ghostly energy, trying to get in before it cut off the gym from the outside world. The boys were still in there.

"No, no, no, no-!" The ectoplasm covered the door right as he reached it, the handle chilling his fingers as he failed to yank it open. He kept trying to jiggle it open before he switched to banging his fists against the glass. "Kids!"

"My lil Buddy-boy!" He heard from behind him, Gideon Gleeful running in his bedazzled suit, his white pompadour bouncing with each step of his wingtip shoes.  Dipper ignored him and braced his shoulder against the door, trying to shove it open. Now wasn't the time to start fighting his nemesis. Maybe? He could multitask.

"Hold on, son!" Gideon panicked before turning to the crowd, hand on his bolo tie. "Everyone, please! I need you all to step back and let me use my psychic abilities! Step back, everyone!"

Dipper felt himself step back before he could snap at Gideon to back off, watching Gideon raise his hand to the building.

"Spirit! I compel thee! Release our children and be banished from this place!" Gideon's voice boomed out bombastically, bringing his TV psychic bravado to the real world.

Nothing happened.

Obviously.

"Oh no! Something's blocking my powers! My innate abilities! That I definitely have!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper snarled and pulled a glove from his pocket, yanking it on as he stomped to the door. "Hey, ghost! Open up!" 

He drew back his fist and punched the door, the ectoplasmic coating jiggling like jello before it started to wobble faster, energy building up. Bad sign.

Dipper had enough time to swear for real before the ghost blasted him away from the building and into darkness.

#

One minute Ford was helping solder an ignition wire, the next the walls were glowing and tables and chairs were floating in the air. Snacks were flying, aimed at people's heads as screams filled the air, and Tad had to struggle to hold onto his bread as it threatened to fly away too. 

"What's happening?" Fiddleford clutched his hands together, rubbing at his spindly fingers. The rest of the party were freaking out, some rushing the doors, others trying to hide, some freezing in fear. 

Ford? Ford felt alive . This was it, the weirdness he knew was here. 

"Hold on, I may have an answer-" but the diary was so uncool-looking, what if his new friends didn't want to be his friends because of it? 

"Ford!" That was Stanley! "Ford, Ford, Ford!"

"Over here!" He responded without hesitation, because that was his brother calling and Ford would always answer. 

Stan rounded the bleachers and skidded to a stop, worn sneakers nearly losing traction on the smooth gym floors. His eyes were wide and he almost looked scared. Couldn't be true though, Ford had documented Stan's phobias and fear responses. Paranormal activity wasn't meant to register. "It's bad! It's really bad!"

"Wait-" Ford adjusted his glasses. "Stanley, did you do this?"

"I didn't plan on it, Sixer!" Stan flipped a switch into anger, shoulders hunched defensively. "I think it's a girl! I heard a voice!"

"A voice? So not only is this clearly paranormal activity of some form, but it's aware enough to manifest vocals and self-identify? Fascinating!"

"Uh, Ford? Who's this?" Fiddleford tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh!" He'd completely forgotten they were there, so caught up in the supernatural. "Fiddleford, Tad, this is my twin brother, Stanley. Stanley, these are my friends, Fiddleford and Tad."

"Hi. I'm Tad Strange. I like bread."

"Yeah, great to meetcha, the nerd book , Ford, what does it say ?" Stan made a swipe for Ford's jacket, where he knew the book was. 

Ford backed up. "I don't- I haven't looked yet!"

"Why not?!"

"Because-" laughter, vicious and dark, rang out around the room, and Stan whirled, hand out like he was protecting Ford and his friends. Ford stared as Carla lifted into the centre of the room, her eyes glowing white from within and her arms outstretched.

She spoke with a voice that wasn't hers. "Sixty years I've watched you all party! Now tonight will be your last!"

"Hey!" Sheriff Grenda stomped forward and pointed at her. "You're under arrest for possession! Get outta that teenager!"

"Adults," the ghost scoffed, crossing Carla's arms. "You threw this party? Then I'll throw you!"

Carla pointed as Grenda was enveloped in pale light before she seemed to- rip apart? But it looked wet? But there was also no blood or anything, her matter was just rearranged? That was so cool! Oh- and bad too, right.

"Sheriff!" 

"Where did she go?"

"It turned her into a disco ball!"

It had. Ford had never seen a disco ball with a face before. He wanted to take so many notes.

"Back behind the bleachers, c'mon!" Fiddleford dragged both the twins to the corner he and Tad were hiding in, sitting them down as they hid in the shadows. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but the panicking crowd likely drew more attention. 

"Poindexter!" Stanley grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You gotta focus! How do we stop this?"

"Okay." He pulled out the diary and started flipping through, face burning. He hoped Fiddleford and Tad didn't laugh at the sparkliness of it. "Ghosts, ghosts, I know I saw something- here!"

He cleared his throat and began reading the sticker-covered page, googly eyes pasted onto a drawing of a happy ghost.

"Dear diary,

I fought a ghost today! It was crazy! He was really cute, definitely dreamy, but he was also a major meanie who wanted to destroy town, so dateability: questionable. 

Good thing I saw some of her ghost hunting tapes, otherwise I wouldn't have kicked ghostly butt! I bet this one would have counted as a Category 5, so kind of a ghost wimp. Lemme list the categories before I forget! Womp womp!"

Ford scanned through the categories before he found it. "This must be it! 'Category 8: Haunted Buildings- these ghosts are stuck in one place and make reality go all whoa! But they can't actually hurt people permanently and you can totally work things out with them by talking about their feelings, awwwwww' and then there's a heart drawn in? And people hugging?"

"We're all gonna die," Stan decided. 

"Stan, you have to tell me how this happened. Maybe there's a clue there."

"I just hit a wall." Stan shrugged, looking away. "Same as always."

"Perhaps we should ask the ghost what it wants?" Tad offered as a solution, looking abnormally calm while Fiddleford was having a silent freak out next to him, rocking back and forth and carding his hands through his hair. Ford felt a bit bad to see him so nervous, he must not have encountered an anomaly before. 

"I think it's pretty easy to tell what the ghost wants, Strange." Stan snarked.

"I WILL DESTROY ALL THE PARTY SPIRIT THAT HAS EVER EXISTED!"

"Yeah, that bit's obvious," Ford agreed. "It says that Category 8s aren't unreasonable, so maybe we can convince it to leave everyone alone?"

"We have to get it out of Carla," Stan agreed and took Ford's hand. Ford blinked at him in surprise. Stan must have really been scared, they hadn't held hands in a while. His fingers were trembling. 

Ford didn't let go this time. Not if Stanley needed it. He squeezed his twin's hand and pulled them both out of hiding, the room nearly empty from everyone being turned into party favours and posters and stuff. Carla's body floated, items swirling around her like a tornado, her flower missing from her hair. 

"Hey, ghost!" Ford yelled as he and Stan stepped up. "We wanna talk!"

"Oh?" Carla's body raised a hand and they were both floating. Ford felt Stanley's hand go tight in a death grip, hard enough to hurt. His fear of heights, Ford had to do something. The ghost continued, making Carla's face angry in a way that didn't look right. "What do you possibly have to say? Here to defend parties like everyone else?"

"I- we wanted to ask why you're unhappy!" Ford blurted out. "We want to try fix it!"

"How can you fix it? You were invited to this party like everyone else, I bet you've been to lots of them, everyone has! Everyone but me!"

"No we haven't!" Ford tried to convince her. "Tell her, Stanley!"

"I-" Stan's eyes were scrunched shut, face pale and sweaty. "We haven't! Look at us, we're losers! Who'd invite us anywhere?!"

Everything in the gym stopped spinning. Then it all crashed to the ground, Stan and Ford included. Stan immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the floor, while Ford landed a little steadier. He placed a hand on Stanley's back and looked up at Carla, or, more accurately, at the ghost that had appeared, holding Carla up by the shoulders.

She looked like a normal teenager in retro clothes, just with thick glasses like Ford. 

"You're losers like me? But you don't look like it!"

Ford held up his hand and wiggled his six fingers. "I'm definitely a loser. And my brother…"  they both looked at Stanley, currently muttering 'sweet Moses, I love you ground'. 

"But if you're losers, then why are you at a party?" She scowled and adjusted her glasses. "Especially when one of you hates them."

"Huh?" Ford looked at Stanley, feeling betrayed. Stanley didn't like parties? But he was the one who convinced Grunkle Dipper, and said they'd been to lots to Carla, and-

And, Ford suddenly remembered, dodged the question about wanting to go in the first place.

"Stanley?"

Stanley looked away and swiped his nose with his wrist brace. "Whatever. So what if I do?" He pointed at the ghost. "Why do you hate them?"

The ghost gave a very big sigh and Ford braced for backstory. "No one in this town ever invited me to anything."

"Even all of the parties that were meant for everyone, I would get an anti-invitation. An unvitation ." The ghost floated just above the ground, looking sad.  "So one day, I decided that I would ignore my unvitation and go to a party meant for everyone."

She tilted her head. "Unfortunately, that party was to celebrate Gravity Falls' Annual Heavy Object Tossing Competition, and a safe landed right on me."

"That can not be a real thing-"

"It's real!" Sheriff Grenda, in disco ball form, yelled out. "I've won it eight years in a row!"

"Okay…?" Ford shook his head, resolving to ignore that. "So you've been here ever since?"

"Yes. I've watched people party for sixty years here!" The ghost began to turn red and catch fire. "And still! No invitations!"

"What if we invited you?" Ford offered.

"Or Carla!" Stan blurted out. "Carla over there, you just possessed her. She's super nice and will invite anyone. She invited us, for cryin' out loud."

"Oh. Okay." The ghost floated over to Carla, sitting on the floor staring blankly into the middle distance, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hi Carla! Can I come to this party?"

"Uh…" Carla looked over at them, frazzled and ruffled. Ford nodded as hard as he could while Stan gave her very emphatic thumbs up. Carla looked back to the ghost. "Sure...?"

"Great!" The ghost snapped her fingers and everything went right back to normal. People turned back into people, Grenda was no longer a disco ball, and the music started up again. "I've always wanted to go to a party! Whoo-hoo!"

"Can I ask you a million questions about being a ghost?!" Ford asked now that the danger was gone, pulling out a spare notepad and pencil, not noticing Stan walk off.

#

Stan picked up Carla's plastic flower and held it out to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure?" Carla accepted the flower, putting it in her hair. "I think my whole worldview just changed."

"Yep." Stan hesitated, fidgeting with his wrist brace. "I'm sorry I said mean things to Bud."

"Oh. Well- thanks, but I think you need to apologise to him, okay?" Carla smiled at him and stood up, brushing off her skirt.

Stan nodded and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "I will."

"Thanks. You're a good kid, Stan." She patted his shoulder. "And for the record: I don't think you're a loser, you or your brother. Jersey doesn't know what they got."

"Kay." Stan agreed because how was he meant to argue that? Not when Carla was smiling at him like she believed it, like she wasn't so cool. "Thanks, Carla."

"Carla!" Bud shoved through the crowd, flowery shirt looking a bit rumpled. "Are you alright, dearest-darlingest?"

"I'm fine, really!" Carla beamed, taking Bud's hands. "Stan and Ford saved me."

"I can see that." Bud shot Stan a filthy look. 

"Hey, Bud." Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, having to drag the words out of himself. He didn't like apologising much. Usually it didn't help things. 

"Can I help you, Stanley?" He made it sound utterly frigid. 

"Sorry for what I said about your dad and stuff. It was mean." Stan looked away, looking at Ford, who was introducing the ghost to Strange and McGucket. At least he was having fun. 

"I… suppose I'm also sorry about what I said about your great uncle. It was uncalled for." Bud tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Perhaps we should call a truce?"

"Sure. Truce." Stan stuck out his hand, too late realising it was his braced hand. 

Bud took it, squeezing way too hard and making the bones hurt. Stan didn't flinch and dug his nails in as an answer. 'Truce'. Sure. When Carla was around, at least.

"Yay!" Carla did a happy dance. "The power of friendship wins again!"

They both put on a smile for her, immediately shooting daggers at the other the moment she wasn't looking. Looked like they'd be hating each other in secret. Stan could live with that.

"I'm gonna go check on my brother." Stan yanked his hand back and walked off, already sick of Bud Gleeful. He was joining his Grunkle's rivalry on the side of his Grunkle. 

#

They found their Grunkle Dipper snoring in the back of his pick-up truck, having one of those old people naps he usually had in his armchair. Ford poked his face with a pencil, not expecting him to bolt upright and immediately fall out of the truck with a surprisingly girly scream.

"Augh! Dipper down! Dipper down!"

"Grunkle Dipper, we met a ghost!" Surely he saw the building glow, right? He'd believe Ford now!

"Huh?" Dipper rubbed his head, accidentally showing off the birthmark on his forehead of the Big Dipper constellation. He picked up his cap and set it down, blinking blearily up at Stan and Ford. "You what a what?"

"Met a ghost. Fought her, invited her to a party, whole shebang," Stan yawned. "Can we go home now?"

"I made friends!" Ford already had so many plans. "Can they come over for a sleepover tomorrow? They already called their parents and asked!"

"Sure and sure?" Dipper dusted off his pajamas, surprisingly dirty for a nap in his truck, and Ford noticed something.

"What's that glove?"

"Glove?" Dipper looked down before he noticed the blue glove on his right hand. He made a weird face before he pulled it off. "Uh, it's a- a compression glove? Yep! That thing! For my old man arthritis. Flares up sometimes. 'Cause I'm old."

"Aren't you fifty-seven?"

"I'm whatever age a senior's discount at the movies is," Dipper snarked, and Ford scowled. That felt sorta illegal. Definitely unethical.

"I like your moxie, Grunkle Dip," Stan complimented as he clambered out of the back of the truck. "So did you see any of that?"

"Any of what? I've been sleeping." Dipper blinked innocently.

"Oh, come on!" Now Ford really had to find proof of the supernatural. Time to build a gnome trap.

He reached for Stanley's hand again, resolving to talk to him later about stuff. Stanley squeezed his hand back, smiling at him before he yawned again. 

Ford yawned in response. Okay. Tomorrow. They'd talk tomorrow. Stanley shouldn't have to feel like he needed to hide things, not from his brother. 

Mystery twins forever, after all.

[rauberrauber]

line up baby

wanted to make a sort of ref for everyone so i can keep track of everyone's designs, heights, etc

side hcs below cuz i wanna ramble lol

fyi any links are just for pictures to help visualize what im trying to say

also add to these with ur own i love reading hcs :]

general:

the sides work with a kind of cartoon logic (kinda like who framed Roger rabbit) which is what their shape shifting and such is, they can survive pretty much everything, dont bend to reality type thing

i also dig playing around with the idea that they just arent human, they dont need to eat, sleep, even breathe or blink if they dont wanna. They just play more human around thomas so they dont freak him out (everyone but remus at least, dude doesnt give a fuck lol) they all have their priorities regarding that kinda stuff. like logan doesnt eat or sleep almost at all (there r exceptions tho obvi (crofters))  while patton rly likes to cook and bake so why not eat the stuff you make? meanwhile remus eats literally anything he can find

they can also float if they wanna, same thing where they just dont around thomas. this came about me just imagining remus consistently floating around in the mindscape instead of walking for whatever reason? so yeah they can do that

theres a core mindscape and a ‘dark’ mindscape, that sorta works like the upside down from stranger things (as in the dark mindscape is like literally upside down and mirrors everything, like this)

everyones also got their own unique doors to their rooms. logans is very sleek and modern, pattons in more childlike and almost vintage, romans resemble castle doors while remus’ is more like a dungeons, virgils is typically angsty teenager with tons of posters and ‘keep out’ signs, and janus has tons of locks on his

design wise the core sides have straight teeth and fluffier hair while the dark sides have sharp teeth and rougher(?) hair (since changing, virgil has vampire-esque fangs)

logan:

square rimmed glasses

loves the rain

unintentionally fidgets with his clothes, always adjusting his glasses or rolling his sleeves up and down or messing with the buttons or his tie

playing more into the whole ‘sides dont have to eat thing’ he finds food kinda nasty lol, again only rly eats stuff thats very good to him (ultimate picky eater basically) patton has tried and failed many times to get logan to try and like new foods

roman was the one who got him to try crofters

watches those long ass video essays about random topics on youtube for background noise

patton:

round glasses and heart eyes

has roller blades/skates! specifically these ones that retract the wheels. good way of getting energy out (even if hes super clumsy with them)

tallest + dad bod

tons of bandages, kinda playing around with the phrase ‘broken heart’

him and janus play video games together (both of them are terrible lol)

definitely listens to dad rock/dad music

roman:

starry eyes!

crown can float on its own (same w/ remus’)

has one of these couches in his room to dramatically faint onto

him and remus dont share a room, but they have a sort of portal to each others rooms if that makes sense. a big mirror but instead of reflecting, its showing into the other room and only the twins can go thru

wants to be his own side after the split

roman and remus pierced each others ears when they were younger

virgil:

decently tall but slouches a lot which hides it (slouching hes shorter than the twins but still taller than janus) also rarely stands or sits straight at all so it kinda shocked the core sides when he showed them how tall he rly was (queue roman being mad cuz hes actually the shortest of the main four lol)

has stereotypical emo hair and still has some purple dye in it

hot topic skeleton fingerless gloves and muddy sneakers (idk why it just feels right)

tons of random bruises

draws his nails black with sharpie

listens to metal music to calm down. remus got him into a lot of numetal, screamo kinda music when virgil was still one of the others, it was one of the few times theyd hang out and virgil wasnt 100% freaked out by remus

definitely experimented with scene fashion when thomas was a teenager

drinks tons of energy drinks

janus:

shortest ha

yellow eyes

bow wrapped on his hat

long flowy cape and heeled shoes with spats (thats what theyre called right?)

uses the staff from pof as a walking cane

speaks fluent pig latin, remus and logan are the only ones who can somewhat understand what he says (remus cuz hes been around janus so long, and logan wanting to research and understand whatever the hell janus is saying) it also has always drove virgil up the wall cuz hes never been able to get it, janus will start speaking it just to annoy him

only rly relaxes when by himself, always kinda putting on a mask with the others and thomas, regardless of how trustworthy he considers them

constantly coming up with proper plans and schemes, typically wouldnt let remus near them with a 10 foot pole (affectionately)

knows how to lockpick

scared of the ocean

remus: 

broken crown

eyes can go all crazy, pupils can be different sizes and such (there was a cartoon that did this where the eyes would go red and have a ton of rings around the pupils like spirals kinda? i cant find a pic of what im rly visualizing rip i hope that makes sense)

ton of rings (one of em is an eyeball ring)

is like half an inch taller than roman and will never let him live it down

enjoys all the ‘bad’ disney/pixar movies. (cars, home on the range, etc) and like unironically enjoys them. prolly started ironically to mess with roman but he genuinely find those ones the best and cant fathom why theyre disliked (totally not self-indulgent cuz some of those movies are my favorites)

comes up with random weird plans and ropes janus into them whenever possible, janus plays along best he can

somewhat wants to fuse back with roman (even if hes unsure why)

remus and virge used to make fun of roman together all the time

remus is the one who gave virge his septum and gages

[obsessive-ego]

When you find out Mr beetleman is a dead guy

Toonjuice x reader

"I guess there's no running from it anymore, y/n, this is Beetlejuice, he's a... dead guy" the kid flinches absolutely terrified you'll tell her parents about this well kept secret

"Wha-" you start

Beetlejuice quickly grabs your hand and shakes it "Come on lyds no need for the stuffy introductions, me and y/n have met countless times right toots?" He chuckles

In a flash Beetlejuice shifts from his current form to that of that loud strange schoolmate of Lydia's, Betty, before you can say anything he changes again into that incompetent handyman, beetleman, beetlejuice contuines to shift and change into every form he took to hide away from the living until he reverts back to his default look

"You're taking this very well" Lydia interrupts, hopeful over your lack of screaming

"The whole time" you whisper "the whole time?!" You shout "the whole time" you continue, this was happening too fast, you couldnt make heads or tails of what was really happening

Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug, and licks the palm of his hand before trying to smooth back his hair with it "I get how you feel babes, you've had the ghoul of your screams under your nose the whole time, I'd be in shock too"

"Beetlejuice!" Lydia shouts "this is serious, y/n Beetlejuice is alittle rough around the edges, but he's my best friend, and if my parents knew about him-" she pauses "please don't tell them, he's a really funny guy once you get to know him"

This was so weird, but the way the kid was looking at you, you couldn't say no right away, at the very least you'll get to know the guy before making any decisions, an adult ghost hanging around a kid? The whole thing seemed weird to you so until further notice you'll keep your mouth shut

"Yeah, I'll keep this to myself"

With that statement you left, you honestly needed to sit down and think about what just happened, all these people turned out to be one guy, but the more you think about it the more it kinda makes sense, each disguise demonstrated that same level of pathetic and loud.

...

"Did you expose yourself to y/n on purpose?"

You have left the room in a hurry, a little shaken from learning the truth, but you gave your word to keep this to yourself, leaving Lydia hopeful, but suspicious a certain ghost blew his cover on purpose

"What?"

"Did you expose yourself to y/n on purpose" she asks again

"What?! No!" Beetlejuice quickly covers his body, one hand covering his chest, the other his groin, though he is fully clothed

Lydia rolls her eyes and sighs "I'm just saying it was pretty sloppy, even for you"

"Thanks"

"No, y/n walked in before you spun your head, like you wanted them to know-"

The kid wasn't stupid, she knew beetlejuice was fond of you, the ghoul would pesture you at any given opportunity, no matter the form he took.

"Would ya look at the time lyds, I gotta scram-" he was trying to run away

"What's done is done beetlejuice, we just have to show y/n you're a good guy underneath all the grime"

Beetlejuice scowls "if ya wanna drive em off, sure, I'm in the slime of my prime kid, no breather can resist my gross charm♡" beetlejuice snorts out a laugh adjusting his suit

"We're doomed"

[kazuwhora]

MONEY TREES — K. NAHOYA

cw. fem!reader, hit man!nahoya, car sex, tiny bit of degradation, I guess kinda sorta dubcon, cunnilingus

wc. 1.599

an. submission #1 for @novaresque and @festive's dirty money collab goodbye

“you look like a slut” nahoya spat, sitting back in his chair with his feet propped up on the seat. his eyes were creased in a smile, but his words stung like acid.

you had spent all day searching for an outfit appropriate enough to meet his coworkers, but nothing you had brought to the table thus far had gained his approval. instead, he shook his head with each outfit, finding something wrong about it until you were left with only the skimpiest of clothes left.

“I don’t know what you want me to wear then” you huffed, crossing your arms which only made your tits pop out even more.

nahoya only grinned. “did I say I didn’t want you to look like a slut?”

your eyes widened at the remark as your shoulders suddenly shrank forward with insecurity as you thought about the conservativeness of the outfits he had denied before landing where you were— slutty.

“you want me to meet your boss like this?” you asked, doubtful that his intentions were true. but he nodded again, this time with eyes that grew dark and lustful as he scanned your figure in front of him.

“it’s my money dressin’ you, aint it?”

you shrugged, analyzing each piece of clothing and remembering the black card you swiped each time with nahoya’s name on it.

“yeah.. I just don’t wanna be the only one there dressed like this..”

nahoya could sense the hesitation in your voice, but he didn’t care. if only you had known what his job entailed— just exactly what he did for work beyond the few details he let slip to you when you had nagged just a little too much. if you had known, then your tits spilling from the edges of the fabric would be the least of your concerns.

“I think it looks hot” he shrugged, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

you sighed, eyes rolling as you slipped the thin straps from your shoulders, gazing at yourself in the mirror behind him.

“you ready?” he asked, impatiently shifting as you inspected the dress and the way it hugged your body. in all honesty, you had never paid much attention to the dozens of outfits that hung in your closet. you barely remembered where you had picked this one up, or how much it had cost your boyfriend for that matter.

“I guess so” you huffed, hurrying past him to make any last minute adjustments to your hair and makeup which had nearly taken the whole day to do. nahoya’s eyes rolled as he got up, smoothing the creases in his suit before his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you from the mirror and out the bedroom door.

“we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry. don’t want that, huh?” he teased, kicking a pair of heels towards you that you grabbed by the straps and struggled to slip on as you walked.

life with nahoya always came with the most luxurious of experiences. he always had a chauffeur waiting at your disposal, black cards stashed in your wallet with his name on them, and endless bits of diamonds and accessories that made your body glimmer with opulence. but he was always distant, spending weeks away from home with nothing more than a few texts every now and then to let you know his whereabouts. this time, he wanted to show you off. he wanted to cart you around like his little princess, showing his goods off like an auction he knew only he could afford, and it was that very possessiveness that took over his mind far too often.

as you stepped into the dimly lit cabin of the limousine, nahoya slipped beside you, resting his hand on your thigh as the valet closed the door behind him. the partition was pulled, leaving the low hum of music to vibrate across the floors as the car began to move.

“are you gonna be able to handle it there?” nahoya hummed, pushing your hair away from your shoulder leaving your neck exposed and vulnerable. the way he eyed you up made you feel like prey, and his grip on your thigh only tightened the more he admired your body.

“why wouldn’t I?” you looked away as you spoke, but nahoya’s hand only trailed up your thigh and teased at the hem of your dress.

“dunno.. I think I might’a underestimated how good you’d look in front of ‘em all”

your breath hitched when he finally pushed away the silky fabric, slipping his hand between your thighs where his thumb grazed your clit and a dirty smile painted his lips.

“nahoya please” you whispered, turning your head to give him a warning glare, but his face was already dangerously close and your lips barely touched as you turned to face him.

“please what?” he mocked, toying with your clit as you kept yourself from melting under his touch.

nahoya knew his effect on you— he knew how easy it was to fluster you, to make your heart skip a beat, and the excitement that built in his core with every whimper or shaky breath that fell from your lips was enough to make him want to take you right then and there.

“can’t you wait til later?”

nahoya only laughed, thumb pressing on your clit harder as his lips brushed against yours in a gentle kiss. the softness of his lips foiled the crudeness of his voice, snickering as he teased you to the point of quiet whimpers that bounced off the floors of the car.

“don’t wanna wait” he whispered, hooking his fingers around the edges of your panties as he slid them down your legs and shifted in his seat. “I wanna taste you now”

you knew there was no arguing with nahoya when his eyes grew dark with lust, and his body moved on autopilot. in two shaky breaths, nahoya had already made his way to his knees, elbows propped on the seat beside you as he spread your legs and pulled your panties to your ankles.

“you know you want it” he spoke under his breath as he guided your legs up onto the seat. you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt, teasing and taunting you as your face turned hot with embarrassment. “see? you’re such a little slut huh?”

you squeezed your eyes shut as nahoya’s tongue teased your clit in slow circles, lapping at your juices that stuck to his chin as he held your legs apart with nails dug into your skin.

“such a pretty pussy— can’t be showin’ up all needy and desperate can we?”

the press of his tongue grew stronger as you shook your head, holding back the moans that came with kitten licks at your bud as he smiled against your cunt.

“that’s it princess, wanna hear you beg for me” he hummed with a confidence that made you squirm. but as the strokes of nahoya’s tongue picked up pace, so did your moans that slipped from your lips with ease. his fingers dug deeper into your skin each time you whimpered his name, and nahoya could feel the throb of his cock pushing against the his pants tighter and tighter the more you moaned for him. his tongue grew sloppier, resorting to burying his whole face in your cunt until his nose was pressed against your pelvis, tongue slurping and dragging up and down your clit and collecting your arousal like he had never tasted you before. he was messy, and loud, moaning against your skin almost louder than you as he relished in your whines and the grip of your hands in his hair.

“so fuckin’ good” he groaned, one hand leaving your thigh as it trailed down his body to palm at his cock through his pants. “wanna taste your cum on my tongue, ‘kay?” he mumbled, voice vibrating against your skin as his tongue dipped inside of you in sporadic motions that made your body tense.

“now” he hissed, and his his words were enough to push you closer and closer to the edge as you felt your head begin to feel fuzzy while heat pooled at your core the more he pushed you. the way his voice was tinted with a sense of desperation made your body tingle, and you watched as nahoya buried his face back into your cunt with his other hand frantically fisting his cock. watching him stroke himself so pathetically made your clit ache as his tongue swirled around you, sucking and nibbling until your whimpers turned to moans and your legs squirmed in his grasp. pleasure gripped you by your throat as you struggled to breathe, letting nahoya’s tongue guide you through your high. your fingers looped strands of peachy curls between them as your choked sobs bled through the air, pushing him closer and closer to the edge until the taste of your pleasure was too much, and his cock ached and throbbed as spurts of his cum leaked through his pants.

“fuck” nahoya groaned, his torso jerking as he covered the wet patch with his hand. he couldn’t help but gaze up at your face ridden with daze, as a combination of sweat and glitter shimmered across your skin while you struggled to catch your composure.

“guess we’ll have’ta call off this meeting then” he shrugged, sitting back against the table behind him as you pressed your thighs together and scrambled to collect your panties from around your ankles.

“didn’t want’cha to meet him anyways”

🔖 @manjiroscum @tettatonin @tirzamisu @maytey @keisaint @haruphilia a @miytsuya @champagnej @lovemegood @tofu-and-aesthetic @strawberrysanzu @dilf-city @z-na @souyatr @icecreamranwich h @toyomitsus s @saitaso @chieeeeeee @lalalemon101 1 @wakasa-wifey @roppongiperfume e @tokyomanjihoe @blueparadis @crybabylisa @zitabob @bxnten @minoozi @whosarlet @shigsprincess @zuuki @thevoidwriting @k-ryuuguji @thekillingtimethekillingmoon @chronic-claire-universe @hashiraswhore @dukina @shidoux @chifuyuslilkitten @justhere @sofiakujo @4g0j0 @sloth-fox @cults-soundtrackthree @plumtora @slyoki @sacredsukuna @hoesplay @r-indou

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

original idea, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, is observant. He noticed you started your period today and picked up your favorite can of sweet Thai tea on his way back from visiting his best friend Park Jimin. How nice of him until he asks you mid-gulp if he can go in raw.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; unprotected period sex, do not do this unless you absolutely trust the other person; established relationship; low-key crack; lots of fluff; shower smut (fem reader is on her period, handjob, unprotected, wall sex, creampie, doggy); non-idol!BTS, ft Jimin putting ideas in Taehyung's head, who would have guessed

--

“You started your period today.”

You cracked open the can of Thai tea you boyfriend handed you. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw the pad wrapper in the trash.”

“Oh.”

You took a large sip, thinking the conversation was over.

“Does that mean I can go in raw?”

You nearly spit out the entire contents of your mouth. Instead, you choked and swallowed hard, coughing and sputtering. “What?”

Kim Taehyung expression didn’t change. “Does that mean I can go in–?”

You held up your hand, coughing wildly, hacking the words out. “I heard what you said, I just can’t believe you said it, who the fuck?”

Taehyung seemed to understand and nodded, dark brown hair falling over his forehead.

“Oh, right. I was talking to Jimin and he mentioned–”

Oh, of course, how could you not guess, Taehyung’s best friend Park Jimin was putting ideas in Taehyungie’s little noggin and now murdering you as you struggled to breathe.

“–that it could be possible, because you’re right, it’s too early to have kids and having a monetary plan to prepare is a better idea–”

You were glad that Taehyung was interested in finances when it came to having children but he sure picked a weird ass time to agree with your sensibilities.

“–but I love having sex with you, so I was telling Jimin I haven’t been in raw yet and I completely understand that you prefer condoms over hormones since that might affect your mental state and I don’t like the idea of only you doing something like that to yourself anyway, it doesn’t seem fair–”

You were still processing the fact that Taehyung had told Jimin he hadn’t been in raw. What the fuck?! At least he loved having sex with you. You were staring at Taehyung slack-jawed, but he was scrunching up his face, trying to remember the rest of the conversation.

“–and Jimin mentioned, ‘hey, at least you can do it when she’s on her period, it’ll add more lubrication and it might even be better for her,’ so I was wondering if we could try it, if you’re interested.”

Silence.

You still hadn’t picked your jaw off the floor.

Taehyung opened his eyes and smiled at you. “Hm? What do you think?”

Okay, you very much enjoyed Taehyung’s eager, boxy smile, so that unfroze you, but you still blurted out your next question in sheer shock.

“Why did you tell Jimin you’ve never been in raw?!”

He blinked, tilting his head. “It just came up.”

You looked around, expecting Jimin to pop out and tell you you’ve been pranked. He did not.

“…. H-How…? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m going choose ignorance…” you mumbled, now taking another long sip of your Thai tea, but more like a swig and wishing it was forty-percent alcohol.

“But what do you think though?” Taehyung persisted, leaning down with his tilted head to try and catch your eye. “Do you wanna try? It might be nice!”

You looked down.

Someone was thinking about it for sure.

You looked back up.

Taehyung smiled at you innocently with a massive tent in his pants.

You stared into those big brown eyes and sighed.

“Ah… probably not. It’s going to be so messy and dirty and cleaning up is going to be such a bitch… I’m sorry, Tae, but I don’t think…”

-

“So…”

You stood under the showerhead, your hair wet and sticking to your forehead.

“So.”

Hey, in your defense, you were also curious.

Taehyung chewed on his lip, watching you inquiringly. “Hey, we don’t have to. I was being kinda pushy… but…”

You scratched your head, moving your wet hair out of your eyes. “Ah, it’s okay, I understand, I just… it feels wrong, you know? Aren’t you grossed out?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm, at first? But the more I think about it, the more I think, well, isn’t it natural? And you have to deal with it every month for many, many years, right? Plus, when we have children, they’re going to come out of you slightly, erm…” He made a little bit of a face but shook his head, spraying water everywhere from his dark wet hair. “Anyway, it’s not too bad. We’re in the shower. You like it when we do stuff in the shower,” Taehyung added brightly.

You contained your laughter, giving him a hopeless smile. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Now Taehyung turned red, his deep tan skin flushing, eyes shifting from side to side. “Um…”

You tilted your head.

He shot you a quick glance and mumbled under his breath.

“Idon’tknowhowlongI’mgonnalastIalreadydon’tlastthatlong.”

“What?”

He chewed on his lip.

“Nothing.”

“Oh.”

You reached up and pushed your hair back, swimsuit-supermodel style, and now Taehyung was doing more than glancing, he was observing very closely and very intently under wet strands of dark brown hair, curling around his strong features and moody brown eyes, his lips parting slightly, probably unnoticed on his part.

Looking like a fish wasn’t exactly an image Taehyung himself considered sexy.

Secretly, you enjoyed it because it meant he wasn’t conscious of what he looked like and was too distracted by your actions and your body to do so.

You smiled. “Why were you talking to Jimin about something like that anyway?”

Taehyung stiffened as you neared, biting his lip. “Ah, well…” He frowned slightly. “You’re so good at certain… things… It’s kind of frustrating for me… sometimes. I want to be better.”

Now you hesitated. “What are you talking about? Haven’t I taught you a lot of things? And you learn quickly and are amazing once you get the hang of it.”

His lips twisted into a small pout.

“For once, I’d like to teach you something.” He let out a small puff. “Or at least suggest something you’ve never heard of before.”

You blinked at him.

“Er… going in raw isn’t exactly a new concept… rather… that’s the original idea of dick and pussy in the first place…”

Taehyung scrunched up his face. “I know that, argh… I just mean… ah…” He trailed off, baritone voice now unsure and unsteady.

You saw he was rapidly losing confidence and you placed a hand on his chin, lightly lifting it with your knuckle. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I want to try it. I just thought you wouldn’t like it, because… I mean… Period blood isn’t sexy per se… And I’m certainly not sexy during that time of the month…” You frowned uneasily, lowering your hand, but now Taehyung raised your chin, smiling at you.

“Don’t be silly. You’re always sexy.”

He leaned in, smile morphing into a smirk.

“Also, your boobs get bigger during that time of month, so I always appreciate that.”

Your eyes widened. “You noticed?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I noticed. I keep close tabs on your boobs.”

“Close tabs? Do you record the size in a notebook or something?”

He chuckled, tapping his temple with his free hand, the other sliding down your chin, tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. “Mental notes. I remember all the important stuff. Your boobs are on the top of the list.”

Your cut in with your inquiring quips. “My ass? My mouth? My hands? My pussy?”

Taehyung frowned slightly and placed his large hand on your breast, kneading it as if he needed comfort. “Okay, near the top, but don’t make me order them, it’s too difficult.”

You grinned. “That makes me feel better.”

He breathed out in relief. “Whew, that’s good–mphf!”

You seized the moment and pushed him into the wall, pressing your wet body into his, your tongue snaking out and lightly flicking against his lips, taking advantage of his surprise and the beauty of his widened eyes to kiss him firmly, falling into his warmth. It took him a second to compose himself, tipping his head down to take charge of the kiss, squeezing your breast and running his thumb over your hard nipple, but you placed your palms flat on the shower wall and resisted him, dancing your tongue between his lips and not letting him catch it, smirking at the growl he made in frustration.

“We were having a moment,” he muttered.

“Mmm, I know, but I want my moment with him.”

Your fingers ghosted his thigh and he sucked in a breath as your hand closed around his cock, not quite hard yet but getting there, especially after your hand came into contact with it. You feathered kisses on his lips as you stroked his length, nice and slow, his other hand coming up to cup both breasts, panting softly, hot breath on your lips.

“You’re too quick…”

“Can’t waste too much water,” you chuckled. “And…”

You kissed up his jaw, adjusting your body to get a better angle, licking his skin lightly and feeling the vibration and depth of his moan under your tongue and lips, whispering gently into his ear.

“It’s kind of hard to focus when you’re so handsome, Tae.”

He let you have the moment, tipping his head down so your teeth could catch his ear, nipping at it lightly, contrasting with the pace of your hand, firm and intense, shivering at the thickness and the weight in your palm, savoring the taste of his skin, moaning into his ear, long and sensual, everything he liked and more, his head turning, black-brown eyes looking down at you under lashes covered in small droplets, adding to his already ethereal appearance.

“Let me…”

He leaned in, not finishing his sentence, kissing you long and deep and sweet, changing your positions, but you didn’t let go, toying with his tongue. He made a small tch sound of annoyance, shifting his hips, picking up one of your legs.

“Ah, w-wait…”

“Why?” he chuckled. “You don’t wanna wait. I can tell.”

You tried to hide the smirk, but it came out.

Smugness just refused to be hidden.

Taehyung grinned against your lips. “Thought so.”

Your hand was already guiding him. “This isn’t going to be the optimal position for you to cum.”

“Good.”

You raised an eyebrow and he thrust up into your pussy.

You sucked in a breath, relaxing yet still stretched out. It did hurt slightly. Taehyung was sizable after all, in length and girth, but you had practice and muscle memory, and maybe (definitely) a pain kink.

What? It was fun getting stuffed with dick.

Especially when it was Taehyung’s dick.

You? You were fine.

Taehyung?

“Oh, fuck…!”

Er, maybe not?

He had such a cocky expression beforehand but the second he entered you, it instantly changed, sudden tension in his strong features, gasping as he slid in, surprisingly much easier than you expected, perhaps due to the consistency of the slippery blood, almost stopping halfway, but you didn’t let him, firmly grabbing his hips and yanking him towards you, his eyes rolling back, whining your name loudly, the volume and depth reverberating in the bathroom.

“You’re so t-tight… fuck… soft… oh, shit…”

You let him run through every expletive he knew, holding him firmly by his juicy ass, enjoying it too much, but thankfully Taehyung didn’t notice, eyes closed, head thrown back, dark wet hair curling around his cheekbones. He reached up and pushed it away from his face, exhaling hard, slowly opening his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“Fuck… it feels so fucking good, you have no idea…” he shuddered, twitching inside you and moaning once more, body shaking so he had to plant his hands on the walls of the shower, volume increasing as you pulsed your muscles around his length. There was slight pain from cramps, but not from his cock, and you could ignore the dull ache and focus on the pleasure, slowly moving your hips and biting your lip, feeling the added slickness of your juices mixing with the blood.

You often cursed your period’s arrival, but maybe it was time to reconsider.

Always good to find the silver lining in things.

“Taehyung…”

You rolled your hips and he gasped, thrusting back lightly.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he panted, swallowing hard. “Shit, it feels so fucking good, I can’t t-think…”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts,” you managed to say, pressing your hands into his ass and angling yourself to take him deeper, shoulder blades and head touching the shower wall, sighing in satisfaction.

“Alright, I’m gonna…”

He clenched his jaw, faster, harder, one hand coming down to grab a handful of your ass, you wrapping a leg around his and meeting him in the middle, increasing the depth of each thrust, both of you gasping at the tightness and the wetness, the messy slap and squelch echoing in the bathroom, water raining down on his broad back and spraying onto your chest, clenching around him so he could feel more, his eyelids fluttering, biting his lower lip, tendons on his neck popping out, and you realized he was trying not to cum, trying to hold back, so you gave his stiff length a particularly firm squeeze and Taehyung groaned, barely able to shoot you an incredulous look.

You grinned.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You felt it, his cock twitching and spilling into you, eyes widening at the sensation, not quite as strong as porn seemed to make it, but noticeable for sure, pushing out your juices in a rough sputter, loud and obscene, flinching as Taehyung’s hand quickly moved down, rubbing your clit, making you squirm and twist of his cock, almost falling off but he kept his other hand on your ass, digging his nails into the softness, holding you in place.

“Come on, come on, come on–”

It didn’t take much, you were already turned on by the fucking and then the sensation of being filled up, and you cried out, trying not to move your hips, the high peaking.

“Tae, fuck!”

Hot shivers and burning electricity tearing through your veins, jerking your hips forward and tightening around his cock, harsh throbs racking your body you came, pussy squeezing so hard that you felt his cock stiffen again, swelling and growing inside you as your orgasm roughly roused him back to life, both of you moaning at the sensation, feeling his cum and yours drip down your thigh, hearing it plop thickly onto the bathtub below and wash away, stunning both you and him at the lewd noise.

“Whoa…”

You panted hard, letting out a tense puff as he slid out of you.

“That felt… so fucking good…”

You thought for a moment, catching your breath. The pain your felt was only from cramps, although it seemed to be less now. Was that the ibuprofen? Or the euphoria of orgasm? You paused on consider the differences, chewing on your lip thoughtfully.

“I think for me it’s about the same? You feel very similar with and without a condom.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Not for me, you feel way better, I don’t know how I can go back, the condom is seriously a nerf…” he mumbled.

You shifted your eyes. “You didn’t last… the longest.”

His ears turned red.

“W… Well…”

“My pussy is pretty overpowered, maybe she needs the nerf.”

He sighed, frowning. “True… I still stand by the fact that it physically feels better, but more time to enjoy does even it out…”

You tapped your fist in your other palm. “Oh! Let’s do it from behind.”

He blinked. “Eh?”

But you were already turning around, Taehyung stumbling back, pushing the showerhead out of the way and pointing it towards the wall so he didn’t drown, audibly gasping as you bent over and presented your ass, hands spreading open your pussy with one fluid motion. You turned your head back and grinned.

“Yes?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.”

You felt him position the head against your opening and he pushed in, slow, steady, both you of moaning at the feeling, centimeter by centimeter, this position tighter, more heavenly, giving you added control over your muscles so you could pulsate around him. He inhaled sharply, gripping your hips and forcefully pushing in the rest of the way, bottoming out, balls smacking your clit.

“Stop t-that, fuck…”

You let go of your ass and placed one hand on the edge of the bathtub and the other on the wall.

Then you rocked your hips back.

“Ah, yes, Tae…”

“Are you trying to kill me? Oh, shit!”

You continued and Taehyung had no choice, fiercely grabbing your hips to try and get you to stop, but you were undeterred, so he had to ram his cock into you, exactly what you wanted, the sudden sensation of the head hitting you deeply rendering your speechless, and he had no time to gloat, too driven by lust and pleasure to taunt you even if he wanted to.

“A-ah, it’s good like this too, oh, fuuuck, yes, you always feel so fucking tight…”

He had a good rhythm and pace like this, deep, controlled, fast, making sure to give you the powerful thrusts you liked, loud, audible smacks of hips to ass, rough and wet, and you knew you had his cum inside you now along with yours and the added slickness of your period, and, sure, maybe someone found it gross, but in this second (and lucky all subsequent seconds involving this very behavior that would certainly continue at least once a month) you nor Taehyung gave a single fucking shit, pleasure flaring up your core, the dull ache of cramps forgotten, completely focused on the feeling of his cock entering you over and over, your hand on the wall curling into a fist, hitched breaths and flinching shivers taking over, clenching around him, oh fuck, his rock-hard, thick length plunging into your tight, wet hole, too much, so good, your thighs tensing from the overwhelming proximity of release.

“Taehyung, oh, fuck, you’re so good at f-fucking me…”

You could tell he wasn’t talking on purpose, probably clenching his jaw to last as long as possible, but he wasn’t going to last much longer because you smacked your palm into the tile wall, gasping his name loudly, shot into free-fall.

“Gonna cum, fuck!”

That was all the warning he got as your walls spasmed, brutally massaging his cock and he hissed your name, turning into a half-moan, half-whine as he yanked your hips down and slammed into your pussy, fully sheathing himself all the way up to his balls, his cock jolting and spilling his orgasm into you, his hands on your ass shaking so bad they seemed to be vibrating, gripping tighter and tighter, rolling his hips inside you and moaning, prolonging the euphoric feeling.

“S-So good… ah, yeeeeeees…”

It took him a while to still, breathing loud and hard, holding you in the bent over position, the additional time getting slightly awkward, but you waited it out, his grip finally loosening, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, your pussy too wet and his cock giving up, sliding out, a mess of juices splattering out of you.

Good thing you were in the shower. Easy to clean up.

“It’s… too good…” Taehyung huffed, broad shoulder leaning against the wall to hold himself up, still clinging onto you. “Your pussy does need a nerf, but, fuck, I’m still gonna think about it all the time…”

“Good thing for you that my period lasts at least five days.”

Taehyung looked up to the sky and whispered his gratitude.

“I know you kind of hate it, but I’m still going to thank them.”

“Maybe I have a reason to hate it a little less now. It’s still inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but going in raw…”

Mmm, yeah, that still sounded weird. Oh well.

“You’re not going to tell Jimin, right?”

-

“You let him go in raw?!”

“Taehyung!”

--

masterpost

[thesunicarusfellfor]

THE FUCKIN YANDERE GODS OMFG AWOOGA YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE FIC IS GOOD AS HELL!!!!

Is there any chance youd write a part 2 in the future? Its absolutely cool if you dont want to but WOW this concept? Solid gold (no pun intended)

I honestly love how people reacted to this story. It was so fun to write and became my most popular story to date. I'm such a sucker for the gods and mortals forbidden romance trope is just chefs kiss. Also, puns are always intended. Hand em over.

This chapter doesn't really involve the reader much, it's kinda more of a filler but I want this story to become a series, which means shorter chapters to separate the story. This is just simply a lore filler chapter.

TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered

Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please.

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza) Part 2

It was quiet, for once, but there was a soft wind blowing through the curtain-covered doorway that prevented most light from seeping through. Two figures stood in the other corner of the room, staring into the bronze bowl filled with liquid, watching the destruction they caused spread across the village of L'Manberg with darkened eyes narrowed into glares.

"They deserved it..." Philza murmured, likely to Chat who was resting on his striped hat, giving the odd little squawk or chirp every so often. He gave a sigh and popped a piece of bread he tore off into his mouth, giving a small piece to his whining bird afterwards.

"I don't think the mortals have ever seen you lash out at them in person... Usually, you just send your crows to destroy their crops when they annoy you." Techno chuckled softly as he stole a piece of bread from Philza which caused him to give an annoyed scoff and bat his hand away, "But-"

"YOU SUMMONED 10 WITHERS?" A voice boomed through the palace, causing Phil and Techno to sigh and back away from the dish displaying their destruction proudly, "AND KIDNAPPED A MORTAL?"

The blond rubbed his face and Techno took off his glasses while they both walked out the door. Walking down the polished quartz stairs, the two gods quickly came into eye contact with the source of the voice, as well as a few other visitors.

"You're just mad because we tried to kill your high priest, XD, don't pretend like you follow the rules either." Technoblade sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on, "And the mortal is none of your concern. We just did something about it, unlike you fawning from a distance over your mushroom boy."

Despite the cracked mask covering the god's face, everyone around him knew he was irked from Techno's statement. The three other gods behind him snickered into their hands until DreamXD snapped his head in their direction, the thin golden ring halos around his head gained a red glow to them.

The two brunets behind him immediately snapped their mouths shut, but the blond kept snickering away to himself, causing him to get smacked upside the head by one of XD's floating hands before he turned and stormed out the door.

"Ow! Bloody dickhead!" The blond groaned and rubbed the side of his head. The God of Mischief and Determination, Tommyinnit, scowled in the direction of the maniacal god before turning back to his father and Techno, "Ay Dad. Didn't take you for the destructive type! I hear you pulled a Techno and wiped out a village with Withers!"

"Yeah! The explosions shook the entire Upperlands!" Tubbo, the God of Bees and Chess, cheered a bit as his bee buzzed around him, getting specs of pollen in his fluffy hair and decorating his small horns.

Chuckling to himself, the God of Music and Insanity looked behind him at the sandy ground covered in a faint black fog, "XD was throwin' a tantrum. It was honestly the funniest thing to watch," Wilbur adjusted with the guitar on his back, "So where's the little mortal you kidnapped?"

"They're under a sleeping spell at the moment while the amnesia spell sets in," Phil gave each of his sons a brief hug as a greeting, "Then we'll have to alter their memory so they don't panic, but they'll have to stay up here permanently, their mind could be shattered if they do return to the mortal world."

"Shattered?" Tommy repeated, reeling back slightly as Wilbur summoned a leather book in his hand, opening it and scanning through the words, "That sounds like a pretty violent backlash..."

Phil and Techno avoided Wilbur's suspicious glare as subtly as possible, pretending not to see it, "Well... Remember, they're a mortal. Plus the strain of their home being destroyed, getting robbed, then getting kidnapped by gods and being brought to the Upperlands... Who wouldn't go absolutely mental? Then if they see the remains of their old village, it could undo all the magic that was placed upon them."

"Makes sense to me!" Tubbo chirped, his small goat ears wiggling as he held Chat in his hands, "Can we at least see them now and visit them when they wake up?"

Techno tensed up a bit but realized quickly that two of the three of the gods visiting them were too young to consider dating, and the third one was married to a human that he was trying to turn into a merling. "I... Suppose so. Just don't be too loud or the spell will break."

Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically, but the feathers behind his ears ruffled slightly to give away his excitement. Although, he was much better at hiding it than Chat, Tubbo's bee TC (Twitch Chat if you're wondering), and Tubbo, despite the fact that Chat actively visited (Y/n). Wilbur didn't seem to care much, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Or that was his insanity kicking in.

The avian nodded and began leading his biological and adopted sons through Techno's palace, Chat chirping away in his mind. 'Gods, that bird doesn't shut up...' Phil rolled his eyes up to the sky for a moment before smiling a bit to himself, 'Better than everything being dead silent I suppose...'

"In here. Now shut up. The spell won't work twice in a row." Techno hissed quietly before moving aside the crimson satin curtains to allow his old friend's sons into his rarely touched bedroom. The quartz room was kept dark via similarly coloured curtains blocking the majority of the light from coming into the room, while still allowing enough so they could see. A canopy bed stood proudly in the center of the room with golden posts and pure white chiffon silk curtains swaying lightly with the blowing winds.

Phil and Techno couldn't help but smile softly to themselves at the thought of seeing you again, even if you were asleep and, at the moment, void of memories and personality. Techno led the way inside and gently hooked his fingers around the fabric and moved it aside to let the younger gods see the mortal they had saved from the cruelties of the Earth.

The three gods carefully took their time studying you, trying to find what had their father and the anarchist totally entranced. Their eyes carefully took the time to study your soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, your beautiful (s/t) skin, and your silk robes that were ombre from red to white, accented with the very golden accessories that the high priest had tried to steal. (They used magic to put you in the new outfit. They're yanderes not creeps.)

"Oh... They truly are stunning. Are you sure they're a mortal?" Tubbo frowned for a moment, straightening up and pulling Chat away from your motionless figure so the crow would stop trying to peck at your jewellery.

"What do you mean?" Wilbur frowned at the younger god, his adopted brother. This had also caught the attention of the other gods

"I mean... Don't think they're a mortal, or at least they weren't born one..."

[rotshop]

hewwoooo i had a funney little thougt and so now im continuing it <33333

n e wayssss here's sum fnky little mag main 4 hcs :]

Hank

-the blueprint the man the myth the legend the firestarter. anyways

-he struggles a lot more with speaking than he did pre-magnification, he can understand it fine but when it comes to finding his words he struggles. so!! he kinda just uses asl when he can and short phrases / grunts / noises, also has his own kind of language w/ you??? lot of tapping and misc noises that just mean things only you two understand its. funny actually. he'll just make some chirping noise at you and you go 'haha yeah that was pretty dumb.' deimos and sanford are both so desperate to know what ur both talking abt its insane.

-carries u around a lot!! he's always super duper careful and he prefers to hold you in his more normal hand, he always gets worried about his talons poking you too rough or him accidentally shocking you if he gets surprised. also likes it when you ride on his shoulders, u also like it because it makes you feel tall :]

-his jackets fucking massive on you you could get lost in that bitch. sometimes if you two can't get back to base for one reason or another he'll just let you lay on him and use his jacket as a blanket for you,,its always super warm and he purrs so !! bonus points

-if u get hurt he goes fucking mental buuut i dont rlly wanna add a bunch of violence warnings to this,,,so,,,we'll leave it at that

-also he adores the size difference, you do your best to kinda cup the sides of his face in ur hands when he leans down for you and they're just??? so fucking small?? he puts his overs urs and just melts in ur hands lol

Sanford

-WOOOOO BESTIE FINALLY GT SOMETHING COOOL HELL YEAAAA /J

-he's VERY nervous around you for the first while, he's incredibly not used to his new form and he's so so worried about accidentally hurting you. his hands always just awkwardly hover around you whenever you're nearby bc he!! fucking wants to be affectionate but hes scared!! hank has to kind of. give him a whole pep talk on this sorta thing and it does help calm his nerves a little but he's still super careful,,,whenever he's holding you or cuddling w/ you he always asks to make sure you're comfortable and he isn't suffocating you or anything,,

-once he gets more adjusted then whooo bestie. he already liked showing off his strength to you before but now its worse. whenever he picks you up and you kinda yelp a little in surprise before you lean into him and hold onto him a lil he just goes bonkers on the inside. he's carrying you most of the time since it just keeps him cool knowing that ur nearby and ur safe in his grip. also tends to keep you behind him whenever you two are on missions (u have to kind of. get him outta this habit just a lil bc he keeps being a lil too paranoid abt it and freaks out when you wander off)

-has claws now which he's very careful of around you but if u ever just like. grab his hands and hold onto em and just kinda. trace over the callouses and scars and scratches then he melts. has to look off to the side or something because he has a big dumb grin on his face, it doesn't rlly help tho because you can hear him purring

-he doesn't talk too much since it feels odd and it's easier for him to keep it to a minimum,,HOWEVER,,the exception is you ofc lol. he murmurs little 'i love you's and such to you a lot still, though he has to be real careful of his volume but!! on the bright side deep-ass voice lol

Deimos

-terrible awful man who loves to cause problems for you <333

-he's like a cat in the sense that he's always hanging around you and bugging you to get your attention, cannot keep his hands off of u for more than 10 minutes. im so sorry 4 you,,,,on the bright side though he does have this kind of like. shaky and faint purring that's a lil fucked up bc of his smoking but it's pretty nice. really likes just leaning over you and resting his head on your shoulder or laying down by you and laying his head on your lap. will not stop pawing at you or making little 'chirrup' sounds at you till you pet him :| get a hobby king

-OH YEAH ALSO HES SO FUCKING HAPPY 2 BE TALLER THAN U LOL,,,rubs it in your face a lot by looming over you and resting his chin on top of your head or putting his shoulders on top of your head like a rest. you can counter this by just stepping forward / to the side because he WILL stumble and he will eat gravel and honestly?? he deserves it. also he really enjoys being big spoon w/ you, same as the previous point he'll sometimes just make u (read : annoy you until you oblige) lay down if neither of you are busy so he can curl up with you. again his purring makes up for it

-he's surprisingly the most animalistic, given he's got a tail and claws now. he likes putting you up on his shoulders or back and carrying you around like that (but also having you wrap ur arms around his neck while he's carrying you like. bridal style sorta and leaning into him is fucking HEAVEN to him. adores it). its fun until he gets on all fours and skitters around :|| u spray him with a water bottle bc of this and he hates it

-speaking of animalistic y'know how animals playfight w/ each other?? he does that with you. he still minds his strength ofc but sanford or 2b will be watching from the side and there's almost always at least one, 'fucking CHRIST deimos, be careful would you?' but yeah no it's usually very careful and its rlly just him roughhousing w/ you a little. usually devolves into him just trapping you down into cuddling w/ him lmao

2bdamned

-oh baby u dont even know.

-(un)surprisingly he's the most like his usual self. his intelligence didn't drop too much unlike the others (there's always at least one offended grunt from Hank when someone says this aloud), meaning he was able to mostly keep to his typical routine. HOWEVER,,he does get a little more laid back surprisingly?? like?? he still works most of the time but if you work alongside him it's a lot more common now for him to just stand by you a little awkwardly until you reach back for him so he can rest his head in the palm of your hand. ur the only one he allows to see him this vulnerable and openly affectionate so please enjoy that. his purring is a little quieter than the others but you can usually feel it instead

-has some funny fucked up wings now. he barely even notices that he does it but whenever you come stand by him he ALWAYS tucks one around you and pulls you closer. also has a habit of just placing one over you while he's laying next to you on his stomach like a blanket. they're sensitive tho so if you ask to touch them he's a little hesitant at first, he trusts you though so he gives in eventually. but. yknow. please do be careful, even just tracing along tender spots with your nails can make him jump a bit

-his speech is relatively the same, a little bit lower and rougher but not too much change. you can hear the little bit of scratchiness in it but !! yeah

-his touch starvation bites him in the ass like this. at first he was able to ignore it for the most part but after getting mag'd??? no gd way. its part of why he just kinda hovers around you a lot more, he's not too good at asking for things like affection so he just kinda. hopes you get the gesture. but on the bright side he doesn't mind if you mess up his hair because he's a little too blissed out whenever you're running your fingers through it. more than a few times has he fallen asleep on you because you were petting him,,,he apologizes whenever he wakes up but you can tell he was happy you let him rest around you like that

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

Just so I could call you mine part 2 - Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

It's finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, I've only really been able to write at night - my day's have been kinda busy at the moment. But it's finished. It's quite long so sorry about that. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as you enjoyed part 1:)

Also (following a theme here) this is loosely based off of the song 'Enough for you' by Oliva Rodrigo

* = time skip

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3503

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a month since the argument. Well, I say argument, but I think downfall of the one thing that made me want to get up in the morning would be more accurate. After I’d broken down on Emily’s shoulder that night, she took me back to her place. The whole time I was there, part of me kept wishing for the phone to ring and for it to be him. It didn’t feel real. For the first few days I clung to the shred of hope that he might pull me aside at work to apologise, tell me he was wrong and wanted me back. But seeing as this is my life, that opportunity never came. We hadn’t spoken since that night. Even on cases, he would find ways to avoid talking to me. I can’t say I blame him, he’s a shitty man. And when shitty men do shitty things, they tend to run from it.

I walked into the bullpen laughing with Garcia. All the girls had really looked after me and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Hey there pretty ladies” Morgan said, sauntering over to us.

“Why hello there handsome. Here to make us yours?” Garcia replied playfully.

“Only if you’ll have me.” Morgan bantered. Garcia just laughed before heading to her cave.

“So how are you gorgeous?” He said throwing his arm round my shoulder.

“I’m doing good. In desperate need for coffee. Don’t get me wrong I love Garcia but after only 3 hours of sleep, her bubbliness this early on has taken it out of me” I explained as we headed to the coffee machine. Derek dropped his arm and stood next to me, allowing me to make my drink.

“Only three hours huh? You having trouble sleeping?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, I just choose to run on as little energy as possible.” I retorted sarcastically, prompting an eye roll from him.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah I do, it’s just” I sighed looking down at my coffee.

“Hey.” Derek nudged my arm slightly. “What’s on your mind?” I chewed at the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

“I guess I’m still adjusting to sleeping by myself.” I admitted. Derek nodded, wearing a sympathetic look on his face. “It’s so stupid, I should be over this by now. I mean I am over him but it’s just certain things like…ugh I don’t know. It’s just stressful.” I ranted.

“It’s normal baby. You went from, what was it nine months?”

“Eleven.” I corrected.

“Right so you went from 11 months of having someone next to you all the time, to suddenly nothing. It’s bound to take some getting used to.” He reasoned. I knew he was right. But something about the way Hotch had essentially picked up where he left off with Haley made me feel so stupid for still being hung up over him.

“Come on, let’s go see if boy genius can tell us something fun.” Derek joked as we walked back to our desks.

***********************************************************************

The day was almost over, and we’d had no cases, which allowed us to sort through old case files and tidy things up. As boring as that may sound, it was actually a nice break from the horrors we see on a daily basis.

“Right.” Emily said, stretching back in her chair. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“And leave me here with the men?” I replied, pretend fear laced in my voice.

“I’m so sorry honey. You can do it I believe in you” Emily joked. The boys just swapped an annoyed look. “Sergio awaits me, so I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She said collecting her things.

“Bye Em.” I called after her. But just as she was about to leave JJ rushed into the bullpen.

“Emily stops where you are.” Emily groaned and turned around.

“Jayje I swear to god if you tell us we have a case, as much as I love you, I will be hurling my bag at your head.” Emily said. JJ just laughed at her.

“No, it’s nothing bad guys, but Rossi has invited us to dinner.” She said smiling. The way she looked at us made it seem like she was looking for some type of reaction.

“Okay? Something special about today?” Derek asked.

“Yeah that’s nice of him and all JJ but I’m really tired. Sitting in a crowed Chinese restaurant really wasn’t really what I planned to do tonight” Emily replied. JJ sighed.

“Fine. I mean if none of you want to come back to Rossi’s mansion for a bite to eat then I get that. Have a nice night with your cat Em.” JJ turned to walk away but at the sound of us all scrambling out of our seats, she turned back and laughed.

“Screw Sergio I wanna explore this guy’s house.” Emily said walking over to JJ.

“God you lot are so nosy” She joked as we all walked down to the parking lot.

“What do you expect? The guys a mystery so if there’s an opportunity to snoop of course we’d take it.” I chuckled.

“I just wanna see if he has a first drafts of his books lying around. I can almost imagine how much he left out.” Reid piped up.

“Of course, that’s what you wanna see pretty boy” Derek said patting Reid on the shoulder. We all hoped into our separate cars to go home and change before re convening at Rossi’s.

******************************************************************

The night was going great. It was so nice to be able to just take a night off – eat, drink, chat – without the stress of a case looming over our heads. Not to mention Rossi’s house was incredibly impressive. I mean if I could somehow make this man my sugar daddy and inherit this place, I’d be on it in an instant. Aaron was here, which didn’t surprise me. But what did is how relaxed he was. I’d seen it all the time when we were together but somehow seeing it tonight felt strange. Almost as if he’d dismissed the whole situation.

“Okay I wasn’t that bad guys.” Emily protested, snapping me from my thoughts.

“You told Spencer you were going to kill him if he didn’t stop being so loud.” Hotch said.

“That’s understandable on a hangover.” Emily reason.

“Em, I was just turning the pages of my book.” Spencer replied laughing. Emily spluttered over her words, but nothing came out causing the rest of us to join spencer. Suddenly the doorbell rang out. We all looked around confused.

“We’re not expecting anyone else are we?” Garcia asked.

“Um” Aaron cleared his throat.

“I think I might know who that is.” My heart sunk as he got up and walked to the door. Everyone swapped a look, trying to catch my eye but I just starred ahead of me. He wouldn’t have actually invited her. Right?

“Hey honey.” Her voice travelled through the halls causing my heart to not only sink even further, but completely shatter in the process. At least at work I could block out the fact he was with her but now he was just rubbing salt in the wound. Emily finally caught my gaze and shot me a supportive look. I just nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile. Eventually the pair of them came back.

“Hey guys, you know Haley.” Hotch said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Everyone greeted her politely enough, but it didn’t take a profiler to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

“Let me get you a chair.” Rossi said, going to stand up. “No, it’s fine, I’ll just sit here” She stated before promptly positioning herself in Aaron’s lap. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I couldn’t watch this. The seven of us sat in a cripplingly awkward silence for a few moments before JJ finally spoke up.

“So, um Haley, how’s jack doing?” She asked politely. “Oh, he’s doing great. Very happy to have his daddy around a lot more now.” Haley responded in a smug tone. As she spoke, she glanced over at me. Clearly noticing my appearance, she threaded her fingers through Aaron’s hair. I averted my gaze, opting to study the details of Rossi’s floor. I heard Hotch clear his throat, almost as if he wanted her to stop. “

I’m glad he’s happy.” JJ replied.

“So am I. Before it was just so hard what with his job and, well – other arrangements – Aaron barely had time for his own son you know. But luckily that’s all been dealt with now.” Haley leant forward and I heard her placing a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t take this anymore; she was clearly taunting me and as I much as I hated giving into her games – this was so much worse.

“Excuse me.” I said, standing up and heading towards the garden. It took everything inside of me not to break down right then and there. But the minute I reached the garden I lost it. The tears streamed down my face as I tried to quiet my sobs. My heart ached. It felt like everything was crashing down around me. My chest felt hollow. I thought I was over this, over him. I could feel my knees growing weak under me so opted to sit by the edge of the pool, in the hopes to grab some sense of normality. It was a nice night out. It was summer so still warm, but there was enough of a breeze to keep it bearable. I’m sure if looked up I would’ve been able to see the stars, but I was transfixed on the water. Suddenly I heard the back door open. I didn’t turn around, not wanting to face whoever it was.

“I’ve always wanted a pool.” Emily’s voice came from beside me. She sat down, placing her legs in the water next to mine. “I’d love to have this house too.” She stated taking in her surroundings. “What do you say, wanna take Rossi down together and claim all this for ourselves?” She asked nudging my arm. I let out a stiff chuckle but didn’t say anything. Emily took a deep breath before she spoke.

“I’m sorry you had to sit through that” Her voice was sincere. “I don’t know if Hotch invited her, or she just rocked up, but it was out of order either way.” I nodded not trusting my voice right now. “You should know, the rest of us were just as angry. Derek left a few moments after you. He went into the kitchen, but he didn’t come back. I had to send Spencer after to him just to check he wasn’t tearing the place up.” She said light-heartedly. That gave me some comfort, to know I wasn’t being overly sensitive. She let her words hang in the air for a moment and we enjoyed the stillness of the night.

“I just thought.” I began, my voice rough from crying. “That maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe they weren’t actually back together you know?” I turned my gaze towards Emily. She understood. That was one of my favourite things about her. No matter what the situation, whether she’d experienced it herself or not, she was always so deeply empathetic that it helped.

“Listen, nothing I say right now is going to make this any easier. Sure, I could sit here and tell you what a douche bag he’s being” I smiled at her words. “But I know that wouldn’t change anything for you. So, I’ve just come to let you know that we’re all here for you. Take as much time as you need, and when you feel comfortable, come back and join us inside.” She said squeezing my hand.

“Thank you Em. For everything.” She just smiled before standing up and heading inside. By this point I’d stopped crying. You know that moment of calm you experience right after you’ve stopped crying, just before the headache or tiredness kicks in, that is probably my favourite feeling. Which sounds somewhat depressing, but everything just feels so at ease in that moment. Unfortunately, I could not bask in it for long as I heard the back door slide open once again. Thinking it was Emily I called out to her.

“Please don’t tell me I’m going to come in there and see you forcing Rossi to sign us into his will.” I joked, turning around. But instead of being greeted with my friends’ heart-warming chuckle, I saw the man who’d caused this little escape to the garden. It was Aaron.

“Hotch.” I said surprised, scrambling to stand up.

“Hi.” He replied. He looked nervous, relentlessly fidgeting with his hands. It wasn’t normal.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t bother trying to make small talk. What would be the point?

“Um, well I…I just wanted to…” His voice trailed off as he looked to the ground. “Can we sit down?” He asked after a moment. I nodded and made my way over to the beautiful table Rossi had. Aaron sat down but didn’t say anything, just starred ahead of him.

“Are you going to talk or what?” I said bluntly. He looked surprised at my tone but cleared his throat before answering me.

“I just wanted to check on you.” His voice was low, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear what he was saying.

“Check on me?” I replied clearly irritated.

“Yeah I mean you just took off back there, so I wanted to make sure you were okay” He said literally looking anywhere but me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He’d spent a whole month doing the most to avoid talking to me and now, not only he dangles his happiness in my face , but he also has the audacity to ask if I’m okay?

“Yeah I wonder why that is?” I shot back. Hotch went to reply but I cut him off. “No no let’s think about it. What could have possibly made me leave? Was it the fact that Derek telling a story? Nope that doesn’t seem to be it.” I said sarcastically. “Oh, maybe Spencer was rambling about something random? No doesn’t sound right? Gosh I just – I don’t know what it could have been. You got any ideas” I continued. Hotch starred at me, annoyed by my games but not enough to reply. “Wait I remember, it was the fact that my ex-boyfriend just wanted to shove the fact that he’s moved on and obviously didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship further down my throat!” I concluded, standing up to leave.

“That is not fair.” He called after me. I stopped in my tracks, the anger growing inside of me.

“What? What about that is unfair to you?” I replied folding my arms over my chest.

“For you to say I didn’t care about our relationship” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. I scoffed at his words.

“Really? I think it’s perfectly fair considering how you’ve acted. It’s clear that you have no respect for me or what we were.”

“Just because I spend more time with Haley now doesn’t mean that I’ve just disregarded our entire relationship.” He sounded exasperated.

“Spend more time with her? Hotch she was practically fucking you on the chair in there.” I yelled. I’d tried so hard not to lose it but his lack of understanding right now was getting too much for me. “I loved you so much. I gave everything I had into that relationship, and you’ve thrown it all back in my face over one twisted story that your wife decided to spin.” I ran my fingers through my hair trying to calm down. The last thing I needed was for the rest of the team to hear this. Although I didn’t care if Haley did. That bitch. “I don’t know what I did wrong to make you choose her. Maybe I just wasn’t as interesting as her, but you could not have cared less about someone who loved you more. She dragged you down, manipulated you into believing it was your fault that she fucked those other guys. Or when she made you feel bad for choosing to stay in a job that literally makes the world as safer place for people like her or Jack. All I ever wanted was to support you and be there for you to lean on. I wanted to be that one person you could turn to when you felt like the world was crumbling down and you would feel okay. I just wanted to be enough for you. Because that’s what you were for me.” I ranted. Unfortunately, this time I’d been unable to hold back my tears, but I was hoping the darkness of the garden would hide that. Aaron looked crushed, almost guilty. Part of me hurt to seem him like that but another part reminded me he deserved it. I’d say he broke my heart, but he broke much more than that.

“You were that to me too.” He mumbled. His voice was so quiet I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. Clearly noticing my lack of response, he continued. “You meant so much to me and I can’t tell you how painful it’s been without you.”

“Doesn’t really seem like that” I scoffed. He sighed before walking over to me.

“Listen the thing with Haley-“

“If you’re about to tell me why you’re back together with her, please don’t. I can’t handle that right now.” I begged.

“No listen. We aren’t together.” His words took me by surprise.

“What?��

“The night everything kicked off, I’m not going to lie – I did believe her. I mean when she told me that you’d told JJ everything about the divorce, yeah I was mad. It took me so long to open up to you about that, you know the insecurities and the fact I thought Jack was going to resent me or not want me in his life. I trusted you and you just threw it out the window.” I starred at him in shock, unable to speak. Hotch being who he was picked up on my reaction. “What is it?” He asked.

“I can’t believe that’s what she told you.” I said utterly blown away by the fact that Haley was able to lie about something so huge with such ease.

“What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that’s not what happened?” He sounded apprehensive.

“It couldn’t be further from the truth. She called me to ask where you were and when you’d be home. She must have thought I was lying because then she called JJ. JJ told her she knew she’d rung me and then she hung up.” I explained. Hotch looked just as confused. “I would never tell anyone those things Aaron. No matter how much you hurt me.” He didn’t reply. He looked so torn. “I tried to explain that to you on the night, but you weren’t listening.” I spoke. That caught his attention.

“I know I just felt so betrayed I guess it blinded me.” He replied. “The only reason I’ve stayed as close with her as I have recently is because she was going to keep me away from Jack. I know she had no solid grounds to hold that to and we could have taken it to court if it had gotten that bad, but fathers hardly ever win full custody. I didn’t want to risk it.” He explained. I nodded.

“I understand.” I got it. Jack was his world. And losing him might have just broken him. “

I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am that I let her get between us. I should’ve known, I-I should’ve trusted you.” He rambled. He begun pacing back and forth.

“Hey.” I reached out a grabbed his arm. “Yes you should have trusted me, I’m not going to act like what happened didn’t hurt. But you’re not a mind reader Aaron. You believed the first story you heard. I get it.” I reasoned. Tentatively, he reached out and took my hands in his, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs.

“I missed you. Everyday.” He whispered.

“I did too. I loved you.” I replied softly. His gaze caught mine.

“Loved?” He asked his eyes wracked with worry.

“Part of me still does. I can’t just shut those feelings down. But what you did broke me. And I don’t want to risk that happening again.” I confessed. He nodded.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you. Because trust me, you’re all I want. And I’ll wait however long you need me to.” He replied. I smiled up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms travelled to my waist. Maybe we would get back together or eventually just drift apart, but right now I had my best friend back. And that’s all I cared about.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list: @jhiddles03 @rexit-mo @gothicwidowsworld @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @llilithsdaughter @azenpal @captainrogers-19 @ijustwannaread2k19 @spngirl05 @stiles-argent24 @joyofbebbanburg @romanogersendgame

[stilldani24]

Pain, but like, It’s Tolerable

corpse husband x platonic!reader oneshot

words: 1089

request: “corpse x reader where she’s a streamer but she’s very private about her personal life and she randomly goes awol for a week before coming back and steaming among us. during the game the others notice that she’s unusually quiet and she lets it slip that she had surgery and is kind of in pain and that’s why she isn’t talking much and everyone is concerned, specially corpse and then he texts her/facetimes her after they both stop streaming to make sure she’s alright and to scold her (like playfully) for not letting him know about the surgery” from anonymous

Your doctor told you to rest for a while, not to work out, and not do anything too strenuous. You knew exactly what to do during your recovery period, and that was play Among Us until you literally dropped from exhaustion. 

Okay, not really. But pretty close.

You were actually kind of nervous to go back to playing, especially since you had been pretty much AWOL for the entire week. You had suffered from a few health conditions throughout your life, and had numerous surgeries to fix them, or at least attempt to. Whenever you had one surgery, another one followed three or so years later. And after years of trying to get your kidneys to work with you, you had eventually gone into kidney failure and began dialysis while still trying to be a streamer and maintain your friendships with those you met online. It was hard, balancing everything while also being an adult who had to pay rent and shit, but you managed. All you had to do was pray that someone in your life was a match for you so you didn’t have to wait potentially years on the waitlist. 

Your sister was tested and came back as a match, and graciously donated her kidney so you could stop needing dialysis and have a long, happy life. You two now only had one kidney each. Kidney buddies. You should remember to make a shirt like that for Christmas to give to her. 

But the second day back from the hospital, you made your way slowly to your game room. You had an ice pack to your incision, wrapped in a towel of course, and slowly sat down in your chair with a soft grunt. After situating your pillows so you wouldn’t be in too much pain, you messaged your Discord group you were in with Corpse, Sean, Felix, and a few others that you were down to play. They immediately sent the game code and you hopped into the game, followed by joining the call. The lobby consisted of Sean, Felix, Corpse, Dave, PJ, Nogla, and yourself. Sean, Felix, and Nogla were streaming whereas the other four of you would just be vibing along with them. You would get back to your regularly scheduled streams when you healed a bit more, so you could be your normal loud and animated self while not worrying your viewers too much. 

“Y/N!” Sean greeted you enthusiastically, making you smile as your little purple avatar ran around the lobby of the game. “Where the hell have you been, we’ve been worried sick!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Corpse added, and you sensed a little smile behind his voice, but also genuine worry. “Where were you, yeah.”

“Oh, just had some personal business to take care of, don’t worry about me,” you responded casually, adjusting yourself a bit. It caused a little twang of pain, causing you to hiss quietly. “So, uh, what are we playing today?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek, you down?” Felix asked. 

“Oh, so down. Let’s go, boys,” you replied back with a grin. 

As you played a few rounds of hide and seek, followed by a few rounds of the school game telephone, and finally you guys put the lobby in 3x speed and raced around the map. The boys were all loud as hell as normal, and the race was hella fun, but if you laughed too hard, it hurt like a son of a bitch. Corpse had noticed after a while of your near silence, but didn’t say anything until his worry got the best of him. 

“Hey, Y/N. Are you sure you’re okay, you seem really out of it today,” he mentioned in the lobby between games. 

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, fine, I’ll spill. I didn’t wanna say anything while a few of you were streaming, but it’s alright. I got surgery a week ago. I had a kidney transplant after my kidneys failed, so yeah. I’m in pain right now, but it’s tolerable so I wanted to play with you guys. Kinda take my mind off of it.”

The boys were kinda silent after that. 

“No cap?” Corpse finally asked, making you laugh. While you were both Gen Z, the lingo sometimes got you when he used it in front of people who definitely were not Gen Z. 

“No cap, Corpse,” you replied, a smile still on your face. “Deadass though, I’m doing alright. I missed playing after not being able to for a week of being in the hospital so let’s get back to it, shall we?”

After a weird game of trivia, where Dave gave PJ the easiest question ever and the rest of you questions you couldn’t even think of answering, the lot of you stopped playing and exited the call to go about the rest of your days. Not even two minutes later though, as you were trying to get the strength to stand up, your phone began ringing with the familiar tone for FaceTime. You slumped back down into your chair before picking up your phone. 

“Hey, Corpse, what’s up? Miss me already?” you teased as you sat back in your chair, grunting a little bit from the movement. You were definitely not FaceTime ready, with dirty hair and sleep deprived eyes, but you were always down to talk to your best friend. You didn’t give a fuck what you looked like to him. Corpse had his camera off. 

“Damn, you look like shit,” he laughed, making you do as well. It was just the kind of friendship you had. “But what the fuck, dude? You were MIA for a week just to come back to say that you had a kidney transplant? The fuck?”

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, holding your arms up slightly in defense. “I didn’t wanna worry you. You already got shit going on in your life, you don’t need my problems tacked on as well.”

Corpse audibly huffed, and you could tell he was just rolling eyes. Playfully, of course. “Hell, if you needed a kidney, you could have fucking asked. I don’t know if I’d even be a match but I’d be willing to get tested.”

“Awe, Corpsie,” you teased playfully. “Genuine friendship? In this economy? Unheard of. But thank you, that actually means a lot. Where were you when I was on dialysis though, huh?”

“Well if you would have fucking told me--”

“Whoops, look at the time! Gotta go!”

[parkers-gal]

hey, hope youre good

i wanted to request a fic where peter fines f reader reading a fanfic (would be amazing if it were one of the other avengers fics) and gets kinda mad and jealous , but you tell him that you were reading it bc it was written by your fic writer friend who is insecure about her writing and wants you to read it first (fluffy or smutty ending) ily and ur writing <3 💋💕

peter just has abandonment issues and needs a lil extra reassurance sometimes </3

wc: 1k :p - also hope you’re good too !!!! <3

—

You consider yourself to be a person of many talents. Whether that be studying for advanced physics or memorizing the dates for your history class, you’re kind of a gentle learner.

It was at school during lunch when Layla, one of your friends from English class, was sitting with you and Liz and MJ and asked for a “beta reading.” She’d come to you specifically, and you couldn’t deny the girl with how vulnerable she was being. You’d insisted on reading whatever she was comfortable with and, after some consideration, she’d decided she’d send you the stories that night.

The trouble is, it’s a Thursday, which means Peter’s coming over after his nightly patrol. You’re insistent on reading Layla’s work, though — she wants your honest and most critical opinion on how to improve. She trusts you enough to take a hit, and you don’t really want to procrastinate reading this.

So, when the knock on your window rings through the peaceful air of your bedroom, you let out a simple “it’s unlocked!” and don’t take your eyes off the screen.

“Baby, how many times have I told you not to keep your window unlocked?” Peter chuckles while stumbling into the bedroom. His Spider-man suit is a refreshing black and red, and though you normally spend minutes gazing at Peter’s ass, you’re too into this story to really pay him any mind. “Baby?”

You inhale sharply, looking away from the words and rubbing your eyes. “Hey, Pete.”

“Hey,” he holds his mask with the other hand and strides over to give the top of your head a loving kiss. You’re sitting up against the headboard, space on the other side of the bed for Peter to sit. “Whatcha up to?”

“Just… reading.”

Peter hums before pointing to the bathroom. Nodding in understanding, you watch as Peter leaves the room to change into a hoodie and sweats. Immediately, you turn back to the story, which happens to be a reader-insert — a fanfiction, if you truly will — about the one and only Steve Rogers. Yeah, Layla has good taste.

“Still reading?” Pete says as he exits the bathroom and rolls his suit into a ball before shoving it into his navy Jansport backpack.

“Mhm,” you smile, making grabby hands for him. Peter chuckles but gives in, basking in your embrace for a moment before adjusting to sit next to you. However, as he’s getting up, his eyes take in the words on the screen, and his brows furrow.

“What’s this?” He attempts to grab your phone, but you pull it back to your lap.

“Nothing just some… writing.”

“Yeah, about what?”

“Just… stuff. It’s not really important.”

“If it’s not important then why won’t you let me see it?” He’s standing beside where you’re seated, looking at you in bewilderment. His hair is slightly tousled from the mask he’d previously been wearing.

“Because it’s… private.”

“Too private for your own boyfriend?”

“Peter-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “I wanna know what you’re reading.”

“It’s just writing!”

“Then let me see it!”

“No- Hey!” You exclaim as he quickly snatches it from your lap. Unfortunately, you don’t have insanely quick reflexes like the spider boy in front of you. “Peter give it back!”

His eyes scan the page, and you watch his finger scroll up and down on the screen before his eyes glance up from the screen and down at you. “You’re reading… fanfiction?” He says softly.

“It’s just-”

“About Captain America? About- about Steve Rogers?”

You blink and click your tongue. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal, Pete.”

“Why are you- what?” he shutters and shivers in thought. “You’re- what, is what we have not enough or something?” he says softly while sniffling.

“That’s not it at all, Peter,” you stand up quickly. “I swear- I promise.”

“I mean,” a bitter chuckle, “At the very least, you could be reading fanfiction about Spiderman. Not about some one-hundred-year-old man who kicked my ass back in Germany.”

“Peter,” you plead, “Please don’t be jealous. This isn’t what you think.”

“If it’s not what I think then why were you trying so hard to keep me from knowing?” You bite your tongue. Peter rubs at his eyes and his forehead in frustration. He drops your phone on the mattress and turns around to avoid your eyes.

“Are you angry at me?”

“I’m…” he swallows, “Sorta?”

“Are you…” you pause to gauge his reaction. “Jealous…?”

“No. What? No, I’m- of course not.” You hum sarcastically, teasingly, and Peter groans. “So what if I am?”

“Baby,” you run a hand through his hair and bring him up against your chest lovingly. “I’m only reading this for a friend.”

“What?”

You nod, “Mhm. She’s a bit insecure about her writing and asked me to beta read.”

“Oh,” he physically softens. “I’m sorry. That’s actually kinda sweet.”

You chuckle, linking your hand with his. “Besides,” your nose nuzzles his, “Why would I need to read fanfiction when I have you?”

Peter blushes and looks at the ground to avoid your eyes.

“C’mon. Don’t get all shy on me now.” You nuzzle his nose again and he hums in content, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“I still feel kinda guilty for getting angry.”

“Just forget about it, Pete.” You assure him, “It’s fine. I promise. I’d probably be angry too if I were you.”

“Yeah…” he exhales. “Can we still make out?”

A giggle escapes, and you nod, leading the two of you to your comfy bed for some late night kisses.

[mizunetzu]

Heyo!! Can I request a Kuroo x male reader, where yn goes to give him a love letter one day, but he sees him with his new girlfriend??? And he’s like-sad and he tears up the note and he moves on??? But then one day kuroo asks to talk to him, and he confesses to reader, but since reader already moved on he doesn’t accept??? Angsty ending if you will 💔💔💔 thank you, Mr. Mizunetzu !!

Hi paola ily paola hee hee

——————

Kuroo x reader - you did once...

⚠️Warnings - Kuroo gets a gf, angst, not so much of a good ending?

Pronouns- male, he/him

You can find part two here!

——————

“(Y/n), can I talk to you real quick?”

(Y/n) looked up from adjusting his loose kneepad, and wiped a bead of sweat rolling off his face. He turned his head to his teammates still on their diving punishment, and looked back at Kuroo. They just lost to another school again, but he got his punishment done rather early. “Mm? Okay..?”

He rose to his feet, following Kuroo out the gym door. The walk to a secluded place far, far away from the main gym was silent and awkward, not to mention suspicious. If Kuroo wasn’t one of his good friends, he would’ve thought he was about to be kidnapped. Or murdered.

Eventually, they stopped where the fenced pathway met the grass. Kuroo stopped ominously, further proving (Y/n’s) ‘serial killer’ theory. He turned around, facing (Y/n), and leaned on the railing.

(Y/n) stiffly held his hands behind his back. “So...” he rocked on his heels, trying to seem as casual as possible. “...what did you...need...?”

He was met with no response. Kuroo, instead, gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning a pale white. His eyes were downcast and he was sweating like crazy. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

(Y/n) stepped forward and crouched down, so he could see Kuroos face behind the mop that was his hair. He rested his palms on his knees, trying to decide what to say.

“...I...think your hair looks nice...today...”

If it’s one thing he hates, it’s awkward silence. Not to mention the suspense of waiting on someone to say someone possibly life changing. I mean, why else should he drag him out miles away from the gym during training camp?

“Uh-If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss our next match-“

“I need to get something off my chest.”

(Y/n’s) throat closed up. It was simple. The secluded area, Kuroo flushed face, fiddling and chipping the rust off the railing. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He’s been in this situation plenty of times, with girls he can’t even remember the face of. But oh how much he’d love to be in this situation a few months ago.

————

‘Just do it. just do it. God, just do it. Worse comes to worse, he’s straight. It’s not like he’s the type of person to de-friend someone because they like them!’

(Y/n) gripped the white envelope behind his back harshly, crinkling it on the corners. It had a red, heart shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Tetsu’ written in dark pink across the back.

Both Karasuno and Nekoma were bidding their new friends goodbye, all scattered across the parking lot of Karasuno. (Y/n) paced around awkwardly, looking for Kuroo’s familiar mop of black, messy hair. He was nervous, to say the least. Very nervous.

“Ne, Kenma,” (Y/n) placed a sweaty palm on Kenmas handheld game, pushing it down lightly and forcing him to look up.

“Mm.”

“Have...have you seen Tetsurou? I need to give him something.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, and nudged his head to the side. Sure enough, Kuroo was there, off in the distance and talking to someone he couldn’t make out. His back was facing towards them, and his hand was on his hip. (Y/n’s) heart pounded even more.

“Th..an..k...y-you...” (Y/n) gave a lopsided, very stressed out smile, and limped his way over to Kuroo. Kenmas eyes were drawn to the extremely obvious love-letter being wrinkled by (Y/n’s) sweaty hands. He pursed his lips.

He then looked up to the petite girl chatting with Kuroo. It wasn’t visible in (Y/n’s) line of sight, but it was to Kenma. He almost felt kind of bad.

(Y/n) stopped dead behind Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the ground as he ran through his memorized confession for the millionth time that day. He tapped on his shoulder, keeping the letter flush against his back with his other hand.

Kuroo turned around, and that was when his eyes landed on the brown-haired girl wearing an obviously oversized Nekoma jacket. From context of the scene, (Y/n) supposed it was Kuroo’s. He gripped the letter tighter.

The girl walked forward and extended her hand out. Her bubbly aura practically suffocated (Y/n). “Hi! You must be ‘(Y/n)’. Tetsu was just talking about you! You two are like—buddy buddies right?”

‘Tetsu.’ That was (Y/n’s) nickname for him. Only he got to call him ‘Tetsu’...and who gave her the right to call him by his first name?

(Y/n) glanced at Kuroo. Kuroo shoved his hands into his pocket and grinned. It wasn’t his usual shit-eater smirk, rather a genuine, lovesick dopey smile. A smile (Y/n’s) never seen before, not directed at him at least. It was a sight he wanted to burn into his mind, but at the same time, he wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“(Y/n), this is Yumi-chan. She’s our new manager.”

Kuroo stepped behind Yumimite, and draped his arms around her dainty shoulders.

“She’s also my new girlfriend~”

“Oh-hush it, you!” Yumimite turned around and berated Kuroo with small punches, earning a playful chuckled from the Kuroo. (Y/n’s) grip on the wrinkled letter loosened.

“...ahaha! Congrats..! When...when did you two get together?” If (Y/n) was good at anything, he was good at pretending to be interested in something. Maybe he should’ve joined the drama club instead of the volleyball club.

“Mm. We got together just last week. She gave me a love letter.” Kuroo patted the girl on her head, ruffling her neat brown hair and making her blush red. It looked like it felt nice. He wondered how it would feel to have Kuroo’s undivided attention, to be pat on the head like a blushing schoolgirl. To be a small, pretty girl next to Kuroo, to have the ability to call him ‘his’. All his nervousness simmered away, replaced by a strange ache of numb.

“Well, that’s awesome dude! Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to snag a girlfriend before me...” (Y/n) slouched dramatically, quickly hooking the letter in the waistband of his volleyball shorts and tugging his shirt over it. “Especially such a cutie like her! I’m (L/n), by the way...”

Kuroo chuckled, slinging an arm around Yumimite. “Don’t go flirting with my girl now. You have plenty of girls practically throwing their panties at you.”

‘Yeah...but I’m gay, Tetsurou. For you no doubt! I-I love you-!’

(Y/n) almost wanted to yell that out. And he almost did. But he chose instead to keep silent and laugh in response.

(Y/n) bowed slightly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I just wanted to say hi to Tets-uh, Kuroo...”

Kuroo tilted his head at the use of his last name, but brushed it off when Yumi hooked her arm in his. The couple bid their goodbyes, as they turned around and walked off. (Y/n) followed suite, turning around robotically and marching off.

Once he was a good enough distance away, he stopped behind a trash can and fished the letter out from his sweaty back.

He watched as the big pink words ‘To Tetsu’ bled and distort with every falling teardrop rolling down his cheeks. The water expanded and smudged the ink lighter and lighter until the words were practically indecipherable. You couldn’t tell it was a love letter anymore. Especially because (Y/n) ripped and trashed it up til it was a pile of pink and white paper shreds.

He tossed the stray flakes of soggy paper into the trash bin, watching as it fluttered and twirled tauntingly down the trash can. He quietly scrubbed at his red hot face, probably soaking his shirt with his salty tears. He rested his hands on the edges of the bin.

“Okay...” (Y/n) stretched up, spitting onto the concrete. “I...wonder...if my favorite ramen place is open...”

Strangely he didn’t feel devastated, or heartbroken at all. He just felt sort of numb. He didn’t feel the need to blast heartbreak music and cry out on his bed for hours on end. In fact, he was glad. Albeit a bit raw, and maybe a bit tired, but glad.

He got closure for the confusing feelings bubbling down his throat ever since he’d met Kuroo Tetsurou. He got his answer, and even if it wasn’t the preferred one, it was something.

The recovery process was easier than most people would think. It only took a couple long days to get him back to his prime condition. It was a given, since (Y/n) had so much other things to be worrying about. Midterms, volleyball practice, his friends. It’s a given that he would move on the things that was no longer on his priority list.

And Kuroo Tetsurou was no exception.

——

It was kind of pathetic to see such a high strung man like Kuroo so shaky and nervous. Though, he felt the same way three months ago, spending the whole golden week perfecting a letter he never got to read. What a hypocrite he was.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. “So...what did you wanna say?”

“I-just,” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Ah-I...give me a second...”

“Okay, take you time, Kuroo~” he stood back up to his full height, and leaned on the rail across from him. It was obvious they weren’t gonna get anywhere. “So...hows ‘Yumi-chan’ doing?”

“Ah. We broke up. She’s gay. She has a girlfriend now.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Though, good for her for snagging a girlfriend. No offense.” Kuroo mumbled out a ‘none taken.’ (Y/n) continued.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Her breaking up with you?”

“No! Actually, I broke up with her first. And it was...it was kinda mutual.” Kuroo sharply inhaled. “But it does have something to do with what I need to tell you.”

How could he be more obvious. (Y/n) forced a smile. It felt mandatory now. “Really? That’s interesting. Do tell.”

‘Please...Please don’t say it.’

“I broke up with her...because I had these...feelings.”

‘Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to know it.’

“And you know how she’s gay? Well, I think I am too.”

‘No shit Sherlock. I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been fiddling around with your hands like a schoolgirl. Stop it, so we can just be friends like we used to be. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t make me hear it. Please.’

“And...well...”

‘Don’t make me look at your crestfallen face when I say no. It’s too much for even me to handle. I don’t want to see that.’

(Y/n) knitted his eyes shut. A fierce shudder threatened to rattle him and cover Kuroo’s mouth, but he kept still, as difficult as it was. He braced for impact.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

(Y/n) pursed his lips and let his smile finally drop. Kuroo looked up from his trained gaze on the ground, only to be met with (Y/n’s) pitiful expression. (Y/n) never saw his face go from hopeful and love struck to devastated and heartbroken so fast.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. He was going to lay him down gently if it was the last thing he did. “...uh.”

He never said it’d be easy, though.

“If it makes you feel better...I did like you once, Tetsurou.” He only used his full first name during important situations, as he switched to using his last name instead of his first a long time ago. A lump grew in Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo jabbed at his chest exasperatedly. “T-then what’s the problem?! We both-“

“The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.” Kuroo fell silent. He was so prepared to do anything it took to win over (Y/n), but after standing in front of him now, it was clear. Watching as he looked down at him with a pitying expression that made his brain go numb. He would get no where if he tried.

“...a-anymore? You liked me before? When!? Why didn’t I know?!” Kuroo grasped fistfuls of his black hair, a cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He was so animatedly desperate it was kind of sad.

“Not too long ago. Though, you kept me waiting since forever. And I thought I could wait forever.” A sorry chuckle emitted from (Y/n’s) lips. “I watched you go though girlfriend after girlfriend, Tetsurou. You even introduced me to Yumimite when I was going to confess to you. How do you think that felt? Even I got tired of waiting.”

“You...you were...” Kuroo had never felt so helpless. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I would give you the love letter I wrote for you that day, but it’s in a trash can somewhere. Ripped to shreds. And I don’t remember the words I wrote. I’m sorry, Tetsurou.” (Y/n) sighed and patted Kuroo on the head.

“You missed your chance...”

Kuroo’s eyes stung, threatening to unleash hell, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. No matter what. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and stood back up.

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry aswell.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile conotated with pity.

“You did once.”

——————

Go sit there and stare at the wall in silence as you feel bad for Kuroo getting rejected by you. Go on, stare. Maybe then I’ll consider a part 2 (and if people comment or reblog asking for a part 2, hee hee.)

[lovetorn]

nightmare dressed like a daydream [dream]

Prince!Dream x Fem!Assassin!Reader

Summary: Y/n is an assassin, moving from kingdom to kingdom to eliminate targets. That’s until she meets Clay, the prince of Dreland, who takes a liking to her unbeknownst of her true intentions.

OR

“I don’t like her—I can’t. She’d kill me, George.”

Word Count: 10.6k (o_O)

Warnings: a lot of death & blood (murder, heart failure), weapons (knives), swearing, toxic relationship, unrequited love :(, mentions of abuse, parental issues — i think that’s all, but if you see anything, lmk!! it’s kinda cringe i use ‘clay’ so like pls ignore it sdfghjkgjh

A/N: this is the fic i’m most proud of :’). there may be a few plot holes and filler paragraphs btw lol. if you have any questions about this fic, shoot me an ask and i’ll be happy to explain, discuss etc. anything you have relating to it! yayyy! enjoy!

She isn’t meant to be here. As a matter of fact, she isn’t supposed to be alive at all. After her last job, Y/n found herself in trouble with the wrong people. She had managed to escape from the small village she was in and find new clients in lands far away—which brought her here, tonight, in the kingdom of Dreland, at a Masquerade in the King’s castle. 

She’s dressed in her best skirts and bodice, perfectly fit for the party and makes her blend in seamlessly. She doesn’t want to draw any unwanted attention considering her true intentions of being here. 

She walks along the edge of the ballroom, her skirts trailing behind her slightly, and the handle of her mask in her hand. Her movements are sharp and calculated but seem elegant to onlookers. Nobody suspects a thing. 

Soon, she’s moving into the middle of the floor and being surrounded by older men who extend their hands to ask for a dance. Y/n shakes her head and declines politely; she doesn’t need to cause a scene. 

There’s a stage on the other side of the room where the King and Queen sit in their grand thrones, and Y/n observes their actions, watching around them for one person in particular. She sees a young man exit the curtains with a platter. He wears an apron with a white fabric strip around his hair and holds the tray with delicacy. Y/n snarls when she realises he’s not the right one. 

She inches closer to the stage, going to adjust her mask and purposefully dropping it. She watches as the object clatters on the floor and sighs exaggeratedly, waiting for someone to assist her. As planned, a pair of shiny black shoes arrive beside her mask, and the person leans down to grasp it from the polished timber. 

“I think you dropped this, Ma’am.” 

Their eyes meet—or at least she thinks they do; the badly drawn smile on his mask is distracting and incredibly unsettling for an event such as this one. Y/n knows who he is though, even behind the mask. He is her target. 

“The Prince?” Y/n exclaimed in bewilderment. “Mr Wilbur, Sir, do you know how hard that’ll be?” 

The older man rolls his eyes before he glares into hers. “I was told you were the best in the business. Do you want the 50 gold or not?” Y/n nods. 

“Good. Now, I give you three weeks to complete this, or you get nothing but excruciating death.” 

The tall man peers down at her. His head is tilting to the side as he takes in her appearance. “Who are you?” 

Y/n was waiting for this question. She simply laughs and takes her mask from his grasp. “I was invited by a friend of mine. She seems to have disappeared since I’ve been over here, though.” 

Her disappointment of an excuse has the man nodding—he’s taken the bait. “Interesting.” 

Y/n smiles awkwardly, the atmosphere of the room shifting slightly. She hates situations like this. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asks, and Y/n’s eyebrows raise. “Excuse me for my informality.” 

Y/n shakes her head, giggling lightly as she grabs his hand and drags him towards the exit. He’d usually never stray far from events such as this, but seeing a girl his age and ready for adventure changes his attitude. 

Sneaking out past the guards, who pay no mind to two people in masks at a Masquerade, the pair step into the fresh air outside.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asks, already knowing his answer. 

“Uh—Clay?” His response sounds more of a question than an answer, which makes Y/n cock her head. 

“Why do you make your reply sound like that?” 

“Sorry,” He laughs. “Most people call me Dream. I’m the Prince of Dreland.”

False realisation crosses Y/n’s face as she facepalms. “Oh my! I’m so sorry, your highness.” 

Dream shakes his head vigorously. “No! No need for formalities, truly. I’m wonderful with being normal for once.” 

He hesitates before unclasping his mask from behind his head. The ceramic object falls slightly before he catches it and then he’s looking at Y/n properly.

Dream’s hair fluffs up lightly before he runs his hand through it to tame it. Y/n holds her mask in her hand as she watches him fix his appearance. 

“Now that I’ve told you mine, what’s yours?” 

Y/n is wary of her answer. On the one hand, she could lie, and on the other, she remembers that he’ll most likely be dead soon, so she shouldn’t lie. 

“Y/n.” 

Dream smiles at her. “Pretty.” Y/n thanks him and then they stand silently next to each other, the guard near the front door inching closer. 

“Do you want to go somewhere more private to talk?” Dream asks quietly. Y/n smirks whilst nodding—she didn’t think she’d be finished the job this quickly. 

Dream throws a glance back at the guard before he leads her towards the garden. The moon makes it hard to see the path, but they get there eventually. There’s no talking as they walk, the pair far too busy taking in the beauty of the moonlit garden.

The dirt beds are filled with rose and sunflower bushes, the scent creating a solacing hug around Y/n as she goes to sit next to Dream on a bench. The cold air bites at her skin, causing goosebumps to gloss her body. 

She usually isn’t nervous about committing murder, but Dream makes her uneasy. The way that his eyes glance at her worryingly and the harsh tension in his shoulders tells Y/n that Dream’s definitely had this happen before. Y/n bites the inside of her lip; she’d have to be very cunning to gain his trust. 

The garden in itself provides her with a sense of comfort. It reminds her of her flower bed at home. 

“So, why do they call you Dream?” Y/n asks. Her attempt at trying to defuse the awkwardness works as Dream twists his lips in thought.

“Uh—well, my mother used to say I was her ‘miracle’ and then believed the word was overused and cliche, so she came up with Dream; and it stuck—clearly.” 

Y/n nods, a soft smile gracing her face as she turns to him. “Well, I think that’s lovely.”

Dream blushes, although it’s hard to see through the night. “Really?” 

“Yeah! That’s beautiful.” 

The pair sit in silence, revelling in the moonlight before Dream speaks up again. “Would you like to see the lake?” 

Y/n contemplates before she replies. “Sure.” 

She had no idea why he’s taking her there, but it’s a sign that she’s gaining his trust. 

—

“You don’t know how to skip rocks?” 

Dream shakes his head at Y/n, who sits with her jaw open. “How?” 

He then shrugs, toying with a small pebble in his palm. “Teach me?” 

Y/n nods and takes the rock from him before standing and shuffling towards the lake. She gets into position, her arm bent at an angle beside her body. 

She takes a glance back at Dream to make sure he’s watching, which he is. “All you need to do is put your arm back like this, and then sweep it forwards and let go of the rock. Make sure you do it quickly, or it won’t work.” 

Y/n exhales and throws her arm, the rock hopping along the glassy water before it plops into the depths. 

She spins around with a smile on her face. Dream squints at her; he seems to be analysing her actions. He sighs and plucks a rock from the ground, standing and walking over to Y/n. 

“Ready?” She asks. Dream nods while getting into the same stance Y/n was in only 20 seconds ago. 

He looks down at the pebble for a moment and then throws it as Y/n said. Dream watches as the rock skips across the pond, creating ripples in the smooth water. 

Dream leaps around, his eyes wide. “I did it!” 

Y/n can’t help but laugh at him, the pure joy he feels influences her too. “You did!” 

Dream sighs heavily and goes back to where they were sitting. He flips back onto the ground, avoiding the sharp rocks protruding the sparse grass. He laughs out loud again, who knew something as trivial as rock skipping could make him feel so alive. 

“You’re cute; you know that?” The sudden compliment elicits a blush and a groan from Dream as Y/n nears closer. She smiles down at him. “There must be a lot of things you haven’t tried.” 

The statement makes Dream’s heart drop. It’s true, there are many things he hasn’t done. “Yes…” 

Y/n’s heart spasms in her chest. Poor guy.

“Ok. Well, I’ll make it my mission to make sure you get them all done before your time comes.” 

Dream looks at her. There’s an adoration that swims around in them that inclines Y/n to feel uneasy again. “You mean that?” 

The girl nods whilst she goes to lay next to him. “Everybody deserves happiness before they die.” 

Dream scrunches his nose up, going to disagree before Y/n interrupts. She doesn’t know why she has the sudden urge to say such a thing, but her chest aches when she looks at him. 

“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Dream. I’ve only known you for half an hour, but I feel so uneasy around you.” 

This catches Dream by surprise. He tilts his head at Y/n, who covers her face with her hands in embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry–“

“No need to apologise, Y/n. You make me uneasy too, I guess.” 

She peers at him between her fingers and then lowers her hands. Y/n lets out a small laugh at his red cheeks and imagines a flush creeping across hers too. 

“Uneasy in what sense, may I ask?” Dream’s innocent tone makes Y/n’s ears blush. 

“In the sense that you're unpredictable, in a good way. I’m always up for an adventure.” Her description is slightly confusing, but Dream understands.

Above them, the oak trees rustle lightly in the cool breeze, and tiny waves begin to ripple onto the sand meters in front of their feet. The sound of water rushing forwards and then pulling back calms the rapid beating of their hearts. 

“I guess I could say the same for you, Y/n.” 

“Prince Clay, I have breakfast and a message for you.” 

At the sound of his assistant at his bedroom door, Dream groans from his place in his bed. “What time is it?” 

“10 am! Get up! I have a message for you if you didn't hear me the first time!” George teases, holding the paper between his fingers; he’s eager to open the letter. 

“George!” Dream calls, grabbing his pillow from beside him and shoving his face into it. 

“Clay!” 

Dream sighs loudly and throws his heavy duvets off of his body, stalking towards the door to unlock it. He swings the door open to see George with a scroll of parchment and a tray with a lid in his hands. Dream’s eyes widen at the sight of breakfast, but George shakes his head. “I have to read your message first.” 

Dream rolls his eyes and tells George to hurry up as he struggles to unravel it. 

“Ok! Calm down. Uh—it’s from someone named Y/n? Do you know—” George is rudely interrupted when Dream freezes, then smiles. “Yes!”

“Oh, well, she asks to meet you at 9 pm at the place where rocks hop—what does that mean?” George’s face scrunches up in confusion, but Dream sighs, and this time it’s in contentment and not in annoyance. 

“Perfect! Thank you, Georgie. Guess I’ll see you later.” Dream snatches the tray from his assistant with his free hand, the other grabbing the piece of paper. George goes to interject before Dream steps to the side and slams the door in his face. 

George stands in bewilderment behind the door. His heart aches slightly, and he’s not sure what from—maybe it’s the way Dream discarded him or because of the letter. But he certainly knows Dream has never mentioned anybody called Y/n before. 

Maybe they’re just friends? Perhaps they only met last night at the Masquerade?

George scolds himself for his ridiculous thoughts and spins on his heel, heading for his own room. He hesitates before he leaves, hearing Dream let out a shout of excitement. At the sound, George pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and exhales; sadly, the situation brings tears to his dark eyes. 

They’re probably just friends. 

—

Dream sits anxiously on his bed, his head in his palm as he watches the clock tick. 8:39 pm. 8:40 pm. 8:41 pm. 

His heart skips a beat as it reaches the time to leave. Dream leaps from his spot on the bed and goes towards his mirror on the other side of the room. His hands come down to straighten out his dark waistcoat before they move to his hair. He curls his lip up at the sight of his unruly locks and sighs, choosing to ruffle it up slightly rather than putting gel in it. 

Taking in his appearance, Dream nods to himself. If he goes towards the Astronomy Tower and then loops towards the lake, he’ll arrive at precisely 8:58 pm; perfect timing. 

The night is clear, and the stars look amazing from where Y/n sits on the grass next to the lake. She leans back on her elbows as she takes in the view. It’s whimsical. 

Thoughts of murder and pursuit place a dark cloud over the magical evening. Y/n bites her lip and stares at the rippling water in front of her. The lake looks ominous enough to hide a body in or cover up a vast amount of blood, and the dense foliage across the lake is enough to conceal a weapon in. However, Dream is the Prince, and there is no doubt that everybody in the kingdom would be looking high and low for him if he were to go missing. 

Y/n’s plans go down the drain. It shouldn't be this hard! Wilbur Soot trusted her to do this, and if she doesn’t go through with it, she is guaranteed death.

She groans loudly, bringing her hands up to dig the heels of her palms into her eyes. Y/n could cry at the idea of failing and being a disappointment, even to people she doesn’t even know. 

The rustling of the bushes behind her indicates Dream has arrived, but she doesn't move from her position. Instead, she chooses to gain his sympathy and find a way to manipulate him to make it easier to go through with the assassination. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Dream rushes towards her, dropping beside her on the grass. Y/n sniffs and shakes her head. “What happened?” 

Dream places his hand on her back, softly. The act in itself makes Y/n jump; she’s not used to physical contact. 

“Sorry.” He apologises when he sees her startled, deciding to move his hand away and place it back into his lap. 

“No, you’re fine,” Y/n lets out a teary laugh. “I—erm, I just found out that my father divorced my mother, and he took the farm and cottage away from her.” 

Her hands fall to her lap hopelessly, and Dream’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? I’m so sorry, Y/n.” 

The girl shakes her head. The pair sit in the dark, the moon being the only thing illuminating their faces. Y/n thinks she’s hit a dead-end until Dream sighs and continues speaking.

“I can actually relate if it makes you feel better,” This makes Y/n’s ears perk up. “My father has been going to L’Manberg on ‘business trips’, but I know why he’s really leaving.”

Gotcha.

“Clay, I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t reply and reaches over to grasp Y/n’s hand. Dream wears a crestfallen expression, his eyes glassy as he looks out over the water. Y/n feels a pang in her heart at the sight of the upset man. 

“I used to think that they had a good relationship,” Dream starts. Y/n doesn’t have the will to hear his perspective on it, afraid that she’ll actually feel bad for him and lose any motivation to kill him. “Until I went for a walk one night through the halls in the castle. I heard voices in my parents’ room and wanted to say ‘goodnight’, but before I could, I heard glass smashing and terrible cries.

“I was only a child, but I knew what was happening. I didn’t want to believe it at first because why would the King and Queen do such horrible things to each other? But as I got older, I realised that they had fallen out of love and are only faking it for the kingdom.” 

“Clay—” 

“They don’t know that I know all of this; they think I’m as clueless as I was when I was nine. But I’m twenty-one now, and I know everything.” 

Y/n screws her lips up, her throat burning with emotion. Why is she feeling like this?

“I don’t know what to say.” And it’s true. Y/n remains speechless as she listens to Dream tell her about his parents. 

“Nothing. I just needed someone to know.” Dream is blunt with his words and releases Y/n’s hand. She feels awful for not being able to help him in the way he needs, but she’s not here to be his therapist—she’s here to murder him. 

“Hey, how about we lighten the mood with some rock skipping?” And that’s just enough for Dream.

—

“Where are you staying?” Dream asks. Y/n is caught off guard by the question but tells him her orchestrated answer.

“In the castle, actually.” 

Dream turns to look at her, a lopsided smile on his lips. “Really?” Y/n nods. 

In an attempt to change the subject, Y/n picks up Dream’s hand from his lap. “Enough about me. Tell me what your favourite food is.” 

Dream gives her a confused look before replying. “Vanilla cake.”

Y/n hums and fiddles with his fingers. “Interesting.” 

Dream throws his head back to gaze at the moon above them. He is comfortably content at this moment with Y/n, despite only knowing her for a day. His eyes widen before he scrabbles to stand hastily. “I gotta go! You want to walk back together?” 

“I’m going to stay here a bit longer, if that’s alright with you.” Y/n smiles at him and Dream nods. It is reaching midnight and Dream knows he’ll be in trouble for being out so late. 

After he bids goodbye to Y/n, Dream begins his journey home. He hears wolves howling from behind the walls that surround the castle and goosebumps rise on his skin. It’s expectantly silent for the time of night, the only sound being animals as they scavenge. 

Dream’s footsteps are heavy on the pathway back to the castle, and his heart rate picks up at the sound of trees rustling. With his head on a swivel, Dream spins around to face the bush. He sucks his lips between his teeth and continues, checking back every once in a while, to make sure he isn’t being followed. 

He sees the grand entrance of the castle and his feet quicken. There’s a sudden whoosh behind him and then a breeze. A twig snaps in the distance and instead of running, he slows down. Dream forces himself to calm down—he’s only scaring himself. 

“Dream~” A voice sings into the wind. The tune has Dream sprinting to the doors, his heart beating out of his chest. Surely, he didn’t hear what he thought he heard. 

The wooden doors are heavy as he pushes them open before he stumbles inside. Dream is quick to close them once more, locking them in the process. He’s safe now, right?

A sliver of white ripped fabric floats in the wind on a spike outside of his window. Dream eyes it suspiciously, that wasn’t there last night. 

He stretches his arms out, his joints cracking as his stare remains trained on the material. An uneasy feeling rises in his chest before his bedroom door opens suddenly. 

“Clay~” His assistant, George, sings. He holds a tray in his hands and a beaming smile on his face. “Breakfast!” 

“Hi.” At Dream’s wavering voice, George places the tray on the table and stalks over to the Prince.

“What’s wrong?” He sits on Dream’s bed and tries to meet his gaze. 

“Somebody’s after me, George,” Dream whispers, his fearful eyes are staring into George’s.

“How do you know?” 

“I just know.”

“Well, we have to inform the King and Queen at once, Clay!” 

Dream shakes his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine; besides, I’m inside the castle for most of the day anyways. There’s no way anybody like that could get in.” 

George goes to interject but knows better than to do so. He trusts Dream, more than anyone else; if he says he’s fine, then he’s fine. Right?

“Ok… but if anything happens, you tell me. Got it?” George says his voice stern. Dream hasn’t heard this tone since he attempted to run from the castle last year after an argument with his parents. George had been scared out of mind when his best friend—the prince—was reported missing. 

“Has this got anything to do with Y/n, perhaps?” Dream is bewildered that George would say such a thing. “No! I trust Y/n. She could never do such a thing.” 

George nods timidly and apologises before he stands. “Breakfast is on your desk. I’ll be back later to collect the plates.” 

Dream furrows his eyebrows as he watches George sulk. Why does Y/n worry him so much? 

—

Dream walks in the moonlight along the high walls that surround the castle. If anybody knew he was out at this hour, he’d be in so much trouble. It wasn’t that his parents didn’t trust him; it was everybody else.

When he was younger, a groundskeeper had led him outside the gates with the intent to sell him off. The experience had left Dream untrusting to many, and although he was much older now, much more robust, he had a hard time getting to know people. 

An owl hoots from the tree above him and the moon hangs behind its body, casting a shadow onto the dirt beneath. The silhouette is ghostly, and the sight makes the creature look much more sinister than it is. 

Dream stops in his place and watches as the owl hops along the thick branch, the rustling of the leaves distracting him for a moment. The bird then pauses and turns to look at him. Dream smiles softly and whispers, “Hi, little owl.” 

Much to his surprise, the owl actually hoots back. The sound makes Dream’s eyes widen as he continues to speak quietly to the bird.

A twig snapping behind him causes the owl to flap its wings and shoot off into the night, making Dream frown. He sighs before turning around with the intent of going back to the castle. He’s been out for long enough anyway. 

His mind drifts to Y/n. He wonders where she is, his heart skipping a beat at the mere thought of her. It is ridiculous really, how quickly he’s fallen for a girl he only met a few weeks ago. But he knows she’s different from the princesses his family has tried to set him up with. Y/n is different in the sense that she actually makes him nervous—lovestruck, even. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat catches Dream’s attention, and then he turns to his right to face the noise. 

“Dream.” A voice says. 

Dream freezes. His heart picks up speed as he’s met with a person, a mask covering their face. His hands begin to shake as the person draws closer.

As they approach him, Dream can tell it’s a woman. As sexist as it is, he knows he could take her if they were to engage in a fight. Dream scolds himself at the thought, and his frightened expression goes slack.

“Who are you?” He exclaims, pushing his hair from his eyes to get a better look.

“I’m here on orders from someone to kill you.” 

Dream’s heart skips a beat. He knew it. 

“I know.” 

The girl stops in her place. “How?”

“I could feel it,” Dream gulps. “It’s happened before.” 

The girl nods and lifts her arm. Dream squints into the darkness to see what she is doing before he’s being pushed backwards. He stumbles slightly before he regains balance and begins running. 

“Dream~” The girl sings, her voice slightly distorted. Dream hears her loud and clear as he leaps over tree roots and dirt mounds. 

“Leave me alone!” 

She laughs and picks up speed behind him. Dream is shocked by how quickly she’s gaining on him, but he persists, nonetheless. A crooked smirk spreads across his cheeks as he looks back at her. 

“I can’t do that.”

Dream’s lungs and throat burn as he draws in breaths. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, and his knees begin to buckle as he prepares his arms to catch him when he falls. He doesn’t run much. But despite the pain, a sly grin continues to play on his lips.

Dream’s feet give way below him, and then he’s tumbling onto the freshly mown grass. He’s run a long way, now lying in the garden rather than being in the forest. The moon sits high in the sky and shines down on him intensely. 

And although he’s scared for his life, Dream can’t help but feel a little relieved. He moves to sit back on his heels as the girl comes up in front of him, a dagger drawn in her hand. It’s like a game to both of them. 

“I’ve got you now, Dream,” 

“It seems you do.” 

The masked girl’s dagger presses firmly against his throat. The blade gleams in the moonlight, and the pressure elicits a groan from him. 

Dream smiles as a drop of blood cascades down his chest. He enjoys the feeling a little more than he should, and the glint in her eye shows him that she does too. Why are her eyes so familiar? 

“But I’ll spare you.” 

Dream’s eyebrows furrow as he watches her pull her knife away from his neck and shove it back into the slot in her boot. “Why?” 

The girl sighs, her arms relaxing by her side. “Because I—something’s telling me I should.”

She turns on her heel, looking around before she ducks into the line of trees behind them. 

Dream exhales deeply, relieved—the small cut on his throat stinging as he tilts his head up to stare at the moon. He’s vulnerable in this position; on his knees and unarmed. Who would spare the prince if they had the perfect chance to kill him? What made her change her mind? 

In his conversation with the moon, Dream thinks about the girl’s eyes and why they were so familiar to him—and why she spared him. He squints at the full moon, begging for answers, trying to remember where he’d seen such beauty. 

His dazed smile is quickly wiped from his lips, and the realisation knocks the oxygen out of his lungs, and soon he’s gasping for air and clawing his chest—it’s Y/n. 

Dream sits at the long dining table with a new plate of eggs and turkey. 

“Dreamy, darling, are you going to eat?” The Queen asks, her head lolling to the side as she talks to her son. 

Dream’s lips twitch as he shakes his head. “Not that hungry.” 

Y/n was on the verge of killing him last night. 

“Oh? Are you feeling okay?” 

Dream then nods, resting his cheek in his palm. His hair is messy, and his clothes remain skewed from sleeping. He usually didn’t present himself like this at breakfast. 

“Yes, perfectly fine. I’m sorry for not looking presentable this morning.” 

His mother sighs, her hand reaching out to grasp his free one. “That’s alright.” 

Dream gives her a tight-lipped smile and squeezes her hand. He notes that her ring finger is bare but decides against saying anything. 

“Where’s dad?” He asks instead. His mother stills, her face unreadable as she nods once.

“He had to leave this morning—business in L’Manberg.”

Dream doesn’t speak and lifts his hand, picking up his fork. The action elicits a soft smile from his mother. He stabs a slice of grilled turkey and brings it to his mouth.

—

“Clay!” 

At the sound of his name, Dream turns around. 

It’s after breakfast and Dream stands in the corner of the ballroom gazing out of the large windows that look onto the back garden. The head cook, and one of his best friends, Nick, is approaching him. “Nick?” 

His friend laughs, untying his apron from behind his back before he lays it over the end of one of the sofas. Dream steps forward to embrace Nick in a hug. “How have you been?” 

Nick contemplates his answer before he responds. “Flippin’ awesome.” Dream’s jaw goes slack at the cooking pun and chuckles. 

“Ha, ha. SO funny.” 

The pair pull away, and Dream faces the window again. The sapphire butterflies that flutter around the apple tree outside bring him a sense of comfort as Nick comes up beside him. The pair bask in warmth from the sun, the window making it much hotter than it is. 

“I’ve missed you, man. The kitchen’s been boring without you sneaking in.” Nick frowns and Dream feels his stomach drop. He takes a glance at the shorter man and sighs. 

“I’m sorry, bro. George said it’s ideal for me not to sneak around at night because—” 

Dream’s breath hitches in his throat, eliciting a cough. Nick shoots him a look. “Because of what?” 

“Erm—uh, I guess there’s somebody after me.” 

“What? Really?” 

Dream nods, wiping his nose with his fist. Nick struggles to find the words to say. “You don’t need to say anything; I don’t expect you to. I just thought I should let you know.” 

Nick exhales deeply, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through his hair. “That’s rough.” 

“Yeah,” Dream whispers. The two of them stand in silence as they watch the insects fly around in the sunlight. “Come here.” 

Then Dream’s pulling Nick into another hug. This time, their embrace means something, and Dream knows it’ll be one of the last times he sees his best friend. Be safe. I love you.

A sniffle from Nick prompts Dream to push him away at arm's length, his hands resting on his shoulders. The younger man complains about how embarrassing it is seeing him cry, but Dream shakes his head in assurance. “It’s okay—I’ll be okay.”

“I hope so; I can’t imagine this place without you.” 

Dream sits on his bed, silently. He recalls the events from last night and exhales deeply. A million questions run through his mind as he shifts positions, now choosing to lay on his back and stare at the high ceiling. His fingertips come up to brush the scabbing cut on his neck. 

Why did he somewhat enjoy the blade against his neck? Why wasn’t he scared when it pierced his skin? Would he tell George? But most of all, why was Y/n after him? He trusted her–didn’t he?

A sudden knock on his bedroom door and the quiet sweep of paper against wood brings him from his screaming mind. He sits up abruptly, spotting the piece of parchment on the timber floor. Dream glances out of the window quickly and goes to snatch it from the ground.

The crinkling of paper is loud as he rushes to open it. 

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at noon. 

Dream’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. Y/n wants to meet with him. Would she mention what happened last night? Does she know he knows it’s her? Is she planning to kill him right now?

Another knock makes him jump. But this time, it opens. 

“Clay?” 

“George!” Dream exclaims, pulling his assistant by his sleeve into the room, the door closing behind them. 

“Uh, yes?” George is confused at Dream’s jagged movements. Dream shoves the letter into the older boy’s hands and waits for his reaction. When George doesn’t reply, Dream rolls his eyes.

“It’s from Y/n!” 

“Well, you have to go.” 

Dream is both shocked and relieved. “I have to go?”

George nods. He reads over the letter one last time before he gives it back to Dream. George squints when he notices his friend’s slightly pink cheeks.

“Why are you blushing?” 

Dream immediately coughs in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment. George keeps his eyes on him as he does so, screwing his lips up in slight irritation that somebody can make Dream flustered. 

“Oh! Do you have a crush?” George teases, although it’s more of an accusation than a joke. Dream laughs, shoving him away. George chooses to ignore the tugging at his heart when he hears the Prince giggle like that. 

“I don’t like her—I can’t. She’d kill me, George.” Dream jokes, patting his friend on the back. But is he really joking? 

“Kill you?” 

Dream laughs, spinning on his heel whilst shrugging. “Kill me.”

“Did you speak to Nick this morning?” George asks, his fake smile flipping into a frown. The mood drops immediately, all laughs, and carelessness forgotten. 

Dream nods. “I told him how I think somebody’s after me again. He looked pretty scared.” 

“He was worried when I told him you wanted to talk to him about it.” George tilts his head and sighs. 

“...It’s nearly noon. I better get going.” Dream deflects the topic, choosing to stand tall once more. He doesn’t want George to suspect anything’s wrong with Y/n, so he puts on a false façade, a smile stretching across his cheeks.

George doesn't say anything and tries to make his smile believable as he opens Dream’s bedroom door for him. “Have fun, I guess.”

The younger man practically skips out of the room, and when he is halfway down the hallway, he turns. “What was it that you needed, George? When you knocked before?” 

George dismisses his question. “Not important. Now, go!” 

Although, to George, it is crucial, and now he has missed his chance. 

—

Dream’s boots slap the cobblestone steps as he makes his way up the tower. He peers around the corner, wary of his movements as he goes. When he reaches the top, he cautiously tiptoes to the balcony. His hand goes to trace the scab forming on his neck and forgets it when he hears her. 

“Clay?” Her voice is soft, holding much more kindness than it did when she had a blade to his throat. “Y/n.” 

He sees her perched on a picnic mat, a basket next to her. Dream tilts his head as he watches her stand and approaches him. Her arms wrap around his neck in a hug and then he’s hugging her back. “Hi.” 

“Hey,” She laughs, pulling back slightly to admire his face. “I missed you today.” Dream gives a muffled noise of agreement into her shoulder. 

Y/n steps back and squints at his neck. “What happened?” Her fingers delicately feel the wound before Dream dodges her. 

“Nothing, nothing. What’s all this?”

She appears to overlook his shitty deflection and motions towards the place where she was sitting. “I made us a picnic.” 

The way she smiles almost makes Dream forget who she is. He forces a smile back, his heart aching at the realisation of reality. She’ll kill him soon. 

“I baked a cake for you, vanilla—you said that was your favourite, right?” Y/n’s anxious actions worry Dream as he sits down next to her. He lifts his head to look out over the land, and the view is breath-taking. 

“Woah,” He breathes. 

Y/n smiles brightly at him, glancing at the green hills and blue skies before she focuses on cutting a slice of cake. 

“You know, I never really admired this view until I met you.” Dream confesses—and it’s true. Y/n pauses, gazing at him as he turns towards her. 

“Really?”

He nods, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of her. She truly is gorgeous. “You’re pretty.” 

Y/n’s eyes widen, and she feels her cheeks flush. “Oh, thank you, Clay. You’re pretty too.” Her hair falls in front of her face as she looks down, and Dream feels a pang in his heart. 

“Have some cake,” Y/n mumbles, handing him a napkin with the dessert placed on it. The sweet looks delectable, and Dream can’t wait to take a bite—unless… 

“You know what? I’m not that hungry, actually. But the cake looks delicious. Thank you.” Y/n furrows her eyebrows, and a look of hurt flashed across her face. “Oh.” 

She hurries to take it back from him, but he refuses to give it to her. “What are you doing?” She asks. 

Dream motions for her to cut another piece, “I’ll only eat if you do.” 

Y/n nods slowly, moving the knife to slice into the cake once more. She flips it onto another napkin and brings it towards her mouth. 

“What? You think it’s poisonous?” Y/n laughs, watching as Dream becomes flustered. “No!” 

His response is quick and cautious, but Y/n doesn’t seem to notice as she takes a bite of her piece of cake. Dream watches as she chews and swallows, earning a confused glance from her. Nothing happens. 

“Well, I didn’t drop dead. Your turn,” She laughs, hurt still evident on her features. Dream feels guilty. He holds the cake surprisingly firmly, bringing it to his lips. His heart races as he puts it between his teeth and bites down. The cake is very sweet, and it’s good. Dream catches Y/n’s eye as he eats, giving her a nod of approval. She smiles widely and visibly relaxes. 

The action calms something in Dream, too. He finishes off his cake and waits for Y/n to do the same. He sees some white frosting fall onto the bodice of her dress, the sugary mixture tumbling down onto her skirt. The girl doesn’t seem to notice as she licks the remaining icing off her fingers. 

“Uh—Y/n, you got some—uh,” Dream motions to her skirt, and watches as she sighs deeply. “Awww, I just washed these.” 

Dream stifles a giggle when Y/n scrunches her nose up and goes to wipe it off. As small as the action is, Dream’s heart skips a beat at her cute expression. He scolds himself for feeling such this way; she tried to kill you last night. 

He eyes the knife next to the basket, sweet frosting covering the blade. The growing desire to grab it and ram it right through her chest burns in his mind, but he holds back. He clenches his jaw, and for the first time, Dream is terrified of himself. 

He shakes the deranged through from his head. What was that? 

Dream watches as Y/n shoves the used napkin into the basket and lifts her eyes to meet his. He smiles softly, causing Y/n to cover her face with her hands. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” He laughs, reaching to poke her in the ribs. Y/n yelps quietly, jolting when he shocks her side. “Stop making me flustered. It’s hardly polite.” 

Dream stops, the tips of his ears reddening. He makes her nervous? “Oh, come on now.” 

The rasp in his voice makes Y/n freeze. She peers at him through her fingers and sees him smirking at her. She lets out a high-pitched sound and returns her hands over her eyes. As much as Dream hates to admit it, there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest.

“Clay, I’m going to take my hands away from my eyes now, and you better not say anything suggestive.” 

Dream chuckles, extending his arms out to grasp her fingers and pull them down. She doesn’t meet his gaze as he holds her hands in her lap. Birds chirp and fly past the balcony, their singing being a perfect addition to the atmosphere the pair had created. 

They don’t say anything as they lean closer. Dream tilts his head slightly, a small smile gracing his face as he sees Y/n do the same. 

“Prince Clay, the Queen would like to see you in the castle.” 

The two of them are still at the sound of another. George stands at the top of the stairs, a scroll in his right hand. Dream rolls his eyes in annoyance, throwing Y/n an apologetic look as he releases her hands. “Thanks, George.”

“I—I’ll see you later?” Y/n whispers as she watches Dream clamber up to his full height. He nods hastily, not giving her a second look, and rushes out behind George. He feels her stare on the back of his skull but continues. 

Y/n sits in silence as the clanging of the wooden door downstairs slams against the stone walls. The chirping of the birds outside dies down, and she frowns. 

As much as she’s supposed to detest Dream, Y/n feels butterflies cluster in her stomach at the mere thought of him. The idea of killing him causes the butterflies to turn to spiders and makes Y/n feel sick. She can’t go through with this—not now, not ever. 

—

“Dre—Clay.” 

Dream freezes; his mother only uses his real name when things are serious. He nods once, prompting his mother to continue. 

“Your father has yet to return to the kingdom from his trip to L’Manberg. However, plans have changed, and it seems he’ll be there longer than expected.” The Queen’s voice is steady but has undertones of utter sadness, which Dream picks up on instantly.

“Why?” He asks. 

“He gave me a straight answer; business.” 

Dream doesn’t say nor does anything. Instead, he remains still. His lack of response earns a reaction from his mother, however. “What is it?” 

“Is it why you don’t wear your ring anymore?” Dream refuses to meet her eye, afraid he’ll upset her more than he already has with his question.

The Queen inhales sharply, glancing at her hand before she composes herself. “Yes.” 

Her voice is just above a whisper, but Dream catches it. His heart clenches, and then he finally meets her watery eyes. 

Dream’s hard exterior breaks as he wraps his arms around his mother. He uses his finger to usher the guards and assistants out of the room and then rests his hand on the back of her hair in an attempt to quiet her soft cries.

He tries his best to be strong for her, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. 

The room is far too silent for Dream’s liking, and he wishes for something to happen to break it. 

And something does. The slam of the double doors makes the pair jump, Dream spinning around to see who had interrupted. 

Y/n stands there, the same picnic basket in her hand. “I’m sorry for intruding!” 

Dream’s mother quickly wipes under her eyes and places her usual people-pleasing smile on. “What can I do for you, darling?”

Y/n walks further into the room, glancing at Dream momentarily before opening the basket in front of the Queen.

“I brought you some berries. I was speaking to Dream earlier, and he told me you loved strawberries. So, I picked some for you, myself.” Her smile is deceiving, Dream can tell, but it’s also warming, and kind and his chest aches at the sight of it. 

The Queen gasps, her hands going to take the basket from Y/n. She peers in and sees it full to the brim with the berries. “Oh my,” 

Y/n’s smile grows, her eyes meeting Dream’s. Although he knows her true intentions, he’s extremely grateful for her kindness. “Thank you, Y/n.” 

“Yes, yes, thank you!” His mother beams. She turns around and starts walking towards another door behind them. 

Once the door closes, Y/n grins at Dream, and he smiles back. His heart twists in his chest, and his eyes burn with tears. Oh, how silly I am, he thinks. 

The next time Dream sees Y/n, and she’s under the wooden bridge in the garden, her hair and undergarments drenched. The sun burns intensely down on his neck as he approaches her. 

Y/n watches the lake rush under her, the odd fish jumping out and diving back into the freezing water. It’s a harsh contrast to the weather outside, swelteringly hot and humid, but Y/n doesn’t pay any mind when she contemplates going for a swim. 

She jogs off the bridge and circles back around to shuffle down the steep, grass bank. Butterflies flutter majestically around her, enhancing the experience of being in an actual kingdom rather than a desert village—it's magical. 

Y/n’s eyes dart around before her hands tend to her back to untie her bodice. She sucks on her bottom lip, and she does so, the process takes far too long. 

Throwing the structured clothing to the grass, she then moves to her top skirt, pulling it up over her head. Her heeled boots and frilly socks are the last things to remove and then Y/n is left standing in a plain cream skirt and button-up. 

She pays no attention to her surroundings as she lifts her remaining skirt and dips her toes into the icy lake, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape at the temperature. 

From here, Y/n can see that the middle of the lake is the deepest point; the bottom is nowhere in sight through the clear water. 

Y/n doesn’t think twice as she leaps into the middle, her entire body submerging under the surface. Her senses are shocked, and her throat closes at the sudden chill. Y/n claws at the water to reach the surface, and then she feels the sun on her cheeks. She takes a large breath and wipes her eyes. 

“Y/n?” The girl turns towards the sound of Dream’s voice. 

“Clay?” She smiles. He runs down the bank and towards the water, although he stops before he can dive in. 

“What are you doing?” He calls, tilting his head at her. “Swimming.” 

Dream rolls his eyes, “Obviously!” 

This elicits a giggle from Y/n as she swims to the edge, her clothes drenched and her heavy makeup running down her face. 

“Hi,” Y/n says as she draws closer. Dream tries fighting a smile at the sight of her in her undergarments. He feels the tips of his ears redden. “I don’t care if you see me like this, Clay.” 

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches his hands for her cheeks. He thinks she looks absolutely gorgeous. But the rising impulse to push her head under the water and never let her up is powerful. Once his fingertips brush her cheek, his breathing becomes laboured and clenches his jaw. She tried to kill you. 

Y/n notices him vacantly staring at her and waves her hand in front of his eyes. “Clay?” 

Dream’s blank expression doesn’t waver. Instead, Y/n swears, she sees his green eyes darken. His hands move from her cheeks to her shoulders, and his grip tightens. Y/n’s face scrunches in uncertainty, and she tries to shift from under his secure hold. Dream’s glare turns wicked as she continues to withdraw. “Clay? Stop, you’re scaring me.” 

His head cocks to the side mockingly, his arms going to push her shoulders down. Y/n losing footing on the rocks under her feet and her neck reaches the water. She claws hastily at his hands, and soon she’s gulping mouthfuls of the icy water. Dream shows no signs of stopping until the sound of her screams brings him from his empty glare. “S-Stop it-t!” 

“Y/n?” 

Dream blinks, and his face softens. He furrows his eyebrows when he sees Y/n struggling to keep her head above the water and grips under her armpits to pull her to stand again. Dream becomes increasingly worried as he sees tears running down her cheeks instead of lake water and makeup, opening his mouth to pour out apologies. 

Y/n stays silent, her eyes shooting from his gaze to the water. She is confused and scared. Questions run through her mind at a million miles per second. Why? Why, why, why? Does he know why she is actually here? Does he know her true intentions? Did he just try and drown her?

“What’s your problem?” Y/n yells, scrambling up the edge of the lake and towards her dry clothes. Dream says nothing. Why did he do that?

“I—I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Maybe it wasn’t her who had a dagger to his throat all that time ago. Perhaps she’s just a normal girl. 

Y/n snarls at him, her top lip curled up in disgust. “I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

The words shock Dream back into reality. “No! No, no.” 

“Yes. Now, leave me alone, Clay.” Y/n spits as she gathers her clothes and stomps back towards the castle. 

Dream stays crouching next to the lake. He stares at his reflection in the water. It twists and turns into a horrible creature baring sharp teeth and dark, dark eyes. He shakes his head instantly; the reflection swirling back into himself. 

What is going on?

— 

The fire almost burns Y/n’s icy hands as she inches closer to the flame. With her dry clothes on, her hair is still wet, and it drips down the back of her bodice and skirts, making her even colder; Y/n regrets not drying her hair before she got dressed. 

As she stares into the fire, Dream’s void expression and evil eyes eat away at her conscience, making her squeeze her eyes shut at the thought. 

“You,” 

The sound of a singular word makes Y/n turn around. George, Dream’s assistant, stands in front of her. His hard eyes are glaring at her as she cocks her head. “George?” 

“You’re here to kill him, aren’t you?” He spits, backing away slowly. Y/n's face shifts to one of shock, her hands shaking in at her sides. 

“Kill him? I would never do such a thing! If anything, he tried to kill me half an hour ago! At the bridge!” 

George scoffs, inching his hand towards the fire poker that leans against the brick fireplace next to him. “You know, you really need to work on your coyness, Y/n.”

She rolls her eyes at him, her teeth chattering as she does so. “You’re ridiculous, George. I love him despite his mistakes.” 

The man lets out a grunt. “You don’t!” 

Y/n steps back at his sudden aggressiveness. She sees the fire poker in his whitening knuckles and then stares at him in bewilderment. “Stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself or me.” 

A sinister laugh escapes George’s throat as he brings the sharp object up to her face, “Oh, I’m definitely going to hurt you. You’re not going anywhere near Clay, again.” 

At his sentence, Y/n stills, and her concerned expression falls slack. She’s done this more times than she can count. Her cold hands intertwine in front of her stomach as a look of confusion crosses George’s face. 

“Listen, I came here to do one thing, and whether or not that plan has changed is none of your business,” Y/n says her stare never wavering. 

She hates to make it so vague, but she knows if he told him the truth, she’d be dead either way—whether that be by George and his fire poker, or by Wilbur Soot and his many friends that could have her head on a pitchfork at any given moment. 

George narrows his eyes at her. “You’re lying.” 

She shrugs; Y/n knows not to show fear; it would only motivate him more. 

The end of the poker is dangerously close to her face, and George sighs before he lowers it. “You love him?” 

Y/n’s eyes soften, and she recoils slightly. She blinks slowly, her eyes coming to rest on her feet. Y/n hates showing emotion, choosing to spill everything in isolation rather than unveiling her vulnerability to potential threats. 

George only nods and retreats, placing the poker back next to the fireplace. He hesitates before he speaks, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. George drops his head and sighs, his heart shattering at the mere thought of Dream, returning her feelings.

“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I know one thing; I’ve never seen Clay like this before, so please don’t hurt him. I can tell he cares about you, dearly.” He refuses to meet Y/n’s eye as he turns to exit. 

She becomes wary of his sudden change in mood but decides against asking him any questions as she sees the tail of his dress coat float around the corner of the doorframe. 

George almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he walked into Dream’s bedroom the next morning. The sunlight had only just begun to flood the kingdom, the clock on the wall showing 6:18 am. 

“Why are you already up? Who are you?” George jokes approaching his best friend. Dream sits hunched over his desk, his quill hurrying over a piece of parchment. George furrows his brows at the strange behaviour but chooses to ignore it as he pulls a chair beside Dream. 

The younger man stops his actions and glances at his assistant. “What are you doing?”

George pales. “I—uh, just wanted to see what you are doing.” Dream throws him a dirty look before he angles his body away. 

George bites the inside of his cheek, his body filling with rage at Dream’s attitude. “What’s your deal?” 

Dream stills; George has never spoken to him like that before. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Clay! Why are you so secretive all of a sudden? You always tell me what’s going on.” 

The Prince doesn’t seem to notice the absolute heartbreak and sadness in his assistant’s voice and clenches his fists. “Just fuck off, George! You’re my assistant, not my friend. I only call you when I need you. Got it?”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. George feels his entire body tingle as it falls numb, his stomach turning sickly. He watches as Dream huffs and turns back to his piece of paper, like a child; his arm covering the page and his other scribbling down words or exactly that—scribbles. 

It takes everything in George to stand up and leave. His legs are jelly as he wobbles out; his tears finally spilling down his cheeks. He shuts Dream’s bedroom door quietly, not anger him further, and runs down the hall towards his own room. 

The halls are silent, not a soul in sight but the broken one that floats behind George while he tries to swallow choked sobs. 

He hops down a few stairs, and then he’s pushing his door open, slamming it behind him in total defeat. He slides down the back of it, his hands coming to cover his flushed face. George scratches at his chest as he struggles to quieten the sound of his laboured breathing and hiccups. His heartbeat stutters within his ribcage—but that’s the least of his worries. 

This is the suffering of complete and utter heartbreak, and now George knows how it feels after three years of dreading it. He screws his eyes shut, in hopes of stopping the tears and forces himself to calm down. 

He loves Clay as more than a friend—this he knows is true. But, George scolds himself for being so foolish for thinking the Prince would reciprocate his one-sided love. 

And as the air fills his lungs, George stops. He holds his breath for as long as he can—the burning of his body screaming for him to breathe is the only thing he feels. He’s lightheaded as he gazes out of the window opposite him. The oak trees rustle in the dawn breeze, and it's tranquil. He feels his heart clench in his chest and then an unbearable searing pain that he can only compare to tossing your body into a fire and feeling it melt your skin.

The world is peaceful as he continues to let his body ignite and soon dwindle into nothing. 

And as the sun rises higher, his body slumps lower onto the ground, his eyes glassy and still staring out at the garden. 

—

Meet me in the garden at dusk. 

Her fingers trace the outline of the scraggly letters. Dream’s letter is vague, with no real meaning and nothing to indicate why he wants to meet. Usually, George delivered Dream’s letters to Y/n, but today it was rushed to her by another servant from the castle. Weird. 

Y/n squints closer at the letter; she can see how hard Dream drove the quill into the paper by the letters’ slightly ripped edges. Leaning closer, the smell of lavender seeps through the parchment. There are no lavender plants in the garden. 

Instead of going unprepared, Y/n reaches into the desk drawer and retrieves her dagger. She brings it towards her face and tilts it in the light, the metal reflecting into her eyes. Lifting her skirts on one side, Y/n shoves the knife into the case clasped around her thigh. It's subtle and easy to get to if needed. 

Y/n sighs, reading over the letter one last time before she walks towards the fire in the corner. She tosses it into the flames, watching as reds and oranges engulf the paper. 

She knows what comes next. If Dream wants her to meet him, then she’ll do it, but she also has to go through with her duties whether she likes it or not. 

Y/n draws nearer to the garden, her eyes darting around the trees in hopes—or in fear—of seeing Dream. The sun burns in the distance, begging to say goodbye for the day as it watches the girl tiptoe over tree roots. 

Once she enters the area enclosed by stone walls and arches, tears gather in Y/n’s eyes when she sees him, her heartstrings pulling violently in her chest. Dream stands on the other side of the garden, the thorns from the rose bush piercing his dress pants. Y/n remains frozen under one of the stone arches at the garden’s entrance, her dagger prominent in its case around her thigh. 

His cold stare meets her cautious eyes and his face does nothing to soothe her nerves like it usually does. Instead, his stern expression stirs panic around in her stomach and makes her feel ill. Y/n abandons her original plan to stay withdrawn from the situation because once she sees him, she breaks. 

“I can’t kill you, Clay!” 

Dream freezes at her sudden shout. The pain in her voice makes him clench his jaw, and soon he’s approaching her. “What?”

Y/n inhales sharply, her breath hitching in her throat before she continues. “You know that I came here to kill you, you figured it out! And now I can’t go through with it.” 

“Why?” Dream’s glare challenges her.

“Don’t make me answer that,” 

“Y/n,” 

“Clay.”

“I asked you a question. Answer it.” 

Y/n squeezes her eyes shut, her fists tense by her sides. Dream’s blunt tone is the last thing she needs to suppress her feelings further. “Because I hate you and I can’t possibly assassinate you when I have feelings like that—it’s immoral.” 

He scoffs at her horrible excuse. “If you truly hate me, I would’ve been dead the first second you saw me. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.” 

Y/n could scream—in frustration, in anger, in heartbreak. She wants to stand on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower and scream about how much she loves him; scream about how much she hates him; scream about how she would go to the ends of the earth for a man she is supposed to murder. 

“Leave me, Clay. I need to be alone.” 

With the shake of his head, Dream steps closer. “You love me; that’s why. It took me a while to realise, but I know now. And the worst part is, I love you too.” 

The confession has Y/n panicking. Her eyes widen, and her hands scramble to snatch the knife from her thigh—but Dream’s quicker. He leaps towards her, his body colliding with hers as they stumble onto the grass. Y/n’s dagger presses against his neck, but there’s one against hers too. 

An unfamiliar panic runs through Y/n as she feels a blade across her throat, but she keeps a hard exterior. The deadly look in Dream’s eye catches Y/n off guard as she pushes her knife firmly. A split appears on his skin—his blood dripping onto her neck, making him readjust his grip on his own dagger. 

His mother’s face flashes through Dream’s mind while he swallowed thickly. He apologises in his thoughts as he glares at Y/n. 

The heat of his hot blood on her skin is unlike anything Y/n’s felt before; maybe it’s the bloodlust or something else, but Dream notices. 

Y/n opens her lips to speak but is stopped when he leans down to press his mouth against hers. The kiss is contrastingly soft compared to the incredibly vulnerable and intense position they’re in. Dream’s skin burns where the cut is and feels it grow as he leans closer to her face. Y/n gasps when she feels metal pierce her skin, and soon they’re whispering into each other’s lips. 

The end is near. And as Y/n stares into Dream’s enchanting, sinister eyes, she reaches. 

She reaches for the release she’s been begging for since she met him. She’s desperate to feel him one last time—in love and not hate. There's one final strand of hope that maybe, just maybe, he can see her dying love for him seep through her ever-growing bloodlust and absolute inhumanity. 

But he doesn’t. And the same devilish grin he wore when she had a blade to his throat for the first time splits his red cheeks. The twinkle in her eye tells him she feels it too, and then her teeth bare a vile smirk.

“I’ll love you forever, Clay.” 

“Forever is the sweetest con, my love.” 

There are dull sweeps of blades across skin, and then there’s silence. 

Excruciating, deafening nothingness.

And as the sun dips beyond the horizon, Y/n and Clay’s hands intertwine, not once sparing a glance back at their bodies that lay cold on the cobblestone pathway. 

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