#i promise you gold is not like this but its just so funny seeing gold act so mean just for this SHSHSJSJSHAHAAIOA

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

memoryshipping 💚💜

[grandprixprincess]

hermana part 3 || ln4

lando norris x fem!reader smau + written

part 1 // part 2

warnings: some language

a/n: thanks for all the love for this series :) it's so fun to write! as always, requests are open for smau and text fics <3 also, cherry part 2 will be up next week! read part 1 here :) oh and happy race week!!! i'll be at cota this weekend, so excited!

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris seen leaving his Monaco apartment this evening!

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user1 on his way to pick up y/n perhaps? 🤞

user2 the jolly is such a VIBEEEE

user3 oh our man is dressed nice tonight!!! it's giving date night!!!

user4 i think you're right omg??? user5 y/n just posted a story all dressed up 👀

user4 lando is in his lover boy era 😭💗

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🧡🧡🧡

story replies:

yourbestfriend 😍

carlossainz55 are the orange hearts really necessary? 🙄

yourusername yes 🙄

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before checking the time again. 5:48 pm. Lando would be here soon to pick you up.

Just as you prepared to make your way downstairs, you heard the front door to Carlos' apartment open. You furrowed your brow, wondering why he or Rebecca would be back at this time. They had left earlier in the day and said they would be out until after dinner.

"Y/N?" Carlos' voice rang out.

You grabbed a pair of dainty gold earrings as you walked out of guest bedroom, inserting them in your ear as you walked to where you heard Carlos' voice come from. "Yeah?"

Carlos was alone, carrying a few bags in, his back turned to you. "Good, you're still here. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you real quick before you-" He suddenly turned around mid sentence, "What are you wearing?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don't start, Carlitos. I'm about to leave."

Carlos scoffed. "Uh, no you're not."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Carlos, stop." Now was not the time for Carlos to go into big brother protection mode. "There's nothing wrong or scandalous about what I'm wearing."

Your phone buzzed. You looked down, seeing Lando's name across your screen, and couldn't help the smile that made its way to your face.

I'm 5 minutes away. See you soon, beautiful.

You were so caught up in reading Lando's text, a blush painting your cheeks a soft pink, that you didn't notice Carlos smirking slightly at you. He liked seeing you happy and smitten like this; it warmed his heart. "You're blushing."

Carlos' words broke you from your daze. "Huh?"

Carlos chuckled lightly. "I said you're blushing." He took a step towards you, reaching his arm out to give you a quick hug. "You look beautiful, hermana. Have fun, yeah?"

You smiled brightly, happy to see Carlos following through with being supportive of you and Lando. "Thanks, we will. I'm going to head down. I'll see you later."

Carlos suddenly gripped your arm, holding you steady. "You are...coming back home tonight, right?"

You blushed, hating every second of this conversation, and gave him a sheepish grin. "Yes, mano. I promise."

"Good. No funny business tonight." You rolled your eyes at his words. "Hey, I mean it, manita. If he's serious, he'll wait."

You obviously didn't tell Carlos the intimate details of you and Lando on the yacht from the previous day. You felt a blush creep on your face again just thinking about it. Giving Carlos' arm a reassuring squeeze, you said, "Not that it's any of your business, but we want to wait. I want Lando to properly wine and dine me first."

"Please don't ever say the words 'Lando' and 'wine and dine me' together in a sentence ever again."

You laughed. "Okay, I need to go. He's almost here." You reached up, giving Carlos another reassuring hug. "Love you!"

"Love you. Keep your phone on. If I text you, you better answer."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Fine." You grabbed your purse, making your way to the door. "Bye!"

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, user3, georgerussell63, and others

f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted out in Monaco tonight! The pair were reportedly seen cruising around town before heading to a restaurant.

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user1 lando took her for a drive to watch the sunset 😭😍

user3 literally crying 😭😭😭

user2 i love my emotional support rich couple

user4 george in the likes 💀 he wants to know the tea just like us

user5 carlos at home seeing this like 🤨

user1 nah I know deep down he's a lany/n shipper

user6 they looks so cute together 😭🧡

"Red or white?"

You and Lando were looking over the wine list. The restaurant Lando brought you to was cozy and romantic; you both wore goofy grins as you sat across from each other.

Suddenly you heard your phone buzzing from inside your bag. You and Lando immediately made eye contact, a smirk growing on his face. You had told him in the car what Carlos had said about answering him if he texted you.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, his gaze causing you to throw him a sheepish smile. "Stop looking at me like that!"

He had a full on grin now. "What, am I not allowed to look at my beautiful date?"

He had you blushing now. "Yes, you can look, but don't make fun of me because I have a psycho brother."

Lando gave you another teasing smirk, looking down at the wine list again before saying, "You better answer him. I don't want to have to worry about him bursting in here and tackling me or something."

You giggled, reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone. You were confused and surprised when you saw who had texted you.

Lando grabbed your hand as you made your way upstairs to meet up with Charles and Alexandra. His hand in yours felt so natural, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. You smiled down at your joined hands before pulling out your phone to take a quick photo.

After taking the picture, you look up to see Lando staring at you, almost awestruck. You quirked your brow and smiled slightly, asking, "What?"

Lando just shook his head, rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand affectionately. "Nothing, just wondering how I got so lucky to have such a beautiful date tonight."

You blushed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. "I feel pretty lucky too. I'm here with my dream man." You squeeze his hand.

The two of you have made it to the rooftop now, and do a once over of the space, looking for your friends. Lando leads you two towards the bar in the meantime.

"Dream man, huh?" Lando let go of your hand suddenly, his hand finding its way to your hip, pulling you in close, whispering in your ear, "You're literally the object of all my fantasies and desires." Lando keeps his hand on your hip, using his thumb to rub slow, small circles into your side.

You feel hot suddenly, and you know it's probably another blush on your face. Words lose you; you just focus on Lando's hand on you as stare up at him, eyes dilated.

"It's so fucking cute when you blush like that," Lando whispers in your ear again, "You're my dream girl."

Just as you were about to respond, you hear a voice behind you say, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

You turn around, Lando's hand still on your hip, to see Charles and Alexandra, both with coy smiles on their faces. You and Lando wear sheepish smiles as you wave to your friends.

Charles spoke up again. "Okay, first round is on me. Then you two can explain what's going on."

Lando laughed, letting go of your hip to join Charles to bring the drinks back. "Vodka cran?" he asked you, hand lingering with yours as he walked away.

He still remembers your drink of choice. You smiled, nodding. "Yes, please."

Once the boys were gone, Alex looked at you, still with that coy smile on her face. "Alright, spill. When did this happen?"

"After Singapore." You had another goofy smile on your face, you were sure of it. "We hadn't seen each other in a while, but after the race he texted me asking to see me again. Then he offered to pick me up from the airport, and yesterday we spent the day together..."

"Oh trust me, I saw the photos." Alex said teasingly.

You blushed again. "He told me yesterday that he tried to ask me out years ago, but Carlos stopped him."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I know he means well, but that doesn't surprise me at all."

You nod. "The past is the past. I've already spoken to Carlos about it and we've cleared the air."

"That's good." Alex reached over, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. "You two looked so smitten with each other during dinner. I'm happy for you."

You saw Lando and Charles walking back towards you two, drinks in hand. You locked eyes with Lando, who was mid-conversation with Charles, and he flashed you a handsome grin.

Dream man.

yourusername posted a close friends story

story replies:

yourbestfriend screaming crying throwing up

iamrebeccad carlos saw this and threw his phone across the floor

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, user3, and others

f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N spotted out at a bar in Monaco tonight!

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user1 the way lando is looking at her 😭 when will it be my turn

user2 lany/n army we are getting FED

user3 and they were seen hanging with charles and alex!! 🥰

user4 why them and not carlos and rebecca?? user3 probably because carlos would kill lando on sight if he saw lando touching y/n like that irl user3 also I think charles and alex just happened to be there too coincidentally

user5 idk who i'm more jealous of: lando or y/n 😭

It was nearly midnight when Lando pulled up outside Carlos' apartment building. You didn't want the night to end. Lando's hand was latched with yours in your lap.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just trying to savor the moment. "If you asked me to sit out here with you all night, I would," you admitted.

Lando chuckled. "As tempting as that is, these seats aren't exactly the most comfortable." He began rubbing soft circles on your hand with his thumb. "I had a great time tonight."

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So did I." You laid your free hand on his forearm, just wanting to savor as much of his touch as possible. "Will I get to see you again before I leave?"

Lando had a teasing glint in his eye as he said, "That eager to see me again, huh?" Little shit. He shifted in his seat, turning towards you, inching closer.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, that's my line." You inched closer to him, waiting for what was to come. "Answer the question."

Your faces were centimeters apart. "I've been spoiled the past few days. I want to see you every day."

"Come see me tomorrow."

Lando sighed. "Are you sure? I don't want to take you away from spending time with Carlos."

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. "He's going golfing tomorrow," you said, "So I'll be alone until he gets back." You hesitated for a moment, before adding, "I'm making dinner tomorrow. You should come."

Lando quirked his brow. "Come to dinner...with you and Carlos?"

You narrowed your eyes, flashing him a grin. "It's not like the three of us haven't had dinner together before."

"Yeah, but it's different now."

"You do know you'll have to face him eventually, right?"

If it was possible, Lando leaned even closer. "Yeah, I know." He reached his free hand up, caressing your face. "I'll be there."

Lando smiled at the way your face lit up with joy. "You will?" When he nodded, you finally leaned in and closed the gap between you two, connecting his lips with yours.

It felt blissful. You were sure you could kiss Lando for the rest of your life and never get enough. As his lips moved against yours, you released your hand from his, snaking both hands around his neck.

You smirked against his lips when your hands found themselves in his curls again.

"Careful, baby," Lando cooed against your lips. "I'm already fighting the urge to ask you to come home with me."

You giggled, pulling his face back towards yours, desperate for his lips on yours again.

Suddenly, you felt your phone buzz in your purse. The two of you broke apart, smirks on your faces. You both knew who it was.

Stop sucking faces and come inside already. It's late.

"He's watching us," you said, showing the text you received from Carlos. "I better go." You sighed, a wave of sadness taking over you at the realization that the night really was ending.

"Can I walk you up?"

Your eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, of course." Lando quicky got out of the car, walking over to your side and holding out his hand. "Are you sure?"

He flashed a genuine smile. "I'm going to have to face him eventually, right?" You look at his offered hand again before reaching out and grabbing it, lacing your fingers together. As you made your way inside and towards the elevator, he added, "Besides, it's not a real first date unless you do the classic goodnight kiss at the front door."

"You're a real charmer, huh?"

As you finally made your way to Carlos' front door, you stopped to dig for the key in your purse. You struggled to find it for a bit; suddenly, the door opened, revealing Carlos.

"Hey, mate." Lando said nervously, letting out an awkward laugh.

Carlos stared blankly at Lando for a moment, before saying, "Hey, cabrón." He stepped out into the hallway to join you both, eyes still on Lando. "Nice of you to walk her up."

"Of course, yeah, of course," Lando rambled, Carlos continuing to stare him down.

You decided to stop this before it escalated further. "You're making him nervous, Carlos. Stop it."

Carlos broke out into a grin, playfully slapping Lando's shoulder. "I was just messing with you, mate." He finally looked over at you before saying to Lando, "You should join us for dinner tomorrow."

You couldn't hide the surprise on your face if you tried. Looking over at Lando, he wore a similar expression on his face before saying, "Yeah, I would like that."

"You should join me for golf tomorrow too if you're not busy."

Now you were sure your eyes were going to pop out of their socket from shock. What was Carlos up to?

When both you and Lando were silent at the second invitation, Carlos added, "Listen, I don't want things to be weird between us because you guys are," he gestured his hand in the space between you two, "dating, or whatever."

You and Lando both laughed, feeling more at ease. You turned to Lando, nudging him with your elbow. "You should go. I'll sleep in and enjoy a day to myself."

With both you and Carlos' eyes on him, he nodded quickly. "Yeah, a round of golf sounds nice. I'm in."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, mate." Carlos said, offering his hand out to Lando and giving him a bro hug. As he went inside and closed the door, he added, "Doors unlocked, manita."

As Carlos disappeared, Lando turned to you. "Are you sure?" Lando asked, searching your eyes for any doubt. When you nodded and flashed him an earnest smile, he nodded back. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Lando said, reaching for your hand, caressing it softly. You nodded, leaning up to press one last kiss to his lips for the night; a goodnight kiss to end the most perfect night.

landonorris posted a story

caption: hanging with bae ❤️ @/carlossainz55

story replies:

yourusername LMAO

landonorris sorry you had to find out this way yourusername with my brother too 😔 landonorris carlando can't be broken

user1 y/n brought carlando back together and for that i'll forever be grateful

lando.jpg posted

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, daniel3.jpg, and others

lando.jpg nice lil break

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user1 CARLANDOOOO

lnfour 📣 new jpg photo dump alert

user2 y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg

user3 the soft launch is soft launching 😙🤌

user4 putting the carlando pic before y/n??? lando said that's still my man

yourusername mama a girl behind you

user1 LMAO 💀 user5 one thing about y/n? she's always going to roast carlos

carlossainz55 posted

liked by yourusername, iamrebeccad, yoursister, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others

carlossainz55 Had a great few weeks off. Ready for Austin 🤠🇺🇸

tagged: iamrebeccad, yourusername

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user1 LFG TRIPLE HEADER TIME

user2 rebecca and y/n are the cutest

yourusername love you but love @/iamrebeccad more 💗

iamrebeccad 💗👯‍♀️ carlossainz55 wow 😐 carlossainz55 whatever we all know who you really love more 🧡 user1 OMG??? user4 the orange heart 😭 oh he is a lany/n shipper for sure

user3 manifesting a y/n appearance in the paddock in austin 🙏

scuderiaferrari Ready to be back on track 💪

user5 chili podium in austin 🕯🙏

yourusername posted

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername Monaco memories ✨

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user1 not lando liking this under 1 minute of posting

user2 oh he's so down bad, he has those notifs on

landonorris First ♥︎ by author

user5 OH user2 oh ABSOLUTELY down bad user6 og lany/n shippers used to pray for times like these 😭

user3 pls come to austin queen 🙏😔

alexandrasaintmleux 💗☀️

yourusername btw carlos made me post that photo to make up for the last post 🙄

carlossainz55 👍 yourusername 🖕 user1 someone tell ferrari the girls are fighting again 🙄

user4 her not tagging anyone in this post so her and lando can keep soft launching 😂

user5 they're having fun with it and i love it

user6 lando once again behind the camera like 😍🤳

yourbestfriend the first pic 😍😍😍

landonorris i know right 😍 user4 OH user2 down bad on main 😨

It had been a week since you arrived in Monaco. Things with you and Lando were going better than ever, but a fear was beginning to creep in as it was nearing the time for you to head back home. Lando was about to head out on a triple header, and the championship battle between him and Max was at its peak. You contemplated asking Carlos to take you with him to Austin, but would Lando want you there?

"Lan?" You sat on the bed in the hotel room, waiting for Lando to finish getting ready to head out for media day at the circuit. Something had been weighing on your mind as you got ready.

"Yeah?" He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "You ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just one thing..." you started, "I know we've been spotted and posted who knows how many times already, but this will be the first time we go out together, you know publicly, in front of the media." You fiddled with your hands as you contemplated your next sentence. "I just want to make sure you're ready for that."

"Are you ready for that?"

Without a second thought, you said, "Yeah, I don't want to hide. Soft launching is fun, but I think we lost the element of surprise already."

Lando chuckled before offering his hand for you to take. "I've been ready this whole time. Let's go do our hard launch then, baby."

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, user3, and others

f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted entering the paddock together for media day at COTA!

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user1 the people's prince and princess

user2 hard launching at a gp is iconic

user4 taking selfies together with fans 😭 i love them sm

user3 will y/n be in the ferrari or mclaren garage this weekend???

user2 i thought for sure ferrari but now i'm thinking mclaren 😬 user4 no she will 1000% be in ferrari there's no way

yourusername posted stories

story 1 caption: save a horse ride a cowboy amirite 😍🤠

story 2 caption: don't worry i'm still a ferrari girl first <3 (ferrari pls give carlos a good strategy this weekend or i swear)

story replies to story 1:

user1 we went from subtle soft launch to horny on main so quick I have whiplash

carlossainz55 delete this

landonorris was busy doing an interview but is this why people keep yelling cowboy at me

yourusername oops sorry baby yourusername come eat i got your chicken wrap landonorris otw 🏃🏻‍♂️

story replies to story 2:

carlossainz55 for once I agree with one of your posts

user2 i can't wait to see you flame williams next year

oscarpiastri posting this while sitting across from me in the mclaren hospitality is wild

yourusername 😂

a/n: part 4 will be out soon :) it will most likely be the last part!

taglist: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean @a-beaverhausen @mxdi0 @scorpiodiosa @dripostsstuff @maddja @thegirlamongthestars @flrboyd @saythename-sm @landossainz @arrowenchantress @plotpal @jule239 @avni-sarai @hangingwiththestars @nxk1309 @amberpanda99

[ckret2]

Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I—it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

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

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

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

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

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

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea.  We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better. 

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

[mayghosts]

Little Gold Top: (6) Kate Martin x Reader

(Previous) (TOC) (Next)

Summary: morning after

Warnings: tears, this is so unhealthy y'all I'm sorry, honestly rly struggled with this chapter and you can tell

AN: me vs ending this, how many more chapters do we want? I promise its going to get cute and fluffy after this

The rising sun cast pinks and oranges over the living room. Your tea had gone cold hours ago as you shivered on the couch. You would've gotten up and gone to bed, in fact in another universe you probably would’ve taken the sleeping body on the opposite end with you. At least Kate was warm with that blanket.

You know you should just leave her on the couch, go to the 8AM you had every Tuesday morning, but you refused to let her sleep and dash. Especially not after last night. Quietly you slipped into the kitchen, getting yourself a fresh cup of tea, dumping the cold mug from last night down the drain. Walking back into the living room you were met with a pair of blue eyes.

Her face was still a bit puffy and red and her hair was a mess. Kate was still the prettiest girl you had ever seen. You paused, the mug burning your hand as she quickly looked away. You hadn’t really figured out what would happen when she woke up. I mean you tried to, it was all you could think about last night, but your brain seemed unable to give you a solution. You gently sat on your end of the couch, as if any sudden motions might send her running off.

The silence was deafening. You glanced up at the blonde as she quickly diverted her gaze again. Picking at her nails she spoke “I meant it.” Slowly you peeked over at her. “Every word I said last night I meant it-”

Silence fell again as you tried to find the word to express whatever the strange, consuming, overwhelming emotion you harbored towards the blonde. Feeling the tears well in your eyes you blinked rapidly, looking towards the window, the TV, the paintings on the far wall from team bonding. “You can’t just say that, that's not fair” Kate looked at you confused, you could see the hurt in her eyes. She almost looked like a sad lost puppy. You went back to listing items in the room, window, TV, paintings, table, lamp over and over. Wall, door knob, Gabbie. Oh fuck, its Gabbie.

“Uhh hey, good morning guys… everything okay out here…?” You had no idea how long Gabbie had been standing there. The look of absolutely panic, guilt and embarrassment that washed over Kates face would be funny in any other situation. You turned around to face your roommate again, trying to pull yourself together,“Yep! All good out here! Have fun at Class!” Standing up you ushered her out the door into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Leaning back against the door you felt the overwhelming sense of dread return.

You shuffeled back into the living room, coming face to face with a standing, six foot, Kate Marin. “So what, you're just gonna leave now? Like you always do?” You wanted to take it back as soon as you said it, partially because your voice cracked, and partially because you felt bad.

“I'm not leaving…” she stepped closer to you “I am serious I meant every word. I am not giving up on this.” This statement only seemed to worsen your predicament as you found yourself crying harder. God this was embarrassing. Attempting to pull yourself together, you wipe your face with your hoodie sleeves. Looking her dead in the eyes you say what you've been thinking this whole time.

“I don't believe you.”

You knew it hurt her to hear, but Kate was tough, and she had hurt you so much more, if anything, it canceled out. “I don’t believe that you are going to stay because you never have. We barely interact outside of hookups and I don’t trust you to..” Your words faded out at the end, the tears taking over your ability to talk. “Say it.” she gently tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

Clearing your throat you tried again. “You would kiss me and tell me you loved me and that I'm beautiful and fuck me in your car- and then you would leave. And we wouldn't talk about it, and you would fuck some other girl the next night and it happened over and over. Kate I'm so tired I can’t keep doing this!” you looked up into her glassy blue eyes “I mean I thought you said we were done! I'm trying so hard to be done!” The pool of yucky emotions in your stomach only grew as you watched her try not to cry. You could see how hard she way trying to appear strong, to keep it together. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to grab her and hold her and tell her you loved her and never let go. Because she said she loves you! However there was still that part of your brain just knew said she didn’t really mean it. You felt like a video game character, trying to make a game changing decision about which person to save from the zombie apocalypse. Except, you don’t get any do-overs and this wasn’t a game. In this reality, you would save Kate over yourself, every time. And you knew it.

Kate looked beyond tired, red eyes now brimming with tears again as she searched for the words to try and fix this.

Gently you traced your hand over her shoulder. Savoring the way she slightly leaned into your touch and the way her skin felt. You pulled her into a hug, “We will figure this out I promise.” She pulled you closer, holding you like you were going to disintegrate, “I can’t loose you, please don’t leave.” You could feel her tears on your neck as her fingers curled into your sweatshirt. Her body trembled in your arms. “I’m so scared I'm sorry.” You were both silent for a minute, your could feel your brain screaming at you to get her out, push her away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let her go. “It was always you, I've only ever wanted you.” Carefully you peeled away, holding her arms. “Then prove it, make me believe you.”

because I really really want to

[obriengf]

24 Crayons || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: A boy met a girl in the midst of innocence, and formed a friendship that would last the ages. Words: 1.1k Warnings: omg just cuteness to the max Notes: written in third person, remaining chapters set in first person!

part one of TWENTY FOUR - a stiles stilinski series (masterlist)

Innocence was the simplicity of a sunny day; the way the light warmed skin and caught reflections in a twinkling gleam. It was the gentle hum of a small Californian town, filled with buzzing townsfolk in suburban settings and singing birds that found sanctuary in the surrounding wilderness. It was the floral scent of garden-lined sidewalks that was encapsulated within a plethora of beautiful flowers. But most of all, on this very particular day, innocence was the budding friendship between two children on their first day of kindergarten. Brown, doe-like eyes, peered upward as lips jutted out in a pout. They belonged to a young boy as nerves overtook his small body, worried about being alone and away from his parents. His hands were small as they gripped onto the pant legs of his father before cementing his little feet to the pavement below. He was refusing to move; head shaking, frown quivering, cheek rubbing against khaki-coloured material. "Stiles, honey..." A tender voice cooed, a woman with dark brown hair and the sweetest of smiles now moving to crouch to his level. She was among the shining light of the sun, ethereal glows highlighting her frame before a hand with a loving touch cupped the young boy's face. "You'll have the best time, I promise. Once you make some friends, you will love it here." "B-but you and dad are my friends!"

The woman's gaze saddened as they flickered up toward her husband, a mutual conversation of silent expressions and empathy. With a tender pat to her shoulder, the woman stood, instead replaced by a man with kind eyes and a gold badge that glimmered in the light. Stiles' focus moved to the word 'Deputy' as his small finger dragged over the engraving on the golden metal, his sobs quietening only in the slightest.

"Do you want to see the special big boy present we got for your first day, bud?" The man spoke with a gentle tone before being met with a sniffle and hesitant head nod from his son. He was careful as he dug through the spiderman backpack in front of him, his facial features contorting with funny expressions to make Stiles laugh. The sound of happiness made the man sigh with contentment as he pulled out a yellow box - colours, one of every rainbow shade, were lined up perfectly and ready for a creative imagination.

"Crayons!" Any prior sense of despair had dissipated as the boy's eyes grew, childlike wonder and jovial sounds now becoming his persona in the way his parents had always known him. The box was grasped with delicate fingers before small arms were thrown behind the father's neck, holding him in a loving embrace.

The man smiled. All surroundings slowly faded as this family of three stood within their bubble of perfection - of love, and purity. Everything was right in the world, and nothing could stand in their way.

Stiles stood off to the side; his senses were on alert, nervousness working through his small frame as he overlooked the large classroom and the many bodies that took up its space. He was too shy to speak to anyone, and he felt as if the room began to close in on him the longer he isolated himself. He dreamed of being back in the arms of his father, to be looking up at his mother's graceful smile that made all the scary moments go away. Everybody seemed to have someone and Stiles had never felt so alone.

It wasn't until he looked across to the far side of the room - past the children playing with their toys, and his new teacher talking to other adults that he didn't know - that he spotted another that seemed as lonely as he did. She had her back turned to him, but he could tell that she was sad by the way her pencil moved slowly over the page in front of her.

Little feet padded with caution as Stiles made his way toward her, the box his father gave him clutched tightly to his chest as a reminder that he was a big boy now and that alone was enough to give him some courage.

He cleared his throat, voice quiet as he peered over her shoulder, "Can I sit with you?"

Her head shot up with surprise to hear another voice, body turning quickly to see a young boy with the biggest brown eyes she'd ever seen. She nodded eagerly, pushing the chair beside her out for him to drop beside her. Stiles felt relief, his smile wide with anticipation as he stuck his hand out - something his father taught him when saying hello to new people. The girl looked at him funny before she smiled too, her hand sliding against his easily.

"Hi, my name is Mieczyslaw!" He spoke quickly, the sound of his name amusing as it came from his young squeaky voice. It didn't make it any easier to understand with the tooth missing from his bottom row, either.

Her head tilted, lashes fluttering as she thought of what he said. The girl hummed, "Mich.. ca.. slor?"

Stiles laughed loudly, his grin growing wider, if even possible. The boy nodded, "Kinda, but it's okay, it's hard to say sometimes."

The girl giggled along with him, her body turning further in her seat until she was facing him front on. "That's a funny name!"

"It's my grampa's name.." He started, shuffling closer to the girl, "But you can call me Stiles! Erry'one calls me that."

"Okay, Stiles. That's a funny name too!" She followed his earlier sentiment as her small hand was thrown toward him, ready for another shake, "I'm Y/n."

He took it gladly, "I like that name, it's pretty. Y/n."

A red hue dusted her cheeks, a mix of excitement and happiness as she found someone to talk to. And he was someone that made her laugh, which she liked most of all.

Stiles wasn't afraid as he put his box of crayons on the table between them, a sense of pride filling him as he saw her eyes widen in amazement. He patted the top, "My dad and mom gave me these."

"Wow! And you got the big box too, with all the good colors!"

Stiles' smile never faltered, and he knew that he liked you straight away. You were going to be a good friend. "Yeah! I haven't opened 'em yet. Did you wanna color with me?!"

That was the beginning of an unbreakable friendship, the first chapter in the lives of you and Stiles Stilinski.

[thehistoriangirl]

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Chapter 1]

I thought I would start posting in the first of February but oh well better now than never lol

I'm gonna post the other fic's masterlist tomorrow I think :3

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----2.9K----SFW*

// M A S T E R L I S T

Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor was never supposed to see you again, just like you had promised that evening when you both ended up heartbroken and bitter toward destiny and all its twisted ways. So twisted as to put you back into his life not only as a temporal working partner to cover Jayce’s absences, but also as the maid of honor in the wedding where he’ll be the best man. Hypothetically, it doesn’t have to be that difficult to find a way around the river of memories flowing between you both. Though, of course, hypotheses are flawed. Just like that part of him that still craves another ending to this story. 

Tags: Second Chance | Angst | Exes to Lovers | Denial of Feelings | Viktor's horny down memory lane* | Reader is pissed | My man is going thru the stages of grief | MelJay bc Jayce deserves to be happy | Eventual Smut | Eventual Happy Ending |

Taglist c: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @blissfulip

That goodbye became a broken promise, cracked over the sound of your voice ever since he heard it at the Council assembly.

Sure, you had spat out the words fueled by betrayal and hatred, but Viktor took them like an oath to put in peace his stormy mind.

First coated in a lie so fragile Viktor was surprised it hadn’t fragmented before, and now this—he was sure he shouldn’t take another glass of wine from the walking waiters zigzagging across the opulent hall—but he had avoided you all night, and he knew Jayce wouldn’t let him go before arranging the “formal meeting” between both of you.

If only he knew...

We congratulate Miss Favred for winning the design contest for the new hall construction inside the Museum of Sciences and Technologies. Graduated from Piltover’s Academy with honors, you're the proof that progress and art are held hand in hand in this city.

Almost the same speech Heimerdinger delivered during your graduation ceremony, only that this time you were all alone on the stage, Viktor's hand grabbing his cane to not feel the growing sensation of emptiness.

Part of him thought it was mere shock. After all, you haven't seen each other in almost ten years; and a petty part of him was surprised he even remembered you, how the image of you was locked in the depths of his subconsciousness that only needed the ring of your greeting to resurface.

But now? Hours after the reencounter? He was so, so weak…

With a sigh, Viktor finally admitted it: stealing glimpses of your purple dress flowing against the gentle breeze was a weakness, though if the excuse lay in masochist interest or avid curiosity, Viktor wasn’t ready to clear his mind. Why would he, anyway? It was a couple of wine glasses too late.

Funny how some things defied the City of Progress where everyone was eagerly grasping the tomorrow.

Viktor just felt stuck in the past, down a path he wasn’t so sure how to slip through.

Your hair was the same, richly stylized and decorated with a geometrical headpiece that looked like a crown from Viktor’s angle. Your time in Shurima had replaced the Piltovan style built by several layers of clothes like vests and corsets for simple, airy fabrics that played with transparencies. The deep shade of violet pooled in continuous drapes ironed in the long skirt falling freely around your hips and down your legs, a gold-threaded corset hugged your waist and framed your bosom, the fabric slowly fading into a lavender tone held like loose sleeves with golden bracelets.

You were covering your mouth while your eyes closed in amused crinkles for whatever the young merchant Mauriel Garfen was telling you as his expert hand twirled you around the ballroom. It didn’t matter much, as Viktor could paint it just fine: with the vivid dark pink adorning your lips, though he knew your favorite color was more of a burnt brown, or maybe even red—

"That's enough for today," Viktor mumbled, eyes looking intently at the crimson liquid as he swirled the stem around his fingers before settling it down against the nearby windowsill.

Suddenly, he heard your happy squeal as you went to hug another young woman dressed in a vivid teal, halter dress. Her curly black hair bounced as you two swayed. Viktor didn’t remember her vividly, but she had been one of your friends ever since your undergraduate years.

If only… Though he knew he didn’t have any right to be greeted as warmly. If even he had any right to be greeted at all. Only because you had returned. Because of course, you did.  Once you had told him that despite the high number of students inside the Academy, you'd find each other in one way or another.

“No, not like fate,” you have told him, voice groggy with slumber as you laid against his chest, hands pointing at his dorm's ceiling where she had stuck luminescence cut-outs of stars. "Entropy."

You were right, from all his perfectly calculated plans tumbling into a state of chaos, one he surprisingly wasn’t against.

Until he was.

Garfen twirled the both of you, giggles bubbling like the nearby tray of drinks a waiter was carrying toward the Councilors discussing on a corner of the hall.

You looked like that photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his tattered closet, only that the sepia tones eating it away had been repaired with the tone of your skin, the void he left behind replaced with you looking like a fairy queen with your golden crown and dashing company.

Someone more fitting. But Viktor was now the co-creator of Hextech, wasn’t that enough?

His fingers tangled around the glass’ steam, barely feeling the hot sensation of the alcohol down his throat as he gulped it all.

You’re so pathetic, Viktor. Get over it. Why haven’t you done that already?

“Vik! There you are!” He almost dropped the glass with the impromptu voice of Jayce chiming in his roaming thoughts. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

"You know I'm not… eh, akin to this kind of party," he said, only half a lie. He'd been hiding inside a balcony and then, when Jayce passed by, Viktor slipped between a corner and a column. Now, he'd been too distracted to notice. "I've been unwinding."

“For a moment I thought you were already gone!” He patted his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to introduce you to Miss Favred since morning, but I suppose you had duties to take care of after the meeting.” He had bolted out of there as soon as Councilor Medarda called the session off.

His jar tightened, just as the grasp on his formal cane, naked metal replaced by a coat of black marble and polished wood on its handle. “Jayce, I don’t think this idea about the Hextech Wing would be… good,” he started, pouring in all the thoughts that had flown inside his head ever since the morning meeting. “This isn’t what I imagined when you told me we would celebrate the first decade of Hextech’s creation.”

“Viktor—”

“No, listen to me,” he replied, almost through gritted teeth. How pitiless of him he couldn’t even manage his feelings in public. “We want to help people in need, not to gloat about a fancy exhibit at the Science and Technology Museum. This is just another excuse for the Council to gloat about their grandness. What would the exhibit do for the people who believe in us, hmm? For us as scientists, even? Are you listening to me?” His friend had shifted to his embarrassed posture, where his tall body was trying to shrink into a ball, with hands tightly grabbed against his stomach, gazing at the floor. "Jayce—?"

“We’ve arranged that part of the Museum’s entrance fee is going to be destined to fund upcoming Hextech projects. That way you won’t need as many sponsorships,” Mel interjected behind him. Viktor turned to look at the Councilor, frozen to see the figure tailing close behind. “I believe we talked about it in the past meeting.”

Surely. Not that he would admit he had been too distracted by the nervous movements of your hands gesturing away to explain your design to oblige his mind to follow the Councilor’s debate sprinkled in between.

“Perhaps what he’s referring to is about how much time will it take to seize a positive quantity to fund a project,” you said to save his embarrassing stunned silence, poking your head from behind Jayce’s wide back. Your eyebrows arched slightly, head tilted toward Viktor.

The movement is so familiar from when you helped him through the boring, long seminars with haughty professors and even mouthier classmates. A head tilt and a slow gaze once you had laid the counterargument, ready for him to lock the possibility of a reply with his conclusion.

“I… That wasn’t what I meant,” he said, surprised by his cold tone.

You blinked at him for a moment, a frown slightly forming between your beautiful eyes. He didn’t dare to back out from it, he didn’t have a reason why.

Jayce cleared his throat. “Um… well, Vik, this is Miss Favred, she’s going to be the designer of the Museum ampliation…” He said, and you stepped next to Jayce, lips in a neutral yet mocking smile, with the curves of your lips turned up.

“It’s been quite some time, Miss Favred,” Viktor mustered, a smile plastering on his mouth that was too wide and toothy to be considered polite.

“Likewise, Viktor,” you said, tone sweetly as you extended your hand toward him.

Viktor almost wanted to yank it away once he felt a surge of electricity tingling up his arm once your long and elegant fingers wrapped the reverse of his palm. You giggled, nails digging into his skin with discreet violence.

His lips pressed in a thin line that couldn’t be faked as a smile even as he continued shaking your hand for a minute too long, wanting your eyes to decode the hidden message in his. What are you doing here?

“Oh, do you know each other?” Mel said after calling your name, which made you yank your hand away from his grasp.

“We were acquaintances at the Academy,” you said, gesturing away.

Classmates, the word slipped with an acid aftertaste when Viktor tried to back you up. "Very close classmates." Because of course, this was the perfect time for his brain to break under pressure. Yes, so close you slept against his chest every other night, so, so close that he even burrowed inside of you—

Mel turned to you, with an almost accusatory air. “What a surprise!”

“That was many years ago.” Your gaze swept from Mel’s to his, if only for a second. “I had forgotten about it.”

Oh, so that’s how you wanted to play?

"Well, I'm glad you two can reconnect after so many years!" Jayce said a big grin on his face. The sweet oblivious Jayce. “It’ll be good for Vik to have another friend! It’s… slightly difficult for him to open up and get new ones.”

Viktor glared at him. “Why are you talking about me as if I weren’t here?” he replied, while you mumbled:

“I wonder why that is.”

His head turned toward you in a movement so quick that some of his pushed backward-styled hair fell over his forehead. "Pardon?"

You smiled at him. “I didn’t say anything.”

Oh, you—

"Why don't we leave you two to talk?" Mel said, ignoring the pleading look you sent her when Jayce nodded, saying that there must be a lot to tell between the both of you. “Councilor Talis, let’s go for another drink. There’s something I need to talk about with you.” Probably about the wedding. Not that Viktor was interested in the matter when he had you in front of him. 

From all the stolen glances, he had pieced you whole like a puzzle, filling in the missing pieces eaten away by time with the new image, though he knew some things wouldn't change. Like the way you smelled like hyacinth and mangoes, your favorite fruit. All that freckles and moles and scars dotted around your body like those two small ones peeking over the square neckline on the left of your collarbone, which he knew balanced out with the two tiny moles under your right breast.

Surely your skin was just as heavenly soft as back then despite the occasional roughness of your fingers from working so much. Your palms were always warm against his cold fingers during winter. 

“Viktor," you called him. And he frowned to conceal what he had been thinking all the damn night.

“What?”

 “Why don’t we strike a deal?” you said, arms crossed, disrupting what would have been his doom if he continued.

“Do I look like someone that would strike a deal with a devil, Miss Favred?” Viktor said, arching an eyebrow almost in a flirty way. Just amused enough to push you to the edge of your years-trained composure. You certainly played the part, with all the allure and the deep gaze of your eyes.

“I suppose this must be awkward for you, too.”

“It isn’t awkward for me,” he lied. “You should worry about your work instead.”

“So ready for me to leave?” You chuckled. “I think you should know that I applied to this contest because I need the spotless curriculum if I want to be the new Interior Design teacher at the Architecture Faculty.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me. You said you would leave and never return.” Better put, Viktor cornered you to say so, but he wasn’t going to let his mouth run free.

"And you said we were going to get married," you replied, and Viktor felt himself trip backward if it weren’t for the support of his cane. “So I guess we’re even.”

Viktor stood there, stunned golden eyes wide open. He started calling your name, but you had your hand raised.

“You’re right, my bad. That was unnecessary.” Your hand arranged a loose lock of hair poking your cheek. “Anyhow, I���m not going to mention anything about the… past. So you don’t have to worry about me running out my tongue—despite how close classmates we’ve been.”

“Now you’re just being…” improperly brash, dangerously cheeky. Almost as if you’d been pushing him over the edge of his decorum to see if he’d cornered you against a wall to seal your endless rebukes with a kiss. Or many. “…insufferable.”

"Don't worry." You waved away. "I'll finish my job as fast as humanely possible, and then we won't have to see each other again. Because I know you aren't fond of assisting the Progress Day's party."

He crossed his arms, letting the handle of his cane hook on the curve of his elbow. "I'm not sorry to disappoint you—but I'm very fond of Progress Days. I've changed," Viktor said, but it was only a half-truth. He wasn't sure how he could change a feeling that lay hidden deep inside, frozen in time instead of giving them a real burial. You only had to dig to start seeing the uneven silhouette of the memory boxes where nothing should be more than black earth.

“Anyway,” you replied, your tone bleeding with sarcasm. “That’s my peace treaty. I know Mel and Jayce will feel awkward if they ever discover that they’ve arranged old flames as partners, so let’s just forget it. I assure you it’s nothing that could endanger the quality of this project.”

Let’s just forget it. You were right, as you had always been, and yet…

I've already forgotten you, Viktor, you said inside his mind, a smile that once had left him breathless now hurting him in the unspoken truth that now you were better without him.

Of course, you were better without him.

Yet, Viktor couldn’t help but seek your left hand accommodating the deep V line of your dress for the poignant sight of a band on your finger.

“I’m not a passionate teenager, Miss Favred," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I assure you I'm not interested in dwelling in the past. So rest assured, I won't embarrass you." It was totally unconscious that his voice dripped with contempt.

You curled your upper lip. “You’re such a fusspot, always the victim.”

Viktor inhaled sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you spat, taking your skirt with your fists as you were ready to stalk away.

The parallels made his heart squeeze in a painful grip. Was history about to repeat itself?

Before his brain could recollect the action, Viktor had called your name, hand extended open as if wanting to touch you. “Wait—” As if he had something to tell you.

You ignored him, stopping when Jayce approached you both from the complete opposite direction Mel and he had gone at first. Also, you couldn't point out if the dark marks of brown smeared on his face were just a plaything of the lightning or marks of kisses.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Jayce told you, hand over your shoulder.

“Yes,” you told him with a smile, completely ignoring Viktor. “My feet hurt and I’m afraid I haven’t recovered my sleep schedule since my return.”

"Well, maybe Viktor can walk you home?" he offered. "For what Mel told me, you live near his apartment." Not that he had moved a lot since you left, but seeing the surprise in your eyes felt like a little victory.

“No,” Viktor and you said at the same time.

“I mean—,” you started.

“I want to stay a little longer,” Viktor said. "As I should be open to enjoying these celebrations more. Hextech anniversary only arrives once a year!" He tried to laugh, but Jayce looked at him with such a concerned frown it was hard to keep his act. Your contained snort wasn't helping.

“Vik… I think you’ve had far too many drinks.”

He glared at Jayce for what felt like the thousandth time. "I'm fine, Jayce—”

"Well, goodbye!" you chirped, getting on your tippy toes to kiss Jayce's cheek, and then, forcefully, approach Viktor and give him a goodbye kiss, too. More like a rude smack, with how forceful you were.

"Tomorrow, eight sharp," Jayce told you, poking your side with his elbow. "Viktor doesn't like it when I arrive late."

“I can’t wait,” you beamed, eyes boring into Viktor’s. As if daring him to say something.

"Me either," Viktor lied.

If you wanna get into the taglist lemme a comment below! 🤗

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company

Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT

It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.

“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣

“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT

“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??

Also teehee crack

Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on

The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL

“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED

I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.

F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you

Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me

I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY

“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.

Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!

If only he knew just how far he was really going

“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody

And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS

“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL

Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into

“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—

Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"

Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL

I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5

I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.

Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.

Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold

Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL

Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"

And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5

Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5

And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.

Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."

I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.

Sam's canonically good hearing returns!

Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol

Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.

Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"

I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D

Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.

Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"

GILDOR!!

GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE

I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY

"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho

The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"

FINROD MY MAN

I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.

The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"

Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD

I love him

And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly

....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.

Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!

Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.

The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"

Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute

Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE

“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—

"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS

Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5

Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".

Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: Bonfire - 03/10/2024 @wolfstarmicrofic

Word count: 663

It was quite funny to watch really, Remus mused to himself as the chill in the air cut through his cloak. It was the heavy winter sort despite the fact it was still relatively warm and mid-October. 'Relatively warm' was objective Remus supposed, Sirius was in just jeans and T-shirt and seemed perfectly content while Remus shivered. James always says opposites attract in that way, cold hands and warm hands belong together and so on. Someone laughed as Sirius sparked the zippo in his hand once again, but it didn't light, and the spark didn't catch the kindling in the fire pit.

"I thought you promised us a bonfire Dogger," Mary teased, throwing a marshmallows at Sirius' head. It bounced from his hair, leaving a powdery white mark in its wake. Sirius stood up and threw the lighter on the floor. "Stop calling me that," he huffed, stepping away from the unlit fire. Remus' eyes tracked him as he sat down on a log beside James, he wondered when he'd admit defeat; he'd been attempting to light this fire with a very much empty zippo for the last 20 minutes. Remus smiled as Sirius met his eye. He visibly deflated - his normally perfect posture slumping.

Remus waved his fingers, wiggling them in a petulant taunt as a small flame sprung from each one. A clever peice of wordless, wandless magic, but for some reason, Sirius demanded lighting the fire the muggle way. No one agreed. Remus spoke up at long last. "When was the last time you refilled that thing?" He asked with a teasing grin, loving the way Sirius' face scrolled through emotions; confusion, annoyance, defeat, and plenty others. He cocked his head. "warcha mean 'refilled?"" He asked, leaning foreward and plucking the silver lighter up and flipping it open.

Remus covered his laugh with a cough, but Lily and Mary didn't give him the same niceties, laughing loudly at Sirius' dumbfounded expression as he flipped the lighter over in his hands. "It needs fuel to work, Dogger," Mary explained like Sirius was a toddler. It made it all the harder not to laugh. Sirius folded his arms. He had that haughty pout on his face he got when he was wrong about something. "What fuel does it even take?" He asked indignantly, as if someone should have told him sooner - perhaps they should have and perhaps Remus shouldn't have filled it for him behind his back for the last 3 years just to see how long it took for him to realise.

Sirius glared at Remus, the one who had given him the zippo in the first place, and Remus poked his tongue out back and then... right there. There was that tiny flit of realisation on Sirius' face. This was worth the three year wait. Remus would do it all again just to see that expression on Sirius' face when he realised he had been bamboozled. "I'm divorcing you" Sirius called sarcastically as he strode to Remus "and I'm taking the kids" he added as he dipped his slender fingers into Remus' trouser pocket and fished for the lighter in there. He pulled out the zippo. It was a much nicer one than the one he had gifted Sirius - it was engraved with daffodils and gold rather than silver.

He flicked it open and bought a small flame to life with a click of flint, the orange glow flickering in his eyes "say goodbye to baby tân, he lives with me now" he mused playfully waving the zippo right infront of his nose. Remus rolled his eyes. "buhbye tân bach," he murmured while waving at the lighter before Sirius stepped away to light the bonfire, just in time, really The sun was just dipping below the horizon, and that chill in the air was only worse. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth losing his light - he'd get it back in the end. He always did.

[skzcollision]

take the breath that's true | lee felix (1/2)

pairing: non-idol!lee felix x fem!reader

content info + tw: time travel, angst, fluff, felix is called yongbok in this, wrote this when i was sleep deprived lol, violence + bullying

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had begun as a small lie, really. A lie so good, you believed it yourself.

"I'm taking a semester off."

You would be doing a paid internship to fill that time, so it's not like you're not doing anything because god forbid you take a break from your studies to backpack through Europe or something so useless. Your parents would have a stroke.

And then, you did the unthinkable.

You dropped out of university.

Got a full-time job at a bookstore. Began living life peacefully, all the while deceiving your parents who lived a few hours away.

The liberation you felt by doing this was nothing you had ever experienced before.

Of course, it had its drawbacks. You were practically living a lie. Because you dropped out of school, you no longer saw your friends every day. They often hung out without you, and over the years, you eventually turned into something of a social recluse.

You had one good friend from work who invited you to go out every once in a while. Each time you declined because blowing out your eardrums whilst standing in a room packed with strangers either drunk or high on something never really appealed to you.

Soon enough, you reached a place of discontentment.

Would your life have turned out any better if you pushed through with school?

That was something you wondered about every single day.

"Are you eating well?"

The line fell silent, save for the distant sounds of your mother chopping up something on her cutting board. You could hear something boiling on the stove.

You stared blankly at the bowl of instant noodles by your sink.

"Yes."

Another small lie amongst all other lies.

"You sure?" She pressed, disbelief evident in her voice. "Why don't I come over there sometime, fix you up a proper meal-"

"No. Mom, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of gas, I'll be really busy these upcoming weeks."

"Well, when is your break? It's been a while since you've last visited us, you know. Your poor father has been wanting to see you, he misses you."

Your mother knew just how to pull at your heartstrings.

"I know, I miss you guys too. I'll visit on my birthday, okay? In a couple of months, I promise."

Seven years ago;

They were at it again. The three biggest pompous assholes of your grade.

This time, it was this short, lanky kid. You recognized him from homeroom.

Your eyes flitted to his so-called friends, turning away sheepishly when he looked to them for help. Just one moment ago, they were all at their table, talking and laughing.

Why was no one doing anything?

Just as you were lifting yourself from your seat to inform a teacher - someone, anyone - another boy stepped in front of the smaller one.

The bullies were blocking him from your line of sight, but you could see that he wasn't much taller than the former. They were still towering over him.

"Isn't that Yongbok?" The girl behind you whispered to her friend. "He does taekwondo, right?

"Yeah... but there are three of them. And they're double his size."

You promptly slid out of your seat, gripping onto your metal lunch tray. Your friends glanced at you in a snap, all visibly concerned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just..." You didn't get to finish your sentence as you neared the guys. Not that you knew the answer to that anyway. You were acting on pure impulse.

Now you could fully hear what they were saying.

"Rich guy, huh?"

They were apparently laughing at the boy's choice of accessories. He wore a gold watch on his wrist. It did look quite funny on him - only because it seemed a bit too big and grown up for the boy.

Something did surprise you, though.

If he was intimidated, he was great at hiding it. It was as if they were all having a normal and friendly conversation. On the other hand, the kid behind him was close to wetting his pants.

"So, if you're done talking to my friend, we would like to have our lunch now."

This did nothing to defuse the situation.

"What did you just say?"

Sweat pooled between the palms of your hands, the utensils clattering as they shook in your tray.

Your mind flashed to the first week of school. That kid, who got beaten up so badly he was coughing up blood.

Was this just going to keep on happening?

Without much thought behind it, you drew your arms back and flung your tray at them as hard as you could.

It made an audible plunk as it collided with the back of their leader's head.

There was momentary silence before the cafeteria exploded with stunned gasps and sputters of laughter. You remained frozen at your spot, arms still above your head. Your lunch was now on his white shirt, staining it orange.

"Who the hell-"

Everyone in the room was staring at you. Your gaze fell to the boy with the gold watch. He looked afraid now.

But not for himself.

You were so, damn lucky.

One second, you were receiving the deadliest stare from the scariest guy at school, and the next, a teacher had come to break them up.

For the next few days, you went everywhere with your friends. Needed to use the restroom? Needed to grab something from your locker? The whole group was coming with you.

You had never once been so scared for your life.

One afternoon, one of your friends had overheard the bullies talking. They were teasing their leader for letting you off the hook so easily. He apparently refused to bully a girl - a cute one at that.

"Oh my god, ew. Unbelievable." You shook your head with an expression of disgust. "There's no way. You made that last part up."

"He really said that!"

Your friend next to you released a wistful sigh, pursing her lips. "I wish someone would fall in love with me right after I'd just chucked a full tray of food at them, too..."

Things weren't so easy for gold watch boy, though.

He became their target. And he made it so easy for them, too. Every time any of them had a problem with anyone, he would be there, at their rescue. Taking their place. He didn't fight back either.

You just didn't get it.

How could someone possibly endure that much? That had to have taken a physical and mental toll on him. Yet you would see him in the hallways every single day, with that same bright smile. Despite the cut on his lip.

They kept getting interrupted on school grounds, so the bullies had made it routine to take him somewhere after school. You decided to follow them one day, and you were led to an alleyway just a couple blocks away from school.

Why didn't he just run away? You had seen him on the track. He was one of the fastest in your grade.

"... just not on my face, guys."

You ran and snuck up behind some stairs, peeking over the railing.

Whatever he had said earned him some scoffs.

"Pretty boy doesn't want his face ruined."

"What a vain little shit."

Yongbok blinked widely, almost innocently - as if it was all just one little misunderstanding.

"Oh, it's not like that at all. It's just my mom... I don't want her to know about any of this."

"Alright," the biggest of them all chuckled, lip curling smugly.

Your heart twisted in anger.

"We can have that arranged for you," he ambled towards the boy.

"Sike!"

His body turned, and his foot suddenly shot up out of nowhere.

You winced with your entire self as the boy stumbled back, holding himself up against the brick wall.

"Shit..."

From your angle, you couldn't tell what exactly happened. But you knew you had to do something before the situation escalated.

You could swear your whole life flashed before your eyes as you sped towards them, yelling. "Stop!"

"The hell?"

"It's that bitch that threw the tray!"

You stopped just a few feet from them, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. A deep sense of regret - then anger, at these stupid bullies, and at yourself for not knowing what to do next and just charging at them like an idiot.

Someone then yanked on your wrist, ending your train of thought. You were forced to move on your feet again as Yongbok dragged you with him through the alleyways. Several voices followed, hollering at you - but you couldn't register anything they were saying as you were focused solely on getting away.

It felt like it had gone on forever. Fortunately, you had run into some policemen, and that managed to scare the guys away.

You now sat at a convenience store, icing Yongbok's jaw where a bruise was starting to form.

"Man, what am I going to do about this?" He clicked his tongue as he stared at his reflection. "This isn't gonna go unnoticed - and I'm running out of excuses."

You were brimming with anger once again.

"Why do you let them do that to you?"

He stared at you, dumbfounded.

"If they don't pick on me, they'll just pick on someone else."

He had said it so plainly and simply. It was mind-boggling. You genuinely could not tell if he was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met or just an idiot. Somehow, you felt he was both.

You walked away momentarily to pick up something from the cosmetics aisle, paid for it and went to sit back down again.

"So..." You began as you gently dabbed some coverup on the bruise. "You think this makes you like some sort of hero then?"

"Hadn't thought about it that way," his eyes darted across your face absentmindedly. "I'm sorry I didn't get to thank you, for the other day. In the cafeteria."

You waved him off, cleaning your finger on a piece of napkin. "You take their hits on purpose, don't you. I can tell."

He bobbed his head, looking down at his shoes.

"And you dodge some so you don't end up seriously injured."

You sighed through your nose in exasperation. "Why haven't you reported them?"

"You don't know, do you?" He gazed out the window. "Nothing will be done about it. One of them - his father donates large sums of money to the school."

"Doesn't make him untouchable."

"It kind of does."

You hated it. That deep down, you knew he was right.

Yongbok slid a packet of ice cream towards you. "Here," he grinned. "For saving me from the bullies, twice."

Present;

On the ride home, the car passed by your old high school. It did - every time you came back.

And you were always left wondering what ever happened to that freckled boy since you last saw him.

If he was happy, and if he was doing better than you now. You hoped so.

It was comforting how much had remained the same, as if you had never left - a time machine in a way.

You longed to go back.

To the summer before you began your first year in university. The last time you were ever truly happy.

Despite it being the night before your actual birthday, your parents had thrown an event for you. So many people had shown up - neighbors, old friends from high school that stayed back.

It felt very reminiscent of the past when everyone would get together, and you slept that night content for the first time in a very long time. You dreamt of your life before, how those warm memories felt closer than ever now that you were here.

Such happiness...

"Wake up, my precious girl~"

A grin was spreading across your face before you could even fully open your eyes. You ignored the ache behind them as the sun greeted you first thing.

Your mother smiled kindly back at you, her fingers gently combing through your bedhead.

"Mom..."

"Hm?"

"Can't I stay here..." You mumbled. "Stay here forever?"

She laughed softly, and your smile grew at the sound. "Don't you want to see your friends today? They must have something planned for you."

"My friends?" You rubbed at your eyes, still disoriented from sleep.

"C'mon," she stood, patting your leg. "Let's get up. I've prepared breakfast."

With your eyes half-shut, you felt your way out of the room and sat yourself on a wooden chair.

Your mother settled a bowl of soup in front of you on the table. "Happy birthday, sweetie..."

"I have something for you." Excitement shone in your father's eyes as he pushed a dark blue box towards you.

He didn't... again?

"Dad, you don't need to get such expensive gifts."

He chuckled heartily. "Can't I get something nice for my only daughter just this once?"

You flipped the lid open and grew puzzled at what was inside. It was a simple, silver necklace with a round diamond pendant. The one you wore every single day.

The one your father gifted you a few years back. It was the first time he had spent so much on a present.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, but dad - isn't it..."

Everything felt eerily familiar.

You shot up from your chair, and headed back to your room.

"What's wrong?"

You searched for the necklace on your nightstand where you had placed it last night, then on the floor, if it had fallen by any chance.

It wasn't there.

As you rose to your feet, your eyes caught the screen of your phone.

What? It couldn't be right. Yesterday was Friday... so shouldn't it be Saturday?

"You guys aren't... playing some sort of prank on me, are you?"

Your parents glanced at each other with momentary confusion, then back to where you stood in the hall.

"Are you that surprised with my gift?" Your father laughed, then beckoned you over. "Come on, you can put it on now. Then we can eat."

It was happening again - all of it.

The things your parents said at breakfast, you wouldn't have been able to recall it but now that it was in front of you all over again, there was no doubt about it.

Everything was the exact same.

You looked in the mirror and had bangs again.

Your phone was blowing up with the same messages from your friends in that old group chat.

This only meant one thing.

He was still here.

⭒

[themuseandantarctica]

* 𝒊 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏

sentence starters from joanne greenberg's novel i never promised you a rose garden. change however necessary. i never promised you a rose garden is a semi-autobiographical account of a young girl admitted to a mental hospital for treatment for her schizophrenia, which means...

tw: mental hospitals, medical, self-harm, suicide, suicidal ideation, ableism, ableist language

it should look as if we trust her. she must feel that we trust her…

they call it a mental hospital, but it's a place where they put people away.

we should have expected them. why should we be so surprised?

i told you the truth about these things you asked. now are you going to help me?

you are just in time for the patient's soothing tea and the end of the world.

it was considered advisable to terminate the interview.

well, i'm a hundred square yards sane.

you will not have to give up anything until you are ready, and then there will be something to take its place.

the prisoner pleads guilty to the charge of not having acute something-itis and accepts the verdict of guilty of being nuts in the first degree.

someday i hope to help you see this world as other than a stygian hell.

it seemed like a good life -- a very good life she had. now they say it wasn't.

i can't really see you and i can't really hear you.

they think that both of us would be too much just now.

it's without a cause, you see, and that's what is so frightening.

i hated it and had no talent for it. it was one of the flags to capture, you see, and he had to try to win it, even through me.

it's going to cost us -- everything. you know that, don't you?

am i not what you wanted? do you have to correct my brain, too?

you see, she knew, in her own way, that she was not attempting suicide, but making the call for help, the call of a mute and confused person.

waiting for the blows… and then there came a time, later -- a time where she began to arrange for blows to fall.

i swear to you that i will not use you.

they never said they were sorry, not one of them.

is this… forever?

that was not my doing. i was not even in on the consultation.

you are walking around your destruction and poking a little finger at it here and there.

it's funny… i never figured that kid was really sick.

i scratched my arm a little -- that's all.

do you know what a coldsheet pack is? i'm going to set one up for you.

this is the little tart i was telling you about.

there are flowers in a hospital and strength, too. you will live and be strong.

i could not be sure. i am good at getting deceived, you know.

you know… the thing that is so wrong about being mentally ill is the terrible price you have to pay for survival.

there is no injustice being done.

don't hit me, [name] -- don't hit me! i know how hard you can hit!

once i greeted my best friend and she turned from me. when i asked why, she said, "after what you did?" she never spoke to me again, and i never found out what happened.

none of the others laughed, really. you were only afraid that they might laugh. you alone made yourself lie.

there are other deaths than death -- worse ones.

we might someday… have to be "well" and be in the world.

i didn't want to hurt you -- to make you sicker.

when i get around to it, i'm going to do your portrait.

my hair feels dirty.

it is my selfness and it is poisonous. it is mind-poisonous.

another camouflage is to blame it all on someone else. it keeps you from having to face what they really did to you, and what you did to yourself and are still doing.

somewhere there is a thief who has heard that people bury and hide their gold and jewels. can you see the expression on his face when he comes on what i have buried!

i like being somebody's punishment; it makes me feel needed.

their religion doesn't permit them to commit suicide.

i found out about being insane. it really is something.

lay off [name], will you?

do you think the sick people are all in hospitals? do you think you have a corner on suffering?

you ought to know mental trouble when you see it.

it's envy! the best and smartest are always envied. walk straight and don't let them know if they touch you.

i thought i was going to die, but at last they came back.

that kid looks through me as if i'm not here at all.

i am a hair in my eye, and so are you.

a pacifist is one who uses his open hand.

i never promised you a rose garden. i never promised you perfect justice, and i never promised you peace or happiness. my help is so that you can be free to fight for all of these things.

it's because of the maybe. it's because of the little, little maybe.

she never took your world at all, don't you see?

what do they want with me, broken into and spoiled already? i'm not good enough for anyone else.

i could still be crazy if i wanted to?

i wish i could have made it to that narcotics cabinet.

are you calling me? is it me you want?

you have quite a number of bits and pieces all copied down on those papers of yours.

who ever told you that learning facts or theories or languages had anything to do with understanding yourself?

there is nothing you can do to me that my own craziness doesn't do to me smarter and faster and better.

i'll be around. you could even get privileges to come and visit me.

i never could ask for anything. i thought you knew that. when i have to ask, something happens to me and i… well, i start to fight.

i always wondered why those reports seemed to be more about [name]'s thoughts than about her body, like pulse or temperature.

maybe the cannon blast we were fearing was only what we heard.

you are captive and victim. we did not want you to escape.

it's going to hit -- please -- it's going to hit harder than i can stand up under.

god, they build their tortures cunningly!

everyone is so afraid of getting blood on the living room floor. "i can't stand to see suffering," they say, "so die outside!"

i think now, though, that you are little too happy with yourself for this trouble you have.

mommy and daddy are shelling out plenty on that bitch who isn't fit for saving.

get away from that door, [name]. you have no business there.

you are trying to hurt yourself now. what happened?

don't forget what i know about you!

i had known all those years and years how sick i was, and nobody else would admit it.

if you're seeking objective reality, this is one hell of a place to start.

even if you didn't really talk out loud, it was that look you get…

i'm not giving up; i'm just tired, that's all.

occasionally, others are damned by you to punish you.

this you have earned. i don't often give presents either, so take it.

this is one-by-one from the jawbone!

my difference is not my sickness.

when i get upset… i usually have trouble seeing properly.

did i hurt anybody? did i hurt anybody?

kid, i never knew you had it in you. you can really fight!

if i want to die, what am i saving myself for?

you've seen this… awfulness before; why are you so shocked?

measure the hate you feel now, and the shame. that quantity is your capacity also to love and to feel joy and to have compassion.

i would be worse than wasteful to give a moment's time to a hopeless case.

you will find no shortage of moral issues and hard decisions in the real world.

i have decided not to be immoral, because of what happened to [name].

where is what you used to scratch this?

it is why you need a hospital.

you are worn out, but no longer so very frightened, are you?

what am i doing here with all these crazy people!

i don't want to think anymore! i'm tired and scared and i just don't care anymore what happens.

i like an anger that is not fearful and guilty and can come out in good and vigorous english.

we just didn't get on. we didn't like each other. i think perhaps we were too much alike…

you've only got one kind of cold, the kind coats can fix.

you may not even have to do anything about it. you may not even have to think about it.

it was just a simple statement in my mind that i was going to live, to come up alive.

what hurts is being kicked by the forces that everyone else lives by and years of being nuts and not being able to tell anyone and have them believe you.

i tried to go easy. i hope it didn't hurt too much.

grapevine never told me you were back.

it can be very, very tough, but people are sometimes better than you think they will be.

somehow lately, there's been something like a caring in her.

now, am i crazy or did you make that story up?

you can have something on which to model yourself.

stop it! will you never end it!

if everybody would stop dying over the big secret, it'll be a lot easier.

you're not here that much. i want to see you this week.

no, [name], he was weeks ago -- i just went to the party with him.

when she blows, she's going to cover the ceiling.

sometimes you have to fight what won't yield and put yourself where it's safe to be crazy.

whose idea was this in the first place?

if i weren't scared to death of it, i would be so grateful!

you're not just rubbing it in good to get a little free suffering out of it?

alive is fighting. it's the same thing. i still think [name] could have made it.

well, i hope you like the room.

now, when you have come again to the world, you are able to remember what was also there with the darkness. much of it was darkness only because it was balanced against the light of loving and experiencing truth.

what about your new friend, [name]? do you still see her sometimes?

the one place i could never go… the one hunger i could never admit.

do they know how beautiful and enviable their lives are?

i can't go back to my merry high-school days again, volleyball in the gym and teeth-teeth at the school dances.

could you call them for an appointment?

just… well, i liked to think of you being outside and starting along, that's all.

hey! you know what happens when you burn yourself? you get burned, that's what!

is it true that you bring me beauty lately only when you are threatened?

if it's okay with the people down at that place she mentioned, i'll be ready whenever they are.

say "hello" for me. throw something at her and be rude so she'll know it's me.

she is prompt and obedient and never insane in the classroom.

does it all have to go? do we pile it up and throw it all out?

i will never have that. not by fighting or study or work or withstanding will i be able to walk with one of them or be warmed by their hands.

we had to call your landlady and tell her you weren't coming back there tonight and that you were here.

you rotten whore! let me go!

i am going to hang with the world. full weight.

[hazbeans-for-thee]

Radioapple Week Day Three - Deal

Characters: Lucifer, Alastor, Alastor's shadow

Warnings: None

Word count: 796

Summary: A little mischievous shadow decides to pay Lucifer a visit upon Alastor's request. What might he find while he's there?

Alastor watched as Lucifer ducked into his room at the end of the hallway. His lip curled in slight annoyance as he huffed an irritated sigh.

That snake of a demon has been avoiding him nearly all week! What few jabs he has been able to thrown at the king were simply being laughed off or completely ignored! This was their game they played, and Lucifer was breaking the rules. He hummed in thought as he turned around, casting a shadow on the opposite wall that began to twitch with life. Maybe he could get some usefulness out of this mischief maker.

"Go and see what our majesty is busying himself with that is so much more important to him," Alastor commanded. The shadow's mouth glowed a bright green as it slipped onto the floor and underneath the bedroom door.

Inside his room, Lucifer was sitting on his workdesk, his legs crossed as he examined the duck in his hand. "I think that color is right..." he muttered as he tilted it in the light. It was painted a dark red shade, almost like the color of blood. After a few more moments of pondering, he scowled and tossed the duck aside- right into a pile of discarded pile of ducks colored in various shades and hues of red. He stuffed his face in his hands and groaned. "No, no, it's not right, none of these are right! How the hell am I supposed to even tell what color it's supposed to be! I can't just go and compare swatches or something, he'd know immediately what's going on! Why can't I just-"

Lucifer paused as he heard the sound of rustling. His tail suddenly appeared and swished behind him as his eyes darted around the room. "Alright, who's pulling the funny business?" he asked as he hopped down from the desk. "If this is some kind of prank, I'm not falling for it..." he quickly spun on his heel and came face to face with the moving shadow. He pointed at it, and a burst of gold magic erupted from his fingertips, causing the shadow to freeze in place when it was hit.

"Aha! Gotcha bitch!" he exclaimed as he stepped toward the shadow that was now stuck to the wall. "You're tall, dark and creepy's little buddy, yeah? I bet he sent you, didn't he?" The shadow scowled back in response. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. In fact... I might need your assistance for a little project of mine. If you help out, and promise not to tell, I'll let you go. How's that sound?"

The shadow seemed to huff in annoyance before it nodded in agreement.

"Perfect!" Lucifer motioned to the pile of red ducks on the floor. "You see, I'm working on a little gift. It's a duck that plays a little song and can dance to it! Pre-programmed with five snippets of songs from the thirties! But I want it to match Alastor's red, and I've gone through at least a hundred prototypes, and I just don't feel like I've gotten the shade right. And since you're literally attached to the guy, you're the perfect one to ask!"

The shadow seemed to bristle a little with pride. Lucifer snapped his fingers, allowing it to escape momentarily from the wall but not from the room. It sunk down into the pile and rummaged around before producing a duck in its hand.

"That one looks good?" Lucifer asked, and the shadow nodded. "Much appreciated! Now, do you plan on telling Alastor about this?"

The shadow shook its head.

"No-?" Lucifer exclaimed in bewilderment. "What, do you want something else too?"

The shadow nodded and held out its hand, palm facing the floor. It took Lucifer a moment before he realized what it was asking for.

"Oh, you want a kiss on the hand...?" The shadow nodded once again, and Lucifer found a fond smile crossing his face. "Just like Alastor, always trying to pull a fast one on me." He took the shadow's hand in his own - it felt a little odd to be holding something that isn't supposed to be corporeal - and placed a small kiss on the back. "There, the deal is set."

The shadow grinned and made a motion of zipping its lips shut. Lucifer laughed and snapped his fingers again. "Alright, you're free to go." The shadow gave a salute before sinking out of the room.

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

"What the hell do you mean, 'he caught you'??"

The shadow's ears fell flat against it's head as it noddded.

Alastor groaned in frustration as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. "You choose the worst times to be incompetent."

While Alastor wasn't looking, the shadow's lips curled up into a grin.

[luffythinker]

OKOKO list

Kirishima/Monoma

- Overtime by OkeyDokeyTodoroki (swimtime) for Bonster - this one is short but it's really cute

Hold Me Tight by Queen_Preferences for EpicKiya722

Sweets and Tents by redinkvibes

Lady nagant & Overhaul not a ship but i thought it was until i read it

- I Hope This Letter Finds You A Broken Husk Of A Man by Jokers_Card_Deck

he has a panic attack several times and she helps him even tho she hates the things he does she isn't gonna be unhuman and leave him

Sero/Iida

- 5-Inch Inseams by Cloudsu - this one is like really nsfw but the characterization of Sero is really funny and it's like crack taken seriously and i think its a funny read but also OH BOY SEROS REALLY GAY

Mina/Camie

- going home by linzbees - this one is really cute like i dont even go here with this ship but its really cute, they play baseball and dont have quirks

BKDK

kacchan's letter by spiketheespiegel

spilling over every side by failbender - nsfw

TDBK

No Strings Attached by menofsweaters - nsfw its very entertaining and i love how they are characterized here

KiriKami

Just Jokes by pretty_werewolf - this one isn't finished and i dont think they are gonna finish it but its still really good 2 chapters

Bro by mismashrory for chibistarlyte - nsfw but like its silly but like Jirou is really funny in this one

BakuIida

one single thread of gold by aloera for turnandburn - its funny how they interact i love them

EraserMic

Can't Help Falling In Love by drunkenCharm - short but lovely

hope you can read some of these cause those are just a few

I'm gonna link it all here and give my short thoughts on it!! the ones in orange are my favorites!

Kirishima / Monoma

Overtime - OkeyDokeyTodoroki (swimtime) - this was short and sweet and it makes me want to read a longer work of them processing their feelings after that kiss

Hold Me Tight - Queen_Preferences - also very very sweet, i love seeing them in love!!

Sweets and Tents - redinkvibes - this one was fun!!! lowkey feel like Monoma would hate to go hiking/camping but he would do it because of Kirishima and then be mad that he actually enjoyed it

Lady nagant & Overhaul

I Hope This Letter Finds You A Broken Husk Of A Man - Jokers_Card_Deck - this was an interesting read, it feels like a character study and it makes me think more about the nuances of lady nagant

Sero / Iida

5-Inch Inseams - Cloudsu - “Why do you insist on flirting with me when you’re drunk and then forgetting I exist when you’re sober?” oh they're so why'd you only call me when you're high coded, I'm screamingggg, this was my favorite so far (no like i wish you guys could see my face rn)

Mina / Camie

going home - linzbees - very cuteeeee, i really enjoyed this couple, love seeing girls thriving

Bakugo Katsuki / Midoriya Izuku

kacchan's letter - spiketheespiegel - “You are so fucking beautiful it pisses me off,” that's basically their whole dynamic in a sentence byeeeejkdfjkfjk i also enjoyed this one, but i also love bkdk with all my heart so who is surprised

spilling over every side - failbender - fun fact i have already read this one a couple of years ago??? it's really good, i love bkdk in quirk accident scenarios (I have recently read one of Izuku hit with a sleeping beauty curse)

Todoroki Shouto / Bakugo Katsuki

No Strings Attached - menofsweaters - this is the only one i didn't read it all cause it's a bit long, but i read the first chapter and it does seem promising!! it's also very well written and I'm lowkey curious about the previous works of the series, so i might get into those first before continuing this

Kirishima / Kaminari

Just Jokes - pretty_werewolf - ok you are very evil for sending me this, cause it's TOO GOOD and UNFINISHED why would you condemn me like this???? now i NEED more and there isn't

Bro - mismashrory - A BROJOBKJDFKJDFK this gotta be the most on-brand thing for them like omg, your honor they have one brain cell left. please i can't stop laughing this is just too gooddfkjdfkjfdkj jirou is such a slay we love her

Bakugo Katsuki / Iida Tenya

one single thread of gold - aloera - this one got me since I read the title cause it's taylor swift lyrics!! i loved bakugo just showing up to his room and demanding iida to stop being weird like honey have u seen yourselfjdflkdf “you tricked me into being friends with you. This is coercion.” THIS IS SO BAKUGO-CORE I CANTJHHKF i really loved this one, the author has a really nice way to portray bakugo and iida, i enjoyed it a lot

Eraserhead / Present Mic

Can't Help Falling In Love - drunkenCharm - this one was also short and sweet, i must say i don't usually read about them but it's very lovely!!

[bluxb3rry]

❝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜

Hyunjin x male reader! He/him pronouns! English is not my frist language! More angst? idk ── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

In a world were only Kings and Queens rule, the money its the most important thing. Who has it, wins and who doesn’t, dies.

Thats what his father always told him, when he was just a little boy and inocent, afraid of the oh so called "real world", he was though how to steal and act, how to make People see him with pity only to steal their bread.

-Y/N, never try to take orders from someone else, only from me even if im dead-

His father was the reason he still steals, his father was the reason of why he fought, he stold, he ran and he got hurt in his name.

So, it was only fair to blame him in this situation.

-Y/N L/N, its funny seeing you like this right now, you promised to kill every single one of us by now, remeber?-one of the guards told him, while he was in the floor with blood coming out of his mouth.

-What a piece of shit, i wonder why that prince wants you still alive, you should die by now-

-fuck you-Y/N said

Then everything turned black.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

When he opened his eyes again, he felt tired and pain all over his body, looking at the ceiling and his gold details, with also a big painting of clouds in it. Already knowing where he was he just looked around, trying to find the window thats its hopefully open. He sat slowly in the bed, seeing his naked body with bandages and violet spots, when he touched them he felt more pain.

The door opened

-Y/n!-he heard an angelic voice, then he felt hands in his chest and how he was slowly being lay down to the bed again-you need to rest! stop trying to escape for once

-trying? i always escaped before you watched me again-he said smiling

-yeah well, you look worse now, you took longer to wake up-the male said, his long black hair being tied up while he looked at him.

-Hyunjin, i can't stay-

-but you can! you are safer in here, you have food, a room, warm water-he sighed-why do you always have to go and keep stealing?

Hyunjin turn away, looking for the food he brought in for him, bring in it more closer.

-my dad didn't like this style of living, you know that-he was interrupted by a biscuit in his mouth

-you say that every-fucking-time, im tired of that you know?-he started cutting the food, knowing that Y/n couldn't move his own arms-i...i miss having you here, being with you

-stop-

Hyungjin felt your hands in his own, but didn't try to look

-you know, even if you are the one with power, they would kill you the moment they see you with me, if not for the gender is gonna be for who i am-

-i told you we could escape-

-i don't want you to live like me-

-but you just said!-Hyunjin shouted, but stopped, noticing how close you both were.

-i know...but we just can't, we aren't made for each other-Y/N ate a little bit more, and then stand up.

-you don't even kiss me anymore-Hyunjin looked at him-why? you can't even do that? you can't give me that satisfaction?

-if i do it, im afraid i won't be able to go-

-Then do it-Hyunjin got closer to you-kiss me, stay here, no one has to know, it can be our secret-

-if i stay, i could love you, but you would have to be with some lady to not make it that obvious, to have that heritage your father oh so wants-you looked at him-one way or the other we can't be happy

Silence took place, Hyunjin trying to think in another way while Y/N was suprised he didn't escaped yet.

-Just for this day, please-Hyunjin pleaded, holding your hands

-if i go tomorrow, its gonna be worse for you-

-just...-he sighed-let me have this joy for one day, let me imagine that we live in a world where you didn't have to live like this for some code, a world we are not gonna be hated for our love, a world were i can wake up and have you on my side-

-it's just gonna be a dream, love-

-well, let me dream-he kissed him

and you accept it

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

You were both kids when you met eatch other, he escaped from his castle with tears in his eyes and you found him, you hugged him while saying that "pretty people should not cry!" and made him laugh.

You played like kids, he remebers how he got all dirty, his white clothes being a big contrast with the dirt and your own clothes, in his eyes you were a free spirit that liked to do anything, he loved that form you, didn't even care that you were a boy.

After he came back from outside (not before a kiss in the cheeck as a goodbye from you) he told everything to his parents, his dad said he was just a kid and no boys could have such feelings, that he was just confused. When he cried to his mother and while she was hugging him, she told him "love is different for everyone, if you like that boy, then i guess is okay"

He escaped almost all days from the castle to look at you, to find you, it looked like everytime he find you, you changed a little bit more.

So, after some years, when you both stopped being kids and he knew everything you did, he said everything, his feelings, his worries, everything. All under the moon and stars.

You kissed him that day, you hugged him and said the same to him, but also saying the one thing he already knew.

"in a world like this, all we can wish is just gonna be a dream Hyunjin"

"then, let me sleep and dream it"

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Hyunjin woke up the next day, feeling the slight pain in his hips, and he touched his neck that was full of love marks, he smiled and then looked beside him, hoping to see you.

But the bed was to cold.

Your warmt wasn't even there, his smile dissapeard and then he looked the window, seeing it all open. He looked at the room, not seeing anytrace from you.

Then he looked at the little paper that was in the pillow beside him, were your head rested.

"i love you"

He laughed, he laughed and hide his face with his hands, slowly feeling the tears appearing and his laughs turning into sobbs while.

He just woke up from his dream after all.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[sednonamoris]

good, honest thieves

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: A fight with Micah leads to a lecture from Dutch. Loyalty is exactly what you've been raised on, but to what? To whom? The answer seems to be John every time.

Warnings: Knife violence, canon-typical violence, fish guts, strong language, Micah Bell's whole existence, sexist language/insults, Dutch being our fav little manipulator, blink-and-you'll-miss-it mild angst

Word count: 1,465

A/N: I've been waiting to write this altercation since I first started ghost story, so I hope you all enjoy it for this nice, short chapter 💕

Series masterlist • AO3

— 

You miss out on a hell of a firefight. A lot of law dead. A lot of townsfolk dead. A run-in with Mr. Leviticus Cornwall himself.

You’re surprised that he deigned to show his face in the mud and the muck of Valentine, but if there’s one thing rich folk are good for it’s greed. From the sound of it, he’s none too pleased to have been robbed. 

From the sound of it, it’s a lucky thing John and Arthur and Dutch and Strauss ain’t dead after all that. 

The gang was quick to make a hasty retreat.

Now you’re camped outside a little town called Rhodes, farther south than you’ve settled in years. Arthur teases that you and Javier must be happy to be in warmer climes, but personally? You hate it. New Austin is dry heat and desert for miles. The air there bites, sharp and clean. Here it’s thick as molasses and wet with humidity. Sweat and condensation cling to everything. The very ground beneath you is mucky and muddy and lush with overgrowth, like the vegetation can’t stand it here, either. It claws and climbs its way out and onto everything. You’ve never seen undergrowth like this, swallowing trees and homesteads whole without discrimination. 

Out of everyone, you figured Dutch would hate it most - you can’t count how many times he’s told stories about the Southern scum that put his daddy in the ground. But he seems in his element out here. The town is divided into factions he and Hosea have wasted no time playing against one another, and rumors of confederate gold have lit his eyes with that same gleam you saw before Blackwater. You know you won’t leave until he has it - he’s even got Bill and Arthur playing deputy while working leads. 

Today they’re off with the sheriff chasing ‘shine in the hills, so camp is mostly quiet. Or it would be, if Micah wasn’t hanging around.

“Ghost,” he calls out, uncomfortably familiar. He approaches Pearson’s chuckwagon with open arms that are greeted only with a flat stare when you look up from the fish you’re gutting. You promised Pearson you’d take care of them while he does the shopping.

“Micah.” His name grits past the teeth you’re doing your utmost not to bare in warning; already he’s closer than you’d like. 

“Haven’t seen much of you since I got back from Strawberry,” he says.

“I keep busy.”

“Not too busy for Marston.” He rocks back on his heels and raises his brows like he’s caught you out. Something about the way he says John’s name makes your hackles raise.

“Me an’ him are friends,” you chop off a trout head aggressively while making even more aggressive eye contact. “You and me, on the other hand, ain’t.” 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he wheedles. “I’m a real friendly fella. We oughta go drinking sometime and I’ll show you.”

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the thought. It’s one thing to work a job with him, when you have to, but spending quality time with Micah? It sounds like just about the worst thing you can think of. He has this slimy quality about him, and the way he talks about some of the others is enough to solidify your poor opinion.

Dutch can make nice with him all he likes. You won’t. 

“We all heard what happened when you went drinking in Strawberry,” is what you say aloud. “Rhodes might not survive.”

He laughs through the fact that the joke was meant to be at his expense and leans closer. “You’re funny, Ghost. Real funny. I can see why John likes you so much. It’s too bad he’s so… Well, you know.”

“He’s so what?” If looks could kill, Micah would be stone dead. 

“Useless,” he shrugs. “I mean, first he gets hisself half eaten, then he’s fleeced rustlin’ sheep— almost got his brains blown out in Valentine. Not to mention he let Morgan steal a two dollar whore right out from between his—”

 All of the sudden you can’t hear past the ringing in your ears or see past the blood red of your vision. He’s snickering, leaning closer still, leering, and faster even than you can register you’ve grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face against the fish guts and the wooden table before you.

He cries out, somewhere between alarmed and disgusted and enraged. 

Your filleting knife rests against his pulse point.

“Say it again,” you snarl.

Stark, killing hate reflects back on your knife blade with the whites of his eyes. “Goddamn you!” 

“Not so funny now, huh?” He struggles in your grip. “Say it again.” 

He opens his mouth and bares his teeth, likely to spit more profanities, when approaching footsteps stop you both in your tracks. You glare up at the intrusion to find Ms. Grimshaw. Her face is even more severe than usual. 

“What exactly is going on in my camp?” she demands, hands on her hips. 

“Micah was just apologizing,” you say. Your smile is a feral show of teeth. 

He squirms in your grip, claws at your hands. “Get this goddamn lunatic off me!” 

She purses her lips, unimpressed. “Ghost, unhand Mr. Bell.”

You let him go reluctantly, pressing the knife to his skin just a little harder before shoving him back. He staggers away and you wipe your hands down your pants and grimace. 

Micah’s hands fly to his throat, like he’s checking it’s all still intact. His cheek shines slimy red with fish blood. 

“You’re crazy!” he accuses. 

“Ghost is plenty of things,” Ms. Grimshaw says before you can cut in, “but crazy ain’t one of ‘em. I suggest you learn from this particular mistake, Mr. Bell. Now go on, the both of you. Get! Before you make another mess for me to clean up.”

You murmur a chastised yes, ma’am under your breath.

Micah stalks away, glaring over his shoulder without another word. 

All that’s left is the thunk, thunk, thunk, of your knife against the wooden table. You let yourself imagine each unfortunate fish is Micah, instead. 

— 

Dutch finds you later. You’re sat on a log overlooking the lake, glaring out across the water like it’s somehow responsible for everything that’s happened up until now. He sits beside you and lights a cigar. 

“Ms. Grimshaw tells me someone tried to kill Micah today.”

His tone is neutral, but a quick glance out of the corner of your eye reveals a tightness in his posture that’s never a good sign. He lets out a puff of smoke and watches it fade into the horizon with squinted eyes.

“She tell you he had it coming?”

“Now, Ghost—” he starts to chastise, but you cut him off.

“I never pretended to see what you do in him.” His eyes widen and flash with wounded pride, but your face is set in defiance. “Maybe we’re all nasty killers and degenerates, but he’s worse. I ain’t gonna stand by while he runs his mouth about any one of us.”

His face is all severity and rough-cut gemstone. “Any one of us, or just John?” 

Outrage flares your nostrils and twists your mouth into something ugly. “That ain’t fair! And it certainly ain’t the point.”

“Isn’t it?” His hand on your shoulder, so often a comfort through the years, rests heavy and threatening. Your pulse jumps. Your mouth feels dry. “We don’t have the luxury of doubt - not between any of us. Haven’t I taught you loyalty? Don’t I deserve your trust?”

That’s all it takes for you to deflate. “You have it. You’ve always done right by us, but—”

“There is no but,” he says. “Faith, Ghost! Faith.”

“Faith, then. Fine. Faith.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, but his eyes soften all at once into that familiar, sparkling brown. “I knew I could depend on you.”

“Sure. Always.”

He leaves with one last squeeze of your shoulder and orders to look into the Braithwaite family - something to do with prize horses. After all, who better than the infamous Ghost Rider? The Van der Linde Ghost? 

—

You stay on that log for a long time. Thinking. Smoking. Stewing in the not-quite-anger left in Dutch’s wake. 

—

That night around the fire you and John gravitate to one another like always. He brings you a plate of fish and sits beside you; a little too close for friends, a little too friendly to be anything but.

Somehow it aches more than usual.

He chatters on about his day, but all you can hear is the sneer of Micah’s voice, and all you can feel is the burn of Dutch’s knowing stare. The sweat on your brow has little to do with Lemoyne’s oppressive heat anymore.

[kit-williams]

First Meeting

Lion El'Johnson D&D AU

Canon status? It's canon to its AU

"How did you meet mother?" Luthor says looking up at his father as he draws the heavy bow back watching his father's eyes narrow before letting the arrow loose.

"Why are you suddenly so interested?" Lion says calmly as he and his son start to forestwalk.

Between patches of trees their conversation can be heard by the moss and the ferns and the fungi. "Because I'm a man now."

Lion snorts at his sixteen year old son. Still just a boy in his eyes as he was no Primarch no need for him to grow up quickly. "Is that so?"

"And well not everyone can save a damsel in distress to get a wife." Luthor says as if it is obvious. The fledgling Paladin and the Dark Angel look to the twisted beast snarling as the arrow Lion had loosed had ripped right on through it.

"Fine I'll tell you. Kill the quarry." Lion said pulling his sword out just watching his son fight. He had promised his Dove that he would make sure the boy was safe.

"SMITE!" Luthor shouted and Lion watched those green eyes turn gold as he could feel it... out of all his children so far Lion had sired... he was truly his grandfather's child. As power rushed into the monster through his sword and it laid dead. He could tell Luthor was grinning under his winged helm.

"Alright."

-------

Seventeen years earlier

Lion frowned at the ruckus the soldiers were making. He clearly knew his part in keeping this fledgling lord safe... perhaps his brothers were right that he was simply a sellsword at the moment but Lion didn't care. Beasts seemed to be in plenty supply for him to fight.

"Not a party man?" A voice cooed at him as he looked over at the maiden, though maiden was a strong term given her appearance as she grinned at him. Shoulders exposed to the twilight sky, her blonde hair in unruly trussels, and she gave him such a cat caught with the cream grin. "Oh I do apologize," She cooed with certainly no apology in her voice, "Not a party man, ser?"

"Lion." His deep timber resonated as he gave her his name.

"Oh the big man of the hour. I hear the lord is going to give you something nice tomorrow." She winked and Lion just scoffed but Gloria took it in good stride given the fact the mighty Ser Lion hadn't backhanded her away or shooed her off.

"And what would you know of it?" He said pulling on his gambeson and freeing his long blonde hair from its tie. It fell straight verses this maiden's half curled locks.

Lion's icy blue eyes watched her face as she hesitated for a brief moment... the slight shame in her tone before she just lightens it, "Well I'm one of his handmaidens it's my job to know." She forces a smile.

"Well why are you here?" Lion asks bluntly and it seems she is unphased by his rough nature.

"In his service or besides you?"

"Both." Lion says waving a hand as he walks over to a small stone wall and sits on it.

She shrugs following him, "Got nothing else really going for me. And to let you know good Ser I was out here catching my breath first. Only so many times you can allow your ass to get slapped passing by men before it gets annoying."

Lion's head snapped towards her and she sighed, "None of that good Ser no need to waste your righteous chivalric anger on a pigeon like me." She says sitting on the wall with a smile.

"Pigeon?" Lion says softly.

"Yeah, some men like to think proper court ladies like doves. Pure and just sit there being demure and cooing softly. I'm hardly anything like that. I'm just some piebald bird only good for sending missives and annoying the bakers for bread. Nothing like a dove."

Lion sat for a moment before speaking, "Doves and Pigeons come from the same family. A dove is just a fancy pigeon."

She blinked at him before slapping her skirt and laughing nearly falling off if not for his hand grabbing her arm as she just laughs and laughs. He tilts his head not seeing what is so funny about it.

"Oh thank you Ser Lion you've made my night. Perhaps I shouldn't be so dismissive of myself."

The topic of conversation is lost to his memory but she eventually tells him her name... Gloria. How it dances from his mouth. Lion was taught on Caliban to seek the demur and courtly woman but there was a freshness to Gloria.

"Ser Lion I'm awful at dancing." She says holding his hands looking down at her feet.

"You're in good company. I'm awful at dancing myself."

Again she tilted her head back laughing, "Then why are we trying this?"

"To live as fools for a night." Lion says softly as the two do slow methodical steps. Hardly any room for deviance on Lion's part as his hand rests on her hip as her off hand rests on his shoulder and the other hand for both of them rest together.

"Forgive what I am about to say Ser Lion but bad dancer my ass." Gloria giggles as he takes the lead before dipping her and a furious blush rushes over her face as this feels scandalous.

"I cannot forgive your mouth Lady Gloria." He smiles internally as she giggles at being called a lady. Her rough hands against his as they simply dance. But the night grows long and tomorrow calls for duty.

"I won't say I wish to see you again... I won't get my hopes up." Gloria says.

"Why not?" Lion uncharacteristically asks.

"While you are getting some lucky lady as a gift, Oh hope you aren't torn up about the surprise being ruined. I get to share the bed of a new man to help convince another knight to stay here. But if by some act it should be you... tell him you've never met me." And with that Lion knows not to ask questions with the list in her voice... the way she looks away and down... the shame of it all. Before she looks up, "I hope to get enough one day... go out and have a small adventure... perhaps find my own knight in shining armor." She pauses for a few moments, "Oh I must be boring you. Have a good night Ser Lion. I shall treasure this night."

"Good night Lady Gloria." He says kissing her hand causing her to blush deeply.

------

"A simple companion nothing more really." His lord says walking with Lion and as much as he wishes he was back home... Lion remembers to remain somewhat humble. He and his brothers have not siezed power in these lands for a reason... they did not want to be warlords again. But Oh how the Lion wish he could throw his weight around but without his sons to rally to his aid... Lion huffed.

"Again my Lord I do not need some nanny to cook and keep my armor cleaned or patch my holes."

"But you could be using your time elsewhere verses mending your things yourself. Just allow her to show her use." Lion could see that glint in his eye but he would humor the man. "She is particularly good at what she does. Ser Lion this is Gloria."

He was the master of keeping a stone face as he looked over Gloria. No longer in attire fit for a lower class she was put into lower nobility attire, her wild hair pinned back into a tight bun, painted lips, all of that wild bubbly energy he saw the prior night gone as that piebald pigeon she had called herself... had been painted white and forced to coo so sweetly. "I am but your humble servant Ser Lion." She says with practiced grace.

"Have you two met?" The lord says looking over at Gloria.

Lion speaks up first, "No. I've never met her. I would have certainly remembered meeting a charming dove."

She curtsies lower, "You flatter me good Ser."

"Splendid. Just if she doesn't meet your tastes just let me know." He says turning away as Gloria spares him a look and for once the Lion feels a mixture of anger and pity. He ignores the prattling of his lord as he takes her hand and once again kisses the back of it.

"It is lovely to make your acquaintance my Lady."

--------

Luthor just looked at his father blinking. "Wait mother always mentioned there being a dragon."

"Her old liege lord is the dragon in her stories. She simply was saving her dignity. Unlike your Uncle Curze's wife who embraced her past your mother doesn't like to remember it." The Lion says before walking over and lopping the beast's head off. "You did good today Luthor." He says patting his son's head.

While Luthor much like many of his cousins inherited most of their features from their fathers... Luthor inherited his mothers eyes and her unfiltered smile.

"So when are you going to tell me about the Dark Angels?" Luthor says looking up at his father.

"That is a talk for when you are older." Lion says softly as they walk together.

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[shirefantasies]

From mossthebogwitch I had no idea what i was doing but I did my best.

Since it was now a dare i am submitting myself for a matchup: presently I am mortified.but too curious to back down now. I have sealed my own fate per usual. I appreciate you taking me on this journey and hope you enjoy the experience! I don't know what gender I prefer in partner: I have a huge weakness for Kíli - I have no hard fast rules- just have fun it's a Tumblr matchup yknow?🤣

I would prefer Hobbit based matches since that is my current hyperfixation.

I radiate golden retriever energy: loyal, never gonna give you upn never gonna let you down, never gonna turn around and desert you. I'm the unofficial security guard according to my boss. I have a level head under pressure and I don't back down.  I have a constant stream of humor. The comedy doesn't end. I enjoy being an artist and writer in many media's. I study folklore and weird nature things. Im the weird facts kid grown up to the ' adult who knows how to do a bunch of different things'.

I have trouble socializing due to anxiety and OCD. Because of this I'm naturally more of a watcher until I feel comfortable.  I'm either casually friendly or hiding behind other people talking.  I'm a mom friend and the one people go to for help. I work in counseling its natures pipeline.

If I'm not working, reading, tending my pets, wild foraging for supplies or exploring hiking trails, I can be found cobbling together my house and garden from whatever I get my grabby hands on.

I have a community garden and regularly supply winter camping gear, food, first aid, and hygienic supplies. I do feral cat housing too so I just do a lot of weird stuff. Last week I saved a squirrel?? Befriending crows is starting this week lol. Never dull.

I plan on painting my entire house in fantasy based murals and hiding meme paintings behind appliances..Spock is behind my stove.

One funny thing i do that my coworkers thinks is hilarious is I have an entire measurement system for measuring animals using only potatoes as a counting system. Yknow how you count horses with hands?I count animals using potatoes and i am right every time the key is when to switch your counter between Russetts and Yukon golds. It's a good day when a growing animal graduates from being counted from russetts to Yukon golds.

I'm 5'0  and don't mind because I grew up LOTR with Gimli!! He's short and I'm short too!! I am told I have mood ring eyes that change shades of blue with my emotions and I'm red green color blind so that's fun.

Voted most likely to have a mug of coffee or tea in hand at work while I give one of my coworkers a gentle peptalk which turns into me pulling out the Gimli scale and asking them where they are on there today.

Yes, this is great @mossthebogwitch ! More detail always helps on my end 🥰 also you sound like such a fun person I wanna be friends 😆😆😆 the potato counting & secret memes are legendary OMG! I definitely saw you with a dwarf right away, but after some thought, I decided on...

Bofur!

You meet under curious circumstances, you having settled at the foot of the great mountain after the war. Thinking you are alone, you had made your way to the woods, idly walking until a chattering squirrel spiraling up a tree distracts you. Given your love of animals, you strike up a conversation, getting quite lost in it all when a jovial voice rings out behind you, asking if you’re getting along, then. Turning, you see a dwarf with a large floppy hat and twin braids standing a ways behind you, apologizing for startling you- you must've jumped more than you realized. In the end, he introduces himself as Bofur and offers you a piece of one of his brother's biscuits from his pockets to give to the squirrel. Finding out that he works as a toymaker, you promise to visit his shop, and when you take in all the wonders he creates with his cousin, well, you can hardly stay away! Bofur ends up enlisting you to paint murals upon the walls of his and Bifur’s shop, which the young ones of Erebor and New Dale alike delight greatly in. Bifur is very impressed by your art and building skills, elbowing Bofur at every chance he gets and waggling his eyebrows over the amazing lass that’s seemingly just fallen into his life.

The first time Bofur actually initiates some time alone with you, he asks you to join him for a night in town, and that’s when he learns you work with livestock. You best believe he laughs his mustache off at your counting technique and also vows to steal it. You can see in his manner, though, and what you know of him that he would be great with the animals too. He can see that you prefer him not to ask so many personal questions and to lead the conversation which he is more than happy to do! He tells you all about his family, the quest he went on, his funny nice hobbit friend Bilbo, where to get the best ale in town if you’re into that sort of thing, a cool rock his brother found in the mines the other day, you name it! Everything is lighter when you two are together. Ever the gentleman, he waits to share your first kiss until he is completely sure you’re ready.

Bofur loves your height; you are a few inches taller than him, not much but just so that he can rest his forehead against yours and put his head on your shoulder. Either one of you can cuddle against the other’s chest as desired. Knowing how much of your time goes to helping others, though, brings the dwarf to lean heavily towards caring for you whether that means he is the one holding you or singing for you or simply by giving you lots of time to get comfortable and express your needs, even if it’s hard. Even in your most tender moments, though, both of you are cracking jokes. Always laughter between you two! Anything big gets called a Yukon Gold with you two because he just loves that saying so much.

If you are comfortable with it, Bofur loves to take you dancing just to show you off! He also adores the way you’ll stand up for him if anyone is mean or pushy- your loyalty is astounding and you truly have a dwarf-like spirit. He gets heart eyes when you become a de facto bouncer and actually throw a drunk or two out of the place. He also takes you camping, pitching a tent and bringing your supplies so you can stay wrapped outside with your animal friends and some weenies to roast beneath the stars.

Teases you to high heaven about being colorblind, though. Overdramatically reminds you what color you’re painting that toy, asks you if you’re sure that’s the right color for the leaves on your mural. Feel free to smack him lightly, he knows he deserves it and he’ll just laugh! If anxiety or OCD symptoms lead to you having a routine or a placement of things that being comfort (if so, big mood friend!), Bofur is definitely the best at remembering to have them out there and follow that for you, no questions asked. You’ll feel so cared for, that his house is a home. You are his warm hearth, his neverending laughter, the only person who could convince him to take home a wounded opossum and call it Bofur jr. but this is his life now and you know what? Bifur was right- he’d run into quite a catch in those woods, a lass far more beautiful than any old fern or flower.

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