#like I don't know how I'd get into the tank to wipe it down no matter how much it looks like it needs it

[the-algebra-thing]

just fired up a norelco fabric steamer from I believe 1985, based on a few internet searches, to test out whether I'd be able to use it for some dresses I have whose fabric content is not clear to me instead of risking an iron, and it seems fully functional. no idea where this thing came from or how it came with me to my dad's apartment when I moved out of my mom's house but I've been meaning to get it our for ages and I am so psyched that I finally remembered to AND it still works. it has just been sitting in its original box in my closet for at least two years. this thing is gonna be invaluable to me I already know it

[evie-sturns]

Right here-Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris is your best friend, he has been for a couple years. one night you and chris are laying on his bed talking about anything and everything, somehow the conversation leads to sex, where you tell him a confession, leading to him taking your virginity.

contains: smut, fluff, swearing, aftercare, chris talking u through it, virgin!reader.

-----------------┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐-----------——

9:43pm

chris and I have been laying on his bed together, staring at the ceiling as the conversation rapidly switches between topics.

"remember like the first time we met, how it took us a solid hour to start up a real conversation" chris laughs,

"i was working chris! i was like 16 i wasnt gonna risk my job to leave from behind the counter to talk to you" i nudge him with a grin.

"working at topgolf.." he teases back, "i mean i only knew nick from middle school, but i did serve your food and we spoke!" i say defensivley.

chris shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before he adjusts his chain which hangs around his neck.

"what was...." chris starts, thinking about what to say next. i tilt my head on the pillow to look over at him.

"your worst sex experience." chris asks casually with a stupid smile on his face,

my heart sinks slightly, truthfully im a virgin, and i'm almost 21. chris has no idea about this.

a silence fills the room, i clear my throat "well- uh"

"oh my god how bad was it" chris laughs.

i feel tears somehow prickle at the corner of my eyes, it doesn't bother me that much.

a small laugh exits my mouth, chris looks over at me "are you okay-?" chris says with a small laugh.

"yes! yes i'm good-" i say, sitting up and crossing my legs.

"chris can I tell you something" i sigh, wiping my face as a nervous smile forms.

"anything- hey you know about that time at graduation when i went the wrong way when i went up on stage to get my fuckin' paper thing." he yaps,

"oh my god and they had to guide you in the right direction" i scoff back.

"stopp" chris groans, sitting up and pushing me over onto my side, "now speak"

"this is like- the wrong time but.." i start,

"i've never done like anythingg.." i say, dragging out 'anything'

chris goes silent,

"like you've never fucked-" he says, but i cut him off "yeah."

he nods understandably, "thats okay!" chris chirps. "are you planning to loose it or not?" chris asks

"well, i've always wanted to its just like i'm worried that i wont fully trust the person who i hook up, and it'll just be a desperation thing- i don't know though." i say, opening up to him

"yeah, that makes sense." chris nods.

"but i really want to, like its always on my mind" i groan, flopping my head back down onto the pillow.

"i mean we could fuck" chris says with a shrug, i laugh it off,

he's clearly joking...?

"no like honestly think about, i'm horny 24/7, your wanting to loose your virginity, and you trust me i think?" he continues rambling with a cheeky smile painted on his face.

chris says stuff, a lot of stuff, and i'd say 90% of it is unserious

"chris... stop fucking around this is a serious topic" i scoff.

"no, like actually- deadass." chris says, slightly more nervous than earlier.

i go silent, sitting up in bed and looking down at him "yeah?" i ask quietly, chris sits up aswell "i can't tell if you're being serious chris"

he grabs my jaw, "i'm serious.." chris leans closer to me, my heart thumps aggressively as i stare at the brunette's lips, which are practically begging to be kissed.

chris's hand falls slowly from my jaw to my hand, "like 100% serious right?" i ask again, my mind now not being able to comprehend that chris could be inside me in a matter of minute.

"100%." he says,

i rip my white tank top off from over my head, chris scrambles to remove his shirt, i pause for a second as chris's eyes lay over my exposed chest.

"chris- I don't know what i'm doing this is gonna be so embarrasing for me" i start, but chris interuppts me

"shh- sh." he shushes me, grabbing my hand again, "do you want me to talk you through it?"

i nod, playing with chris's long fingers as an anxiety reaction, "can you tell me with your words what you want please?"

with a wobbling breath i start, "please talk me through it, i- uh.. i need you? please."

chris nods, "oh shit wait,yeah- if you want i'll go get nick and matt out of the house, they won't think we're doing anything 'cause they know that i don't bring girls over to fuck,- and they wouldn't think we'd do shit together"

i shake my head 'yes' rapidly, "thank you."

chris stands up off the bed, throwing on his shirt and unlocking his door, he walks out of the door, closing it behind him as i lay back in his bed,

anxiety rushes through my veins, my bare back presses against the soft plush of his mattress that i have been so used to for so many years, where chris told me all about his first hookup at 16, now hes gonna be mine on this same bed.

i hear his distant chatter with matt, "hey we need some shit from target from tomorrow, take nick with ya hes probably interested in childrens toys" he says with a laugh before matt agrees,

chris walks back into the room a minute or two later, his cheeks instantly turning maroon again as he says me laying half naked on his bed, he takes a deep breath "matt and nick are going to target in a few, you okay?" chris asks, discarding his shirt to the side of the room again.

"yeah! i'm just nervous." i laugh slightly,

"about what?" he questions, flopping down on the bed next to me,

"i just feel like it's gonna hurt- or i mean.. i don't want this to change things between us, 'ya know?" i sigh.

i hear matts van pull out of the driveway, the small pebbles crunching under his tires.

"it won't hurt." chris says, his voice serious, yet reassuring.

chris sits up off the bed, he turns around to face me. i sit up aswell, i feel chris's large hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him on the edge of the bed.

"i'm going to take these off, yeah?" chris says, his fingers lingering on the waistband of my shorts.

"yeah." i smile up at him, laying back on the bed. chris pulls my sweat shorts and panties down to my ankles in one yank, his eyes widening as i feel his gaze drawn between my thighs.

"so perfect," chris says, his voice raspy.

"okay- wait." he whispers, rubbing his eyes, "can I ask, when you say you've never done anything, what's the most you've done.. sexually" he almost cringes at his words.

"um.. probably just doing stuff with myself.?" i reply, chris nods "okay good."

"okay, just try not to be too loud, the neighbours are always in their backyard" chris laughs, hovering above me, his face directly ontop of me as i lay on the edge of the bed.

my eyes widen as i feel a veiny cold hand on the inside of my thigh, "you sure?" chris asks for the 80th time,

"chris i need you, yes- please."

i close my eyes, the brunette presses a finger against my hole "just gonna stretch ya out a little bit first hm?" he says from above me before pressing his long finger deep inside of me,

"fuck." i whisper under my breath, my back arching slightly off the bed.

he begins to curl that finger inside of me, adding another finger quickly

"look at me."

he says, i squint my eyes open, soft whimpers escaping my lips. i lock eyes with him as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me.

a desperate gasp escapes my mouth as i feel his mouth attatch to my clit, "oh my god- fuck oh my god." i repeat under my breath.

"gonna finish already for me?" chris says with a hint of a cocky tone in his tone.

i let out a loud whine which echoes through the room as i feel my orgasm rapidly approaching "you got it, im right here." chris says into my ear.

i instantly clench around his fingers, the knot in my stomach snapping with a moan of chris's name. "there she is, let me hear you."

i flop my arms above me on the matress as chris pulls his fingers out of me, he wipes them on my thigh before starting to yank down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers

“tell me when your ready okay?” chris says, sitting down on the bed next to me as i lay down,

“chris”

“yeah?” he replies

“thank you, you didn’t have to do this.” i say with a small smile, my cheeks still flushed.

“no honestly i’m more than happy to do this” chris laughs, earning a nudge from my elbow to his rib.

i sit up on the bed, giving chris a certain look. he nods, standing up off the bed and pulling down his boxers.

i stare very obviously at his length, my eyes fixed on the long vein which follows the whole left side of his cock.

“you okay?” chris laughs slightly, i look up at him “yeah, no- just nervous.”

chris grabs my hand “listen, i’m going to talk you through everything, it won’t hurt, i promise.”

“okay.” i reply, “what position do you want me in?” i ask slowly letting chris’s hand go.

“just lay down on your back, wanna see your face okay?” chris says with a smile.

i lay back down, my bare back hitting the soft plush of chris’s matress. chris takes my hand again, “squeeze my hand if you need a break” he whispers.

i breathe in heavily, then out as chris positions himself between my legs.

“can you spread a little more for me sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name making me clench around nothing.

i spread my legs further, chris admires me, the position i’m in right before his eyes.

“there we are.” he says under his breath,

“i’m just going to give you the tip, and if it’s uncomfortable tell me okay?” chris says, squeezing my hand lightly as he rests his tip against my core.

“please.” i breathe out, looking up at his addictive eyes.

chris slowly pushes inside of me, a burning sensation as i stretch around him. i let out a pathetic moan. he pauses,

“you took the tip, feeling okay?” chris asks, looking down at me, his brown hair flopping on his forehead as he leans down to hear my awnser.

“feels new.. but good.” i whisper, chris nods.

he nods before pushing further inside of me, i arch my back off the bed, strings of whimpers exiting my mouth, i squeeze chris’s hand hard, he instantly stops

“chris- how much more?” i ask, overwhelmed

“you took half, should we try the other half aswell?” chris asks in a serious tone.

after a few seconds i reply “yes.”

chris places a kiss onto my lips, i kiss him back.

my eyes widen, i guess it was a good distraction because i barely notice chris pushing deeper inside of me, i let out a pleasured moan “fuck- chris”

i feel him bottom out, he has small droplets of sweat sitting on his forehead, his pale cheeks are a deep red.

chris starts to speak after about half a minute of silence, accompanied by our shared heavy breaths. “can i move?” he says, “yeah.” i reply.

he slowly starts to thrust in, and out of me. almost pulling out, but then pushing back inside of me, his pink tip pressing against my cervix lightly.

“you’re doing so well, let me hear those pretty noises.” chris says, his voice low and croaky.

i fill the room with loud moans

“look at me, look at me.” chris says, grabbing my chin which is tilted upwards from throwing my head back. he tilts my head down, locking eyes with me.

“you feel so good around me mhm?” chris groans, my eyes squinted but still staring into his.

“i’m not gonna last long chris.” i whimper out, chris nods

“that’s perfect, i’ll tell you when to finish and you will” he replies, i nod frantically.

i feel my high coming, with every thrust i clench around chris.

“ready..” he says, almost whines,

“you okay?” i ask, my breathing intensifies

“just need to cum, real bad.” he replies, his voice strained.

and with that, i finish with a scream of his name.

chris instantly pulls out, painting my chest and stomach with white streaks. “fuck y/n, oh my god, fuck-.. fuck.” chris throws his head back, stroking his length a final few times.

he falls down on the bed beside me, propping himself up on his elbows.

after a handful of seconds he sits up, pulling me onto his lap. “you okay? you did so well, took me so well.”

“i’m okay.” i laugh into chris’s chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” chris says, tapping my hips then carrying me into the bathroom.

he places me down on the countertop before grabbing a damp cloth.

he pats my inner thigh with the cloth, he lets out a small laugh,

“yeah?” i question

“i never woulda thought you’d be screaming my name.” he says casually.

i scoff as chris leaves the bathroom, he comes back with the clothes i was wearing earlier he starts to redress me, his concentration at an all time high.

after chris had redressed he helps me off the counter, “cmon let’s go get something to drink.” chris says, grabbing my hand and leading me out of his bedroom.

i’m met with nick and matt, leaning on the kitchen counter. my heart stops, i thought chris got them out of the house?

chris instantly drops my hand “thought you guys were at target.” he says with a embarrassed laugh.

“we got 2 minutes down the road then decided to get it another day.” nick says, eyes fixed on chris’s.

“so are you two offical?” matt asks with a smile, chris’s head snaps round to look at him “what do you mean!” he says defensively

“trust me, we heard those fucking screams” nick laughs, slapping chris’s bicep.

“no guys, i can explain i swear.” chris starts, following nick and matt close behind, as they walk into the living room.

“it wasn’t what you think-“ chris rambles, i can hear the smile on his face.

i laugh to myself, shaking my head with a scoff.

————-

[ckret2]

Chapter 82 of you can really tell the writer got a new art program this week and went apeshit with it instead of doing anything productive: the Mystery Shack is in terrible peril from the government and only one thing can save them:

Teaching Bill Cipher how to flirt with humans!!

####

The Stans explained the plan to Dipper and Mabel as briefly as possible—that Bill had to save them all by flirting with the head fed—and that was about as far as they got before Mabel started squealing. They wished her good luck with Bill, wished him good luck with Mabel, and beat a hasty retreat, with Dipper tagging along after Ford on the pretense of helping figure out how to get the flash drive out of Gompers.

"This is perfect!" Mabel slammed the door closed—and Bill had the sneaking suspicion she'd trapped him on purpose—then grabbed both his hands to drag him further into the room. "I can see it now! He'll fall in love with you, and then he'll realize that living in a small logging town is so much more emotionally fulfilling than his high-pressure fast-paced big city government job, and he'll see what a special, magical place Gravity Falls is and he won't wanna do anything that could change it, and Washington will call him like, 'Your report is late! Have you forgotten your mission?' And he'll go 'I have a new mission now: my WIFE!' And—"

"Hold on!" Bill pulled his hands back. "I think you skipped the part where you married me off to a government agent."

"No I didn't! Because he says that and everyone gasps and then he gets down on his knee in front of you and pulls out a ring and—"

"In your dreams, star girl." He dropped onto Mabel's bed and crossed his legs. "Think a little less cheesy Christmas romcom, and more noir spy movie with a double-crossing femme fatale."

Mabel measured that up against her limited spy movie knowledge, and asked dubiously, "You're gonna drop him in a tank of sharks?"

"Hey, if you have one...!" Bill laughed. "But, no. The plan is just for me to keep him distracted long enough for the nerd squad to get the flash drive, wipe any sensitive data, and leave it somewhere that'll make the agents think the goat dumped it naturally."

Mabel considered that. She inhaled deeply. "Okay," she said. "But. What if it's one of those movies where the evil girl spy has a change of heart because of the good guy's charm and you do fall in love."

"Do you remember who we're talking about?" Bill asked. "Fine! If we fall in love, you can be the ring bearer, best maid, and officiant—but don't start stapling together a white dress just yet."

Mabel completely skipped past his main point. She whispered, "You'd let me make your wedding dress?"

"I'd turn down every fashion designer in Milan, Paris, New York, and London combined."

Her eyes widened. "I've gotta start drawing wedding dresses." She rummaged around the floor for an unused piece of paper and the nearest crayon and/or marker box.

"Draw me as a triangle," Bill said automatically. "So there, you're caught up on the plan!" He slowly slid off Mabel's bed toward the door. "So if you'd let me out so I can prepare..."

"Ohh no. Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford brought you to me to learn how to flirt, and I'm going to teach you how to flirt."

He groaned, but plopped back down on Mabel's bed. "I don't need to be taught how to flirt! I'm a pro! While your universe was still gearing up for a Big Bang, I was fending off marriage proposals from lovelorn generation ships and sentient oceans."

"You're not seducing ships and oceans." Mabel had already flopped onto the floor and drawn a triangle with an eye, and was trying to figure out how to put a dress on it. "You're seducing a man."

"Which is even easier! You people barely last a century, you're desperate! Humans fling themselves at me left and right!"

"Then you'll have no trouble passing my love quiz."

Bill automatically frowned. There was a part of him that still tensed up at the word "quiz" even if he did know more about romance than the entire human race combined. "What, like the one you put the guys through on your dating show?"

"Yes, but with all new questions! So you can't just copy all of Soos's answers to get a perfect score!"

"Psh! Like I need to copy anyone's answers," said Bill, who had never taken a quiz in his life without copying someone else's answers and had been planning to do just that. "All right, hit me."

"Question one! Uh..." She tapped a crayon to her chin as she thought. "What's the best gift to give on a first date? Jewelry, chocolate, a wedding ring, or flowers?"

"Ooh, we're starting with bribery, huh?" When in doubt, the right answer was usually C; but "jewelry" and "wedding ring" seemed kinda redundant. Well—cheating had never failed him before, why stop now? "None of the above! I've got a better answer than all of them!"

Mabel lowered her crayon to give him a skeptical look. "Oh yeah? What?"

"Sneak into their dreams the night before, find out their heart's desire, and surprise 'em with that," Bill said. "That's not even a romantic move. It'll let you win over a human in any context! Birthday parties, baby showers, job interviews, criminal trials, hostage negotiations..."

"What if you don't know their heart's desire?"

"Then you're not me."

She set down her crayon, laced her hands under her chin, and said, "Okay, then. If you were trying to win me over, what's my dream birthday gift?"

"Replacing your bedroom with a bouncy castle with inflatable furniture."

"Ha! No it's n..." She trailed off. "Wait. Ohmigosh."

"Told ya."

"I've been dreaming too small," Mabel whispered. She shoved aside her first drawing and started drawing her fantasy bedroom.

Bill picked up one of Mabel's dolls—a floppy tiger—and started talking to it like he was lecturing it. Forget this whole "taking a quiz" thing; he was much more comfortable in the roll of the teacher than the student. "And if it's a blind date and I can't stalk 'em beforehand, nobody's ever disappointed by a solid gold brick," he told the doll.  "It's both practical and pretty, and it appeals to humans' natural greed without making them feel sleazy about accepting a wad of hundreds from their date."

"What's Agent Powers's heart's desire?"

Heck. He didn't actually know. He'd ducked in on the guy's life a handful of times, but he'd never needed to pay that close attention to him. What did boring people like? "A really nice leather wallet," Bill said.

"Okay, you're off to a strong start," Mabel said. "Question two: what's the ideal location for a first date?"

"What are my options?"

"Fooey to the options! I wanna hear your thoughts."

"Then that's easy: anywhere they can't escape from until they love you," Bill said. "Even better if you can serenade 'em."

Mabel nodded in approval. "Perfect answer, full points! Every Inkwell princess movie and vampire novel on the market agrees! Question three: best first date outfit?"

"Sexy."

"Okay—yeah," Mabel said, "But specifically, what does that look like?"

"Tallest hat you can find," Bill said.

Mabel waited. Bill didn't say anything else. Mabel said, "What about the rest of the outfit?"

"Bow tie. Outfit complete."

"That's just what you wear."

"And it's always sexy!" Bill insisted.

"Maybe in Flatworld, but this is earth! If you go out dressed in nothing but a hat and a bow tie, you'll be having your date in the back of a police car!"

"Fine," Bill huffed. "Fifty pairs of gloves—and the more of them you have hands to fill, the better! A dress made out of blank checks! Two snakes! A fur coat made out of live kittens!" Bill shook the stuffed doll emphatically with each point. "Good enough?!"

Mabel squinted thoughtfully at him. "The kitten coat has potential."

"Damn me with faint praise, why don't you."

"What about more traditional romantic outfits? Like... a red velvet suit with a leopard print shirt? Or short shorts that say 'too hot' on the butt?" Mabel asked. "Or a t-shirt with your date's face on it in a heart! That shows your date 'I'm here to focus on you!'"

"What if my date's face is ugly, did you think about that?" Bill asked, mainly to cover up the fact that he was chagrined he hadn't thought of the velvet suit himself. "Forget about fashion. Next question!"

"Okay, how would you prepare yourself for the perfect date? Aside from finding a tall hat and stalking your date's dreams."

"Hygiene's the most important thing," Bill said. "Humans are very attuned to pheromones. It's one of your base instincts."

A look of relief cross Mabel's face. "Yes! Good start. So we're talking a shower, or...?"

"Oh yeah, if you're going on a date in this country, you've gotta scrub that skin raw. There is no smell Americans hate more than the natural smell of other human beings." 

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. "Right!"

"And once you've gotten rid of your real scent you've got to make sure you smell appealing. And that means making sure you smell the most! Cover up any competing suitors' scents with your own!"

Mabel made an uncertain hum. "Okaaay, sooo... what would you call an appropriate fragrance for a first date?"

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of the hum. "First date? You've got to make a strong impression, and set the mood for romance," he told the doll, so he didn't have to watch Mabel pass judgment. "So, I'm thinking... decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris."

Mabel was silent for an uncomfortably long time. Bill glanced at her. She immediately pulled her sweater up to hide her mouth. Voice strained with suppressed laughter, she said, "You don't think, maybe... floral scents...?"

Who did she think she was laughing at! He directed his attention back to Mabel's doll. The tiger didn't judge him. The tiger thought all his ideas were brilliant. "Is this guy looking for a garden or a girlfriend? I know ninety percent of the soaps and shampoos on the market are designed to make you smell like a fruit salad on the beach, but you humans don't know the first thing about what activates your own monkey-brained reproductive urges! Trust me: decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris! They reek of raw sex appeal!"

"What's ambergris?"

"It's a staple fragrance in the perfume industry! Some of the most popular scents in Hollywood have ambergris base notes!"

"Okay," Mabel said, "but what is it?"

"Okay so," Bill said, "when a sperm whale gets so constipated it kills 'em, the rest of its body rots off while the turd floats to the surface, and after it's bobbed around baking in the sun for a few decades—"

Mabel lay a hand on Bill's knee and gently said, "No." 

"Hey, I'm not the one who invented ambergris, that's your species's idea!"

"Bill, I'm sorry. But you've got the best and worst romance ideas with no in between, and you don't know the difference," Mabel said. "But I promise you're in good hands! I'm the best matchmaker in Gravity Falls! I helped hook up Soos and Melody, Robbie and Tambry, Waddles and Gompers, the Hand Witch and that hunky hiker guy..."

He threw Mabel's doll down on the bed, slumped back against the wall, crossed his arms, and sulked. Then he muttered, "But I've got the best ideas?"

"Oh yeah. You're like an untrained romance prodigy! You just need a liiittle help filtering out the diamonds from the coal."

He grunted. Then he grudgingly admitted, "Getting Waddles and Gompers together is pretty impressive. They have complete opposite political opinions."

"See? I'll have you date ready in no time!"

Bill heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But I'd better at least get a killer makeover out of this."

"Definitely! I'm getting an expert on the case!" She pulled out her phone to send a text. Plus, whatever you're wearing tomorrow? I'm bedazzling the crap out of it."

"Good!"

"But first," Mabel said, "Let's talk about your technique."

####

"Lesson one of Mabel's Guide to Flirting With Humans: pick-up lines! First impressions are super important!"

"Pick-up lines are easy," Bill said. "I know a million of them!"

"That's great! Then this should be easy." Mabel pointed at the picture of Creggy G in the middle of her Sev'ral Timez poster, whom she'd designated as their attractive human for Bill's flirting practice. "Try one out." 

Bill sized up Creggy calculatingly, and said, "You know, your eyeballs are so beautiful."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "It's romantic! I love it!"

"—and they'd look even better in my mouth."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"What?" Bill asked. "Too forward? Should I save that for the second date?"

The flirting lesson quickly switched track from teaching Bill how to use a pick-up lines, to teaching Bill what pick-up lines not to use.

And from there, the conversation drifted to a list of subjects Bill wasn't allowed to discuss with the federal agent, which necessitated relocating to the living room so Mabel could set up an easel pad and record all the banned topics. Partway through, Stan drifted in and started throwing in his two cents.

The list of banned flirtation topics included: eyeballs; cannibalism; squid kings; dragonfly mating habits; mandibles; the time and method of living people's future deaths; the cold and lonely heat death of the universe ("Why?! It's a perfect excuse to suggest cuddling for warmth!"); fun get-to-know-you questions like "would you rather kill your mother or your father" or "which conspiracy theories would you most hate to be true"; which conspiracy theories were true; the agent's embarrassing middle school secrets that Bill shouldn't have known about but did; the agent's bald spot; cancer flavors; pending global disasters...

Bill flung his hands in the air. "So what does that leave to talk about?!"

"Anything else," Stan snapped.

"The Chuquicamata open pit copper mine."

"Anything normal."

Bill gave him a look akin to that of a vegetarian who'd just been asked to discuss his favorite cuts of beef. "Have you metme?"

"Try topics that get him in the right mindset for romance," Mabel said. "Like, 'what do you want your future wife's favorite color to be?' Or 'you look like dad material!'"

Bill nodded slowly. "So we're aggressively leading him on. I can work with that. I've never been a fan of subtlety."

"And call him charming," Stan said. "Guys love hearing they're charming. Oh, and tell him his jokes are funny."

"What if he doesn't tell jokes."

"All guys tell jokes when they're flirting! If he's not telling jokes, you're doing something wrong."

"It's true," Mabel said. "Watch any high school romance!" Bill gave them both a dubious look.

Stan glanced up as Ford and Dipper walked by the doorway with Gompers. "Tell 'im, Ford."

"What?"

"All men tell jokes when we're flirting! It's probably in our DNA or something."

Dipper thought about that, and nodded. "I tell jokes when I'm flirting."

Mabel shouted, "You try to tell jokes when you're flirting! Heyooo!"

"Hey."

Ford grimaced. "Usually when I'm flirting, I forget every joke I've ever heard and start asking as many questions as I can think of."

Bill said, "That's because you only flirt with things you want to add to your bestiary!"

"The point still stands." 

Dipper had leaned into the room to read the banned topic list. "Why are conspiracy theories off-limits? He came to Gravity Falls in the first place because he was looking for a paranormal conspiracy."

"Dipper's right," Ford said, "he'd probably be interested in the topic."

Bill flung his hands in the air. "Thank you! That's what I was saying!"

Stan shook his head, "Too close to discussing politics. What if they believe in different conspiracies!"

"Plus, watch this," Mabel said. "Hey Bill, what do you think about Flat Earth theory."

Bill groaned. "I was drunk, those statements were taken out of context, and I can't be held responsible if some idiot with a boat misinterpreted me."

Mabel looked at Ford and Dipper.

Dipper grimaced. "Got it."

Ford nodded. "Conspiracy theories are off-limits."

"This is why you're all single," Bill said.

####

Stan said, "And if you're gonna lie about your job—"

"Which you always should," Bill cut in.

"Obviously! But make sure it's not something too easy to verify. Like, you can't claim to be the governor, what if your date actually voted and knows who the governor is?"

"That's a good point! Margaret was not impressed."

"You're telling me! My suit smelled like broccoli cheese soup for weeks!"

"You shoulda suggested she get the house salad."

"Yeah, I—" Stan cut off. "Wait. How do you know about Margaret? That was twenty years ago!"

Dipper and Ford were in the kitchen, looking for every ingredient they could find that might coax Gompers to release the flash drive the old-fashioned way and listening to the discussion in the living room. Gompers nibbled at a dish towel, oblivious to the fate awaiting him.

Mabel trotted in and patted him as she passed. "Hey, you! You're giving us major trouble, you rascal!"

He bleated at her.

Mabel pushed up to the open fridge next to Dipper, and when he stepped aside to make more room for her, she stepped into his personal space again and leaned into him with her shoulder. "Why are you in the way, bro, jeez!"

"You're in the way!" He leaned against her in turn. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be training Bill?"

"Grunkle Stan's taking the lead right now," Mabel said. "My talent is helping people find true love! But his talent is suckering someone into liking you for a day. So I think he's better suited to the task at hand."

"Oh, yeah." Dipper chuckled wryly. "His advice will get you a first date, but not a second date."

Ford muttered, "His technique hasn't changed since high school, I see."

Dipper found the bottle of prune juice he'd been looking for, pulled it out, and stepped back. Mabel yelped when her counterweight disappeared and stumbled sideways into the fridge door.

As Dipper emptied the juice into a mixing bowl, he said, "I'm not sure about this plan. Even with both you and Stan helping. I know Bill's good at tricking people, but... he's so annoying. And not in a lovable way."

"Don't undersell him!" Mabel said. She'd retrieved a pitcher of Mabel Juice and was dumping a full bottle of sprinkles into it—hardcore romance training required high stamina. "He has the potential to be a dreamboat!"

Ford muttered, "He's a manipulative, murderous monster." He was searching through all the cans they'd moved to the kitchen counter for beans.

"Those don't have to be mutually exclusive," Mabel insisted. "Serial killers get girlfriends. Sometimes after they're arrested!"

"I'mmm not seeing a dreamboat," Dipper said. "More like a shipwreck. I mean, when you were trying to come up with a list of romantic date foods, he suggested blood licked off your date's teeth."

"And he was right!" Mabel said. "Vampires, bro-bro!"

"Okay, but I don't think he was talking about teeth that were still attached to his date's skull!"

"He didn't say they weren't attached," said Mabel, with flagging conviction that suggested she hadn't considered that and was realizing Dipper was probably right.

"And five minutes ago you and Stan told him he should pretend to be a princess, and he told you he'd be great at that because he started an Internet dating service that matches up lonely widows with overseas con artists pretending to be deposed princes."

"Well," Mabel said sheepishly.

"And then he tried to talk you two into investing in a pyramid scheme to fund his dating service."

"But we didn't invest!" Mabel said.

"Only because you looked it up on your phone and discovered he'd made it up!"

"I mean, until then, it sounded romantic!" Mabel flung her hands out in a wide shrug. (Something about the gesture looked strange to Ford.) "Finding a second chance at love with a mysterious foreign criminal with a glamorous false identity? That'd be great if it was real!"

"Mabel, it's a scam," Dipper said exasperatedly.

"And do scam artists not deserve love, too?!" Mabel pounded a fist on the table emphatically. "What about Grunkle Stan! He deserves love! A rich overseas widow would be perfect for him!"

"That's not— The point is, Bill's not romantic!" Dipper said. "This plan isn't going to work!"

Ford set half a dozen bean cans next to Dipper's mixing bowl. "He doesn't need to be romantic," he said. "He only needs to be charismatic. And for all his flaws, he's certainly that." Planets will orbit stars and black holes just the same—and not even realize the difference. "He doesn't have to actually win Agent Powers's heart. He only has to keep his attention for a few hours. By the time Bill stops dazzling Powers long enough for him to see the red flags, we'll have the flash drive." He nodded toward Gompers. "If we get it before the agents return with a warrant, we might not even need Bill to distract him."

Dipper sighed. "Then let's hope Gompers likes prunes."

"Come on! Show a little faith!" Mabel said.

Ford muttered, "The last time I put my faith in Bill..." Dipper gestured emphatically at Ford in agreement.

"Not in Bill! In me! Mark my words, Grunkle Ford—I'll get this Cinderella ready to meet his Prince Charming if I have to summon every mouse in Gravity Falls to help sew his ballgown!"

"Please don't summon the wildlife again," Dipper groaned. "The last time you did that, huge spiders kept appearing in our room for a week."

Mabel's pocket vibrated; she pulled out her phone and gasped. She chugged down the rest of her juice in three sickly sweet gulps and bolted from the room. "Biiill! Your personal style consultant texted back!"

"My who?"

She dragged him out of the living room by the wrist. "Come on!"

Ford watched them run up the stairs, then started searching through their cereal boxes for the high fiber one. Tentatively, he asked, "Mabel doesn't actually think we're trying to get Bill and the agent together, does she?" The Prince Charming comment was concerning.

"I don't know," Dipper sighed. "A few days ago she started talking about trying to get Bill a love life? Maybe she sees this as a practice round."

"Really? Why, did he say he wants to date people?" If he wanted to get out of the shack to emotionally prey on the locals one-on-one without supervision...

"I don't think she's even told him yet. It's part of her project to... reintegrate him into society? She probably thinks the power of love can rehabilitate him." Dipper sighed. "She's setting herself up for disappointment. He's been conning people into thinking he's a good guy for billions of years, right? If being loved could fix him, he'd be an angel by now."

"Instead, he's just gotten better at pretending to be an angel," Ford said ruefully. "I'm inclined to agree with you." He found the cereal he'd been looking for and set it on the table by Dipper. "But then... we let him live, didn't we? Because we all hope we're wrong. I suppose that doesn't make us that different from Mabel."

Dipper shook his head emphatically. "Not me." He dumped one of the cans of beans into the prune juice a little harder than necessary. "I let him live for two reasons: because of Mabel, and because of that prophecy. And he doesn't have to change to fulfill some prophecy to save us—when it comes, he might just be trying to save his own stupid butt, too."

"I suppose so." Right—of course, even if he'd agreed to spare Bill, Dipper still didn't have any real hope for him beyond his usefulness.

Over the past month, Ford hadn't seen anything more sympathetic out of Bill than Dipper had. He wondered at himself for even being willing to consider Bill might change. When had Ford changed enough to consider it? Or was he just more susceptible to Bill's same old tricks?

"You don't remember the whole prophecy yet, do you?" Ford asked. "What if this is what it was about? Saving our family from the government because he's the only person the lead agent finds attractive enough to distract him?"

Dipper pulled a face. "I hope not," he said. "After everything he put us through? He owes us a fight to the death with an interdimensional eldritch god."

"Now that's a sight I'd pay to see."

####

MABEL: Heyyy Paz, can I ask for a small favor. I have a friend that needs a MAJOR MAKEOVER!! 😿 Like the FULL PRINCESS TRANSFORMATION treatment!! Can you help him?

PACIFICA: Can't, I'm suuuper busy today. I have the lunch shift AND grooming day at the ranch.

PACIFICA: Plus, why would I help some total rando? 😒

MABEL: Because it's my friend with the beautiful golden hair.

PACIFICA: asldkfggh

PACIFICA: OK fine come by the ranch after work

PACIFICA: and send me a picture of his skin next to a white paper so I can grab some foundations to try out.

####

Bill took a piece of paper and a marker, wrote "Make me beautiful!" and dotted the I and the exclamation point with hearts, flopped the least sunburned part of his arm next to the paper for Mabel to take a picture, and leaned away to keep his face out of it.

As Mabel snapped a couple pictures, she said, "Okay, before we visit Pacifica, I have to warn you. She can be a liiittle bit mean when it comes to fashion. So don't get mad at her, okay? It's how she shows she cares!"

"No it's not," Bill said.

"No, it's not," Mabel conceded. "But it doesn't mean she doesn't care. That's just... how she relates to other people! By insulting their fashion, style, and body. And family. And finances."

"Don't worry, star girl. I can take it."

"But I mean, she might be really, really, super mean about your looks," Mabel said. "And you cannot curse her or threaten to turn her bones into flutes or do anything Bill-ish like that. Promise me."

"Hey, bone flutes! That sounds like a fun arts and crafts project, right?"

"Bill!"

"Re-lax, it'll be fine," Bill said. "She's just your garden-variety pageant girl with an overly-critical mom who tried to relive her glory years through her daughter! I can handle a teenage ex-beauty queen. I'm an expert on those types."

Skeptically, Mabel said, "Really?" She was slowly coming to realize that, in Bill's opinion, he was the expert on everything.

"Oh yeah. I spent years eyelid deep in the pageant scene."

"You did?" she said, surprised. "How come? Did you try to trick a beauty pageant into building your portal or something like that?"

Bill stared at Mabel.

####

Outside the flat hospital, it was a beautiful, peaceful morning. The air was clear, the unseen sun was shining brightly from some unknown dimension, and some 2D equivalent to a bird was chirping in some 2D equivalent to a tree.

And then the hospital doors crashed open with such force that passing shapes momentarily suspected that someone had set off a bomb.

"—don't give me that look, if you'd hustled your hypotenuse and had your birthday yesterday, we wouldn't be in such a rush! You're just lucky you came out so cute, or—" An exhausted, dull pinkish triangle charged out the doors with a very tiny, squishy yellow triangle in her trembling arm. She turned to shout behind her—"Hurry up! There's only two hours until the Best Baby Pageant and he is not going to miss it!"

—and was followed closely by a horrified blue triangle carrying a hat in one hand and a cane in the other. "But Scalene, the doctors still have to do those tests to check for—"

"They can test him later! If he's got some horrible birth defect, he'll still have it after he's won a trophy!" Without slowing, Scalene turned and held the baby out toward the other triangle. The squishy new shape gawked at him in mild befuddlement. "Look at this kid, Euclid! Most newborn brats look like cranky raisins, but he's less than an hour old and he's already bright-eyed and smooth-sided! He was born with the face of a pageant winner—"

Not looking where she was going, she ran into a tree. The bird flew off in a panic, Scalene lost her balance, and she nearly dropped the baby. Euclid caught him, caught her, and held her steady while she leaned dizzily against the tree. "Lene. You should be on bedrest right now. Maybe we should just, you know, take a moment to process..."

"Process what! We have our little angle. Am I supposed to sit in a hospital bed staring at the afterbirth?!"

While Euclid stared at her in shock, she snatched the child back, pushed him away, and wobbled back upright. "What kind of a lazy mother would I be if I was sleeping instead of making my child a winner! You want him to start off life on the right foot, don't you?"

Defeated, Euclid said, "All right. I'll take care of the... the paperwork. At least bring your cane."

"I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?! You just..." He gestured at her, gestured at the brand-spanking-new baby, gestured at her again, then flung his hands up in defeat. "If you drop our baby, I'm divorcing you."

She sighed huffily. "You're so dramatic." But she snatched the cane out of his hand anyway and stormed away, declaring loudly enough that shapes on the other side of the street turned to stare: "If the mayor doesn't declare my Billy the greatest baby in the whole godforsaken world, I'm grabbing the biggest trophy in the room and bashing his eye in!"

####

Bill shrugged at Mabel. "Sure," he said. "Something like that."

####

Gompers stared down at the bowl set on the floor in front of him.

It contained black beans, broccoli, coffee grounds, fiber-enriched whole-grain cereal, oatmeal, and an avocado and half a sweet potato mashed together into an orange-green mush, all stewing in a prune juice soup.

Gompers looked up.

Dipper and Ford were crouched across from him, watching expectantly. 

Gompers bleated balefully at them.

"Go on!" Ford nudged the bowl closer. "It's good for you."

Gompers knew a lie when he heard one. He turned his nose up at the mix.

"I don't get it," Dipper said. "He eats everything. What's wrong with this stuff?"

"I haven't a clue."

"Maybe it's the broccoli?" 

Ford gave him a quizzical look. "Why broccoli?"

Dipper shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, I don't know why he would."

"Hmm." Mystified, Ford propped his chin in his hand and stared into Gompers's eyes. Gompers stared back. Gompers stared into his soul. Gompers didn't blink.

Ford was dragged from this session of nonconsensual soul-searching by the sound of footsteps and Mabel's voice drifting down the stairs: "Listen, you know I love your sense of fashion! All I'm saying is everyone loves kittens, but snakes? That's a pretty niche fashion market! You're not gonna get a lot of takers."

"No, hey, hear me out," Bill said. "I listened to your professional matchmaker advice, now you've got to listen to my professional heartbreaker advice. You'll thank me for this one day! This is my number one romance tip: if you wanna impress a date, strap cobras to your arms and call yourself 'Johnny Cobra-Arms.' It works every time. Guaranteed."

(Dipper snorted.)

"Whaaat? No way," Mabel said. "Seriously, what?"

"It's true! I workshopped this! I've experimented across parallel timelines! It works."

"Quit messing with me, Bill."

"You think I would ever mislead you? No. Picture this." As the pair turned the corner on the stairs, Bill was spreading his hands in front of himself as though gesturing to the scene he wanted Mabel to imagine. "You see a guy, maybe a year older than you, kinda cute but nothing to write home about, maybe a 6/10. Got him in your mind's eye?"

A look of intense concentration crossed Mabel's face as she engaged her Imagination. "Yeah?"

"Okay, now imagine he—" Bill reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. "Where are my shoes." He raised his voice, "Who moved my fisshoes! I left them right— oh, there they are." He disappeared into the living room. "Imagine your 6/10 has two big snakes wrapped around his arms. And he catches your eye from across the club, comes up to you, and says..." Bill's voice dropped to a pitch that was nearly in the range of an average adult human male, "'Hey. Name's Johnny Cobra-Arms. What's yours?'"

Mabel thought about it. Her eyes slowly widened in amazement. "Oh my god, it would totally work on me."

Bill re-emerged into the entryway, fish shoes donned. "See?" 

"It made him hot! What the heck, how did that happen!"

"See?! It works every time!" He shouted toward the kitchen, "Hey, we're leaving for Alpaca's! I'm taking the car!"

"No you're not," Ford said.

Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Worth a shot!" He grabbed his umbrella and the magic friendship bracelets from the coat rack and waited for Mabel to open the door. "See, it's the best possible first impression. It shows he's got a sense of humor, he's quirky, he's a little bit dangerous, he's got a great sense of fashion, he's a world traveler, he's good with animals..." The door swung shut behind them. 

The way Bill had shrugged stuck in Ford's mind. 

In his true form, Bill didn't have shoulders. His arms extended out of his sides like the trunks of saplings extending from the surface of flood waters, and they glided around his perimeter in a way that defied conventional physical biology. No joints. 

When he shrugged in his human body, sometimes he'd bob his shoulders up and down in a deliberate mimicry of how humans performed the gesture; and lately, as Bill got used to moving his new body, Ford had seen him sluggishly raise a shoulder when he was too exhausted to gesture more expressively. But most of the time, he shrugged like he still didn't have shoulders. He'd spread his arms, bend his elbows, usually forming a W shape but sometimes when he was particularly emphatic forming a shape like football goalposts, and if he really wanted to make his meaning clear he'd twitch his upturned palms up the way a human would twitch their shoulders.

He did it all the time. He'd done it just now. The gesture was so natural on Bill that Ford had never realized how unnaturalit was on a human—until he'd seen Mabel make the exact same gesture earlier.

She was copying Bill's body language. He wondered if she knew.

He'd have to keep an eye on that.

"Hope Agent Powers is into snakes," Dipper muttered.

Ford laughed—then wondered whether someone pulling the Johnny Cobra-Arms trick would've worked on him. If by now nothing had made him take an interest in a basic, garden-variety human being, he doubted anything could... but, admittedly, he'd at least consider hanging out with Johnny. He sounded like an intriguing character. "If that's the worst thing Bill subjects him to, he'll be getting off light."

With a twinge of guilt, Ford realized just how true that was. Ford was no stranger to having to turn down the volume on his conscience for the greater good—and there were few greater goods than protecting his family—but...

He might not know Powers, but he did know that, whether Bill succeeded in seducing him or not, the man didn't deserve what he was about to be subjected to.

####

(Now that this chapter's finally out, may there be no further delays for a good long while, ugh.

Here's your "what was changed in the wake of TBOB" update: obviously, since we got five whole pages on Bill's beliefs about romance, a lot of that got incorporated into this chapter—the first and last scenes were basically written entirely in response to TBOB.

The scene with Scalene & Euclid, obviously, got their names & descriptions from TBOB & TINAWDC (and yeah, yeah, i'm eventually gonna go back to earlier chapters and edit out Bill's mom being a line so it matches up with canon), and it's obvious what the "best baby pageant" is a reference to (so you can guess whether Bill won)—but Bill being a pageant kid due to his mom was already part of the plans long before TBOB, so I just stuck a couple canon details into the story I was already writing. We were already gonna get into Bill's childhood this chapter & next (as you'll see next week).

Beyond that, most of the chapter was already in its present form before TBOB—up to & including Bill having a list of topics he thinks are acceptable for dates that no rational human would agree with—and all TBOB added was a couple tiny details (like... "mandibles".)

The fact that the list of things that were influenced by TBOB is so much longer than usual is part of the reason this chapter's two whole weeks late lmao.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed, happy new year, and I'm looking forward to (finally) hearing your thoughts on the first fresh chapter of 2025!

[shayjonahjameson]

A touch of healing

You got thrown out of bounds by Storm's tornado and are trying to get to your team to heal them. except Lin and Adam from the enemy team have better plans for you.

warnings: manipulation sort of, abrupt ending but otherwise nothing.

You rolled your shoulder in pain. Sporting a limp in your walk, and a swollen ankle from your teammate Storm's carelessness. Safe to say you were upset. likely because you were you didn't notice the two men sneakily walking behind you. they stalked closer, and closer until one of them swooped in front of you. Hovering just a few feet away. Out of shock you backed into the other assailant, and were greeted with a white eyed mask staring down at you. "No!" You squealed and squeezed through the small space between them.

A healers nightmare. Iron Fist.. You were lucky he wasn't with with Parker. Or else this might've gone differently. Instead Adam was there to mediate his brutality. So you figured you could try to reason with them. "Please, don't hurt me" A pleading edge to your voice.

Lin crossed his arms. The eyeholes of his mask widened in surprise. "We saw you get wiped out by your own team and felt bad." Adam finally dropped to the ground. Shoulder to shoulder with Lin and he nodded. "It's so barbaric how they treat you. Five duelists? They couldn't have sent a tank with you?" Lin frowned. "Or another healer?"

You couldn't deny your conditions weren't the best but what did that matter to them? You stayed quiet. Wondering how you'd get out of this situation. Lin cocked his head to the side. And placed a hand on his chest. He dramatically scoffed. "Just know, I'd never hurt you! Not when you're already being treated so cruelly. C'mon, we just wanted to ask if you needed some help."

Adam nodded and waved at you, a golden energy lit up his fingers as they wiggled at you. As if he was taunting you with his healing magic. "I could help you.." He said softly. His voice was so tender, and emotional. As if you were lovers and he was trying to soothe you. Lin slipped away from Adam to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You flinched, and cautiously squirmed, but once you felt his warmth you stopped. "I'd protect you. Unlike Iron Man or that stupid witch." Were they seducing you to their side? Or trying to keep you from healing your team? Either way they had you occupied. You'd never gotten this much attention before, especially not such love and affection.

"That sounds very nice but I couldn't betray my team." You reasoned. Trying to convince yourself more than them. your knees buckled and Lin's arm carefully swooped around you in an instance. Within seconds he had you bridle style. Adam hovered off the ground and he drifted around you and Lin.

"The team that couldn't be bothered to protect you? Or send someone to help you heal them?" He said. Lin chimed in too. "Not even someone big and strong enough to handle our Hulk and Venom."

"If I did, who's to say I wouldn't betray you too? How could you trust me if I left them on your call?" You asked. Then noticed Adam shaking his head.

"You're too kind. That's why even though they mistreat them, you always take it. You could be taking something else.. Should be." Lin mumbled that last part. A blush dusting his cheekbones. You rolled your eyes at his clumsy attempt at flirting. Adam held out his hand. "Let me heal you. But just know if you do, there's no going back.."

[lesbojournals]

Three's A Crowd (Stucky x Reader)

Nobody at the Avengers compound knew about you, Steve, and Bucky. In fact, not even Bucky and Steve knew you were seeing them both. To be fair, you started your…situationship with them both on the terms that it wasn’t just them you were seeing, and that you weren’t ready to commit to a relationship yet.

It’s just that neither of them knew who was the other you were referring to. Or so you thought.

The night started like any other, you were in your sweats and a tank (your usual pajamas) in the kitchen making a bowl of ice cream for yourself. You added some whipped cream to your dessert and nearly jumped out of your sweatpants when a pair of hands met you from behind.

“How’s it going babygirl?” Bucky teased you, taking your spoon and eating some of your ice cream.

You jokingly scoffed, taking the spoon back. “Get your own ice cream, Buck.”

“What’s this I hear about ice cream?” Someone called, and that’s when the smile on your face was wiped clean off.

Steve entered the room, joyfully at first, until he made sight of Bucky’s hands around your waist. His eyes turned dark and he looked at Bucky, who just smirked back.

“So…” He started. “This is who you’ve been seeing.”

You pulled yourself out of Bucky’s arms. “I can explain-”

“No need.” Bucky interrupted. “We’ll be in my room.”

And with that note Bucky walked away from you and towards Steve, giving him a painstakingly long kiss before dragging him off and away from the kitchen.

The whole event shocked you so much you didn’t even notice you’d been making an “o” face, AND had dropped your spoon on the floor.

Your mind was swimming with questions, and without even thinking about your ice cream you left it behind, practically running to Bucky’s room.

“What’s going on?” You demanded as you entered, walking in on Steve and Bucky in a beautifully posed make out session.

Bucky had a small smile and Steve smirked at you.

“What do you mean, beautiful?” Steve asked.

You stammered as you came up with what to say next, the “guns blazing” technique not working to the best of its abilities. “Did you both know this whole time? Were you playing some weird twisted game on me? Are you two dating? Literally Steve, tell me, what’s going on?”

“Well,” Bucky spoke first, sitting up. He caused the blanket to shift down, making you just now realize they were both shirtless. “We kinda figured it out ourselves from the beginning–you weren't being very slick. Thought confronting you about it should come organically.”

Steve added to his comments. “Plus, we'd always been seeing each other. Hard to believe you hadn't noticed.”

“We thought you were just teasing us–” Bucky continued. “...turns out you're just a little lacking in observation.”

It was like a quick montage of moments between both Steve and Bucky flashed before your eyes. The wistful glances, the long touches, the soft smiles.

“Oh.” You were shocked by your own obliviousness. Had it really been that obvious? “I…I uh…I'm sorry.”

“What're you apologizing for beautiful?” Steve cocked his head to the side, almost daring you to look at the hickeys Bucky had clearly left behind.

You looked down at the ground, blush rising to your ears. “I shouldn't have been messing with you guys if you're a couple. I should've realized sooner.”

“Don't be stupid.” Bucky quipped. “You think either of us would have gotten with you if we didn't want to?”

“I…I don't understand.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “We want you to join us. Be with us. Romantically.”

Steve rushed to add more. “You don't have to say yes if you don't want to. Don't feel pressured. But just know that the option is out there.”

You took a deep breath. “Yea I…I think I'd like that.”

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

I had this cooking for a bit, based on another one I posted, and decided to break it into parts.

Stan Pines x Reader

Part 1/?

NSFW/MINORS DNI/18+

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

"Wow, dude, I've been Employee of the Month since I started here! You broke my streak!" Soos said gleefully. He was holding a camera from your boss, Mr Pines, brought out to celebrate the occasion. "Stan said to get your good side....Wait, do you have a bad side?"

You rubbed your fingers on your temple. Soos was honestly a very nice guy, but holy hell, not the sharpest tool in the shed. Breaking his streak didn't take much...So much, you don't even know how you earned it. You goofed off most of the time, dozed off at the counter, and sometimes forgot to flip the sign to "Open".

"Okay, I'm just going to ignore that...Can you just take the picture? I'd like to go on my lunch break," you said, feeling grouchy and hungry. You had a huge deli sub and an ice cold Pitt Cola waiting in the refrigerator, and you could almost taste both.

Click! Click! Click!

The camera went off at least a dozen times, and Soos was proud of himself, but you were pretty sure every single one was half assed looking. Oh well, that's Mr. Pines' problem, not yours.

You walked down to the makeshift break room that was actually Mr. Pines' kitchen. It was tiny, but cozy, if you could get past the smell of old guy, even older cigar smoke, and coffee. He was actually at the table with the paper in front of him, and just his fez poking out from the top. You opened the fridge, and immediately wanted to cry.

"Mr. Pines, my lunch is gone," you said in a short manner. "Have you seen it?"

He coughed, and shuffled the paper over to look at you. He had taken off his jacket and dress shirt, and pulled out his poker face, grinning at you. Seeing him in his tank top, with his thick, aged arms and chest hair peeking out made you blush a little until your stomach growled.

"Damn, I thought it was up for grabs," and he pulled your bag out from behind the paper, turning enough that he had his legs spread in his suit pants. Your eyes shifted from your bag with the sub, to the salami bulging in his lap. "Ya gonna take it or not?"

You snatched it up, and he chuckled, with deep smile lines and crow's feet sneaking out and showing his age. "Eat your lunch, Red. You're gettin' a little feisty, and need to calm down."

"Don't even start with me, Mr. Pines," you snapped. "This heat and forgetting to eat breakfast is already bad enough. I feel lightheaded as shit."

Mr. Pines eyebrow went up slightly. "Y'know, if ya didn't do your job so well, I'd fire ya....But no one else in town would take ya!" And he started howling. "I need to go freshen up for the next bunch of suckers comin'....Look alive, Red."

He walked out, and you flipped him the bird. What a dick...Ooooo, his di-. You shook your head, trying to shake the intrusive thought of him sitting there out of your head. He had to be at least a decade or so older than you...Why would he bother with a woman pushing 40?

Why am I even thinking this shit?

You shook your head again and ate, mentally preparing yourself for the latter half of the day, which went way faster, even in the brutal heat. Five o clock came, and you flip the sign to Closed, wiping the dripping sweat off your face. Mr. Pines came through the door, fully suited(in this heat!?), counting cash with his cane tucked under his arm, and his eye patch on.

"Dumb sons uh bitches...They eat this shit up! Ha!" he cackled, peering over at you melting at the counter. "Ya look like you're gonna melt over there, Red."

Why all old men feel compelled to call the red haired women Red was something that pissed you off to no end, but even you were too tired to fight much. "Aw, look at all that cash.. Maybe you could afford to get the air fixed finally."

"Don't start with me, punk," he said coolly. "I called earlier, and the local guy is booked for a month...And Soos, well, he's Soos."

Saying that actually made you crack up a little bit. Mr. Pines saw your grin, and....Blushed? You blinked, and he had pulled his cane out, propping your head up to him. "Mr. Pines, what are you doing?"

"Ya lifted your head up when I made that joke, then it looked like you were gonna faint," he said, his face at arms length, looking at you with dark brown eyes. "I don't need no damn injuries at work." He actually looked a little concerned, and furrowed his brow.

"Uh, listen Red...Here," and he handed you some cash from his stack. "I want ya to get a couple tank tops that ain't gonna make ya do that again. But bring a receipt for 'em. I ain't a charity." He cleared his throat, and began to walk away. "And start bringing water with ya...I ain't callin' an ambulance because ya can't remember to take care of yourself."

You looked at the wad, and realized he gave you at least $100, which is weird as hell. You couldn't typically pry anything like that from his cold, dead hands(he might even take it to the grave with him). "Thanks, Mr. P-," and you looked up, but he was already gone.

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

The wad of cash was in your hands from that moment at the Shack, until you got home and laid in bed. Whether it was the heat, or the ways Mr. Pines was getting to your brain, you couldn't sleep. Him toying with you during the days was getting to you, and not in a way you expected.

He could be a total asshole for no good reason, and make pot shots at you. Then, you'd see him outside doting on his great niece, and nudging her twin brother along with his advice. Hell, he even spoke to Soos and Wendy like they were his kids. Sneaking around, he didn't know you knew this side of him, but it seemed like he was trying to warm to you too.

But...

He didn't have to look so concerned and tilt that 8 ball under your chin like that. It was pulling something out of you that you hadn't even thought of for a few years, and with menopause on your horizon....Arousal.

Thinking of him taking that cane, and tilting your head up again gave you chills. But this time, it was him, like he was in the kitchen, looking down at you, with a devilish grin, and his raspy voice reminding you he's the boss.

"Alright Red....Get them panties and bra off, and listen good: Ya ain't helping with the Shack today. No, ya got a much more "hands on" duty today. So, get on your knees, be a good girl, and suck my cock until I say we're done."

In the heat of the night, you hadn't realized your hands were grasping your pussy and nipples back and forth, radiating carnal need for him. You closed your eyes in embarrassment, but kept masturbating, playing out the porno in your head until you exploded.

Completely soaked, both inside and out, you laid on the bed, and all you could think was

"Shit, I'm losing my mind." And then slid off into sleep, and further wet dreams with Mr. Mystery.

[lou-struck]

Figures in the Dark

Leviathan x reader

Flufftober Day 9: Figures in the Dark

W.C. 1.6k

~ you have no idea how Levi can sleep with all those figurines in his room. But you don't have the nerve to tell him that.

Normally, if you were to stay up late playing a horror game in the early hours of the morning, you would find yourself too anxious to sleep, but strangely, when you play in the cozy comfort of Levi's room, you find yourself growing drowsier by the minute. 

You yawn and lean against Levi's unbelievably comfortable shoulder for support. "Oh, are you getting tired, MC?" he asks, pausing midway through the game's intense chase scene like it's nothing.

"Just a bit," you yawn again, pulling your eyes from the bright screen. "I'm afraid I don't have your talent when it comes to staying up all night playing games."

"T-talent?" he stammers, turning fire engine red at the smallest bit of praise." Only you can find the beauty in a pitiful otaku like me MC, I don't even know how you come up with things like that."

His flustered rambling makes you chuckle as you use his shoulder for support and get to your feet. "I think you'll have to go on without me."

His fingers fidget, and you can tell he is conflicted. "Wait," he says suddenly, his body language resembling a kicked puppy, and you can tell he does not want to let you go so easily. "You wouldn't wanna sleep in here, would you?"

"Sure, I'd love to," you say sweetly, watching as the third-born's face lights up like he had just won the lottery. 

"Just give me a second," he says quickly, dashing across the room over to his bathtub bed, smoothes out the plush navy blue covers, and fluffs the many pillows. "There, I had to max out my bed's comfort stat so we can recover all of our HP."

With a giggle, you follow him across the room and flop onto the freshly prepped bed, "I see what you mean; it's very comfy." 

He tentatively sits on the edge of his bed and shyly fiddles with his hands. As if it's the first time you guys have ever had a sleepover." A-are you really okay with this? You don't just feel bad for me, do you?"

"Of course not," you say, reassuring the demon with a sweet kiss to his trembling lips, "you know how much I care about you, Levi."

"W-well, if you're sure, then that's good," he says with a relieved smile. He lays down next to you and claps his hands to turn off his limited edition Ruichan lamp. The room darkens save for the cold blue light illuminating Henry's bubbling fish tank. When you meet the demon's gaze, you see that his eyes are silently begging for your approval.

"Well, that was impressive," you say in a low whisper, meeting his amber gaze. 

"Would you maybe be okay if we were to cuddle a bit?" He asks shyly. "You know, like normies?"

illuminating from Henry's fish tank 

"I would love to," you say as the demon wraps his arms around your form, pulling you close. It doesn't take long for the soft sounds of his steady breathing to fill the room as your sleepy lids take in your surroundings. 

You never realized how many figures he has on display in his room. Sure, you know he loves to collect them, but it seems that everywhere you look, there is a different pair of plastic eyes fixated on you. 

You know they aren't real, but the stares are kinda creeping you out. Maybe it was the game, or maybe your time in the devildom ignoring other horrors is catching up to you, but you find it impossible to relax. 

You scoot closer to Levi's sleeping form, but it does little to ease your mind. Even when you flip around to hide your face in the demon's chest, you still feel the intensity of those inanimate stares on the back of your head. 

You sigh and cover your face with a pillow. 

It's going to be a long night.

~

"Wow, Mc, Hon., don't take this the wrong way, but are you feeling alright?" Asmodeus says, pulling you from your fuzzy daydreams. "You look a bit tired."

"Ugh, is it that obvious?" you ask, wiping your eyes. "I did not sleep well last night."

"So I take it your little sleepover with Levi didn't go well," the avatar of Lust winks. He may not be able to use his charm on you, but the demon's friendly nature has a way of coaxing little details from your lips.

"No, Levi wasn't the problem at all," you respond nervously, lowering your voice so no one can hear your conversation, "I just couldn't sleep in there last night. Not with all the eyes on us, watching us sleep."

"Ohhh, you mean the little figurines," Asmo says knowingly. "Yeah, I like attention as much as the next demon, but that can be a little much. I don't know how he does it."

"I don't either, and they are really not bad in the daytime," you say, thinking back to the shelves and shelves of limited edition merchandise that brings him joy in his room. You have no right to say anything to him; he doesn't tell you how to decorate your room. 

"And you know that if you say anything to him, it would just crush him," Asmo adds kindly. "We wouldn't want him to take it the wrong way."

Sometimes, you just have to deal with certain things, especially when love is on the table. You care about Levi far more than you care about his figurines. "I'll just deal with it." 

"That's all we can do, Hon," Asmo says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Now, let's go to a cafe and get you something to drink that will get you through the day."

"Good plan," you yawn, allowing him to whisk you away from the stone hallways of RAD, not noticing the purple head of hair disappearing behind a stone pillar.

~

One week later, you find yourself once again in Levi's in the wee hours of the morning. Having gotten lost in a game, you feel the telltale signs of fatigue encroaching on you, and you know that soon, you will have to call it quits. 

The eyes of the figurines are on you again, but they look far less intimidating in the light. You feel a yawn coming on, and you try to fight it. You once heard somewhere that staring directly at a bright light can help get rid of it. 

Or was it the other way around.

Well, based on the extremely loud yawn that slips past your lips, you guess it's the other one. 

"Are you tired again?" Levi asks hesitantly, already pausing the game. "I can walk you down to your room."

Your heart sinks, and you realize that he knows. Embarrassment and shame heats your cheeks, and you give him a soft smile. "Actually, I was wondering if I could stay in here tonight."

"Do you really want to?" 

You take his hand, "I do,"

"Even with all the figurines looking at you?" he gulps nervously and scans the room; for the first time in hundreds of years, he wishes he could make them disappear just for a moment. "I-it not like I was eavesdropping or anything like that; I just happened on you guys talking about it and~"

"I'm sorry," you say. "I should've told you earlier; I just didn't want to make you feel ashamed about being who you are because you are wonderful."

"I know why you didn't," he frowns, his eyes turning glassy with unfallen tears. "But do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. So would it be okay if I stay with you tonight?" you ask softly, giving him a slight smile. "You know, cuddle like normies?"

He nods eagerly. "I didn't want to push you, but I did order something on Amazon in case you ever wanted to stay the night with a creepy shut-in like me.

"What did you do?" you ask surprisedly. 

Turning off his monitor, he boldly takes your hand and leads you proudly to his bed, where a black remote rests atop the blankets. Pressing the center button, a dark curtain descends from the ceiling and encircles the area around his bed. Completely obstructing the view of the figurine collection.

"Do you think that will work?" he asks shyly, admiring his handiwork.

"Levi, when did you do this," you ask, your heart feeling full at such a thoughtful gesture.

Last week." he admits, "I know I was jumping the gun, b-but I wanted you to know that I care about you, and I want you to be just as comfortable with me in my room as you are with Belpie and Asmodeus."

"This is amazing; thank you for going out of your way to do something like this for me."

"I would do anything for you MC, even if I'm not as bold as the others IRL," he says seriously. "Just name it, and I'll do it."

You laugh but know that he is deadly serious. 

Sometimes, you underestimate the power you have at your disposal.

"Well then, I guess I have one thing in mind?" you say, flopping down on the bed with a sigh. "Can we test it out tonight?"

He nods instantly and joins you on the bed. Needless to say, you slept like a baby all night long.

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[noisyquokka]

By A Thread...

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - When life leaves you hanging off the end of your rope, fighting on your own is a struggle. You thank the universe for giving you that one person who can always make those struggles a little more bearable.

WORDCOUNT - 3.5k

WARNINGS - TRIGGER WARNING *** Talks/thoughts of suicide, description of panic attacks, anxiety, reader's mental health has tanked (Please don't read if you aren't comfortable with these)*** angst, comfort, emotional support, childhood friends || Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N - I started this writing piece to help me get through a really tough mental health episode. While I didn't finish it during that time, something brought me back to it recently and it's a bittersweet feeling to have completed it. After thinking about things for a bit, I've decided that I'd post this for anyone else who may be going through those difficult thoughts, or who has in the past. Chan's Room has always been a safe space for me, and I know a lot of us resonate with that.

Knowing this is a heavy fic, I feel it appropriate to leave a link to suicide hotlines. This site has international hotlines for those of you outside of the U.S. as well as other useful info. I know this planet is a questionable place to be existing on at the moment, but the human experience isn't complete without some struggles. We can all get through it, whatever it is we're struggling with. I'm proud of you! 💛

You shut the door to the apartment, slugging your shoes off at the entrance. The stresses of the day weigh heavily on your shoulders, tense and aching as you trudge through the hallway toward your bedroom.

"You're home early." Chan's bubbly voice resonates through the apartment; a welcoming sound. If you would've acknowledged it, that is. Brown eyes shift from the blue-light of the laptop at the lack of a response, catching the ghost of your body whiz through the kitchen from his spot on the sofa. Your footfalls reverberate against the floorboards. It was the door slamming shut, rattling the walls, the electrifying static that had purged into the space. That's when Chan knew that something wasn't right.

You sag against the woodgrain of the door, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of self-consoling as you slowly slide floorward on shaky legs. Breaths come in shallow puffs of air, your lungs constricting like a mouse in the death grip of a python. Everything that had happened today had finally tripped the tidal wave of negative thoughts you had been pushing down for... God knows how long now. You can't remember. All you know is you want it to end before these thoughts drag you too deep into the rabbit hole to where you can't crawl back out on your own.

Trembling fingers wipe the tears from your cheeks, although it seems futile when fresh ones retrace their tracks down your skin. You focus in on your breathing with a shaky breath and furrowed brows. A deep breath in. Hold.

5...4...3...2...1...

A deep breath out.

A soft rapping on the door startles you, shoulders jerking violently. You know who it is before he even speaks your name, voice muffled beyond the barrier of the door, soft and laced with concern.

"Hey, you alright?"

The crease between your brows deepen as your ears pop, drums a void of rumbles and vibrations as if someone stuffed them full of cotton. Teary, bloodshot eyes tilt toward the ceiling.

"Yeah," You wince at the warble in your voice, clearing your throat before trying again. "Yeah! I'm fine, Chan." When no response comes from beyond the door, you know. You know that he knows you are far from fine.

Chan's shadow crawls up the hallway of the shared apartment as he shoulders his weight against the doorframe to your room. He could count the amount of times you two have found yourselves in this very predicament on his fingers three times over. Most nights he'd ask if he could come in and you would both talk about what was bothering you.

Tonight wasn't most nights, though.

Chan shifts himself so his back is against the doorframe, sliding down the woodgrain until he's settled on the wood floor, legs crossed beneath him. He bites the flesh of his cheek at the sound of your sniffles, his heart aching in his chest.

"You wanna talk?" He asks, and you feel your composure cracking at his tone. So courteous and careful, like always. You nod your head, tongue darting out to lick chapped lips and salty tears.

"Sure."

"Alright, let's see..." Chan trails off, taking a deep breath as he racks his brain for a topic. Something to take your mind off your troubles. His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as he turns his head toward the door. "What's your favourite flower?"

"What?" You scoff, wiping the tears from your cheeks. He begins to repeat himself, and you cut him off.

"You already know the answer to that, Chan."

"Sunflowers." He says, resting an elbow against one knee. "We were what... nine and twelve when you became obsessed with them because Ms. Keller had planted some in her yard down the street." 

Chan's smiling. You can hear it in his voice. 

"When your dad bought some sunflower seeds from the store, you stole some from the bag and I helped you dig a hole in the backyard so you could plant them. You watered them for months until the weather got too cold. They never grew because they were roasted sunflower seeds." He's rattling on as if he's experiencing the memory all over again behind those brown eyes of his.

Your laugh is broken and groggy - a candle's light in the dark, casting away shadows that had built up in the corners of the apartment - but it's the reason that Chan's heart skips when it flows beneath the door.

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," You reply, sniffling behind long sleeves. "I thought if my parents found out we planted them that they'd be mad."

The image of you and Chan sneaking around the yard in search of a shovel and a watering can is a core memory, the spring sunshine kissing your skin. The smell of freshly turned dirt and a handful of salty sunflower seeds is as vivid in your mind as the man beyond the door.

"But the next spring, Ms. Keller came over and helped us plant some sunflowers in your yard because your dad seen us trying to plant his roasted seeds in the far corner of the garden."

You chuckle as Chan recalls the memory, eyes downcast to the floor. Everything was so carefree and enjoyable as a kid, and now it feels like work to find just a fraction of enjoyment in your life. Too much anxiety over whether or not you're on the right path, nevermind worrying that you're going about living life the wrong way. As if there's some manual to go by. Your chest tightens and you hold your breath, wet lashes fluttering.

Everything is quiet for a moment, save for the wall clock ticking softly.

"I understand why you always loved them." Chan says, and for a moment it sounds like words he didn't mean to verbalize. You know him better than that. "They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

You swallow down the ball of nerves, but that does nothing to quell your active tear ducts. Chan tilts his head toward the door at the sounds of your untamed whimpers, brows furrowing.

"Can I come in?" His voice is sheer lace, delicate as he reaches out to you. And you are well beyond your breaking point, rubbing at your wet, matted lashes. He listens carefully for the sounds of shuffling beyond the door, or even your verbal consent.

The lock on the door lets off a subtle click as you wrap shaky fingers around the knob and twist. He's off the floor before you can swing the door open, meeting your gaze with ember eyes that shine like the hearth of a home.

There you are.

The one constant in Chan's life since the first grade. You, standing in front of him in your crumbling state, trying desperately to hold yourself together like a tattered flag in a storm; a whole piece of fabric battered and torn by gale force winds, frayed edges violently tearing away until single threads are all that's left.

And there he is. Your life raft saving you from drowning in the choppy waters of your mind. Chan stands with open arms, awaiting the inevitable weight of your head against his chest. Your skeleton rattles against wound muscle and vermilion-coated veins when you take a step forward. As the weight of your world comes crashing down upon his shoulder, he holds you with the utmost care, strong arms encircling you as if afraid that you would break under the pressure. The warmth of his body only eggs on the tears, breaking your composure further as you collapse into him. Sobs wrack your body, muffled in his shoulder. Shaky fingers grasp for something to hold onto.

"It's alright," Chan murmurs, digging his nose into your scalp. You feel him press kisses into your scalp, breathing you in as your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. Fingers splay against your back, soothing shapes and gentle motions running the expanse of your spine, rocking the two of you back and forth. His warmth cradles you, soothes your pain. You never feel shame in these arms. Only the strongest, surest form of love and support that you could ever find in someone. Chan's heart drums against his chest. "You can let it out, it's just me."

You don't know what Gods had decided that you were worthy of such a soul, but right now the only way you think you can thank them is through your violent sobs. Grief and gratitude blend together. You needed this comfort desperately, and it shows in your inconsolable tears. In how quiet you are, unable to verbalize much of your inner monologue when it's thrashing around the confines of your psyche like a hurricane. If a Category five was the worst, you were sitting at a nonexistent Category seven. Chan's words echo in your mind.

"They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

There's no point in trying to compose yourself. The floodgates have opened. You feel yourself overheating and yet you crave the comfort that Chan is offering, whispering words of encouragement as you press your face into his shoulder. Soothing each scar that litters the muscle in your chest that beats like hummingbird wings.

"Am I a bad person for wanting to die?"

Your brain is so overwhelmed that your mouth opens without a second thought. You hope your words fall on deaf ears, what with how most of them were interrupted by broken hiccups and a pounding head. But when Chan's body goes rigid under your touch, you know he's heard you. His grip tightens, your name whispered against your hair as his voice catches in his throat. If he felt something was off when you walked in the door earlier, it was painfully obvious now. You were lost. Utterly lost and alone, sending out an S.O.S in the labyrinth of your miserable mind. He's talked you down from the brink of destruction many times through the years. To say he was heaven-sent would be a severe understatement. But this was different to the others. Hearing those words come from anyone was enough to bowl him over. Hearing them come from your mouth, though? He's never heard you speak this way in all his years of knowing you. He wanted to know what had been the origin of your tears, but this was not where he expected the conversation to go.

Your breath catches as you sense how much your words affected him. Chan's silence weighed heavily in the air, your words sinking into the hard wood floors until they were weighted with lead. You pull away from him, gaze downcast as you wipe away the tears on your face. A flood of guilt crashes over you, throat constricting like a zip tie closing around your esophagus.

Put the mask back on. Rebuild your walls. You've fucked up now.

"I-I'm fine. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." You turn your head, unable to bring yourself to look at your best friend since childhood as more tears fall from doused lashes. Your chest tremors for putting that burden on him, something you hadn't meant to say in the first place. You've never said those words out loud before. You never wanted people to worry. Never wanted to be a problem for them. But here you stand, bearing intrusive thoughts to your best friend. It was like throwing a pile of bricks at him and expecting him to bear all that weight with no trouble.

"You're not. Look at me, listen to me." He says, taking your shaking shoulders with a gentle yet firm grip to turn you towards him again. Calloused fingers brush against your jaw, tipping your chin up to meet your glassy eyes. Brown optics flicker across your face, moving from feature to feature with the deepest concern. There's an emptiness in your eyes that twists Chan's heart, the ache so miserable that tearing the muscle from behind the wall of marrow would be more bearable than leaving it be. Chan's tone is adamant, steady despite the weight of the words you've just entrusted to him. "No, you're not."

New tears retrace the old tracks down exhausted epidermis, eyebrows sliding in as you feel Chan press another kiss to your scalp, lingering a moment longer than before. Chan's response only causes you more anxiety, unsure what exactly he's referring to. Not fine or not a bad person for having such heavy thoughts? He must pick up on it, quick to speak up again.

"You're not a bad person at all, and I think you know that. You're just struggling right now, and that's okay."

You sniffle and shake your head, fighting against a tidal wave of hysterics.

"But, what if I..." You swallow, your mind so jumbled you're unable to spit out the words in their original form. "What if I can't get through this?"

"Oh, love..." Chan murmurs, his voice tremulous. It takes everything in him to reign in his own tears. The very thought of you giving in to those intrusive thoughts is like driving a dagger through his heart. His hands leave your face and wrap around you again, his strong hold tightening until you're lifted off the ground, cradled in his arms as he walks toward your bed. You are so tired, physically and mentally overwhelmed by his compassion and the gentle way in which he carries you. You fold into him like a tired newborn. Being tucked into secure arms as he lays you in bed feels like something more intimate than anything you've ever known. Chan is quick and careful when he settles in beside you.

"You don't need to say a word," He whispers, brushing stray hairs from your face and wiping your tears. "just listen to me."

You nod, a broken whimper escaping your throat as he pulls you into his arms. Chan rubs your back soothingly, letting you cry like a child, and he holds you like letting you go would be a criminal offense.

"You don't have to tell me what brought you to this point, I don't need to know if you don't want me to." He starts, his voice rumbling through his chest as he speaks. It offers you some modicum of comfort as you rest one of your arms over his torso. He lets out a heavy breath, eyes cast to the ceiling. "You aren't a bad person for having those thoughts. They don't define who you are, or where you're going. The fact that you're telling me this says a lot, that you've been holding this in for God knows how long."

"I'm just- it's so exhausting to keep living." You mumble, wiping at your runny nose. You press yourself further into Chan's side, feeling his arms tighten around you with every shift you make. His gaze falls to you when you speak, taking in every word with sharp ears. "I've had those thoughts, myself, y'know." His voice is thick with unspoken secrets, a heavy breath hitting the crown of your head - shallow and sharp. You lay with your head against his chest, silent as he confesses to his own feelings of hopelessness.

You've never seen Chan lose the façade of the stable best friend. Even through the stresses of high school, he was the rock, a bastion of strength and resilience. But Chan knows. He knows what those thoughts are like, the struggle of falling asleep while trying to fend off cackling demons from the foot of the bed. The pain of trying so hard to fit the mold that society has crafted, that every single individual is expected to fit to a T.

Perhaps that's why he knows how to soothe you, how to take care of you and hold back his own tears. Even if he doesn't know how frayed and weathered your thread on this life is.

"I never told you about them. Never told anyone, really. I put all my feelings into songwriting, even if I never released half of them." Chan's body relaxes beneath you as the weight of his secrets leaves him. A half-hearted sigh. A lazy hand traces the curve of your back in a calming gesture, the rhythm of his fingers almost hypnotizing.

"You always believed in my impossible dreams... encouraged me to pursue them like it was your calling in life. You made me happy through all of my downfalls." You pick your head up at his words, resting your chin against his breast. Two pairs of eyes lock on one another. There's a ghost of a smile quirking Chan's lips after a moment, brown eyes glowing like the embers of a fire.

"You're one of the good ones." He pauses, bringing a hand up to swipe at the stray hairs in your face, running his fingers through the locks like he always does. "You're so much that this world doesn't deserve, but everything that is needed. Just like those sunflowers that summer. Little seeds that were waiting for their chance to shine, and you lit them up like little beacons of hope."

Even though fresh tears are streaming down your face, Chan beams at the soft laugh that you release. It's genuine this time, unbroken and featherlight. Childlike. These tears aren't ones of hopelessness and sleepless nights, but of gratitude and love for the person embracing you. The way Chan speaks to you, the way he's willing to offer up his strength and his heart without expecting anything of you in return is exactly what you need. In a world filled with harsh realities and high expectations and constant beat downs, he is the personification of empathy. His voice calms your anxious mind, even if his words don't completely wipe out the heavy storm. He tames it, eases the hurricane force winds and manifests a steady rain that could lull you to sleep.

"I'm not going to let you drown, alright. I know things seem rough right now, but you've accomplished so much and you're gonna do so much more." Chan's eyes burn into yours, unwavering in his conviction. You feel the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he wipes more tears away, the heat and passion in his expression shifting to tenderness as he speaks. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone in this."

His words are the affirmations you've told yourself for months, fighting your negative thoughts with positivity that only worked for so long. But the words held an air of certainty coming from Chan. There's value in them. It's the first time in a long time that hearing someone - even yourself - telling you that it's going to be okay brings you some semblance of peace, of safety. Knowing that things can get better given a little time. Sunflowers only bloom after some tender loving care; you learned that back when you were kids. 

God damn, were you determined back then...

Every fiber of Chan's body exudes safety as he run his hands through your hair, your tears faltering with every delicate touch as you shed the weight of inner phantoms that you've repressed for forever. Your eyes close at the gesture, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath your palm.

"You take care of me, I take care of you. Like it's always been."

You pick up on the strain in his tone, eyes wide when you open them again. Tears threaten to spill over Chan's lower lashes, unable to hold back those emotions any longer. Your fingers are still trembling lightly when you reach up and wipe them away, mirroring the actions he's been calming you with all night. You feel the arm around your torso squeeze you once, almost a silent thank you for that comfort, even in the state you're currently in.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Not quite," You mutter, sniffling as you keep your eyes on him. "but I'm better than I was an hour ago. All thanks to you."

Chan smiles; one of those smiles that isn't much, but somehow it still reaches his eyes.

"Good, that's good." He pulls you further up, pressing his fingers into your spine. "Now how about I order us some take out and you and I sit and watch a movie? Maybe that new one that you said looks laughably terrible? Or a comfort movie? Your choice."

"Can we lay here for ten more minutes?" You ask. You've already dropped your head against his chest, eyes closed as you listen to his heart thump against sturdy muscle.

"Ten more minutes. Twenty, if you need. I'm not going anywhere." Chan's reply is soft and slow as he continues to hold you close, your tears drying as seconds turn to minutes. You melt into his warmth, pressing further against his neck. Chan mirrors you, a silent reassurance that he's here; now and always.

In Chan's arms you're both so small, so powerless as you confront the demons that have long haunted you. There's no rushing here. Healing isn't a process that can be rushed. He doesn't need you to say a word or do anything. There's nothing more to say, no. He'll just hold you with everything he has. You relax against him, breaths evening out as you feel exhaustion take over.

As your eyes close, you feel the past few months recede.

The future seems less daunting. Just as the pieces shatter, you are finally ready to begin picking them up and piece them back together. It'll get ugly; viscous and foreboding. But Chan is willing to help you with such a demanding process.

That's everything that keeps you going.

It's what keeps you alive.

If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 13

The day of the Flower Dance has arrived. I received a letter in my mailbox yesterday informing me of the details.

Tomorrow we're all getting together for the Flower Dance.

If you can find a partner, you might even want to participate in the dance yourself!

There's a little clearing beyond the forest west of town where we hold the dance. Arrive between 9 am and 2 pm if you're interested.

-Mayor Lewis

I don't totally want to go considering I'll have to see Haley. We have not spoken for a couple days again. This time I feel it's deliberate. At least on my end it is. My heart still aches from our last encounter with one another at the Bath by the train station. She hasn't tried to reach out and apologize once. Part of me wonders if she even remembers. I wasn't going to try to find out though.

She will be dancing away with Alex with not a care in the world. Not even a second thought about what happened the other day. Everyone else will have a partner too except for me and I will look stupid standing on the side, watching everyone else have fun.

"I have better things to do today anyway," I mutter under my breath while crumbling up the letter about the Flower Dance, "I will start the day by watering my crops like usual, then I will swing by Pierre's-... oh never mind."

Everything will be closed today. How stupid. It only takes me 30 minutes to water everything and then I'll have nothing to do.

Back in my house, I sulk around for a good hour, refusing to do anything else. I stare over at the dresser I now have in my bedroom, wondering what clothes I would wear if I were to go check it out for a second. IF I were to go.

Getting up out of bed, I pace over to the dresser and proceed to pull open the draws to see what clothes I have to wear. There is nothing even remotely nice enough to wear.

"It's not like I'd be staying anyway. I'll just go, peek around the corner and leave," I start convincing myself.

Next thing you know I am walking down to the clearing the note said the Flower Dance is held. I had just thrown on baggy jeans, and a white flannel with a light pink tank top underneath. I kept the flannel open so the pink tank top is more visible.

I made the mistake to fiddle around in the fields before I left so my knees are covered with dirt and I am kind of dusty.

I've never been this far west before. I got a little lost finding my way but I did eventually make it since I saw ropes with colorful banners leading the way. But just as I said I was going to do, I stood back and observed from a distance.

Sam, Abigail and Sebastian are huddled together. Oddly, Penny is standing around with them. Emily has arrived back in town from her trip. She is prancing around and doing her own thing. Shane is also off on his own, but moping around instead of prancing. Leah and Elliot are chatting away over some punch, and Maru is talking to Harvey while they grab food from the buffet table. The older folks are also kind of just standing around and chatting with one another.

As badly as I wanted to ignore her, I saw Haley sitting by herself in the corner of the clearing in the grass. She seems to be wiping her eyes constantly, and trying to hide away behind her golden locks. She has the most gorgeous white, spring dress on with a crown made of beautiful pink flowers. Alex is nowhere in sight.

My legs seem to have a mind of their own, because I find myself approaching Haley in the shaded corner of the clearing. No one else had my attention, only Haley. I felt everyone's eyes on me as they watched me cut across the grass to get to her.

Haley didn't notice my presence until I was directly looming over her, casting extra shadows over her since I blocked any bit of light that's shining behind me.

She quickly wiped her eyes and nose before she spoke, "What are you doing over here?" she sniffles.

"I came to see what you are doing." I respond blandly.

Haley recognizes the bland tone and proceeds to quiz me more, "if you are just going to be all grumpy, why did you even come?"

"I felt left out. I had nothing else to do today. At least I'm not crying in the corner by myself." I snap back in a monotone voice.

That made her stand up to face me now. Except she doesn't seem that threatening considering her cute little outfit and her height. She brushes off her dress before pointing an accusing finger at me.

"I didn't ask you to come over here and ridicule me. Now go on with whatever you came over here to do and be gone!" she shouts. Our conversation is not in the range of anyone else, despite the shouting.

"Why are you crying, Haley? Where is Alex?" I calmly ask to try to settle things down. I don't try putting a hand on her shoulder or anything yet because I don't think we are quite back to that level.

She broke down crying instead of answering me. She covered her face with her hands and lowered her head. I just awkwardly stand there waiting for her to get to a point that she can speak.

"Haley you are going to wreck your makeup," is the best I can do to try to stop her from crying any longer. It worked though because her wails turned to breathy inhales.

"A-A-Alex l-l-left," she manages to get out.

"What do you mean?"

"He left for Zuzu City this morning to go see someone named Taylor. I heard them on the phone talking today and he just left right after. He left me hanging here with no dance partner. I have been the Flower Queen for 5 years and again this year, but how lame is it that I don't have a partner to dance with," Haley blurts out all at once. She got angrier and angrier as she went on.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Alex just left? On the day of the Flower Dance? Does he know how important that is to you?"

Her eyes sparkle up at me with more tears ready to form.

"Yes."

"So now you don't have a dance partner?" I reiterate.

"Yes."

"Have you asked anyone at all?"

"Ew no. That's not my job," she holds her nails up to her face to admire them. They are manicured with an eye catching, sea blue color.

"Well how are you supposed to get a dance partner if you don't ask around?"

She rolls her eyes at me, "I don't. Everyone else has a dance partner. You'll see. It's the same line up of partners every year. Nothing changes. It's kind of a tradition."

"Fuck tradition," I stick my hand out to her, palm up. I watch the gears work in her head to figure out what I am doing. It finally clicks and her head rapidly moves to look up at me.

"You... want to be my dance partner?" She says hesitantly. I can't tell how she is feeling with this proposition I have made.

I reach out and gently wipe the tear marks of her mascara from her cheeks. "Someone has to be the Queen's knight in shining armor."

Haley started blushing immensely at my remark. All she could do was look up and stutter at me. It was quite the sight to see.

"It is now time for the Flower Dance to begin! Everyone find your dance partners and line up as usual," Mayor Lewis hollers.

I watch as everyone huddles around, while the dancers line up across from their partner. The pairings really surprised me. Emily is with Shane, Sebastian with Abigail, Sam with Penny, Maru with Harvey, and Leah with Elliot.

Haley takes me by the hand and drags me straight to the open spot in the middle. She sticks me where I am supposed to go and prances over to her spot across from me. Since I have taken Alex's place, I am unfortunately the only girl on the guys side.

"I'm not a very good dancer. Warning you now," I tell Haley.

"You'll be fine. Don't worry," she giggles.

Mesmerizing music starts filling the air. I can't help but feel the weight of my worries lift off my shoulders as soon as I hear the song start.

On cue, Haley and the other girls in her row start swinging their dresses side to side to the beat. My row, which is all the guys, start approaching them to the beat. I am kind of behind on all the moves, Haley is amused.

The whole world seems to stop as I get closer to Haley. I can't help admiring how gorgeous she looks in the afternoon sunlight. It starts to feel as if we are the only two in the world.

Haley starts to wave her arms in the air while swaying her hips. I am not even paying attention to what moves I'm supposed to be doing at this point. I am just kind of bopping around... although that is kind of all I'm supposed to be doing anyway.

Haley goes back to swaying her arms in the air, I sense my row is moving closer to the girls, so I approach closer to Haley. We are almost face to face now, just a foot apart.

"You are all dirty," she whispers to me, referencing the dirt on my pants from this morning.

"You have no idea," I give her a wink, causing her cheeks to flare pink. I notice her stumble in the choreography which I doubt she has ever done in the 5 years she has been Flower Queen.

All the guys go to grab their partner's waist gently with one arm, and do some sort of a formal walk in a circle move.

I grab Haley's waist and hold it tightly, giving her a slight squeeze. Our bodies are pressed up to one another. The two of us are so wrapped up in our little circle move, that we don't notice everyone else has stopped.

Mayor Lewis clears his throat off in the distance, "That's it for the Flower Dance festivals folks. Y'all have a great night."

Haley and I immediately backed off from each other severely embarrassed. I look around at the crowd and notice Elliot and Leah fanning themselves as if they're saying 'it got steamy in here'.

Haley smooths out her skirt and gives me a little curtsy. "Thank you, my knight in shining armor, for saving the day."

I return a small bow and take her hand, planting a kiss on the back of it before releasing, "You know where to find me if you ever require rescuing."

I'm so glad I ended up going to the Flower Dance this year.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.172 New plan

Running around after four toddlers while chatting up our guests was quite the ordeal, and me and Sophia were beat. Dirty plates and glasses lined every surface, making me wonder who raised our friends, heh. The mess was too much to tackle in our state, so we left it to tend to in the morning. Sophia crashed while I got Desiree ready for bed. My mood tanked when I thought about how happy Mama would have been tonight, surrounded by all her grandchildren for the first time. I'm not sure what triggered it, but my mind drifted to this morning when I wondered about my life's trajectory. Before now, I'd been fine working this yoga thing until I figured out what my real passion is. But now I find myself unsettled. Desi is older now, so life can be more flexible. I can start working again, but do I want to? How long do I want to teach yoga? Do I want to teach yoga? Mama was right about me being good at it, but what do I think?

That time I fixed the sink and wondered about being naturally handy came to mind. Maybe instead of forcing myself to fulfill someone else's dream, I should take advantage of my privilege and figure out what I want. The money tree has blessed Sophia and me with the gift of time. I could be by Sophia's side the entire time we were trying to get pregnant. And I was still by her side through the birth and recovery. Without the need to run to a job every day, I have time to figure myself out and what I'd rather be doing with my life. Don't get me wrong. I still love yoga. And I sincerely wish everyone would learn and live less stressful lives. I don't mind teaching, but do I want to do it forever? Maybe when Less moves, I'll go get Mama's candle equipment and give it a whirl.

I put Desi down, and she seemed very hesitant about her new bed at first. Even though we only made minor changes, her room was different, and she noticed. We took out the changing table and put it in the other room. And, of course, the bed replaced the crib. It took her a minute to decide if she liked being so low to the ground, but eventually, she figured it was okay.

I tuck her in, tell her I love her, and watch her drift to sleep much quicker than I'd ever seen. All the activity must have wiped her out too. I turn out the lights and watch her for a moment. There's something calming about knowing your little ones are safe at rest. It's a beautiful thing. And so is she.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

So I've got some thoughts for my RvB gang.

I had a thought recently. I found Sharkface to be an extremely boring villain. Like he was cool(ish) and the jokes about how edy he was trying to be were funny(ish) but. You know who would have been more fun? The dude with the robot arm.

Think about it - the guy was shot by Carolina and left behind on a drilling rig that blew up, and survived. He tanked a MAC round from orbit and all he lost was his right arm. They've set up a perfect villain here. Claiming he literally can't die would be so funny! Every time he appears he dies, then he just shows back up with yet another robotic prosthetic. His whole subplot is that he just desperately wants to die, and he finally figured out that the pyramid thing is his only shot at finally getting his wish. The problem is that he would also wipe out the rest of life as we know it if he did that.

Anyway, the background subplot is what's really important here. Carolina is being hunted down by a shadowy figure. Evidence points to him being another hired gun working with the pirates. He is always half a step behind her, getting closer and closer to tracking her down.

Eventually in the climax, the hitman catches up to Carolina. They go through an intense duel, where he seems to be able to anticipate all of her best moves and counteract them. Finally, she manages to hit the guy hard enough to knock off his helmet.

It's York.

Then we get some backstory - when York was shot going after Wyoming, Delta turned on his healing unit. He then told Tex that York was dying. As soon as she left Delta woke York back up, got him to swap armor with one of the grunts, and disappear.

So York spent several months slowly recovering. During that time, life finally beat him. He didn't have his armor, he didn't have his healing unit anymore, and he didn't have Delta to keep him coming. He finally gave up on the dream of finding Carolina alive somewhere.

So instead, he decided it was high time someone finally killed Director Church. He would kill the man who took everything he'd ever loved - admittedly, in a roundabout sort of way - from him. Only when he tracked the director down, he found hundreds of dead Allison lookalikes and archive footage of yet another cheap robot replacement killing the Director - except this time Church went to far. He made a replacement of her. He couldn't even let his own daughter's memory find peace.

So, York ended up with a new goal: kill the robot that had stolen Carolina's face (armor). End it once and for all. Bring some closure for the girl that he loved so much but never got to keep.

After all of this revelation, we finally get York and Carolina's big happy ending. I don't know how they beat the immortal robo guy, but mostly I just care about my Yorkalina angst and resolutions.

Anyway. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. And... should I write this at some point? Let me know.

[ahoystevee]

The Sweetest Torture One Could Bear | Part 1 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)

It’s 1990. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are forced to confront their shared past and shifting dynamics under the ever changing hues of a gay club in Indianapolis. Eddie, exuding confidence and embracing his sexuality offers a helping hand to Steve who is buckling under the weight of societal pressures.

OR: Steve wants to sleep with a guy for the first time and Eddie reluctantly helps against his better judgement.

Indianapolis, 1990

Eddie leant back on his elbows against the metal topped bar of the club, eyes squinting as he delicately held the rim of his glass between his fingers.

It was a Saturday night which meant that it was nothing short of a a visual feast for the senses.

The music pulsated through his body, situating itself in his spine as he squinted out at the vast expanse of potential conquests through the smoky haze.

The multi-colored lights above bathed the adumbrate dancers in an ever-changing rainbow of hues. The walls were adorned with mirrors, reflecting the dancers and amplifying the feeling of being part of something larger than oneself. Giant video screens played music videos and club scene footage, immersing them all in a world of pure hedonism.

Of course, Eddie couldn't deny that a majority of the time the clientele were just as visually stunning as their surroundings. Dancing bodies adorned in leather, lace, and sequins were all in abundance, as per usual.

But something was different. He didn't have the usual feeling that anything was possible in there tonight.

Something was missing.

"What about that guy?" Robin asked; voice elevated so it could carry over the bass of the music as she leaned across from behind the bar on her tiptoes to point out across the room to a guy with spiky blonde hair in a tank top.

“Nah - had him already. He's boring." Eddie said cavalierly.

"Boring?" She reiterated, busying herself with wiping the rims of highball glasses with a dish towel.

"He sucked dick like he was working a nine to five." He scoffed a laugh, taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay, fine." She shrugged, neck craned as she scoured their surroundings.

"Him?"

"Nah - too - muscly." Eddie grimaced, immediately glancing away without wasting a second.

"I thought you liked that?" She asked, looking up at him beneath furrowed brows.

"I like 'em toned, like a subtle 'yeah I work out but it's not my entire personality.' I don't want someone who looks like they're the face for sports steroids advertisements." Eddie said firmly.

"God you're so picky, you're looking for a hook up not a husband." Robin clarified, rolling her eyes.

"There's just nobody new and exciting. It's the same faces, same music, same routine. It's exhausting." He said, staring out ahead of him as he kissed his lips between his teeth.

"Yeah, I forgot that getting your dick sucked could be so tedious." She said in jest as Eddie chose not to respond.

"You know, maybe you're just not as into it as you used to be. That's fine, you know. To grow up and get a life outside of hooking up with people. Maybe settle down, get a boyfriend or something."

Eddie narrowed his eyes, pretending to be in deep pensive thought.

"Nah, that doesn't sound like something I'd do." He eventually said, lips breaking out into a devilish grin as Robin glared across at him.

He allowed his eyes to glaze back over the crowds of people.

His vision fixated on a lone guy with lightly tousled brown hair leaning against the metal bars of the balcony, facing away from him. It was long, layered. Purposely messy? Eddie couldn't decide. But he loved how it curled around his neck from the length.

He was wearing camel coloured chinos and a navy blue T-shirt. Fingers tapping against his crossed arms as he continued to look out at the vastness ahead of him.

Two go-go boys dressed in nothing but tight fitting, metallic shorts and pairs of cheap angel wings that were most likely bought from a Spirit Halloween store were either side of him.

They were elevated from the floor, encased in metal caging with dollar bills hanging limp from their waistbands.

It was an ethereal sight given the circumstances. If he believed in that kind of la-di-da butterfly effect bullshit he would have assumed that the universe had placed him in his line of sight for a reason.

Eddie's eyes scanned the length of his body.

He couldn't help but admire the curvature of his ass; how it was packed so tightly into the material it almost made them look as though they were painted on with the way they hugged his hips and thighs.

"Him." He said firmly, not breaking his gaze.

"What?" Robin asked.

"Him, over there." Eddie said, clicking his fingers with an outstretched arm to draw her in to his line of sight.

"The guy in the chinos?"

"Yeah. I want him."

"You haven't even seen his face yet." She warranted.

"Don't need to. He's got an ass that goes for miles. He could be the ugliest fucker in the world for all I care. I'll just go behind, don't have to look at him." He clarified, biting down against the flesh of his lower lip.

"Here I was thinking you were shallow." She shot back, voice tainted with sarcasm as she slung the dish towel over her shoulder.

"I'm going over." He affirmed - voice low as he downed the remainder of his drink, reaching around to place the empty glass behind himself on the bar.

"Okay, have fun. Be good." Robin called out after him as he brushed down the front of his black tee.

"Never. Don't miss me too much." He shot back, teasingly as he ran his fingers through his bangs to ensure they were placed in the perfect divide between careless and purposeful.

The thing with Eddie is that he didn't get rejected. In fact, he couldn't even recall the last time he got rejected.

He read an article that stated that statistically speaking, men think about sex on average around 19 times a day. This was one of those times that Eddie was happy to be branded as above average.

Of course, these statistics were based solely on straight men. Go figure.

When Eddie wasn't having sex, he was thinking about having sex. And the second he was finished having sex with the most beautiful man who ever lived, he was thinking about the next beautiful man who ever lived that he'd meet the next night.

And luckily for this guy, he was right on his radar.

He sauntered through the throngs of people, skin prickling in anticipation as he approached him. It was almost exhilarating, reaching the apex of a desired conquest.

"Hey, had a busy night?" Eddie asked, slinking an arm around the guys waist as he whipped round to face him.

He had hoped his gaze would be met with the same inquisitive eagerness. Instead, he was met with brown forlorn eyes and furrowed brows with a sinister familiarity to them.

The chiselled jawline, the mole on the side of his neck beneath the stubble, the irate demeanour.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Eddie announced, retracting his hand with the same speed you would if you caught it on the side of a hot teakettle.

"Oh God." The other breathed out, eyes darting maniacally across his face as Eddie watched the muscles of his neck contract with a deep swallow.

"Steve?" Eddie asked, biting back a laugh as his jaw slacked in awe.

"No." He said hastily, shaking his head as he darted around at his surroundings for a quick escape.

"Oh my God, it is you. Steve Harrington. From Hawkins High." Eddie pressed as he watched him back away, hand gripping the metal of the balcony for stability.

King Steve. Hawkins High maverick, belligerent basketball captain, disciples at his heels. He sounded like a cliche.

He was a cliche.

The man was a planet who carried his own gravity.

Continue reading on AO3:

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.24)

Chapter 24 I lay in Matty's bed in silence, hugging my knees to my chest, the curtains drawn with no lights on. I didn't know what time it was. I didn't care. Matty wasn't here.

After Carly had dropped me off back at Matty's apartment which he'd given me his keys to ("Stay as often as you like. Stay every night. This is your home now," he'd said) I heard my phone ring. I picked it up immediately, knowing it was Matty, who said he'd call me as soon as he got through customs. We talked right up until the flight attendant gave him his last warning before takeoff. Saying goodbye on the phone wasn't as hard because I already was numb. After that, I curled up in a ball on Matty's bed and cried and cried... I cried for hours. I cried until I didn't have any tears left. When I couldn't cry anymore I lay there in silence, numb, my fingers still clutching the locket Matty had given me at the airport.

Whether it was hours later or days, I wasn't sure, but what I knew for certain was that I'd never felt more hollow. My phone rang again and I looked down to see Matty Facetiming me. I picked up right away, closing my eyes at the brightness of the screen.

"Anna, my darling," he said wistfully, his eyes bright. He was sitting in the back of a van, his hair tousled in a handsome way, headphones perched on his head. His brow furrowed as he took in the sight of me. "Did I wake you? It's not that late there, is it?" he asked, referring to the dark room and my eyes which were barely open.

I checked the time on my phone. "No, it's only a bit past ten. I just... forgot to turn on the lights," I said groggily as I turned on a nearby lamp, my voice hoarse from sobbing for so long. "My eyes are too puffy to open all the way. I was crying for a bit when I got home... I must look like such a mess..." I said, looking at myself for the first time in the camera. I was right, I looked awful.

"I love that you called my home 'home'," he said dreamily, his eyelashes fluttering as he cocked his head to the side. He hiccuped, then smiled at me seductively. "And I think you look sexy."

I looked at Matty, confused. "Have you been drinking?" I asked, feeling a little concerned.

"Well, I had a few drinks on the plane," he admitted, "I can't remember how many... but I couldn't spend the whole time crying, could I?" he laughed, then hiccuped again, his face suddenly sad. His nostrils flared as his jaw tensed.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked gently, starting to feel worried.

"I don't think I can do this, Anna," he whispered. His eyes were suddenly filled with tears.

I knew what he was feeling. I felt it too. But something felt off. Something was wrong here. And what surprised me was that while I felt sadness and longing, just as Matty did, a different emotion surpassed them. Concern.

"Matty, baby. It's going to be okay. It's only a few days," I tried to comfort him, scraping the bottom of my emotional gas tank for energy. I felt weak, but our love fuelled me. He started to cry, leaning his head against the window drunkenly as he looked down at me on his phone. "Baby, I'm here with you," I said softly while he shook his head to himself.

"I need you," he said quietly between sobs. "I can't do this." He looked around frantically, panic starting to set into his eyes.

The more he broke down, the more I felt myself wake up. I couldn't let him hurt like this. I especially couldn't let him cope like this. I knew the pain he felt, but I had to be strong for both of us.

"Baby, look at me. Do you see me?" I asked gently. He looked back at the camera and nodded at me, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweater as he hiccuped again. "I see you too. And you look so handsome, baby. I have the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world," I said, smiling at him genuinely. He smiled a small smile with his tear-stained eyes, hanging on my every word. "I'm so excited to see you so soon. We'll get to cuddle again, and then we can go to the beach, and you can feel the sand between your little toes. You can rub sunscreen on my back so I don't get burnt, and then I'll rub it on your back too. Then we can go swimming and play and have fun, and then we can go get a nice dinner somewhere... That'll be so nice, won't it?" I asked encouragingly. Matty nodded, his tears now slowing. I smiled even bigger now, excited to do all those things with him too. "Will you leave the alcohol alone for a bit though? Maybe save some for me? Getting me nice and drunk sounds kind of nice, doesn't it?" I said playfully.

"Oh there's plenty to go around," Matty said, not noticing the look of worry on my face. Then he turned his head to the side, someone getting his attention. "I've gotta go, darling," he said.

"Will you call me after the show? I don't care how late it is..." I asked hopefully.

"The second I get off stage," he said distractedly, too drunk to focus on more than one thing at a time.

"I love you," I said nervously.

His eyes flickered back to the screen, his face breaking out into a big warm authentic smile. "I love you too darling. To the moon and back."

That calmed me a little. I knew my Matty was in there.

The second we hung up I texted George.

Matty seems a bit drunk, and I'm a bit worried for him. Can you do me a favour and keep an eye on his drinking tonight? Hope the flight was okay <3

George must have been thinking of me too, probably having overheard Matty's half of the conversation in the van, because he texted me back immediately.

Flight was long, but things went as okay. I'll do my best with Matty. Try not to worry too much, I won't let him get in trouble. How are you holding up?

My heart swelled, thankful that I had George to rely on. He was such a good friend to me.

Oh, you know. Taking it minute by minute.

Promise me you'll keep him safe?

I waited as I watched George typing.

I've been keeping that bloke out of trouble since we were boys, it's practically my full-time job- I'm an expert ; )

He'll be fine, I promise <3 Get some rest over there. Sweet dreams.

I smiled from relief. I would have cried if I had any tears left.

Good luck at the show- talk soon &lt;3

I rolled over on the bed, finally noticing that I was still clutching Matty's locket in my hand. I looked down at it, the M shining up, remembering the mirror, there to remind me of my strength. I realized what I needed to do. I needed to be strong for him- for both of us. I couldn't let myself drown in this sadness. I had to continue to live for him, to show him I wouldn't give up for us. He'd been there for me every single time I needed him. Time and time again he was my rock, fighting for me when I couldn't do it for myself. I'd be there for him. Whatever came our way, I'd fight for us. He saw that strength in me before I did- helped me realize it. Now it was my turn to help him.

I looked down at my phone, it was almost 11:00 pm. I realized there wasn't much of my day left to do anything with it, and the exhaustion- emotional, physical, and mental- from the last 14 hours started to sink in. I decided I'd let myself steep in my sadness a little longer tonight and start fresh in the morning.

I put on Matty's locket, patting it over my heart. I got up to go pee and brush my teeth. I used Matty's toothbrush, smiling at the memory of all the times he'd steal mine. When I came back into the bedroom I rifled around in Matty's drawers, putting on his boxers, his sweatpants, and his t-shirt. I wanted to surround myself with him. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a familiar shade of blue. I turned to see Matty's favourite hoodie, the one he wore last night under the stars together, hanging over the edge of a chair. That night felt like ages ago... My heart twinged, realizing he left it behind for me. He was so thoughtful, it broke my heart.

I pulled the sweater on over my head, the smell of Matty enveloping me. I breathed in deeply, savouring the warm spiced scent as it washed a wave of relaxation over my tired body.

I walked over to the bed, climbing in. I picked up my phone from where it lay on the nightstand and took a picture of myself laying in his bed, in his favourite hoodie, smiling as genuinely as I could, replaying our happy memories in my mind as I snapped the photo. I knew Matty wouldn't see it for a while because of the whirlwind of concert prep that was likely happening, but I had to carry on like normal. 

Missing you like it's my job :) Good luck at the show tonight! You'll be amazing. I wanna hear every detail the second you get off stage. I love you to the moon and back <3 x

I sent off the photo along with the text, then rolled over on the bed, pulling the duvet over me. Then I gathered up most of the pillows next to where I lay and cuddled them as if they were Matty. I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined as hard as I could that Matty was here with me. Something shifted under my shirt as I snuggled in tight. It was Matty's locket. 'When we're apart, you'll find me in the home I made in your heart - M'

He was there with me. I could feel him. He was always there.

[snow-system-wol]

Some thoughts we had on the first alliance raid :D (like, the duty itself)

First boss

-circles appear on ground- haha what's this. That was definitely the "oh right new mechanics" moment lol

I really need to figure out how to aim that thingy, like it targets with a mind of its own lmao

The multi hit stack marker literally does so much damage, especially if some people are down. Based on watching one of the other alliances when I was dead the first try, it can easily do much more than a healer's total HP even on a Sage by the time all hits are done so instas seem very needed here. (That WAS with more ppl dear though)

Dodged everything SO much better after our first wipe, easy to learn the fight blindly

Dragon time

MOST of this fight has pretty clear telegraphs that were guessable on first view. Not too difficult at all

I cannot imagine keeping decent DPS uptime with anything except ranged during the "concentric circles + roaming AoEs" bit though. Chaos

The Warriors of Darkness Ice?

Speaking of chaos

Most of the tells are easy enough to catch and a lot of the worse attacks have longer cast times than you'd think (270 cleave), but it sure is chaotic to keep track of the other two enemies while you fight your alliance's

Genuinely this was a super fun fight though

"interrupt this dangerous attack" okay! "The enemy tank is doing passage of arms in front of them" ohhh

The Boss

Woof

Some of the things were fun to figure out, like realizing the mechanics in the limited size arena or understanding the half room cleaves

Dodging the spreading line AoEs is, uh, hm

It's not the worst but the curving animation for the cleave tells makes it pretty difficult for me to tell the safe quadrant which isn't ideal when it telegraphs like 3

Speaking of telegraphs. Not me looking at the ground dodging ridiculous line AoEs and then realizing the boss started to telegraph directional cleaves and that I didn't know what the first one was. F in the chat

Overall a good fight but some parts of it are hard in a frustrating way

Gen. experience

It's a pretty raid area and I'm def enjoying the aesthetics (though nothing hit quite like seeing Azeyma's arena for the first time, but that's a pretty high bar to clear)

I'm glad there's some animation bits during the "wait for it...!" I think but I imagine that would be a lot more troublesome of a mechanic if deaf

The change to makes orchestrion rolls universal instead of specific is pretty nice imo (even if I didn't get any yet bc day 1 roll fighting)

I'm glad other people were having fun with the experience, that was the best part of it. Two of our party members were kinda being annoying and that took a lil fun out of it (tank seemed to think everyone doing day 1 content are supposed to be savage raiders in skill, and scholar was just frustrating)

(lmao, they got annoyed about potential dps loss from me being rezzed before the first boss instead of respawning. My colleague and fellow party member -- we all got very murdered in the first boss and had the status effects anyway. Also I'm a DNC, not a melee. It's just not that dire)

Even with that, it was a lot of fun, though I don't think it would've been half as enjoyable if not doing it on VC with a friend :D

Also it was like, 5 am and I'd woken up for it lmaooo

[i-arch-my-backula]

Vampires and Cowboys: Lost Boys x male oc and Michael Emerson x male oc

I'm so happy to be finally posting this fic of my oc Miguel Rey. This is also being posted on my AO3. I'd like to say that I'm white and I don't speak Spanish so let me know if something is spelled wrong or I'm being offensive.

Warnings: Swearing and smoking

Miguel turns off his car and opens his door, throwing down his cigarette and stomping it out under his cowboy boot. He opens the back seat door and takes out a crate full of eggs, some produce and a pelt from a fox he caught recently. He shuts his car door and walks over to Mr. Emerson's house, noticing the new car and motorbike on the driveway. Walking up to the front door he hears a dog start to bark. He hears muffled voices and he knocks a few times on the door. 

The man who opens the door isn’t Mr. Emerson. He’s much younger, around Miguel’s age. Miguel gives the man a smile and sets down the crate. 

“Is Mr. Emerson here? I’ve got a delivery for him.” He says wiping sweat off his forehead. The man gives Miguel a glance up and down before turning his head. 

“Hey grandpa! Someones got a delivery for you!” The man shouts. 

“Well let him in Michael! Tell him to meet me in the kitchen!” He hears Mr. Emerson shout back. Miguel picks up the crate as Michael lets him in. Miguel, having come to this house every week for a year now knows where the kitchen is. 

“I didn’t know Mr. Emerson was going to have his grandchildren visiting him this summer.” Miguel says as he unpacks the contents of the crate. Michael watches as Miguel pulls out vegetables and eggs. 

“We’re not just staying here for the summer. We’re staying here until my mom finds a place to live around here. So did you grow all of these yourself or did you just go to the store for him?” Michael asks, looking over the other man's attire of worn in jeans and a dirty white tank top. 

“Well I did grow the vegetables myself, sadly I can’t lay eggs so these are from my chickens.” Miguel pulls out the fox pelt and Michael looks down at it before looking back up at Miguel. 

“So do you know any good places to hang out around here?” Michael asks. Miguel runs a hand through his hair and looks out the kitchen window. 

“There’s a boardwalk about a ten minute drive from here. I can show you around later this week if you’re interested.” Miguel says. Upstairs he hears footsteps. 

“Yeah that sounds good. What day works for you?” Michael asks. Miguel shrugs. 

“How about Friday. I’ve got nothing going on then.” He says, seeing Mr. Emerson walking into the kitchen. 

“This looks great Miguel. How much do I owe you?” He asks, pulling out his wallet. 

“I think 20 dollars is good. I made sure to take special care of the fox skin Mr. Emerson. I have some bones left over if you want to use them for something too.” Mr. Emerson smiles at the offer and takes out his wallet. 

“That’s very kind of you Miguel. I’ll see if I end up needing them,” Mr. Emerson hands Miguel a 20 dollar bill and elbows Michael, “You know, you two are around the same age. Maybe Michael should be helping you on your farm.” Miguel smiles and picks up his now empty crate. 

“That’s a generous offer, but I have enough on my hands trying to care for one dog. I don’t think I can afford another collar and leash.” He jokes, putting the cash in his pocket. Mr. Emerson laughs and Michael just gives him a smile, “I’ll see y’all later.” Miguel leaves the kitchen and walks back outside. Putting the crate in his car he drives back home. 

Once Miguel gets home he picks up his mail and looks over the letters. Nothing too important being in the mail today. Sometimes he gets letters from his family, but he hasn’t gotten one lately. He sets the mail down and his phone starts to ring. He walks over and picks it up off the receiver. 

“Hello?” 

“¡Miguel, soy yo tu madre! ¡Ay, te he echado mucho de menos!” 

“Mamá, ¿cómo has estado? Ha pasado un tiempo desde nuestra última llamada.” Miguel asks, looking out his kitchen window at his animals. 

“I’ve been good miel. I’ve been practicing my English like you’ve been telling me to. Can you hear how much gooder I’ve gotten?” She asks. Miguel smiles at her excitement. 

“Yes mama you’re getting very good at speaking English. How has everybody been?” He asks, leaning on the counter. 

“Oh everyone’s been great! Josephina is pregnant! You remember Rico? Her husband right?” She asks. 

“Yes mama I was at their wedding. But she’s pregnant? That’s amazing! I can’t wait to be an uncle!” The two of them talk on the phone for another 20 minutes before Miguel has to go feed his animals. 

  “Oh miel before you go I want you to have some fun sometime soon. I know you’ve been working so hard and you deserve a little fun in your life. Maybe you’ll meet a girl.” Miguel laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“Alright mama I’ll have some fun and try to find a girlfriend. Te amo.” 

“Te amo.” His mother replies before she hangs up. For the rest of the day Miguel thinks about the boardwalk. He’s been there countless times for deliveries and just for fun. He’s been meaning to see his friend who works as a fortune teller there too. So after dinner he decides to make his way over to the boardwalk. 

Miguel steps up to the boardwalk and looks around. He notices a few groups of people lingering around the entrance but he doesn’t pay much mind to it. He tips his head to a few women passing by as he makes his way down the boardwalk. His first stop being the tarot card reader. He frequents her booth on the boardwalk. He’s not a very religious or spiritual man but he still has fun getting his card read. He enters the booth into the soft lighting, seeing Alice, the reader, waiting for her next customer. 

“Well hello Miguel. It’s been awhile. Take a seat please. I can sense something great is coming for you today.” She says. Miguel takes his seat and puts two dollars down on the table and watches as she shuffles her deck of cards. 

“Alright Ms. Alice, let’s see what the future of this summer holds for me.” He says. Alice places down three cards. The lovers, the moon and strength being the cards drawn. Alice nods and looks over the cards, her many silver rings glimmering in the soft light.

“I’d be careful this summer. You’re going to find love, but also challenges with that love, you’ll remain strong but weakness can still come over you. I’d be careful Miguel.” She says looking back up at him. He nods and looks down at the cards. 

“I’ll keep this in mind. But can you by chance see what my lover is going to look like Alice?” He asks with a knowing smile on his face. She smiles back and picks up the cards.

“I’ll see you soon enough when you come over to drop off my food. Now go enjoy yourself tonight. There’s going to be a live performance with someone I’ve heard is really cool.” Miguel stands up and looks out of the tent before looking back over at Alice.

“I’ll be sticking around for a while. No need to worry about me honey. I’ll see you later.” With those words he leaves the tent and starts making his way around the boardwalk. He watches as everyone of all ages passes by. A booth selling jewelry catches his eye but before he can go in he feels something tugging on his belt. He turns his head and finds a child standing next to him. 

“I’m lost, can you help me find Dwayne?” He asks looking up at Miguel. He nods and takes the child’s hand.

“Of course hermano. How about you tell me your name and we can go where you last saw him.” Miguel says looking around for a bench or security. 

“My name is Laddie and we were playing this game where you throw balls at milk jugs. I was playing it and when I turned around he was gone and I didn’t know what to do.” Miguel spots a bench and takes Laddie over there. He runs a hand over his hair and huffs out a long breath. 

“Ok well he’s probably still on the boardwalk. Can you tell me what he looks like? Anything that can help me know who he is?” he asks, sitting down with Laddie.

“Dwayne has long black hair and he wears a leather jacket. He has on jewelry and he’s pretty tall.” Laddie says, looking around the boardwalk. Miguel looks around with him. Making sure his hand is still holding Laddies. 

“Jesus mary y joseph que clase de hombre pierde un hijo,” Miguel whispers to himself as he looks back over to Laddie, “How about we stay here for 15 more minutes then if he doesn’t come up we can go to security and we’ll find him there. Alright?” Laddie nods as a man approaches them. Looking at him Miguel knows that he's probably Dwayne, “Señor, bendice a este hombre con algo de inteligencia.” He whispers to himself as Laddie gets up and takes Dwayne's hand.

“Gracias por mantenerlo a salvo.” Dwayne says to Miguel. Miguel puts on a frustrated smile and glaces down to Laddie again. 

“Do you speak spanish?” He asks him. Laddie shakes his head. Miguel looks back to Dwayne and his expressionless face. 

“¿Qué diablos dónde estás pensando? ¿Perder a un niño así en un lugar como este? Eres un terrible cuidador si me preguntas. Tienes suerte de que no le haya pasado nada malo, bastardo.” Miguel swears at the other man. He notices another, shorter man walk over next to him. 

“What’s going on over here?” He asks. Miguel Glares at him, holding back a small smile at his ridiculous teased blonde hair. 

“I just helped your friend here find his brother,” Miguel looks back over at Dwayne, “Tú y tu estúpido amigo deberían tener mucho cuidado. También ponte una maldita camisa.” The blond man looks over to Dwayne, his stone cold expression doesn’t change. Miguel leaves and walks to a quieter part of the boardwalk. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one up. He listens to the noise of the boardwalk mix with the waves of the ocean. He feels himself calming down when he spots someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye. 

“You got a light?” He asks Miguel. Miguel pulls out his lighter and lights the other man's cigarette. He’s dressed oddly warm for the weather. His bleach blonde, Billy Idol wanna be mullet only adding to his odd look, “What brings you back here cowboy?” 

“I just needed some quiet before I go back out. I also don’t think everyone would appreciate the smoke.” He says putting his cigarette back in his mouth. 

“I’ve never really seen you here before. Did you just move to town?” The blonde man asks. Miguel shakes his head. 

“I’ve lived here for a year or two now. I’ve been here often during the day, but not usually during the night. Now what are you doing back here?” Miguel asks. 

“I just needed to smoke too. I’m David.” He holds out his hand and Miguel shakes it. 

“I’m Miguel. So David, why are you dressed up so warm? If you don’t mind me asking.” David chuckles and takes a drag from his cigarette. 

“I tend to run cold. I also just like this look. So are you a real cowboy or are you just pretending?” Miguel puts on a polite smile and pushes his hair out of his face. 

“Well I’d say riding horses since I was eight years old and living on a farm all my life makes me a real cowboy. More of a real cowboy than those white guys in Hollywood.” David smiles and taps off his ash. 

“You know I’m friends with a couple of guys who want to save a horse. If you catch my drift.” Miguel smiles and crushes out his cigarette. 

“Maybe I’ll have to meet these friends sometime. What about you David? Are you interested in saving a horse?” David smirks back at him before another blonde man comes running up to David. The other blonde man is dressed as flamboyant as David, but in a slightly different way. 

“Hey there cowboy. I’m Marko.” He says with a grin. Miguel smiles and looks over at Marko. 

“I’m Miguel. You must be one of David’s friends. I’ve heard you’re interested in saving a horse,” He looks down at his watch and sucks in a breath, “Too bad this Cowboy’s got to get going. If y’all got a number I can call-” 

“Just meet us back at the boardwalk tomorrow. We’ll be by the entrance at 10.” David says. Miguel nods. 

“I’ll see y’all later.” He walks between two booths and heads back to the main boardwalk. Waiting by one of the booths he walked between are the two guys from earlier, with Laddie. Miguel just gives them a small nod as he keeps walking. 

[super-ion]

Ion & Emily

How it All Started: chapter 2.5

New Friends

I flip the big switch and it makes a satisfying clunk. The lights come on in stages very dramatically, bringing light to the cavernous space.

Holy shit! This is all mine, my very own secret evil lair.

After my success with the bank and Jackass Jackrabbit, I realized I needed a space that wasn't the unused spare room in my condo. So what does an aspiring supervillain do when they need a lair? They just go down to the waterfront and lease an abandoned warehouse with a big secret basement. There's like a whole frickin' grey market industry for that sort of thing. And it's all allowed, because superheros gotta fight somebody, right?

The lights finish coming on and…

It's empty.

I mean, no shit, it's empty. They cleared it out after the last guy got busted for human trafficking. But it's like… bad empty?

Maybe a quarter of the lights are broken, either flickering badly or not working at all. The space is huge and dingy and there's loose trash scattered everywhere. It'll take forever to get everything set up.

That old familiar one two punch of anxiety and depression hits me in the gut.

What the hell am I doing??

I don't know the first thing about being a supervillain? Why on earth did I think I could do this?

My ruminations are mercifully cut short by a knock on the door.

I stand there in shock for a moment. I thought this lair was supposed to be secret. Why would somebody be knocking on the door.

I cautiously return to the antechamber and climb the stairs to the main warehouse area. I open the door and… and…

Now, I'm not a short girl. I'm 6'2". It can be dysphoria inducing, but for the most part I've made peace with it. Worry about the things you can change etc etc. Also, now that I'm officially supervillaining, I should totally embrace it.

Sorry, got a little off topic there. The point is, I'm tall by most standards. This guy makes me feel short. And on top of being 7 foot something he's built like a tank.

He's incongruously holding a tray of cookies that's completely dwarfed by his hand.

He looks familiar. Why does he look familiar?

"Can I… help you?" I ask, slipping a little into my meek Jen persona.

He extends a hand.

"I'm Arturo," he says in a rumbly voice. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm in the warehouse next door. I take it you're my new neighbor?"

"I… uh… yeah."

Neighbor? Why would anybody…?

Wait, why am I leasing an abandoned warehouse? He must be…

Oh… my… god…

He's Arachnid. I'm neighbors with freakin' Arachnid.

He watches the realization play out on my face with sly satisfaction.

"Oh! I… wow…" I reply a little stupidly. What the hell am I supposed to say to a fellow supervillain who happens to be my neighbor??

"I'm Jen," I say.

I extend a hand, realize realize it's sweaty, wipe said hand on my pants, cringe as I realize I just did that in front of one of my inspirations, and extend it again.

He takes it graciously.

"So, you new in town? Or just new to the business?"

"Uh… second one," I reply. "Did the whole… industrial accident thing and got tech powers. Figured I'd give… uh… this a try."

Recognition dawns on his face.

"Oh damn! You're the girl from the Jackrabbit video!"

I flush with embarrassment.

"Yeah… that's me."

The video had 137k views before it got taken down.

He opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a faint sort of tearing shriek. A hole just kinda opens up in the air and there's a sulfurous ozone smell.

A woman steps out and I forget to breathe. I'm standing there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open and my eyes bugging out.

She's wearing street clothes: jeans, t-shirt and cardigan. Not her iconic costume, but there's absolutely no doubt in my mind that I'm standing in the presence of Lady Lacuna.

Don't get me wrong, meeting Arachnid is cool… but this is a whole other level. I had Princess Portal action figures when I was twelve. I still have Lady Lacuna figures on a shelf in my bedroom right now. I've written fanfiction about her. Hell, I've been a fangirl since before I even figured out I was a girl.

"Hey Art!" she says cheerfully. "Got the repairs done on the pauldron, should be better than new."

She hands a brown paper bag to Arachnid and seems to notice me for the first time.

"Oh!" she says. "New neighbor?

I'm still staring in awe.

"Yeah," Arachnid replied. "New girl on the block."

"Oh! You're the one who posted that video! Ion, right?"

"Y-yeah," I reply.

"God, that was fan-fucking-tastic how you took Jackrabbit down. Nice to see that prick get taken down a peg. I'm Sarah!"

My brain is still short circuiting.

"Uh… Jen," I reply. "I'm… I'm a huge fan… I'm sorry about your dad."

She cocks her head in confusion.

"Oh!" she says after a moment. "Oh no, he's very much alive. Just threw his back out one too many times and decided to retire. He teaches geology at the community college now."

"Oh…" I reply. "Good…"

"You wanna meet him?" she asks and whips out her phone.

Do… I want to meet… Doctor Magma?

"What??" I ask breathlessly.

"Got any dinner plans?"

I shake my head, still struggling to comprehend what's going on.

"Awesome!" she replies. "Art?"

"I would never pass up your father's cooking. I'll bring the wine."

She flashes a thumbs up and brings her phone to her ear.

"Hey Dad? Yeah… well, how do you feel about dinner for four? Got a new coworker who's a big fan of your work."

***

You ever meet your heroes and they're just like... normal people? Granted, they're the sort of people who would trigger a volcanic eruption and/or release mutant spiders on the populace downtown, which is fucking awesome... Okay, maybe they're not normal at all, but they are really cool.

We're just like around the table, drinking wine after dinner.

(Holy. Shit. Doctor Magma can cook. Note to self: get cooking tips from Doctor Magma)

Doctor Magma himself is telling us about the time he and Cobalt Blade (who sounds like a huge asshole) got caught in a shrink ray together and had to team up.

They've all done this before, just B-list supervillains hanging out, having a good time. I just met these people two hours ago, and I feel like I belong here. I've lived my entire life never really feeling like I belong, hell, I haven't spoken to my family in like 6 years. But here, with these villains-

"Okay, okay," Doctor Magma says, after wrapping up his story. "The real reason we're here is to welcome Ion to the family. May she have a long and nefarious career!"

Oh god, he said the quiet part out loud. I think I'm going to cry.

They all raise their glasses to me.

Yeah, I'm crying now.

"Dad, I think you broke her," Lady Lacuna says.

"Sorry," I mumble. "This is… a lot. I just met you… and you're all so nice. And…"

"We all look out for each other," Doctor Magma says.

"Do you have a tailor?" Arachnid asks. "It's cool if you want to do your own thing, but a professional costumer is going to think of stuff you never will and it takes off a lot of pressure. We can hook you up with our guy if you want."

"I do super tech gadgets as a side gig!" Lady Lacuna announces. "Wait, you have tech powers, don't you?"

"I… yeah"

"Would you mind taking a look at my computer some time?"

"Here we go," Arachnid mutters with a wink in my direction. "The transdimensional vortex simulator…"

"I will have you know that simulator has taken years of my life," Lady Lacuna huffs.

"What can you do with your powers?" Doctor Magma asks.

My mouth goes dry. They're all looking at me expectantly.

"I… uh… I guess I've got a party trick I've been working on."

The thing about modern houses is they're full of tech. You've got like wifi connected fridges and coffee makers and everything. I can hear the hum of it all the time. All I need to do is reach out and…

Everything in the house starts beeping and coming to life, the TV, the stereo, the microwave, everything. I even make the lights flicker ominously.

"Okay, that's really cool," Lady Lacuna says. "We should totally do a team up some time."