#some for my fashion sense (yeah i do have terrible fashion sense)

[bywons]

✧ YOU BELONG WITH ME ENHYPEN—

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

( ✶🪽 𝓢. ) 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 1796 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 !𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ 𝒞ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

LEE HEESEUNG tightens the grip around your waist and pulls you in until you bump by his side. you could easily figure out the fake smile plastered on his face, holding you tight by his side in front of his friends. 

“so, is he more handsome than me?”, he whispers as soon as his friends are gone. it took you a couple of minutes to realise why he had a death grip on you, “you seem to like him a lot.” a single conversation with him has heeseung going tomato red now.

“what do you think?”, you scoff, looking him dead in the eye. 

“he's got the old fashioned looks, a proper gentleman with a perfect sense of timing. your kinda guy,” his eyes twitched while defining the guy, oh how bad he wanted to punch him.

“you know, you sound like one of my friends with terrible taste trying to set me up on a blind date”, you laugh, wrapping your hand around his suited biceps. “yep,” heeseung scoffs, “he will go blind soon.” 

“what do you think of me—?” 

“i love you a lot”, you roll your eyes and chuckle, now walking side by side with heeseung, his grip still present on you, “nobody can replace my bambi boy.” 

“your bambi boy huh?”, heeseung realises he can never be angry with his pretty girl when he melts the second he hears his nickname by you, pressing a small kiss on your cheeks and pulling you in. 

“you want it to be somebody else?”, you smirk.

“hey!” 

PARK JONGSEONG keeps a steady frown on his face, watching you finish up your pastry. he's not the type to sulk over things, if there's any problem the first thing he does is talk it out with you, and maybe have a small ice cream date later. but it's been 4 days now, that stupid frown won't leave his face, accompanied with his cold replies, even on this café date!

“is something bothering you these days?”, the fork softly clings against the plate, you try to hold in a giggle, “babe you know can tell me anything,” his sulky face is kinda cute.

“nope, i'm all good,” jay forces a smile. red flag, he's not calling you ‘love’.

“jay, you haven't even touched your pudding,” you sigh.

jay puts on a good serious thinking face, slowly withdrawing his hands from the table and releasing a deep sigh. this thing looks really serious. oh poor jay, what's wrong?

“well”, jay clears his throat before he goes off, “i really didn't think you were like this y/n i didn't expect this from you, if i did something wrong you could've just said that you know how much i love you i would do everything!”

“jay, what are you—”

“and the fuck kinda name's benjamin anyways? like hell we're not in the 19th century, y/n you could do better.”

oh. so that's what it's about. he thinks you're cheating on him, because you left your shared apartment for some benjamin guy for 3 days straight. you don't blame him though, you owe him an explanation.

“babe,” you sigh, “it's not what you think, remember benjamin? my cousin sister's child? i visit her to babysit him.”

“.....the one who called me uncle?”, jay's expression softens, instead he's shocked now.

“yeah!”, you giggle, putting your hand over his for comfort, shooting him a sorry look. “i hate that kid”, jay scoffs, you sigh.

SIM JAEYUN lets out a groan while he stares at the anime plushie in your arms. you're basically burying your face in it snuggling it, and if that wasn't enough the plushie is a man!

no way jake has to compete with a fictional man now.

“why do you need that ugly plushie when im here…”, jake whines, plopping down right beside you and scooting even closer, “am i not good enough?”

“did you just call toji fushiguro ugly?”, a frown casts upon your face as you whip your head around to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. poor him, he's too confused and jealous for this, he really wants to replace the plushie in your arms. “you're out of your mind jake.”

“i am in fact very willing to be out of my mind and be crazy for you,” jake rolls his eyes, shifting closer to you until there's only a pillow between you and him, which he soon throws away. the fresh smell of laundry and cologne floats from his sweatshirt and hits your nose, it always puts you at ease, and you miss the warm afternoons with him, just snuggling and all over each other, giggling over random past memories. “but i know for sure that plushie will…not do that for you,” jake breaks you from your trance.

“how about you show me that?”, you wink at him. heck, have you been staring at him too long?

“now you're talking”, jake smirks, snatching away the plushie from you as he sets it aside, practically throwing himself on top of you, engulfing you within his strong arms to press a series of kisses on your face, “fuck that ugly plushie.”

PARK SUNGHOON sighs, entering your shared bedroom with a bored face and arms folded. some obvious yet subtle signs he's disappointed by you, but the last disappointing thing you remember you did was eat his tiramisu. what crime have you committed now?

the bored expression quickly turns into a playful one as he clears his throat, tilting his head to one side, “are you resisting the urge to kiss and make up with me right now?”

“no not really”, you answer instantly, typing away on your laptop. but then you realised what he actually just said. with squinted eyes and a smile, you turn your head towards him, “kiss and make up? what exactly happened for us to do that?”

“i think it's about time you stop texting your best friend”, sunghoon sits down beside you giving you the meanest eye roll ever. he scoffs, “i don't get why she hates me and you don't do anything about it. it's like you two backbitch about me.”

“you won't believe it but i actually rant about you all the time to her”, you giggle, sunghoon's cheeks blooms from underneath, “she's sick of my extreme love for you.”

you let out a gasp as sunghoon pulls you in his lap, a coy smirk playing around his lips, “she should be. everyone should know i'm the best boyfriend in the world.”

you hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer, “so was the kiss and make up part just an excuse to kiss me.”

“maybe”, sunghoon chuckles, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, “who knows.”

KIM SUNOO stares straight into your phone screen, while listening to you ramble about your day and how it was. and when it glows to reveal the lock screen, sunoo feels infuriated.

“seriously now y/n, i can't believe this!”, sunoo's sudden shift in position causes your head, which was lying on his shoulders, to hit the bed frame, “like this is too much”, he seethes.

you utter a small ‘ouch’ and rub the hurt spot, a confused “what?” leaving your mouth, “wh-what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean, love”, he rolls his eyes, taking your phone and holding up the lockscreen in front of your face. it's not him. it's a random tv show character that he doesn't even know about. it should be him, it must be him, not a guy he doesn't know. “am i really being robbed of my wallpaper privileges?”, he sighs.

you let out a heavier sigh, putting up one of those smiles sunoo can't help but blush to. “don't you worry, love. maybe i don't want other girls to perceive my man. but if you're begging for it, i'll change it”, you giggle.

sunoo let's a sigh of relief and scoffs, “i'm not begging—”

“on one condition though, my head hurts!”

“aww come here, let me kiss it better”, he smiles, pulling you in again.

YANG JUNGWON literally just spawns right behind you as soon as the guy you're talking to at your friend's birthday party decides to make a move on you.

“go find someone who's not taken dude”, jungwon's eyes are green as he spits his words out, your waist already accompanied by his hand. the poor guy leaves in a hurry, not wanting to mess with the intimidating yang jungwon.

jungwon then turns to you, a shadow over his face, he's obviously upset about this, jealous even. “if you were that bored you could've called me”, jungwon mumbles.

“you were in the restroom, ‘won”, you sigh, placing a hand on his broad chest you pout, “are you…jealous—?”

“of course i'm jealous, i leave my pretty girl alone for one minute and some hipster comes and thinks he can have my girl?”, jungwon pauses for a moment to look into your cresent eyes looking up at him, you're smiling, “no. fucking. way.”

“well, it's good for you that i'm yours and only yours”, you reassure him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and you have his breathtaking smile back. he grins at you before kissing you back, “now let's go home, i hate this party.”

NISHIMURA RIKI follows you around like a lost puppy after the dance class with his heart in shatters. just an hour ago, your dance teacher assigned partners for the upcoming festival. and it just looks like the universe is definitely not on riki's side cause you two were not paired.

“listen i'm gonna tell mrs. lee to make you my partner and i'm very sure she will listen, trust me! because you can't just—”

“riki, it's okay! it's just a project it'll be over till next week!”, you comfort your boyfriend ‘cause you know mrs. lee is a tough case, she won't crack at all. “besides, we'll be practising in the same hall.”

“exactly! that way that asshole can tease me how he got you”, riki sighs, plopping down on the benches, “i want to dance with you.”

“and i want to dance with you”, you sigh, sitting down beside him, “but you know mrs. lee would never rearrange.”

riki pulls you in a tight hug. he breathes in the vanilla scent of your hoodie before pulling back, gazing into your eyes, “if that dumbass holds you by your waist, i will go insane.”

“i won't let him do that”, you laugh, hitting his chest.

“can't we just drop out of this already? we can be the audience instead”, riki whines.

“i agree, kissing in the audience and booing them would be way better”, you nod your head. niki laughs, “you're the best girlfriend.”

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[ckret2]

please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed

Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)

Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.

Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.

Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.

Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:

I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:

I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.

But he DOES have tattoos:

I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,

His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"

Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.

As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.

Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.

Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.

[ithebookhoarder]

Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 

So, you’d said yes. 

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 

“What about female guests though?” 

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 

“Anthony?” 

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 

Oh. You were in for it now. 

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!" 

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

[o-sachi]

Dress to Impress Headcanons Pt. 1 - for WinBre Week!

ᯓ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the Wind Breaker characters? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, sugishita kyotaro, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma (more characs in the next part hopefully) ᯓ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be platonic/romantic

[🐟]: for day 8 - side missions prompt! (because dti is a side mission) @windbreakerweek

Sakura Haruka

"How the fuck do I win..."

It will take forever to convince him to play because apparently 'there is no way he's playing dress-up that's made for children' but will fold as soon as you tell him he's just saying that because he hates you.

He keeps forgetting where certain items are and keeps going in circles around the place. That's why he thinks 5 minutes isn't enough.

"Where the fuck are the heels with the pretty pink bows? Man." / "You're going in circles, y'know?" / "Not my fault this shit's a maze."

Pretty standard outfits. Like they're not terrible, but they're not impressive enough to get 4 or 5 stars.

He's more of a simplicity-is-beauty type of guy so that also reflects in the kind of outfits that he makes. But the kids in the server are not having it.

"What does 'ate and served' mean?"

SO SALTY WHEN HE LOSES. But he'll brush it off and pretend that he's cool about it because he is not about to let anyone know he cares about some stupid dress-up game.

Suo Hayato

"Oh, look. I got first place again~"

He was easier to convince. But only if you knew how good he'd be, you wouldn't have asked him to play with you. Why? 'Cuz your morale is plummeting by the second.

He doesn't even need to try. Suo just lets his natural sense of style bleed into the way he plays the game AND HE WINS. He's pretty and so are his outfits.

Suo knows that it's mostly kids playing the game. So when he figures out there are younger people on the server, he'll rate them pretty high to put a smile on their face. (HE'S SO SWEET).

"Suo... it didn't even follow the theme." / "But it's quite nice, don't you think?"

You notice that you rank faster when you duo with him. You've been exploiting this little feature.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" / "Huh? Oh, yeah. Haha totally..."

Nirei Akihiko

"OH, this one's good... No, but this one's really good too..."

Nirei is everyone's hypeman: yours, the fashion mavens', the ten year olds who can't follow the theme—literally everyone.

He actually gets better so quickly by observing the outfits of those who win a lot. Like dude is analyzing a whole ass Roblox game. Not that it's intentional—more like it's in his nature.

He falls deep into the DTI rabbit hole. You know because he eagerly waits for updates and hunts for codes on the internet.

"Heyyyy, guess who learned a new code hm?"

His face lights up when you ask him to play... as if he doesn't ask you to play every chance he gets already...

DTI actually becomes his door leading to his descent into the world of Roblox. Seriously, he starts playing more Roblox because you started him with DTI. He also starts asking the other Furin guys to play too.

"Guys, let's do an obby next." / "A what?" / "An obby." / "Again, A WHAT?"

Sugishita Kyotaro

"... I swear I can do better than this..."

This man... this man was even harder to convince compared to Sakura. In fact, you almost gave up. Soooo... you convinced Ume instead (which was easier) and in turn, that forced Sugishita to try it out.

Didn't even ask how it works. He's just reading the text that pops up and goes with the flow.

I'm sorry but... he has the blandest style out of everyone in the main Furin group. Like, he doesn't even try to win AT ALL. But, y'know, A for effort!

"Oh... I have to vote for them?" / "Well, yeah... actually no, just give me 5 stars, okay?"

He plays DTI for a grand total of 3 times, all of which were because Ume asked him to play with the rest of the guys.

He's not much of a gamer to begin with... really, he'd much rather watch you play DTI and see your dramatic reactions to whatever's happening.

Umemiya Hajime

"HAHAHA What's with these silly poses?"

It's like a switch flips in him when he boots up the game and the DTI background song starts playing. He looks waaaaay too happy playing it.

He only started playing because all the hype surrounding it. Ume just wants to be part of the conversation and that's why he tried it out.

Talks way too much in the chat. Usually people just use it to provide more context for their outfits, but Ume actually makes conversation with players there. It's pretty funny to see.

"Look. So many people added me." / "Huh... well ain't that a surprise..."

He almost threw the Ipad out of excitement when he saw that the theme was gardening. He said he had to win or he'd literally die.

A pose 28 spammer, obviously.

"Aw, my game started lagging." / "It's 'cuz you keep spamming poses too fast." / "Dang it."

Hiragi Toma

"I'm not that good at it... okay, maybe just a bit."

He's an old man so bear with him when he tells you that he doesn't even know what a 'Roblox' is. He thought it was a vape flavor by the way.

"So... I have to dress-up and make people vote highly for me?" / "Yeah, it's called Dress to Impress for a reason." / "Oh, yeah. Fair."

He barely tries, but somehow he's kinda good at it? He's not insanely amazing at putting together outfits... but for a guy who's not trying that hard—he's doing pretty well for himself.

But he'll be too embarrassed to admit it. Hiragi would click his tongue and tell you to knock it off once you start complimenting his DTI skills.

He's a bit lost with the Gen Z/Gen Alpha terms, but he's trying to learn—slowly but surely like a little baby lamb learning how to walk.

Will rate you 5 stars no matter what. Everyone else is getting 1 star. Hiragi doesn't care.

"I didn't know you could hit poses here?" / "Yeah, look at this one." / "What the fuck kinda pose is that? Who's doing that on the runway? Bffr." / "Did you just—" / "Told you I'm learning things."

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[ronance4everbrainrot]

Some even even more little descendants incorrect quotes with mostly Glassheart/CharmingHeart

(and other ships)

Chad: Adulting is hard.

Chad: How do I quit?

Chloe: Time travel.

Red: Die.

(sheesh. Also CHAD! HIII)

---

Chad: So you’re dating Chloe?

Red: What? No! I’m just buying them an accessory since they have terrible fashion sense.

Chad: That’s literally a wedding ring.

(To be fair. Maybe they don't have wedding rings in wonderland, and Red is genuinely just buying her accessories. But not because Chloe doesn't have style. She just wants to give Chloe stuff.)

---

Cinderella: Red, when’s your birthday?

Red: Why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my weaknesses? So you can destroy me?

Chloe: …So we know when to wish you a happy birthday.

+

Chloe: You have some serious intimacy issues

(canon)

---

Chloe: You know, I really wish you’d just admit you made a mistake sometimes.

Chad, stirring their coffee: I prefer it with salt.

(he would never admit he's wrong. He'd just word his way around it)

---

Chloe: How stupid do you think I am?!

Dizzy: You really want an honest answer to that?

(Chloe is oblivious to her attraction to Red. Their fighting is actually flirting)

---

Chad: If you don't stop talking, I'm going to jump out of that window.

Chloe: ...We're on the ground floor.

Chad: I know but I want a dramatic exit.

(Go off drama king ✨)

---

Chad: Ow!

Dizzy: What’s wrong?

Chad: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow.

Dizzy: It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

(canon. Also oof)

---

Computer: Please enter a password.

Chad: *types in Chloe*

Computer: Your password is too weak.

Chad: How fucking DARE YOU-

(Slay big brother. He knows what's up)

---

Audrey: Hey!

Chad: What do you want?

Audrey: Remember what we were talking about yesterday?

Chad: Nope.

(Yes king. Stand your ground. keep away from her)

---

Audrey: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done.

Chad: When we were younger, you convinced me eggs weren't real.

Audrey: They're not.

Chad: Haha, very funny.

Audrey: I'm serious. Didn't you hear?

Chad: No... what happened?

Audrey: ...Why would you fall for this again-

(I think that's what they were talking about. And he's mad)

---

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Audrey: Would never stab anyone.

Chloe: Would stab someone in retaliation.

Dizzy: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Celia: Would stab without warning.

Red: Would stab as a warning.

+

Chad: It depends, I guess

(the charming siblings +cousin and their girlfriends)

---

Chloe, singing: I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need—

Red: A family.

Audrey: A better love life.

Celia: Mental stability.

Dizzy: Money

Chad: *clueless* Bagels?

(... yeah-)

---

Chloe: Go to hell!

Red: Where do you think I come from?

(Wonderland basically is Hell with The Queen of Hearts)

---

Dizzy: You got a date yet Celia?

Celia: No...

Dizzy: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

(Slay ✨🙏. Which I had that confidence)

---

Dizzy: Hey Chloe, wanna third wheel on my date with Celia tomorrow?

Chloe: Sure.

Dizzy: Red! Wanna third wheel on my date with Celia tomorrow?

Red: ..sure, I gues-

Dizzy: Great! I've always wanted to go on a double date!

Red & Chloe: ...

Chloe: Dizzy...

(You'll thank her later, Chloe.)

---

Dizzy: I honestly feel like some of our conversations here are almost word-for-word accurate to the generator.

Celia: Yup.

Red: Maybe the generator is watching us.

Chloe: Wouldn't that imply this conversation will be added?

Dizzy: ...

Dizzy: Wait—

(Oh no. They found out! Got to run!)

---

Hope you liked it!

I ship Chad and Audrey as Exes

Also I want Chad and Chloe interactions in the next movie. Would love it if Dizzy was also there.

Anyway

Byeeee

[arc-misadventures]

Behind Lock Doors

Consider this as a prequel to: Not Interested

Fallen Star Hotel: Room 103. 11:31 Pm.

In this room sat two individuals: The fashion icon of, Beacon Academy, Coco Adel, and the wannabe knight, Jaune Arc.

The pair had been out on the town shopping for clothes. Mostly for, Coco that was. Jaune was just giving her his expert opinion for woman’s fashion. The duo had had a rather eventful day, and decided the finish things off with a nice meal, and then head back to, Beacon.

Then disaster struck.

Nora Valkyrie had struck.

After they had finished their food they both started feeling hot under the collar. As they made their way back, a burning desire grew hotter, and hotter within them. Suddenly, Nora had appeared out of thin air, and dragged the pair away. They tried to fight her off, but the burning desire blurred their mind. She shoved the two into a hotel room, she told the pair to have fun before locking the door, and disappeared.

The pair stared at one another before take a spot with their backs to each other on the only bed in the room as a terrible realization dawned on them.

~~~

Jaune: …

Coco: …

Jaune: …

Coco: …

Jaune: …

Coco: J-Jaune…?

Jaune: Yeah…?

Coco: Are you feeling… are you feeling…?

Jaune: Aroused…?

Coco: I was going to say horny, but… yeah that…

Jaune: Yeah… I’m feeling that…

Coco: Why are we feeling like this?!

Jaune: Haaaa… Nora…

Coco: Nora?

Jaune: She spiked our food… w-with… haaa… an a-aphrodisiac.

Coco: She did? H-How can you tell?

Jaune: It the only thing that makes sense… We’re both feeling horny as hell after we ate… and then, Nora shoved us in here, and locked the door. What else could it be…?

Coco: Fuck… that makes perfect sense…

Jaune: She has been questioning me if I had a thing for you… I deflected every time she asked… I don’t think she liked my answer.

Coco: Do you?

Jaune: Do I what?

Coco: Do you… haaa~! L-Like me…?

Jaune: Romantically?

Coco: Yeah… romantically.

Jaune: …

Jaune: I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t interested…

Coco: And, what would you do if I said I was interested too?

Jaune: If you were… I’d probably ask you on a date…

Coco: W-Would today count as a date? We went to the mall, did some shopping, had dinner together, sounds like a date to me.

Jaune: By that logic we’ve been dating for months. But, we never labeled it as a date, just two friends hanging out. It doesn’t count.

Coco: That’s fair…

Jaune: Well… i-if it was a date… it was one hell of a date.

Coco: Until the being drugged part.

Jaune: Yeah… that part…

Coco: …

Coco: Have you ever thought about doing it with me?

Jaune: It? Do you mean… sex…?

Coco: Yeah… sex…

Jaune: …

Jaune: Once, or twice…

Coco: Oh hoho~! Really? Tell me, Bunny Boy… what did you do to me~?

Jaune: Coco… as much as I would love to hear you say scream my name… I do not want to do it because I was drugged! It feels wrong… the thought of it would be a huge turn off me, if it wasn’t the fact the drugged in my system are doing the exact opposite to me!

Coco: That’s… fair…

Jaune: Have you… Have you thought about doing it… w-with me…?

Coco: I may have flicked the bean a few times thinking about you…

Jaune: Oh… thank you…?

Coco: Gods I am so turned on right now! What kind of drug did she spike our food with?!

Jaune: Something aura related.

Coco: How can you tell?

Jaune: I’ve been burning my aura trying to get the drug out of my system. And, well…

Coco: It feels stronger than before?

Jaune: Yeah… It feels way stronger than before…

Coco: Might be, Succubus Tears then…

Jaune: Succubus Tears, the hell is that?

Coco: It’s an aphrodisiac drug that feeds off an individuals aura. We’ll be stuck in a hell of a sex drive until it burns through your system, and some.

Jaune: Fuck… I have massive aura reserves, this is going to take a while… Is there any other way we can kill this buzz?

Coco: Yeah, we could have …

Jaune: Sex?

Coco: Yeah, that.

Jaune: Wait, how do you know what kind of drug it could be?

Coco: I go to the club, I don’t want any fucker spiking my drink. So, I learned what kind of drugs fuckers could spike my drink with.

Jaune: Ahh… another reason to avoid the clubs… Wait, does that mean you know how to deal with these… Succubus Tears? Like should we go to the hospital, and ask them for help?

Coco: Wouldn’t do any good, you have to deplete your aura to get rid of the effects. Even then you’ll have to wait a while for it to wear off.

Jaune: Fuck…! Any other ideas?

Coco: We could screw each other…

Jaune: Not happening.

Coco: Or, one of us can go into the bathroom, and the other stays here, and work it…

Jaune: That won’t work…

Coco: Why not?

Jaune: You’re gonna get yourself off, and I myself. Someones going to make some noise… then someone going to start thinking… and, then were going to do it right on the spot…

Coco: We would be behind a lock door though?

Jaune: First off, I seriously doubt the sound proofing of that door. Secondly, we’re hunters in training; do you seriously think a simple bolt lock, and one inch of wood is going to stop either of us?

Coco: Like hell it will. I could just punch that door, and I’d get in.

Jaune: Yeah, but you wouldn’t do that.

Coco: Why not?

Jaune: Because that’s simple, and lame. You would kick the door down in those high heel boots of yours like a total badass.

Coco: Oh, that is totally the badass thing to do~!

Jaune: I would probably just rip the door of its hinges trying to open it.

Coco: Mmm… that’s hot.

Jaune: Pff… yeah… it kinda is.

Coco: So… what are going to do till this shit wears off.

Jaune: We continue what we’re doing. We sit here, and wait for it to burn off, and plan unholy vengence against, Nora.

Coco: Okay… I’m going to deck her with my hand bag.

Jaune: Ohhh! You trying to kill her?

Coco: At this rate I’m serious planning on it.

Jaune: Fair. I was thinking about tying her to a pole, and baking pancakes in front of her.

Coco: That doesn’t sound so bad.

Jaune: But I was going to burn every one of them.

Coco: Oh! Oh, that’s devious~!

Jaune: My vengeance will be swift, and bloody~!

Coco: Hey, Jaune… can I ask you one question?

Jaune: Depends.

Coco: This is going to bother to hell, and back if I don’t get an answer since I saw it. But, how big are you?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Seven soft, ten and a half hard…

Coco: Nice~!

[relaxxattack]

can you rant abt hiveswap and how it changes the per-established alternian lore and not in a good way. i hold no stake in this topic but i love to hear about worldbuilding differences and people complaining

oh my god i would loveeee too. well first of all the obvious stuff with how they seem to think the beta trolls were the stereotypes for their caste (NOT TRUE... very very untrue but ESPECIALLY untrue with like. jadebloods goldbloods and purplebloods who seem to get this the worst somehow)

i hateeee how they made jades preppy THATS KANAYAS THING.. AND SHES EXPLICITLY *WEIRD* FOR THAT. they literally mention it like over 20 times how kanaya is sooooo weird for liking fashion and dressing well and then. oh no i guess every jade does that actually whoops sorry! ToT and god do i even need to go into the terrible prevalence of the idea that "jadebloods are typically/instinctively nurturing" when that is textually not the case?

goldbloods all having double horns is not that big of a deal tbh but its really funny to me that they made that assumption when sollux is like. actively called a mutant for most of the comic. "oh yeah hes mutated and weird and fucked up and some of his body parts are doubled (cue dick jokes here)". like that was a thing for sollux but they just decided to say "well actually. thats just how all goldbloods are"

most purplebloods having a "clowny aesthetic" is fine with me honestly since theres an actual Profession of being a subjuggalator and presumably lots of purples are going to be wanting to go into that? but alllll of them being full on juggalo cultists goes directly against canon. its like. the difference between american lawmaking and christianity. yes the separation of church and state is like nonexistent here. but just because american lawmaking is an enterprise controlled by christianity doesnt mean that All Politicians/Cops are automatically christian. and definitely not the same kind of christian?? there are probably agnostic clowns, or clowns who are only into cultism for the aesthetic. even reformist vs. orthodox clowns. they may all be upholding the same systemic white christian status quo, but they doesn't mean they all fit into that niche themselves. if that makes sense?

and of course i've already made a whole post about how i hate the idea that olivebloods are all feral little rogues, since that makes very little sense in canon.

i would really love to do that full stream of the hiveswap and friendsim games just. going through all of their alternian stuff and explaining my thoughts on it and how it relates to canon... i could go on and on about this stuff for ages and get into way more than just caste stereotypes. i think i would need to reread all of homestuck first to make sure i wasnt just pulling shit out of my ass and was truly studied up though, lmao

[dukeyeatsdeodorant]

The sides being kidnapped :)

Remus, in a flirty tone: Oh no~ Please don't hurt me mister~

Kidnapper: Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you.

Remus, pouting:...Why not?

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

Roman: You know, some people can pull off wearing all black, you are not one of those people.

Kidnapper: Shut your mouth, you know I could kill you right?

Roman: Right, you're already burning my eyes with your terrible fashion sense. How much is my ransom by the way?

Kidnapper: One thousand dollars.

Roman: Seriously? ONE thousand? I am worth WAY MORE than that! Make it a billion!!

Kidnapper:

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

Logan: This is an extremely stupid decision.

Kidnapper: What?

Logan: Kidnapping me. Why even bother?

Kidnapper: I need the money. Now Quiet.

Logan: Surely there's other ways of income that you know, doesn't involve illegal activity? Like, I don't know. Gaining employment?

Kidnapper: Its not that easy.

Logan: It is. You could take up freelancing, start a youtube channel, sell items you no longer need- *continues to list off ways to earn money*

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

Patton: So, do you have any family?

Kidnapper: Yeah. My mom.

Patton: Ooh! How is she?

Kidnapper: I..I don't know..I haven't called her in months..

Patton: Oh no!

Kidnapper, starting to cry: Y-Yeah..I never noticed how much I missed her..

Patton, had untied himself earlier, walks over to comfort him: Awe, yeah I bet you do!

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

Virgil, panicked silence, staring at him:

Kidnapper:..What?

Virgil, still staring, intensely:

Kidnapper, feeling intimidated: Why are you looking me like that?

Virgil:

Kidnapper:

Virgil:

Kidnapper, untying Virgil:..I'll let you go, you're too creepy man.

Virgil, slowly getting up, he walks up to the Kidnapper and pats him on the shoulder: You're a baby.

Kidnapper:....Yeah.

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

Janus, leaning back, he's untied already: Do you have daddy issues?

Kidnapper: What-

Janus: I can tell you have daddy issues.

Kidnapper: I don't have daddy issues!

Janus, looking him up and down: Right.

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

[thatguywhodoesstuff]

A Fist Full Of J X Thad Incorrect Quotes

(Its been a while since I’ve done one of these, so here’s the sequel to these three posts)

———

(J and Thad are flirting with each other, yet again)

Uzi: And you two are sure you're not dating?

J: 100%.

Thad: Of course not! Why would you think that?

Uzi: (Sarcastically) I wonder why that possibility would even cross my mind, Thad. I fucking wonder.

———

(Playing Twister)

Lizzy: Right hand red.

(Thad tries to place his hand on a red space, only to end up on top of J)

Thad: (Blushing) Uh…

J: (Aggravated and blushing) You're doing this on purpose, aren't you!?

Lizzy: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.

———

J: Come on, V. Nobody actually believes that Thad is in love with me.

V: (To everyone in the classroom) Raise your hand if you think that Thad is helplessly in love with J.

(Everyone, including the Teacher, raises their hand)

J: (Blushing) Thad, put your hand down.

———

J: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Thad: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

J: …You mean ring bearER, right?

Thad: (Eyes hollow) ...

J: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

———

J: Is something burning?

Thad: (Leaning seductively on the counter) Just my desire for you.

J: (Unimpressed) Thad, Uzi is literally on fire.

———

(J asks N for some relationship advice)

J: Can I tell him that he looks nice?

N: Sure.

J: Can I tell him I respect him?

N: Maybe, if he asks.

J: Should I show him an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs?

N: (Taken aback at this) …I’d save that for later.

———

Lizzy: (Teasingly) Ooh, somebody has a crush.

Thad: (He rolls his eyes) Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Person D I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them.

(Later that night)

Thad:��(Wide awake at 3 in the morning) Uh oh.

———

Thad: Did it hurt when you fell-

J: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Thad: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

J: ...

Thad: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

———

Thad: How do I tell J that I want her to yell at me like she’s Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

———

Thad: I think I'm falling for you.

J: (Blankly) Then get up.

———

J: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box.

Uzi: (Not even looking up from what she’s doing) Did Thad say 'I love you' and you said 'Thanks'?

J: (Blushing) THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

———

Thad: I have a lie detector in my shirt.

J: …What? Weirdo. Take it off, then.

Lizzy: (Grinning) Why do you want him to take off his shirt?

J: (Blushing) WHAT- NO I DON’T…

(Thad’s chest starts beeping)

J: (Her blush deepens)

———

N: Who do we know that has handcuffs?

Thad: Well J and I-

J: (Elbows him and shakes her head)

Thad: ...wouldn't know.

———

(J has just managed to save Thad from a collapsing building)

Thad: (Getting up off the ground) Thanks, I owe you one.

J: (Brushing herself off) That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

———

Thad: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

J: Hi, I’m ‘things’~

Thad: (Blushes profusely)

Uzi: (Rolls her eyes) Ugh…

———

J: Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake.

V: (Unimpressed) You are literally making a Valentine’s day card for Thad.

J: (Pointing the hot glue gun towards V) You’re on thin fucking ice.

———

N: Why don’t you go talk to him?

J: (Sarcastically) Oh. Yeah, sure.

Uzi: What? So you go tell him he’s cute, what’s the worst that could happen?

J: He could hear me.

———

N: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”.

Uzi: (Dully looks over at J and Thad) Is it “sexual tension”?

———

Thad: But what about J? She was my SOULMATE!

Lizzy: (Exasperated) You said that about a football once!

———

N: So you’re dating Thad?

J: What? No! I’m just buying him an accessory since he has terrible fashion sense.

V: (Blankly) That’s literally a wedding ring.

———

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 11

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“You're back.” I pointed out the obvious with a warm smile. I was genuinely ecstatic to see him so soon. I just hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about me being in his billiards room.

“I've got some, uh, good news and some terrible news.” He walked slowly in my direction in dramatic fashion. When he approached where I stood he ran his fingers through the hair that fell near my face and maintained the slightest smirk.

“I guess you're supposed to ask for the bad news first, right.” I was just relieved he hadn't asked what I was doing downstairs.

“The bad news is that school got shut down again on my ride in.” He hesitated, looking down and then back up at me. “Body of a another woman was found not far from the first one on campus.”

“What?” I felt my face grow hot and my stomach sank. I hadn’t realized I placed my hand on my cheek until Dr. Miller put a hand over mine. When our fingers entwined I squeezed his hand.

“Were there any details? Is this a serial killer?” I felt a lump form in my throat.

“Nah. You have to knock off a couple more to get that title.” He grew slightly more serious. “But, honestly, I don't think you should be alone - anywhere right now.”

I nodded in agreement. “ Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “What's the good news?”

He smiled and began stripping the tie from his shirt. “I got to come home.. to you.”

I knew I was glowing. There was no sense in trying to hide it. I wasn't embarrassed or coy.

Dr. Miller's kisses would never get old. When he leaned down to touch his lips to mine, I melted into him with closed eyes and a thirst for his touch.

“Let me make you breakfast,” he whispered against my lips before pulling back a few inches.

“I should be making you breakfast.”

He tapped under my chin with his first two fingers. “What kind of host would I be if I allowed that.” Our lips met another time and he wandered around the island while offering me a seat facing a flat top stove.

Dr. Miller removed a pan from a lower cabinet and set it on the island. “After breakfast I'll take you down to check out another floor of the house.”

I swallowed hard and felt my body tense. The blueprint in the H.H. Holmes book immediately came to mind. I got a chill wondering what the maze portion of the house plans were. Without allowing my active imagination to run amuck, I simply nodded in agreement and smiled.

“Okay.”

Did he see me checking out his bookshelf? He has cameras doesn't he? He must have seen me with the blueprint.

Dr. Miller leaned across the way as far as he could. I met him halfway and pecked his lips before he whispered again. “I think you're going to like it.”

…

“Is there anything you can't do?” I asked, wiping the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “This might be the best French toast I've ever had.”

Dr. Miller sat beside me at the oversized kitchen island, smirking as he sipped on his coffee. He turned his body, slightly to face mine.. “My mother has all the best cooking secrets. I thankfully inherited them.”

Despite feeling full, I swirled the last bite around a pool of syrup on the plate and forked the final piece into my mouth.

“You should stay here,” Dr. Miller said, taking the conversation to a one-eighty, drawing my gaze back to his eyes. “Until all this blows over.”

“All what?”

“The murders.”

I felt guilty for letting that colossal event all but slip from my mind. “Oh, yeah.” I shook my head.

“You don't have to, but I would feel better knowing you're here than in a house with no alarm system that anyone could get into if they wanted to.” His eyes could have turned me to stone. They appeared as if they could quite literally pierce my mind and see what was going on inside of my head.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” I wanted to stay. “I’d love to stay.” I smiled, “I feel safe when I'm with you.”

Dr. Miller gave a nod and eyed the floor for a second or two before staring back up. “If this is all too much, let me know. I'm working on not being so demanding.”

“I don't mind that.” I shook my head and continued to look him directly in the eye and rested a hand on his knee. “And it's not too much.”

Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He lifted my hand, squeezing my fingers before placing a single kiss across my knuckles. “Let me show you the lower level.”

“Okay.” I pulled him in for a kiss. I simply couldn't help it. “Mmm.. you taste like syrup.”

Dr. Miller chuckled, sending vibrations across my lips. He stepped down off the high chair and held a hand out to help me down.

“So, you’ll stay?” he asked.

I nodded, “I’d love to.”

“Do you want to take the stairs or the old elevator?” He turned with a smirk, knowing how impressive that must have sounded - not that he needed to do anything else to impress me. That ship had sailed.

“I'll have to go with the old elevator.”

“Come on.” The warmth from his palm as towed me by the hand made me sigh. It was all so new to feel like this and every little touch felt like fireworks, even the innocent ones.

We wandered down a short hallway past another closed door, and hidden in a little nook was the elevator. I would have never guessed that was what it was until Dr. Miller gave a tug on a lever on the wall.

There was some clunking around from behind the wall and then suddenly the noise stopped and he reached for a worn, silver handle by the floor, yanking a rectangular door upward like a garage bay.

I glanced inside the small dark space. In the center of it was a rope that I could tell acted like a pulley system. When I glanced back at Dr. Miller, he nodded toward the opening.

“Get in.”

“In there?” My eyebrows must have raised as high as my hairline.

“We can both fit.”

When I hesitated he winked at me and crouched down to make his way inside. I took a deep breath and followed him. We were only an inch apart; face-to-face. There wasn't much room to move.

“You okay?” Dr. Miller asked.

I nodded, looking down as the floor creaked beneath us. “Is this going to hold our weight?”

“We’ll find out.” He closed the door and pressed a red button on the wall, leaving us with a fiery red glow inside.

The old elevator thrusted me forward, making my body collide with his. He caught me and I looked up at him, partially anxious, partially content. I felt like my emotions were constantly tugging me in different directions.

“Relax.” Dr. Miller held me against him and I felt his chest heave in a deep breath. “We can take the stairs back up later if this bothers you.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent in the darkness as the side of my face pressed against his chest. My anxiety dropped with the gentle stroking of his fingertips down the center of my back.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

We descended to what felt like the center of the earth before the elevator came to a halt. I only separated myself from Dr. Miller in order to let him yank the door upward again. He then motioned with his arm toward the exit.

“After you.”

I let out a deep sigh and stepped out onto white, tiled floors. And then my eyes extended beyond the tiles onto the teal, blue water that sat still in an oversized swimming pool.

Well, this is not what I expected, I thought.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. This wasn't the maze from the blueprint, or some secret room. It was a lavish, indoor swimming pool.

My eyes traveled to a jacuzzi at the far end of the pool as well as a sauna and a clear, see-through shower side-by-side.

When Dr. Miller’s hand touched my shoulder I jumped, making him pull back almost immediately.

I huffed a laugh and put a hand over my chest. “I'm sorry,” I said to him. “The ride down got my heart rate up.”

“I know this is probably a lot.” He nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” I shook my head and looked around. “You've been so generous. My brain just hasn't caught up yet to all of this.” I motioned with my hand around the room and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being.. such a good host.” I smiled. “For making me breakfast.. and taking care of me.”

“You can make it up to me by staying awhile.” He looked down and reached for my hand again.

“I can do that,” I said with a nod, adding, “No work until Monday.”

“And what are we going to do until then?” Dr. Miller's eyes squinted and he smirked when I giggled.

“This really is amazing,” I gushed as we walked beside the pool. “I feel stupid saying this but I feel like I'm in a movie.”

“I know you probably have questions,” he acknowledged, “Like how can I afford all of this.” Dr. Miller's eyes found mine.

“It’s none of my business.” I shook my head.

“I’ll explain,” Dr. Miller assured me, and then added, “One day.”

“Okay.” I nodded and managed a little smile, seeming to ease some of the tension that harbored in the muscles of his neck. It was enough for now. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and his smile grew wider.

“Care for a swim?”

I wanted to, especially with Dr. Miller; but I had an embarrassing confession.

“Yes,” I told him and then eyed the body of water beside where we stood, “But I might have to stay in the low end.”

He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips, “Why’s that?”

“Because I.. I can’t really.. swim.”

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows raised, “You can’t swim?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I always used to just.. doggy paddle.. and then I’d kind of sink.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at my childish revelation, and I giggled right along side him. I gave a shrug and he looked me up and down. Dr. Miller began to undo the rest of his shirt until the center gave a view of his chest. Without warning he reached for the zipper on the gray hoodie he’d given me to wear and slowly let it run down past my breasts toward my belly button before it finally separated down at my hips.

I chewed my bottom lip and swallowed hard as tingles ignited through mg body. I hadn’t put on a bra and he gave an appreciative sigh as he drank in my figure, clearly at least a little surprised that I hadn’t put the undergarment back on. “I can show you how.”

“How to what?��

Dr. Miller pushed a laugh out of his nose and a smile crept on his face. “Swim.” He continued to undress.

“Do you have a bathing suit?” I immediately felt like it was such a stupid question, and my face reddened. He was undressing. Why the hell would I ever want him to put clothes on.

He laughed again, heartier this time as he purposely began to undo the belt on his work pants. “In about thirty seconds I intend for the two of us to take our clothes off, and then not put them back on until Monday morning.”

I opened my mouth to speak and then glanced down as he unzipped the fly of his pants. Coming from anyone else, the line wouldn’t have worked. I probably would have laughed, or thought it was funny to some degree. But, shit, I was way too enticed and attracted to Dr. Miller to even crack a smile - because I knew he was serious. And him being serious would continue to fulfill my ever growing fantasy.

I don’t know why I was suddenly shy. He wasn’t. An aching pulse began to thump between my legs when he freed his heavy, semi-erect cock from his pants. I couldn't look away. A second later Dr. Miller was stepping out of his shoes as his pants fell down to his ankles. He then peeled off his socks and slunk into the pool before resting his arms on the side, staring up at me.

“I promise I’ll go slow,” he teased, looking me in the eye, “We’ll start in the shallow end.”

My heart was racing and I took a deep breath before separating the zip up sweatshirt with my fingertips and letting it fall onto the tile floor beside Dr. Miller’s clothes.

“That’s my girl.”

His girl. I loved that already. I shoved my pants down and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting as I attempted to confidently pace the length of the pool like a runway until I reached the little staircase that descended beneath the water. My heart was racing, moreso with each step. I wasn't at all confident enough to freely walk in my bare skin, especially in front of someone else.

When I reached the far edge of the pool, relief filtered over me. It was like a giant, soothing bath; perfect temperature without a hint of a chill. I let out a sigh as Dr. Miller made his way to me, pulling me into his arms. All anxiety drifted away. All I could focus on was his touch.

I linked my arms around the back of his neck and we kissed a long, deprived-of-each-other kiss as if we hadn’t been in each other’s company for months. He was addicting.

“My life is in your hands,” I whispered, smiling as I did.

“I won’t let you go,” he said quietly back.

Dr. Miller opened up his eyes and kept them open as he pecked my lips once more, before taking my hands and repositioning them so they were on his broad shoulders. I then felt his hands pushing up at my torso just below my breasts so my body was horizontal. He held me firmly in place and began to tread water, edging backwards deeper into the pool.

“Kick your feet,” he encouraged amidst a series of short, choppy breaths, still holding my body for support.

I did as he suggested and fully recognized when we had left the area where I could stand. I huffed a breath, feeling my anxiety climb again and he tried to put the fire out with more encouragement.

“I got you,” Dr. Miller promised again. “Just focus on me and keep kicking.”

“Don’t let me go,” I said, managing a nervous laugh.

“I won’t.” He breathed heavier, the deeper we went but never faltered. I never felt like he wouldn’t be able to keep me afloat.

“Let me know if you’re tired.”

“I’m okay.” Dr. Miller continued to tread backward and I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see how far we’d gotten, but I didn’t. From what I could see of the other side, we were getting close to halfway across the pool.

I breathed in and out, allowing him to lead me safely across. When the other end finally came within an arm’s reach, Dr. Miller planted his back against it and pulled me the rest of the way to him.

My body floated back down so we were both vertical and he placed a hand on my lower back so I pinned him against the side.

“That was a little bit of a rush,” I admitted with a deep breath and a chuckle.

Dr. Miller smiled back. “I’d rather be here teaching you how to swim than teaching the classes down at Woodbridge.” He let out a deep exhale and we kissed again. When he flipped us so my back rested against the side of the pool I giggled a little more freely.

“Well, you got your wish,” I told him, finding his lips again a second later. I felt his intensity heighten as he aggressively penetrated my lips with his tongue as his hand cupped the left side of my buttocks.

“Mmm..” he huffed a breath into my mouth and his eyes were still closed as he spoke, “You have no idea.”

I rested a hand on the side of his face. “Yes, I do.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @amyispxnk @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @readingiskeepingmegoing

[greeneyedsigma]

Luffy: Hey, Zoro! Did you know your my BFFLWYLION?

Zoro: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Luffy: Best Friend For Life Whether You Like It Or Not.

Zoro:

Zoro: That’s one way to say it, I guess…

**

Sanji: So you’re dating Zoro?

Usopp: What? No! I’m just buying him an accessory since he has terrible fashion sense.

Sanji: That’s literally a wedding ring.

**

Sakazuki, when Drake is in danger: *internally screaming* My baby!

Sakazuki: *Externally* This is fine, Drake isn’t a child anymore.

*Two hours later*

Sengoku, eternally exhausted: No, Sakazuki, I’m not going to give you a dynastone to shove down Kaido’s gullet in order to save Rear Admiral Drake.

**

Luffy: We all have our demons.

Usopp, grabbing Zoro: This one’s mine!

**

Zoro: *coughs blood*

Sanji: Don't die, Zoro!

Zoro: Don't tell me what to do!

**

Garp, on Water 7 after Enies Lobby: *full grampa-mode, slipping Luffy a treat* Here, have some chocolate. *holding his finger to his mouth with a grin* Our little secret.

Luffy: Aw, heck yeah!

Ace and Sabo, elsewhere on the Grand Line, suddenly and inexplicably jealous: There’s a disturbance in the force.

**

Chopper, jumping out of Zoro's closet: BOO!

Zoro:

Chopper:

Zoro:

Chopper: *makes a sad face*

Zoro: Ahh! Oh my god! You scared me!

**

Sanji, about Nami: Can I tell her she looks nice?

Usopp: Sure.

Sanji: Can I tell her I respect her?

Usopp: Maybe, if she asks.

Sanji: Should I show her an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs?

Usopp: …

Usopp: I’d save that for later.

[mamirhodessxox]

The Great Gatsby Incorrect Quotes #1

Jordan: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Nick: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

Jordan: The fourth sentence-

Nick: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Jordan: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Y/N: I can't believe you've done this.....

Gatsby: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Y/N, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: The only thing keeping me from running away and hiding from society for the rest of my life is spite. I could disappear forever, but there are some bitches whose downfalls I have yet to witness, and I wanna be around when that happens.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Murderer: Any last words?

Jordan: Do you think I'm cute? Be honest.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Jordan: I have a bad feeling about this, guys.

Y/N: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Gatsby: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?

Jordan, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.

Gatsby: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: So you’re dating Y/N?

Gatsby: What? No! I’m just buying them an accessory since they have terrible fashion sense.

Nick: That’s literally a wedding ring.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: You don't know anything about me!

Nick: I know EVERYTHING about you! You are an open book written for very dumb children!

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: Say no to drugs.

Nick: Say yes to drugs.

Jordan: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: Why are you drinking?

Gatsby: I drink when I'm depressed.

Nick: But you're always drinking?

Gatsby: *smug grin*

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: You know, when I first met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Tom: What changed your mind?

Nick: Oh, now I know that you’re a fake bitch. Why do you ask?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

*Gatsby comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Y/N’s bedroom.*

Y/N: Babe, are you.. coming to bed?

Gatsby: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend.

Gatsby: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep*

Y/N: ...

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Gatsby: You’re too young to have enemies.

Nick: You don’t even know.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: *sneaking in through their window*

Y/N: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Tom: I was with Daisy?

Daisy: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: Tom has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them.

Daisy: That can't be true!

Nick: Watch this.

Nick: Hey Tom, race you to the bottom of the stairs!

Tom: *Throws themself out a window*

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

Nick: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Tom: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

Nick: Somehow that's worse.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: They say that the most valuable things cost nothing.

Y/N: They also say that being cheap is an annoying trait, so don’t overuse that excuse.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Y/N: Come on, Nick. Nobody actually believes that Gatsby is in love with me.

Nick, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Gatsby is helplessly in love with Y/N

*Everyone raises their hand*

Y/N: Gatsby, put your hand down.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Daisy: What did Tom do this time?

Nick: More like WHO did Tom do this time?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep?

Y/N: Yes?

Gatsby: We’re in too deep.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @valkyrurx @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf

[ckret2]

Chapter 69 (lol) of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'm not about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip—had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[fivelila]

Do you think Five would have accepted it if Lila proposed to have an affair while staying with Diego (after returning) and not telling Diego about anything that happened?

Wau... I have to say, I've been getting some really interesting questions lately. Sometimes it makes me think about things that never occurred to me before.

But back to the question, I think he'd be taken aback by such an offer from Lila and actually quite hurt by it.

He loved Lila deeply and spent seven years with her with no other people. Plus, he's a damn romantic, so I don't think he'd want to share her with Diego. And that he would want to just be her secret affair. Also, it was obvious that Five was jealous when he saw her next to Diego. And when he thought Lila had ended things between them (when she wanted to end the argument) he immediately left. I think for him the options were "you want me and I'm all yours" or "you don't want me and I can't stay" precisely because he couldn't see Lila next to Diego again.

I think Five is the kind of man who wants his wife all to himself (not in some toxic sense) and I also think he wouldn't want to lie to Diego about it (yeah, he probably didn't want to talk about it right away, but I'm sure he wouldn't want to keep it a secret for a long time either). Five in 4x01 said something about being glad he didn't get married, that it involved a lot of deception. I don't think Five is a man who likes to lie. On the contrary, he can be painfully honest.

But… maybe the situation would be different, if Lila just wanted time to sort things out. But certainly not to have an intimate and romantic relationship with both of them. I just don't believe that. And honestly, it would probably make Lila really fall in my eyes if that scene was there. I'm probably being terribly old-fashioned about this, sorry.

[jess-the-vampire]

You have mentioned at some point you're not sure about Philip ever having a love interest, right? Is he like aro ace in you au or something else? I have seen a lot of people who either ship him as aro ace or gay.

i've honestly never really confirmed his sexuality in the au, i don't think i've really been sure of what best suits him, at least in my work, and to be fair if i were to try and add romance in the au with him i'd probably worry about it being taken out of context if it were with another canon character.

Because let's be fair here, people absolutely take my au out of context and if people are willing to openly complain to me about philip and hunter's relationship being less abusive despite the fact this is a swap au at the end of the day and it makes sense to make philip less terrible for that concept to work....there's no way people won't make a bit of a stink if i tried shipping him in my au as well.

i'm sure the fact i don't personally ship philip with anyone in the actual show probably also adds to why there's never been a proper love interest in the au. You can def interpret terra as a love interest but it's unlikely to go anywhere, for a number of reasons in this au.

all sexuality headcanons for philip are valid to me, and personally i'm of the opinion that he is queer in some fashion, both because i think it adds more to this character, and that i don't quite like the mindset that all villians like him can only be cishet. Philip being a repressed outcast who self destructs because of gravesfield and trying to live up to their standards and further hurting himself is a more intriguing concept to me and i think even gives him a further interesting parallel to luz.

(yeah, fun fact for those who don't chat with a lot of people who enjoy belos's character, most of his fans headcanon he's queer, i guess the man radiates it)

but yeah, even with that in mind, i have not been sure of what sexuality to actually give him, so i've been dancing around the subject ever since.

A lot of people pick aroace as mentioned, some pick gay, i'm fond of both those interpretations (Though i am not fond of people making him aroace JUST because he's evil and they don't want him with anyone, please don't do that), i've just had some rough patches on this version of him regarding that part.

he is queer tho, at the very least in this au.

[kyasemi]

Murder Drones Incorrect Quotes

N: Now, Uzi, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay?

V: Expect for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: So… who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon?

Uzi: We’re chopsticks!

N: Well… that’s cute!

N: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?

V: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Go and tell V why you insisted on putting a normal-sized carrot in a bag of baby carrots.

N: It’s because they need adult supervision!

V:

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

V: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before

N: 

N: *sobs*

Uzi: You fucking scared them, you idiot.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Why were you up yesterday until 3am?

N: How did you know I was up until 3am?

V: We could hear you clapping to the FRIENDS intro every 25 minutes.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: *pretending to joke* So when are you going to go out with me?

N: I don’t know. When are you going to ask me to?

*the next day*

V: And you just ran away?!

Uzi: I didn’t expect them to flirt back!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Don’t worry, I’ve got a few knives up my sleeve.

V: I think you mean cards.

N: They did not.

Uzi, pulling out knives: I did not.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: Oh, so you two are getting along very… cordial now?

V: Cordial? Nah, we’re friends.

N: Friends?

V: Yeah. After you stopped us fighting, we got to talking. Seems like we have some common interests.

Uzi: We both love butterflies.

N: Aww–

Uzi: And beating people up.

N: Oh, okay.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: The ritual. To preform it requires a sacrifice.

V: Sacrifice? I nominate Uzi.

Uzi: Wait, what?

V: Because you’re little, you’ll fit on a barbecue.

Uzi: I’m 5’9, it’s like average height in most of the world!

N: It’s not that kind of sacrifice guys!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Where are you going?

N: To get MYSELF a gift cause somebody didn’t get me one!

Uzi: I told you I did! It’s coming here on Friday!

V, knowing full well that Uzi got N an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

V: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.

N: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.

V: Not when you’re playing with Uzi, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog”.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: So, what is V to you?

Uzi: The reason I wake up every morning.

N: …that’s adorable.

V earlier that morning, barging into Uzi’s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N: Guys it’s a shooting star, let’s make a wish!

Uzi: I wish for good grades.

V: Nerd.

Uzi: Nevermind, I wish upon the shooting star to fall down at a 30 degree velocity aiming for V :).

N: Uzi…

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Come on, V. Nobody actually believes that N is in love with me.

V, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that N is helplessly in love with Uzi.

*Everyone raises their hand*

Uzi: N, put your hand down

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

V: So you’re dating N?

Uzi: What? No! I’m just buying them an accessory since they have terrible fashion sense.

V: That’s literally a wedding ring.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Lizzy: If I were a drink, I’d be Cherry Vanilla Coke. If you were a drink, what would you be?

Uzi: Bleach.

V: Sewage.

Lizzy: …please calm down, edgelords.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

N, about Uzi: Can I tell them they look nice? 

V: Sure. 

N: Can I tell them I respect them? 

V: Maybe, if they ask. 

N: Should I show them an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs? 

V: … 

V: I’d save that for later.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi, to N: I mean, I get complimented all the time- 

V: *starts cackling* 

Uzi: I do! 

V: *laughs harder*

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

*The Squad is gathered in the living room for a meeting* 

Uzi: *walks in and sits on N’s lap* 

The Squad: … 

V: Why are you sitting there? 

Uzi: There’s no free seats! 

V: But we made sure there was enough room for- 

N: *hugs Uzi tightly* There are no free seats.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi, holding out a cookie for N: Look! This ones a heart, that’s how I feel about you! 

N: *Ugly crying* 

Uzi, holding out another cookie for V: This ones like Michigan, that’s how I feel about you! 

V, throwing their hands in the air: What does that mean?!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

V, watching N do something stupid: Uzi, you're officially only the second highest risk here. 

Uzi: Hell yeah! I'm gonna— 

V: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

V: Comparing Uzi and N is like comparing apples and oranges.

N: We’re both unique in our own ways?

V: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

Uzi: Which one of us is the orange?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Uzi: Okay, what does A stand for?

N: Arson.

Uzi: Aw, you’re so good. Okay! What does B stand for?

N: Barson.

V: *cackling*

Uzi: What stands for C?

N: Commit arson.

V: Oooo. Uzi: D!

N: Don’t come near me, I’m going to commit arson.

V: *more cackling*