#the sounds seem good as well but i only heard the yellow ones and i didnt listen to the full mix so

[small-spark-of-light]

BACK TO WHITEBOARD GAMERS!!!!

Eden(the blue skrunkly in the last photo) belongs to victheclown

[moonstruckme]

hi dove! could you maybe do reader falls too deep into subspace with poly!marauders? I would love to see it:)

Thank you!! ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely! I tried lol

cw: smut mdni, d/s dynamics, subspace (I know next to nothing about this and I'm pretty sure it shows)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Remus first takes notice when Sirius digs his fingernails into your hip and you don’t do more than whimper. Your cheek is pressed into the mattress, face turned towards him but eyes somewhere else, and the soft sounds you’re making can barely be heard over the slapping of Sirius’ hips against your ass or Remus’ against James’. 

Remus slows a bit, brushing a reassuring touch against James’ backside when he turns his head to see what’s up. The sheets underneath your bum are stained dark with cum—yours and Sirius’ and also James’ from earlier—and your pussy is swollen and gleaming. Sirius’ cock slides in and out of your overworked folds with little resistance. 

“Y’alright, dove?” he asks. 

It takes your gaze a minute to find him. Even when it does, it looks strangely unfamiliar. Glazed. 

“Mm-hm.” Your response is fragmented by Sirius rocking you forward, but the other boy eases up at the dopey quality to your voice. 

“What’s your color?” he asks lightly. 

You only make a pained mewling sound at his slowing inside you. Then he stills entirely, and you look crestfallen. James adjusts his stance by the bed, trying to get you to look him in the eye. 

“Yellow?” Sirius’ voice has gone gentle, edged with a bit of worry. He soothes a hand up your side. “Do you remember your words, pretty girl?” 

You ought to, Remus thinks, you’d all run through them before starting. But you only blink obliviously. Remus hums. He touches James’ back in warning before slipping out of him and going to your side. 

“Alright, you’re done now,” he says gently, slipping a hand underneath your face. You close your eyes into the touch, and his words don’t seem to register until Sirius starts pulling out. 

You whimper, and Remus knows by the way Sirius echoes the sound that you’ve tightened possessively around his cock. He murmurs an admonishment, setting his other hand on the curve of your spine to still you.

“Fuck, baby.” Sirius’ voice is strained, but he manages to slip the rest of the way out of you despite the garbled protests you’re mumbling against Remus’ palm. “Take it easy, yeah? We’re finished for today.” 

You shake your head obstinately, keeping your bum up and legs spread for him. “Didn’t even make you cum,” you whine. 

“You made him cum plenty, sweetheart,” James laughs, crawling over on the bed. He grabs your waist in both hands, using one knee to knock both of yours out from under you and gently turning you onto your back. His big palm settles over the naked skin of your navel. “I think we’ve all cum enough tonight to last us a month at least, don’t you?” 

Your boyfriend’s humorous tone goes right over your head. Your eyes fill with tears, and Sirius coos as one spills out onto your cheek. 

“I just wanna be good,” you choke out as he wipes it away.

James and Remus exchange a worried look. Sirius lies down next to you, taking your face in hand and kissing your cheek. 

“You were amazing, doll, I promise. We’re just resting now, okay?” 

Your pouting doesn’t lessen, but you seem more appeased by this explanation than the others and quiet down. Remus steps out of the room. 

When he comes back a minute later, Sirius is still murmuring to you about how well you did while James uses one hand to work out the taut muscles in your thigh. You’re looking more relaxed than you had when he left, the evidence of tears vanished from your face, but still markedly out of it. 

“How are you feeling, dove?” Remus asks, kneeling by your legs. 

James takes this cue to tug you up further on his chest, hooking one of your knees over his thigh to spread you open for Remus. You whimper softly as your sensitive cunt is exposed to the cool air. 

“M’okay,” you reply unsteadily. 

“Yeah? Feeling a bit more back to normal?” You look at him bemusedly, and Remus sighs, stroking the inside of your thigh. “That’s alright. I’m gonna clean you up a bit, okay?” 

He doesn’t wait for a response before swiping the warm washcloth over your folds. Predictably, you mewl and squirm away from him, wriggling in James’ hold. James rubs your stomach in an attempt at placating you, murmuring reassurances into your temple while Sirius leans down to hold your other leg open. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart, we’ve got you. You’re gonna feel so much better once you’re clean, you know? Gotta come back to yourself for us.” 

Remus makes quick and gentle work of it, tossing the cloth into your laundry bin before grabbing the rest of the supplies he’d picked up and crawling up onto the bed beside you. You blink when he comes into view, your gaze clearing like you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“Hi,” you say. 

“Hi, there,” he replies softly. “Will you have some water for me, please?” 

You’re too obedient in this state to question him. James scoots back up against the pillows, situating you between his legs so you’re propped up against him when you take the cup of water from Remus. His brown eyes are worried and watchful as you take in greedy mouthfuls, throat bobbing with every gulp. 

“Jesus, babe.” Sirius swipes under your chin when you finish, catching a stray droplet. “Are you still thirsty?” 

“I…don’t think so.” Your voice sounds dazed, but there’s more thought behind your words now. Hope inflates like a balloon in Remus’ chest. 

Sirius seems to catch your growing acuity too. He leans forward for a better view of your expression, asking carefully, “You feeling sore, pretty girl? Anything hurting you?” 

“No,” you reply, too quickly for Sirius’ liking. 

He tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Are you lying to me?” 

Your eyes start to cloud over, and Remus gives Sirius’ shoulder a light shove. “Don’t mess around with her,” he chides. 

Sirius frowns, realizing his mistake too late. “She knows I’m only asking,” he says, taking you by the chin and angling your face towards him despite James’ anxious look. “Don’t you, doll?” 

“I don’t think she does just this minute,” James says gently. He smooths a hand over your collarbone in an attempt to ground you. 

Remus helps. “Have some chocolate,” he tells you, breaking a small piece off a bar and holding it out to you. 

Your mouth pinches thoughtfully. “I don’t…I’m not hungry.” You sound uncertain. 

He thinks he sees James’ chest sink a bit as he exhales in relief. 

“That’s alright,” Remus says encouragingly. “Would you mind having just a little bit for me? It’s more to make you feel better than anything else.” 

You take the chocolate from him without a word, snuggling back into James as you munch on it slowly, letting it get all warm and melty in your mouth. Your boyfriends monitor you with varying degrees of openness, Sirius playing with your fingers and sneaking glances at your expression while James watches you unabashedly, brows still puckered with worry above the bridge of his glasses. 

When you start to look like you might fall asleep, Remus decides to ask you outright. 

“Are you feeling back to yourself, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, thoroughly drained, “I think so. Sorry.” 

“Oh, thank god.” James tips his forehead against the side of your head. Remus can see his breath moving your baby hairs. “You don’t have to be sorry, angel, but it was scary, you know?” 

“Fucking yeah it was,” Sirius agrees. “You know your safe words now, baby?” You nod, and he presses on. “You sure nothing hurts? Was I being too rough with you?” 

Realization dawns upon Remus a second before it seems to hit you, surprise and guilt melding your features. 

“No,” you say, moving your hand so that it’s holding his and not the other way around. “No, I’m fine.” 

“You can tell me if I was,” Sirius urges softly. 

A tiny sound leaves Remus’ mouth unbidden, and James lets you go as you lean over to Sirius, kissing his cheek. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you promise him. “I don’t know what happened. I just had a little too much fun, I guess, but it wasn’t you.” 

“Alright,” he sighs, working a hand behind your ear to return your affections. His lips mark a path up the side of your face, unusually careful. “Okay, thanks.” 

You shift over to squish between him and James. When you meet Remus’ eyes, the fondness in them is clear and unmuddled. 

“I can’t believe you let me have some of your chocolate,” you say, a smile curling your lips. 

Remus rolls his eyes, and James pokes him with a foot. “I know, right? That’s how you really know he was panicking.” 

“I read once that it helps,” Remus says, moodily enough that you and James laugh and Sirius coos, leaning forward to tug him into your pile. He feigns reluctance but goes, pulling Sirius’ legs across his lap. “Fine, give it back.” You pass Remus the chocolate with an amused smile. He has to keep the corners of his mouth intentionally downturnt to avoid returning it. “Last time I share with any of you.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 1/2

Chapter 10 : Calling from Hell just to say the demons are suspiciously absent, is that fine?

masterpost

“Fucking Batman,” Val said under her breath. Her Red Huntress mask muffled the words and made them come out even meaner than she probably meant them. “Years late and too little, even if he’s not working with the GIW.”

Sam hefted her requisitioned Fenton bazooka and pressed her lips even further together. None of them liked this at all. It stank. It was suspicious. Danny hadn’t sounded distressed, but he’d been out of contact too long for such a short conversation to put her at ease. There hadn’t even been time to update him on what had gone on in Amity Park.

“There.” Sam followed Val’s pointer finger to see the nearly invisible outline of a jet in the faint light. It was landing in the right field. 

“It’s them or it’s a trap,” Sam muttered.

Val let out a mean laugh. “If it’s someone we don’t expect, they’re the ones in trouble.”

Sam huffed and said nothing. She couldn’t disagree, but Val seemed too confident for her comfort. They waited in tense silence to see the jet come to a landing. Not long after, a hatch popped open and the distinctive ears of Batman himself were the first out into the cold night air of a January night in Amity Park. 

He was quickly followed by smaller figures- 1, 2, 3 of them. Sam felt nerves churning in her gut. She tried to channel them into aggression. She had to be tough, tougher than usual. There was no cavalry waiting to help out.

Well, there was Tucker, but he was probably going to be more useful in the wings to feed them information. He was pretty good aim with a thermos but that wouldn’t do jack about Batman and a small flock of, what, junior associates?

“Does Batman work with children?” Sam asked under her breath. One of them was genuinely small.

Tucker snickered on the other end of the line. “Uh,  there’s supposed to be a Robin. Guy in yellow, green, and red I guess? Aside from that, there’s debatably like, 6 former Robins associated with him. But there’s also the Justice League’s junior varsity team, so it’s hard to say.”

She frowned at the lineup. She saw purple, black, and red. There was- yeah, okay, there was quite a bit of yellow when the little guy faced them, but she didn’t see any green.

“Showtime,” Val said. Sam crouched further behind cover as the other girl zoomed out on her hoverboard, effortlessly drawing Batman’s eye. She adjusted the dial on her sound settings to hear Val’s feed just a little louder.

“Batman.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Sam cringed at the gravely voice over her sound system. Batman sounded like he smoked a pack a day. She turned the volume down just a hint.

“Not really, there’s four of you,” Val said breezily. Sam suppressed a snort at the dodge. “You wanna meet Jazz Fenton? You’re going to have to prove that you’re not a plant. There’s a GIW facility-”

“Two miles west of here, yes,” Batman interrupted. “I researched.”

“Great. Do you have ground transport?”

“Of course. What is it that you expect me to prove?”

“That you’re not with them.” The subtle whine of Valerie’s weapons started up. Sam only heard it because she was hooked up to the helmet. “They do experimentation and keep prisoners. Show me that you’re not a cop.”

“The police would not support the capture and abuse of people.”

Valerie made a skeptical sound in the back of her throat. Sam couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, but they do.” Her hoverboard’s jet whooshed up in power. “Meet me there, outside the main gate.” She was off like a shot in the dark. 

The four out of towners didn’t take long to get four silent motorcycles out and dash down the lane. Sam thought about what she’d heard as she cut a more direct route on Valerie’s spare hoverboard, taken from Vlad’s deserted mechanics lab. 

Either Batman was a liar, naive, or he was exactly what they were worried he might be. The Justice League was famously affiliated with governments. Wonder Woman was even a member of the United Nations! If someone accepted the claim that Infinite Realms Residents weren’t really people, then they’d say just what Batman had. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t think the people you were hurting were really people.

Sam watched from a distance as the group reached the gated facility. One of Batman's people did something that unlatched the electronic security system. It swung open. 

“Not shabby,” Tucker said quietly. “I coulda done it faster.”

“Not unless it goes off the rails,” Sam reminded him. She clenched a fist against her thigh. They needed to see Batman's real colors before they risked him knowing about their group. It was hard to outplan what you didn't know about, and they'd need every advantage they could get. 

She let them all go ahead before she followed onto the property. It was eerily deserted, tire tracks where dozens of white Vans ought to have been. 

The GIW had deserted Amity Park weeks ago. They were pretty sure there was a skeleton crew stationed out here, but no one came and left anymore. They only occasionally saw an agent wander across the path of a security camera, which were sparse inside the building.

But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous to be here. Even now, a camera swiveled over the lawn, blinking a clear light that was easy to miss during the day. There was a reason that they hadn't risked a second raid after Danny had barely made it out last time. 

Sam swallowed, hard. The bitterness in her mouth felt a lot like guilt. Who knew what the GIW had been doing? They could have someone else held captive. It was a big building. Danny might have missed someone when he was breaking Vlad out. 

‘We did what we could, and we are making a move now.’ 

She repositioned her weapon and waited, tense with nerves. All she was meant to do now was follow along via what she heard on Val's comms and be in the wings to facilitate an escape, if needed. 

“Left,” said Batman quietly. The comms were quiet for a long moment, then- “clear. Clear. Clear.” 

Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Red Robin.” 

“Got it,” came a response, barely audible. Val must have been hanging close to Batman, then. 

“You think now's a good time to try their computers?” Val said helpfully. 

Tucker snorted. “Could just ask,” he sang to himself, cocky as hell. “I know all.”

Sam rolled her eyes. He didn't know all. About half of the property was disconnected from the security system, meaning they had no eyes on whatever was down there. 

“Six stationed here.” 

That had to be Red Robin’s voice. Sam cocked her head and focused on it, frowning slightly. Did it sound young?

Tucker's computer chair made a click when he sat up too fast. “Wait, what? How'd-” His end of the line devolved into rapid typing. 

“Did you find a schedule?” 

“No, it's not in the system. They're on paper, I suppose.” Seconds passed. “My bet is that labs would be in this wing.” 

“Be my guest,” Val drawled. Sam could all but see her crossing her arms across her chest. 

The line went silent for a while. Then, faintly, there came the sound of a metal door opening. 

“Fu-” A GIW blaster went off. “Intru-”

The alarm was cut off before the GIW goon got out a full word, but odds were good he'd been heard anyway. Sam flexed her hands. Sitting this out sucked. She wanted to see what was happening. How many agents were there?

“Robin!” Batman snapped. 

‘The little one?’

Sam felt vaguely ill. They had to be okay. This was Batman’s team.

[amymbona]

idk if this is gonna make sense but do yk the game twister? like with the colourful mat and you always end up tangled with each other?

so hear me out- you and art are playing together with patrick being the person that spins and tells you guys where to move.. but instead hes just trying to put you guys into sexual positions since he knows art has a fat crush on you😵‍💫

just ends in either you teasing art while playing or patrick getting you guys to fuck eventually (like making up his own rules - if you fall you take off a piece of clothing - etc.)

I RLLY HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE IM SORRY ITS KINDA LONG

FUUUUCK USER YOU'RE A GENIUS.

You're genuinely so into the game, and end up squatting with your arms crossed in front of you, while Art's face is like directly behind your ass. He can see the lace of your panties where your shirt rode up with the stretch of your back and he has to physically resist the urge to kiss the soft skin there.

Patrick, seeing it all, smirks and spins the wheel, but completely ignores whatever it lands on. "Right hand on green, Art."

"Oh, okay," Art gasps with almost child like innocence, searching for the right spot. And the only suitable one seems to be on the front of your own hand.

So he does the only possible thing, extending his right arm to place his palm on the green circle, completely enveloping you from the top. His chest presses into your back and you catch the tiniest hint of his boner pressing into your ass.

"Left foot on yellow, Y/N," Patrick commands, not even bothering to spin the wheel.

You try to do so, the top of your head bumping into Art's chin, and your back practically molds against his chest as you extend your left leg behind yourself. "Fuck, I'm gonna fall."

"Just hold it, Y/N, don't be a pussy," Patrick mutters with a roll of his eyes, loving the way you two are pressed together. "Ready for another round, Art?"

Eventually, the two of you end up tangled in a mess, limbs intertwined. At one point, your crotches rub together, like really really hard and Art thinks he might cum right there. Luckily for him, your legs give up under you and you fall straight on your bum, complaining about a lost game.

The boys know how much of a competitive girl you are, and evening something as simple as twisted is able to ignite the fire that burns on your heart. And the good friend Patrick is, he decides to give you another chance to prove yourself.

"How about a new rule, hm? If you fall, take something off," he offers, crossing one leg over the other were he's sitting. "We can continue until you're both naked."

He's an asshole, a proper fucking asshole. But Art makes sure to get on his knees and thank him next time when they're alone, because - fuck - the moment your bare boobs bounce in front of his face is like seeing a real angel descend from the sky. He's almost naked as well, just in his boxers now, his boner very much waving hello at you.

The positions you end in are even more awkward. At one point, Art end up on all fours, but in the other way, so his bum is just barely lifted off of the ground, with you hovering above him, legs spread on either side of his head. His cock is throbbing in his pants and his eyes are so wide at the sight of a wet pool of arousal soaking through the pink cotton of your panties.

"Art," Patrick hums, an amused expression on his face as he keeps studying the scene in front of him. "Mouth on pink."

Art's eyes snap towards his friend. "What?"

It's obvious what Patrick is referencing. And he's so fucking proud of himself for it. "You heard me, man."

"C'mon, Art," you almost whine impatiently, wiggling above him. Your full thighs jiggle and Art has a back time holding back a moan.

"Oh- okay," he swallows heavily, with a hesitant nod pressing his lips to the pink cotton of your panties. A breathy moan is heard above him, such a calm sound.

Art really can't help himself. He can't wait for any other instruction from his friend, he can't even hold himself back now that his face is smushed against your arousal. He licks a thick stripe and sucks in the sticky wetness that has soaked through the fabric, slowly losing himself in the sweet taste. Patrick chuckles at the eagerness and you do too, but with much less harshness. The sound is almost sweet, caressing Art's fluffy, fuzzy brain and encouraging him to keep going.

"Left foot on green."

Patrick announces and Art feels your thighs squeeze tighter around his head as you reposition yourself. His whole head is buried in your lap, the tip of his nose rubbing little circles over your clit as he breathes in the moisture. Little beads of sweat glisten on his pink cheeks, the feel of your plush skin against his ears making him feel like he's drowning. Like he can't breathe.

"Mhm, Art," you moan above him, grinding your pelvis down to meet him halfway. By now, his lips are fully latched onto your cunt, suctioning it into his mouth and sucking and sucking and sucking.

Locked in the awkward position, his hands and feet somehow remain within the colourful circles, and so do yours. It's almost admirable how you manage to stay unmoving, only the subtle grind of your hips and nodding friction of Art's head happening.

The smug bastard Patrick is, he's enjoying the whole thing, the sight something so beautiful and downright pornographic. He's almost tempted to whip out his phone and record the two of you, because he's sure there's not a single video like this on the hub. That could be a hit!

But he's not that much of a bitch. So all he does it palm his dick and dost it through his pants, the sight of his best friend's angel curls drowning between your plush thighs being just enough to get him hard.

[agatharkn3ss]

Agatha's info/rumours

I thought I'd pull together all the info we've been shown in ep.6 and add my interpretation to it. I still can't believe that Billy read these short bits and claimed he knew an "egregious" amount about Agatha.

As usual, biased towards Agathario, because I think they are heavily implying Agatha's connection to Death (I mean yes, the writers could just be trying to explain why the internet would be so invested in her identity, but still)

First of all - "333 partial results for Agatha Harkness Ancient Witch". I love yet another allusion to how Agatha is linked with number 3, making her the actual harbinger of doom (I explain this here).

It's interesting that the related questions are all about the immortality of the witches:

Are witches immortal?

Do real witches ever die?

How do you kill a witch?

How old is the oldest witch?

If we didn't have other super-old witches in the show, it would make me wonder if Agatha didn't make some sort of pact with Death (Rio), where she provides "bodies" to her in exchange for her long life. But as it is, we have Lilia as 450+ years old and Jen is also older than a century, but you don't see them trying to kill people (I think).

The very first search result is quite fun:

"The Macabre Wiki – a comprehensive encyclopaedia of all things that only come out after dark. Created by two blood witched from Salem"

No matter what, I will forever believe this is Agatha and Rio's page. (for reasons explained here)

The rest of the search results are not as exciting:

Witchy Resource – Ancient witches and ancient warlocks are not well documented traditionally and usually for good reason…

Witches and Aging – Apparently, witches are able to chose how they age and present themselves to humans. Some withes choose to stop again at a certain point staying roughly 30 years old visually for literally hundreds of years.

Dreadit – Salem Witch Trials – Recently I’ve been researching a ton on the SWT and not many people know this but there are reports of witches that actually survived burning and drowning

The Art of the Ancients – Learn about the secret art of witchcraft and the witches that have [...]

So this suggests Agatha specifically chose her look and age. Neat. Quite empowering really.

Also, another suggestion that some witches can be immortal and survive burning and drowning. I wonder if we will see this in the show - Agatha and Rio having absolute blast at mocking people who were trying to torture/kill Agatha, only to realise she wasn't feeling any pain, she would just raise and shout "Surprise witches!".

Then we go onto the Salem Witch Trials page. This pretty much confirms what we already know about them. I immediately clocked how all the handles only have green or purple colours... Coincidence? I've not tried to decipher the names, but if anyone has any suggestions, let me know!

witchygirlblack: Did any witches survive the Salem witch trials? Are they still alive? Where are they? Witches can live for hundreds of years, so the ones that survived the trials might still be out there [] witchkraft dreadit, you must know of some?

4thlevelwarlock: The Salemites, Evanora Harkness’s coven, were prominent in the area. I’ve heard rumours [...]the young children from the coven escaped

SamSamwitch: @4thlevelwarlock look familiar? [Agatha image link]

BoftheEast: be careful posting about her just saying

Then Billy takes the photo through reverse image search. I know these are tiny, inconsequential details but I still love them:

"Looky" sounds like a little nod to Lilia's "kooky"

The letters “o” have moons inside of them.

Each letter has different colour that seems to align with the witches – light blue (Jan - water trial?), purple (Agatha - spirit), yellow (Lilia - air), dark blue (Billy?), orange (Alice – fire)

This search then leads to a number of events that Agatha has been spotted at. Rather than pull out the quotes, I'm going to put the events in a chronological order and add relevant background info:

Salem Witch Trials (1692-1693) - this was a series of hearings and prosecutions of people accused of witchcraft in colonial Massachusetts. More than 200 people were accused. It was the deadliest witch hunt in the history of colonial North America. This is the time where Agatha's mother and her coven try to "punish" her for using "the darkest of magic". Her fingers weren't black, so she's unlikely to have had Darkhold back then. (btw the script for this suggests Agatha was 18 at the time, so she was born ~1675, making her ~351 years old in 2026)

The Eastern Seaboard - Although we don't know the exact dates, there are "unconfirmed reports of Agatha traveling the Eastern Seaboard". This could relate to various areas but this is likely just referring to the US East Coast. The Thirteen Colonies, which formed the United States in 1776 were located on this coast, playing an important role in the development of the United States.

The sinking of the Titanic (1912) - the British ocean liner sank as a result of striking an iceberg on her maiden voyage from Southampton, England, to New York City, US. Of the estimated 2,224 passengers and crew aboard, approximately 1,500 died. Agatha is listed as one of the survivors

The Hindenburg disaster (1937) - a German commercial passenger airship caught fire and was destroyed during its attempt to dock at Lakehurst, New Jersey, on its journey from Frankfurt, Germany. The accident caused 35 fatalities among the 97 people on board, and an additional fatality on the ground. The publicity shattered public confidence in the giant, passenger-carrying rigid airship and marked the abrupt end of the airship era. Again, Agatha is spotted as a woman who "survived the explosion then disappeared"

"Jolene" (1972-1973) - The headline states "Does this 1972 Surveillance photo of Dolly Parton show the real Jolene?" and Jac Schaeffer confirmed that yes, Agatha = Jolene. So I had some fun with this, because why not?! I wondered what Agatha's play would've been here. Is she truly after Dolly's "man" - if so, in what way? Or is she after Dolly herself? Note that although the article says 1972, later on we also see statement that Agatha was last seen in Nashville Tennessee, 1973. Now - that year in Nashville, Dolly not only recorded "Jolene" in May, but a month later she also recorded "I will always love you" - a song that is widely understood to be a goodbye song to her business partner because she decided to pursue solo career. In my head this is all a result of Agatha's influence, who showed Dolly her real power.

On that note, I don't think we would be far off assuming that as Agatha kept Dolly (or her man) her company, she would've actually come across Lorna Wu herself? We know it was similar time, because "The Ballad of the Witches Road" record was made in 1978. Alice mentions how she got her tattoo in Colorado as her mum was playing at the Red Rocks amphitheatre. Dolly Parton also performed at the Red Rocks in 1972 (the same year as the camera footage), so Agatha could've been there...

Finally, we get to the "brujapedia" - the encyclopaedia of witches. It's fun to speculate who could be running this page - the whole theme is black and white, with red highlights. There is also an image of a raven - as I discussed it before, it is a symbol of bridging the world of life and death. So it would be fun if it was Death herself maintaining it, as she would be the only one who would truly know who the real witches were. Also it would be a cool census of who is still remaining for her to "collect" their dues.

Another good spot from @chaotic-homoromantic is that "bruja" is a Spanish word for "witch", giving us another hint to Rio.

I couldn't really find any info on any other names other than the top one. Abigail Adams was a founder of the US, wife of John Adams, the second US president and mother of John Quincy Adams, the 6th US president. I'd like to think witches had some input back then.

Also interesting is how Agatha's surname is misspelled - it has two Ks. I wonder why that is - no way it's a mistake, seeing how much detail they've put into this. Maybe it's a subtle suggestion that this information came straight from Agatha herself or as a joke from someone who knows her, since she's known for using wrong words. (or it could just be a suggestion that all of the other names on this list are also misspelled, explaining why we can't find any info on them)

Then we get to some info about her - most of which I already collated into the timeline above. There is also a vague mention of Nicky: "Agatha Harkness. Son. Name unkown, rumours [...]"

But there are also some other bits - hilariously referred to as "FUN" facts:

Fun Facts:

Murdered her entire coven

Possesses succubus powers

Nick name is “witch killer!”

Only known survivor of The Witches Road

Folklore references: It is said certain children’s book make reference to Agatha [...]

Funny how the nickname absolutely includes the exclamation mark. I feel like maybe Jen was the one who submitted this info.

As for the children's book - I feel like it wouldn't be just a single story but more like the Grimm's Fairy Tales. Following Lilia's comment, Agatha probably was the template they used for "evil witches" - poisoning apples and stealing kids and eating children. It's not something she would deny anyway.

Now, the Succubus comment is interesting. In lore they are generally depicted as a sexual being - "a female demon or supernatural entity in folklores who appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity."

But I think in Agatha's case, things are different. Yes, she has the charisma and can probably seduce people quite easily (I mean, she probably seduced Death, didn't she?). But I don't think that's like a magical power. In fact, if it was, it think it would be really unfair to Agatha, erasing the fact that her character had to build and evolve around her experiences and the fact that she had to survive - "in a way that few do". So I think this "fun fact" could be partially coming from someone's snarky comment (Dolly Parton's?), who just wanted to take away Agatha's agency. Or fell for Agatha and then blamed it on her "powers" rather than admitting their own gullibility. Just like women over the centuries were accused of witchcraft and casting curses if things simply didn't go the way someone wanted.

Plus the way she goes about getting her magic from people is absolutely not seductive. She simply finds a way to annoy the heck out of the target!

But of course, that's not all there is to it, because on the other hand Agatha has her syphoning ability - now that could also be described as the "succubus powers" referred to above. In DnD succubus attacks using a "Deadly kiss", basically draining the essence of life and I feel like this is quite a good description:

"The kiss of a succubus is an echo of the emptiness that is the fiend’s longing for a corrupted soul. Likewise, the recipient of the fiend’s kiss gains no satisfaction from it, experiencing only pain and the profound emptiness that the fiend imparts. The kiss is nothing short of an attack, usually delivered as a final farewell before the fiend escapes."

In that magic/soul sucking way, she would have more parallels to Death, explaining their connection. More so, if Agatha can't control her powers - because Death does not really have much control either, she just has to do her job when the time comes.

[santanasaintmendes]

“i wish i was who you drunk texted at midnight”

wc!: 5.2k (i’m sorry i’ve got serious problems 😔)

ollie bearman x reader + childhood friends to ?

warnings: angst asf, heartbreak, swearing, let me know if there are any more!

part 2

summary: after moving to Chelmsford you meet ollie, the two of you quickly become friends but unfortunately you fall for Ollie. he moves away for f2 and leaves you, until he’s supposed to race in Jeddah. you fly there only to gain more than what you bargained for

type: angst (cliff hanger ending IM SORRY)

a/n: this is just something I wrote because I was sick in bed the last few days, it’s super long but so hope yall like it! Also i’m sorry if it’s bad lol i am still sick and this is just something i wrote for fun to entertain myself. ALSO no hate to Estelle Ogilvy (is that how i spell her last name) i just used her for the plot of the story please don’t come after me.). The name is inspired by “drunk text” by Henry Moodie, please give it a listen it’s such a good song, enjoy xxx

They say that you should always be friends with the person you like before you start to fall for them. Well, that’s one thing you could check off the list if you looked back on your friendship with Ollie. The truth was, being in love with your best friend sucked. Friends can break your heart too, something people tend to forget. 

6 and 6 

The first time you ever met Ollie was in a library. A week prior to that you had moved to a strange town named Chelmsford. A name that 6-year-old you found difficult to pronounce, to be frank everything in the new town sounded different to what you were used to. The people there spoke with such a different accent to what you were used to, it would take you quite a while to get used to it. As you sat in the back of the taxi with your backpack at your feet, you stared out the fogged up window. The sky was a gloomy grey and the landscape seemed to be an endless plain of sad looking meadows. 

You couldn’t seem to understand why your parents would choose to move to such a sad looking place, it didn’t make any sense. The taxi soon came to a slow stop, the brakes squealing loudly. You glanced out the window hopefully, rubbing the condensation away with your sleeve. Only to be disappointed to see a boring brick building of some sort. It was an odd combination of white wooden window frames and red bricks, like something out of one of those 1600s movies your Father once showed you. You anxiously looked back to your Mother who was watching you as your Father sorted out something with the taxi driver. Upon seeing your unhappy face your Mother chuckled softly.

“I heard that there’s a library just down the street, maybe sometime this week we could visit it.” she offered. You nodded, slightly content. Reading books was something you enjoyed and maybe with a library being close by, not all was lost. 

As it turned out, that boring brick building was your new house. 

Despite having to unpack and sort adult-y things out, your Mother took you to the library just as she had promised. As you skipped down the cobbled road, your Mother held a bright yellow umbrella over your head to shield you from the rain that was pouring down from the cloudy grey sky. 

You pushed upon the heavy front door to the library which also happened to look like a sad white brick square with a pointy red roof, a depressed mushroom if you will. You halted in your steps as giant wood bookcases rose before you, shelves full of books. Never had you ever seen so many books before. In the corner there was a lady sorting things in a trolley with her back turned to you, she still hadn’t noticed you. 

“C’mon, let’s head to the kids section.” your Mother said, taking you by the hand and leading you deeper into the library. Stunned by the amount of books that filled the shelves you couldn’t help but wander off when your Mother told you to stay put while she set up a borrowing card for you. 

Luckily, the children’s section of the library was much more pleasant looking than the eerie hallways of adult books. You scanned the shelves in search of something to read, until you came to a stop. Two round brown eyes among the books blinked from the other side of the shelf, scaring you. 

It was a boy. 

You blinked back, unsure of what to do. So you did what any other 6 year old did when they believed they had found a new friend. 

“Do you want to read with me?” you abruptly asked the boy who was still staring at you with wide eyes. A moment of silence passed before he nodded slowly, the boy rounded the corner. He wasn’t much taller than you with chocolate brown hair and small freckles that spilled over his face like tiny stars. He stuck out his hand, “I’m Oliver. But my friends call me Ollie.” he greeted, a smile taking over his face. His voice sounded odd, like the taxi driver who’d driven you from the airport to your new house. Ollie reminded you of a rabbit with his two front teeth that seemed to take up over half of his face, but you didn’t say anything because your Mother told you that saying things like that wasn’t nice. 

You took his hand cautiously in yours, “I’m Y/N.” you replied slowly. He enthusiastically shook your hand, taking you by surprise as he led you to sit down on the bright coloured bean bags. You watched curiously as he picked a book off the shelf before plopping down next to you again. You peered over as he opened the book to the first page, you frowned, not recognising the book. 

“It’s a book called Where’s Wally (Where’s Waldo if you’re American). You have to find the characters, there’s Wally, Wenda, the wizard guy and Woof - that’s the dog.” Ollie explained to you, pointing to each character on the page. The initial nervousness of meeting another kid, melting away. You began to feel excited as you nodded along while Ollie continued to explain how to play. The two of you spent the next hour doing all sorts of things, talking about favourite colours, favourite animals, reading books, drawing, playing board games together. Both getting along so easily it was as if you guys had known each other forever. That was until you heard your Mother calling your name to go home. 

You stood up, looking down at Ollie who was still seated on a yellow bean bag. He blinked up at you, with those big brown eyes that had scared you only an hour earlier. “I have to go home now.” you told him, a wave of sadness passing between the two of you as you both realised your fun had come to an end. 

“That’s okay, maybe I’ll see you at school.” he suggested hopefully upon seeing your downcast face. You broke into a smile, “Okay, bye Ollie.” you waved slowly as you began to walk away. Ollie waved back with a giant grin on his face as he watched you disappear behind the wooden bookshelves. 

“Hey Mom!” you called out to your Mother as she came into view, she was chatting with the lady who you’d seen at the desk sorting books. She paused and turned to you, “Hey, I was just talking to the librarian, she was saying about how she has a son who hangs out here while she works on the weekend.” 

Putting two and two together you realised that the book lady was Ollie’s Mother. You smiled at the lady, “I was playing with Ollie, we were reading that one book, ‘Where’s  . .  .” You trailed off, racking your brain for the name of the book he’d shown you. 

“Where’s Wally?” the librarian offered, she nodded fondly. “That’s his favourite book.” You grinned up at the lady, looking back in the direction where you’d been playing with Ollie.

“Mom, am I going to the school as Ollie?” you asked, looking up at your Mother. She chuckled softly before nodding, “As a matter of fact, you are.” 

Those golden words were what made you unbelievably excited to begin at your new school. You had barely been able to sleep with the thought of seeing your new friend again, so on that Monday morning you bounded down the stairs to the kitchen. “Good morning!” you greeted both your parents, taking a seat at the dining table, legs swinging off the chair impatiently. 

“Someone’s excited for their first day of school.” your Mother hummed as she set a plate of pancakes in front of you. You nodded, “I get to see my new friend.” you replied as you stuffed your mouth with your breakfast. 

You were basically pulling your Mother through the front gates as you scanned the sea of other children in the same uniform as you. The uniform also happened to be grey, it complimented the terrible weather perfectly. Your eyes fell onto the brown haired-freckled boy from two days earlier, you ran up to him, “Hi Ollie.” you smiled. A giant grin took over the boy’s face, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. From that day on, the two of you were inseparable. Where one of you went, the other followed right behind, Ollie helped you adjust to your new school, showing you around and never leaving you by yourself. As the years passed the two of you only became closer, though you would soon find out that that wasn’t the greatest thing. 

13 and 13

As the two of you grew into teenagers, things began to change and not always for the better. Ollie and you still remained close friends, having dinner at one another’s house on Friday’s, walking home together after school and occasionally spending afternoons playing Mario Kart with Ollie’s siblings. Your families were also extremely close now courtesy to both you and Ollie, his younger siblings becoming like your own. But the worst thing? 

You’d caught feelings for Ollie, it had been so sudden almost like it had crept up on you, taking you by surprise. You didn’t understand. It felt so wrong. 

One day out of the blue it hit you like a pile of bricks, you just couldn’t stop staring at him. Absolutely enchanted by him, his chocolate brown hair, those pretty freckles that you’d memorised on his face. 

Ollie was like a brother to you, he was your best friend, so how come you felt these things for him?

To make matters even worse for little 13 year old you, Ollie liked another girl. A girl who absolutely hated your guts. 

What had you done to her? You didn’t know. 

You and Ollie had been having a sleepover when he told you about her, her name was Estelle Ogilvy. She was gorgeous and untouchable, by far the prettiest girl you’d ever seen. You didn’t hold a candle to her and you knew it too. Ollie had been hopelessly in love with her since the start of high school when he shared science and maths class with her. Time and time again he would ramble on about her to you, completely oblivious to your feelings for him. You could only nod along wishing it was you who he was talking about. That’s just how it was, you were stuck in a bubble of unrequited love. So all you could do now was watch from afar as Ollie ran after a girl who you just knew would never like him as much as he liked her. 

15 and 15

Ollie’s karting career really took off in the last few years and you couldn’t have been prouder, those feelings for him still lingered around but you’d come to terms that he’d never like you in the same way. Because there he was, still stuck on chasing Estelle. You couldn’t blame him, and maybe that’s what you were always just supposed to be, friends. 

Yet you were jealous, something you refused to admit. Jealous of Estelle because oh how you wished to be talked about so fondly by Ollie. To always be on his mind, to be the girl he liked and would never shut up about. You still didn’t understand why you felt this way, in your mind it made absolutely zero sense. Then why did it feel so right when you were by his side, almost like you belonged there next to him? But Ollie being Ollie could just never get a hint whenever you tried to subtly let him know. It sucked because there’s nothing worse than loving someone who’ll never love you the same way. 

18 and 18 

It got worse as the years passed, your feelings for your best friend would just not go away. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you tried to find another boy to fawn over, your gaze would always fall back on Ollie. But he was dating Estelle now, he was in Formula 2 now. It almost seemed like an eternity ago when you first met him in the library just down your street. An eternity ago when you would attend his karting races, cheering the loudest for him in the stands. All of that was now in the past. You barely even saw him now that he had dropped out of school to pursue his career in Formula 2. Now all you could do now was watch from a distance as he looked the happiest you’d seen him in ages.

He was spectacular at what he did, you would watch him race on TV every week no matter what hour the race was or even if you had school the next day. 

Yet inside of you there was a giant hole, a hole that Ollie had left behind when he abandoned you. Abandoned was a bit of a stretch but it was the only word you could use to sum up what you had felt when he left. Ollie had to move to Italy for his career, news that he hadn’t even told you in person, you had to hear it from his Mother. He’d taken your hands in his at the airport as he waited to board his plane and promised you he’d stay in touch, that he’d call every week but here you were with the last time you’d spoken to him being over a month ago. 

You refused to be the first one to reach out to him, you felt like he owed you that much effort at least. So you waited  . . . and waited only for the world to keep spinning while you were stuck in the past. That was until you finally realised that you had never meant as much to Ollie as he had to you. 

19 and 19 - present day 

“Y/N! WAKE UP OR YOU’LL BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!” your Mother’s voice echoed up to your bedroom, rattling the glass in the window frames. You groaned as you groggily sat up, pulling open the curtains only to be greeted with dark overcast weather, rain pouring down outside. You rubbed your eyes, yawning as you dragged yourself out of bed. It was your second year of university studying mechanical engineering at the biggest university in Chelmsford. It proved to be difficult with its endless nights of staying up doing work but you knew it would be worth it in the end. 

Your university never failed to confuse you and make you late for class with all of its giant identical hallways. You ran down the corridors, heels clacking on the marble floor until you came to a stop at the door to where your lecture was for that day. Slipping through the door you weaved through the seats of the auditorium to find an empty seat. Luckily for you, your friend Bianca saved a seat for you. 

“Thanks.” you whispered only to be shot dirty glares by the students around you. You winced as you looked ahead at the teacher in an attempt to catch on what he was droning on about. Bianca gently nudged you, passing her phone to you. You frowned, eyebrows knitted as you looked down at the screen. A notice on Ferrari's official instagram with Ollie’s face plastered above the words “Oliver Bearman to race in Jeddah this weekend for Carlos Sainz.” 

You narrowed your eyes and huffed, passing the phone back to Bianca who smiled nervously. “What was the point of that?” you whispered, leaning closer to her. Bianca sighed, “You’re not fooling anyone, I know you still have unresolved feelings for him.” she whispered back only to get a loud shushing sound from a nearby student. 

Bianca shot them a glare before turning back to you, “You have to go, I don’t care what you say. You are going. This is his Formula 1 debut, whether you’re still friends with him or not you’ve got to be there for him.” she whispered-shouted, looking at you sternly. You sighed, leaning back into your chair, shaking your head. 

“It’s not the same anymore. He’s clearly forgotten about me, the last time we spoke was last year and he’s been back home 4 times in the last 12 months.” 

Silence hung in the air, only the voice of the teacher rambling on and on about something you still hadn’t caught on about. 

“That Estelle girl, she’s clearly using him. You were his best friend, surely that means something to you both.” Bianca tried again but it wasn’t any use. There was no purpose in bringing up something that you both had clearly tried so hard  to forget about. 

So then why were you here booking a flight to Jeddah to watch your old best friend debut in Formula 1? 

It was something you couldn’t answer and didn’t want to. 

The thing that you hated the most is that you didn’t even think twice before booking those tickets. 

How could you care so much about a person who had so blatantly forgotten about you?

Deep down you knew the answer, it was because to you Ollie was like your home. He was the first person to make you feel like you actually belonged somewhere, he never abandoned you to eat lunch alone at school, he never cancelled plans once you made them, he was a good person, a good friend. 

Or at least he was. 

Were you insane? The answer was yes, yes you were insane. Being here was so crazy; it nearly made you want to turn around and jump on the next flight back home. You were standing in line to go through the gates when you heard someone call your name. You secretly hoped it was Ollie but much to your disappointment it was . . . Arthur?

Ollie had introduced you to Arthur back when they had raced in Formula 3 together. You hadn’t seen him in forever. 

“Arthur?” you questioned as he pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back before pulling away, still unable to believe it was him. 

“I was about to ask what you’re doing here but that would be dumb.” you confessed, only noticing now the massive crowd that was surrounding the two of you. Arthur chuckled before nodding in the direction of the gate, “C’mon, I can get you in, you’ll be my guest.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you began but Arthur was already pushing you through the gates. Walking back onto a race track was like taking a breath of fresh air after being in a car for a long time. You used to accompany Ollie to all of his karting races each weekend in Chelmsford, so being in the stands had become like a second home to you. 

“Are you here for Ollie?” Arthur asked as you walked in the direction of the motorhomes. You caught yourself before you could answer too irrationally, “No, I’m just here to watch the race.” you shrugged, realising how dumb that sounded as soon as it left your mouth. No good person would fly all the way to Saudi Arabia to watch a race if there was a Grand Prix in their own country.  If you wanted to “just watch a race” you could’ve watched it on TV or gone to the Silverstone GP. Arthur only hummed, you knew he had already caught on, it was so obvious it made you want to dig a hole and jump in. 

“Anyways,” you quickly said, eager to move onto a different topic.

“Anyways.” Arthur agreed, looking at you, eyebrows raised. “You can’t fool me, I’ve known it since the moment I met you.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “What am I going to say to him?” you asked, looking to Arthur for help. He shrugged, “No clue but you might want to think of something quickly because he’s walking over right now.”

“Y/N?” 

You blinked as you came face to face with the person you wanted to see so badly for the last year and now that you were here facing him it felt like all the air in you had gotten sucked right out. He looked  the same since the last time you saw him. In the last year you wanted to hate Ollie so much but it was impossible because you still loved him and that was the big terrible truth that you refused to admit. 

“Hi. Ollie.” you said, to not let the jumble of words that you’ve kept in since the last time you saw him spill out. Arthur sent you a quick salute, “Gotta go, I’ll see you afterwards, Y/N.” and with that he left you with Ollie in silence. 

“What are you doing here?” Ollie finally asked, he was acting so . . .  so normal. As if nothing had changed between the two of you.

“I’m here because I’m your number 1 fan, remember?” you scoffed, looking up at him. A reminder of the time when you were both 10, Ollie gifted you a t-shirt at Christman with the words: “Ollie’s No.1 fan.” plastered on it for you to wear to his karting races. It was sure to be buried deep in your wardrobe somewhere. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, “Yeah you are.” guilt written all over his face. 

“Why’d you leave me then? Tell me the truth, did I do something wrong? Was I too normal for you?” you asked, questions pouring out of you. 

“We were best friends, how could you just leave me like that? Do I mean nothing to you? Because you were everything to me, my best friend, the first person who made me feel like I actually mattered to someone, so tell me, why did you abandon me?” 

Silence hung in the air as you stared up at Ollie. You wanted answers, perhaps it would be the only thing that would let you move on from him. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. This was so. . . so unfair. You wanted to yell, scream at him even so he could feel even a fraction of the pain you’d felt in the past year. 

“So that’s it? You don’t even have an explanation?” you asked him, your voice shaking with anger it made your throat ache as you blinked back tears. 

“I waited and waited for you to call me, to even send a message but that was a mistake. You’ll never love me in the same way that I love you.” 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, Ollie finally meeting your eyes as the three simple words left your lips. 

You’ll never love me in the same way that I love you.

The world stopped like everything had been put on pause as you realised your mistake. You felt like you’d gotten hit on the head with a cricket bat. 

“I have to go.” is all that left your mouth as you turned around. The ground was moving like a spinning wheel - a blurry mess of colours. It made you sick to your stomach as you walked away, your cheeks flushed hot and your forehead sticky with sweat. Ollie didn’t even call out for you, nor run after you for an explanation because it was so blatantly clear what you’d just confessed to him. 

You wished you could hate him, hate the fact that he’d left you, forgotten you like an old stuffed toy, you hated that he didn’t love you. 

You sat on the curb, clutching your knees outside of the entrance to the racetrack wallowing in self-pity. Wiping away tears that just kept falling down your face much to your distaste. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the buildings, the sky now a deep shade of orange. You stared at your feet, it was dumb, you should’ve known that coming here to Jeddah was a mistake. Ollie had moved on, something that you hadn’t done in the last year. You felt so stupid, why did you believe you could repair your friendship?

Why did you-

“Excuse me?” a voice interrupted your train of thought, you quickly wiped your tears and looked up to see Arthur standing beside you, a pitiful smile on his face. You looked away, “What do you want?” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest bitterly. Arthur sat down beside you, watching you closely as you stared at the trees in the distance. He sighed, “The race is about to start and Ollie’s not coming out of his driver room. Estelle said she’d be here but she’s not and he’s locked himself in.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, “And what does that have to do with me?” you asked flatly. You knew exactly what he meant. But you weren’t going to do that, you were done with Ollie and everything to do with him. 

“You know exactly what it has to do with you. Did you really think Ollie forgot about you that easily? You’re dumber than I thought.” he quipped unhelpfully. 

“Thanks,” you muttered miserably, Arthur winced. 

“What I meant is that you can’t give up this easily, you and I both know how stupid Ollie can be sometimes.” 

You chuckled softly, letting a tiny smile creep onto your face. Arthur wasn’t wrong. When you and Ollie were both 8 you invited him over for Easter to make coloured eggs. It resulted in 20 cracked eggs on the kitchen tiles when Ollie accidentally knocked them off the bench. The two of you had stared at the mess on the ground before bursting out laughing until you were both in tears. It was safe to say that you both spent the next 2 hours scrubbing the tiles and the yolk that had stained the grout in between them. 

“Yeah.” you said softly, looking at the sun that had been swallowed by the top of the palm trees, the stars in the sky beginning to appear as you sat in the light underneath a lamp post. 

“So?”

“Okay, I’ll get him out of the room but after that I’m out of here. I want to go home.” 

Arthur gave you a quick thumbs up as you raised your hand to knock gently on the door to the driver’s room. There wasn’t a reply, only dead silence and that’s when you heard it, crying from inside the room. 6-year-old you would’ve kicked down the door and done anything to get to your best friend. But here you stood outside the room, sending hopeless glances at Arthur who was standing behind you. 

“Ollie?” you called out hesitantly, the crying halted and there was another long moment of silence. You pressed your ear up against the door, waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah?” his shaky voice replied, you breathed a sigh of relief. You turned around, beckoning Arthur to leave you both, he only nodded, mouthing ‘OK’ as he slipped down the hallway. Turning back to the driver’s room you took a deep breath in, you didn’t want to go in. You didn’t think you could face him after what happened earlier. 

“You came,” he said as your hand rested on the handle of the door but there was resistance, it was still locked. 

“Of course, are you okay?” you asked, immediately regretting asking as soon as it left your mouth. You cursed yourself silently as you awaited Ollie’s answer. Soft sniffles came from the other side of the door, “Yeah.” he finally replied quietly but loud enough for you to hear from the other side of the door.

What were you supposed to say to get him out of the driver’s room?

“Everyone’s waiting for you, you can’t stay in there forever.” you gently reminded him, sighing as you sat down, back leaning up against the door. There was another long moment of silence as you rested your head on the door, stretching your legs out for comfort. 

“I don’t think I can do it.” he said, taking you by surprise. The Ollie you’d known wasn’t afraid of anything, he was confident in almost everything he did, almost it seemed. 

“Oliver, you’re being crazy. You are by far the most talented driver I’ve ever seen.” you told him, staring at the roof of the building as you heard a sigh from the other side of the door. “You’re just saying that because you’re my girlfriend, Estelle.” 

You froze as if you’d just been stabbed by icicles, Ollie thought you were Estelle. 

Of course. He’d been expecting her, Arthur had told you before. You scoffed to yourself quietly, you would’ve stood up and left if it wasn’t the fact that you were here to get Ollie out of the driver’s room he had oh so nicely locked himself in. You let out a soft sigh as you racked your brain for what you should say to him. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Ollie.” you told him with a heavy heart, feeling as if you were just setting yourself up to get your heart broken all over again. You took a deep breath in, “You are such an amazing driver it’s literally insane, not only that but you’re by far the kindest, most selfless person I know. It’s crazy that you think you can’t do this, because I know that you can. Ferrari chose you to drive for them for a reason, they know what you’re capable of, everyone else does too. I see you and you’re extraordinary, you have this spark inside you that’s amazing. And . . . maybe that’s the reason why I love you. I always have, and when I had the chance I should’ve told you but I didn’t because your friendship has always meant more to me than my own feelings.” you let out a shaky breath. 

“You’re a good person, Ollie. You’ve earned a chance to show the world just how great and insanely talented you are, are you really going to throw it away?” 

You blinked back tears, who knew you could get so emotional after giving such a life changing speech?

You rubbed your eyes and cleared your throat, letting out a deep sigh. It was time to leave now, Ollie would have realised by now that it was you who was speaking to him and not Estelle. As you began to get up, leaning against the door for support you heard a click!

Oh shit, was the only thought that went through your mind as you lost your footing and fell backwards, the door frame offering you no help at all as you grasped at it helplessly. You stared up at Ollie as you laid at his feet, a million thoughts racing through your mind. He was in his fireproofs with his race suit tied around his waist as he looked down at you, eyebrows knitted. There were tear stains on his flushed cheeks as he stared at you with those wide brown eyes you’d seen among the books all those years ago. 

“Y/N?” 

a/n: sorry if it was so quick and rushed i just wanted to post something! Thank you if you got the end, ik it was super long for no reason, so thank you! Please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you and have an amazing day xx

[marlynnofmany]

Confidential Human Questions

I was walking past the door to the cockpit quietly because I heard Captain Sunlight on a video call with a client, but then I heard, “Was that a human? Call them back; I have a question.”

This ought to be good, I thought as I spun on my heel.

Captain Sunlight was just calling my name as I reached the doorway. “Ah yes, thank you. Would you mind answering a human-related question?” She stood in the middle of the room, yellow scales bright in the good lighting. She managed to look up to my height without making it seem awkward.

“Sure,” I said. “What’s the question?” I stayed in the doorway. The room was a little crowded, with Wio in one pilot’s chair, tentacles manipulating many controls at once, and Kavlae doing something to fix her own chair with a hand tool. Judging by the way her head frills were flaring with frustration, she wasn’t done yet.

The client on the big screen curled his own tentacles. “I’m concerned about my ship’s human,” he said, turning his pointy squid head to make sure he wasn’t overheard. He lowered his voice and spoke closely to the screen. “We only have the one, you see, and I don’t want to ask any awkward questions directly.”

“I understand,” I said with a nod. Captain Sunlight ushered me into the room, then stepped out to talk to Zhee about something. I heard the distinctive click of his bug feet.

The client was still talking, with agitated twists of his pebbly gray tentacles. “We don’t have a medic onboard, just an automated medical suite. The human will be going home soon — limited time work contract, you know — but I’m honestly worried about infection spreading there, since I think this human caught it by meeting up with another. I gather that this other is on good terms with ours, and may be going to the same place either way, but I don’t want to contribute any contagion from my ship.”

“What kind of symptoms are we talking about?” I asked, mentally going over the short list of diseases that I knew of which could jump between species. This might be worth consulting our own medic. “No one else onboard is affected?”

“No, just the human,” he said, making vague loops with his tentacles. “There’s a malignant-looking growth, along with fatigue and gastrointestinal distress. The human has been acting a little… unpredictable.” He looked behind himself again. “I very much don’t want to cause an incident by prying, especially if this is something she knows to be terminal.”

I opened my mouth then closed it, choosing my questions with care. “Is the growth about here?” I pantomimed a roundness at my own stomach. “How long since she met with the other human?”

“Yes, exactly there! It’s been approximately half a standard orbit. What is it? Do you know?”

He was so sincere and worried that I had to smile. “Good news! In my opinion as a professional human, that’s not a disease at all. Your human is going to be a parent.”

Instead of relaxing, he looked confused. “Humans gestate eggs for that long? Shouldn’t she have laid them by now? She looks awfully uncomfortable. Oh no, are they stuck?” Now he was getting alarmed. “I had a relative who got eggbound once, and it was dire!”

I raised my hands in a calming gesture that I hoped he understood. “No, no eggs. Humans give live birth.”

“Live what?”

“Just — we lay the babies, already hatched.” I looked to my various crewmates for support, and found four different sets of eyes watching in curiosity. “All of you lay eggs, don’t you?”

Several nods answered me, along with, “Well not personally,” from Zhee. “But yes.”

I sighed and turned back to the screen. “It’s extremely normal on my planet. Just think of it as carrying the nest around internally. There are pros and cons to the whole thing, but yeah. At any rate, it sounds like she’s planning to join up with her mate at home, and raise their offspring together.”

The client looked fascinated. “Is there anything I should do? Or not do? I can make sure my crew is informed.”

“I understand it’s an uncomfortable process. Just be gentle, and encourage rest,” I said. “Oh, and have other crewmembers handle anything that involves bending over or moving heavy things.”

By the swift tentacle motions offscreen, he was typing notes.

Another thought occurred to me. “I don’t know how long until you reach her home, but if things take too long, you’d better hope your medical suite is up to overseeing a childbirth. They’re very painful, sometimes dangerous. And messy.”

He stopped typing, eyes wide. “I need to check with someone about changing our schedule. Thank you, goodbye!” The screen went blank.

I looked to the captain. “Were you done talking with him, I hope?”

She nodded. “Yes, business is concluded. Which is good, since I don’t fancy having to track him down because he forgot to pay us.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I said with a glance back at the screen. “I didn’t even get to tell him how loud human newborns are, or how often they cry. I doubt there’s a crib onboard.”

Zhee made a disparaging hiss and wandered off in a cloud of opinions about species without the good sense to hatch at a properly capable stage of development.

Wio snorted. “Judging by the speed they just took off at, I don’t think they’re going to need one.” She pointed a blue-ringed tentacle at a display that showed the other ship departing in an all-fired hurry.

I shook my head. “Best of luck to all involved!”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[cloudysfluffs]

--And Once with Tickles!!

A/N: BLARHG i havent posted a fic of any kind in like four years. and i havent written a TICKLE fic in like SIX years!!!! so i might be a little rusty. but this fic has been in the works for OVER A YEAR NOW and itd be a shame if only my bf gets to see it :P so im posting it to da world!!!!!

Summary: basically just if the tickle scene from Sock Opera was longer ^^'' its literally my favorite tk scene of all time so now you can have an entire fic where i stretch it out for 5k words!!!!!!!!!!!! <3

Lee: Bill? Dipper? Bipper <3

Ler: Mabel + Stan

WARNING: THIS IS AN SFW TICKLE FIC!!!!! KINK/FETISH BLOGS DO NOT TOUCH!!!!! MOST OF THE CHARACTERS IN HERE ARE MINORS AND ALL OF THEM ARE RELATED!!!!! DON'T BE WEIRD!!!!!

“Whoah, whoah, hey-- hey, HEY!”

SMASH!

The cake prop crashed against the ground with a horrible crackling sound, breaking apart beneath both of their weights. There was a collective jump and gasp from the startled crowd. Even the puppets themselves-- or, at least, the soul piloting them-- seemed taken off guard.

Despite the panic and destruction, neither Bipper nor Mabel took too long to shake it off. Bipper landed on the ground, on his stomach, just a few feet away from Mabel, who’d landed on her side. Instantly, he pushed himself up, eyes wide, feeling around the floor for the journal. A stagelight swiveled, reflecting off the shiny gold cover, and both of them leapt for it with the determination of a starving animal on a hunt. They touched down at the very same time. They wore matching, angry glares, each gripping the journal so tightly that their knuckles were turning white. Mabel knew, as she squinted to avoid the spotlight, that there was no hope in saving the show. But there was hope for saving her brother! And if that meant sabotaging everything she worked for, then…Well, it was about time she sacrificed something for Dipper. 

They rolled across the stage, tumbling over one another, until Bipper’s head reached the edge. If he craned his neck backwards enough, he could see the confused and terrified face of the audience. Something he would’ve found amusing, if the stakes weren’t so high. Mabel was on top of him, her knee on his stomach, and both hands on the journal, tugging and yanking with all her might. He just held on, harder, gritting his teeth. The very same thought was in both of their minds. I’ve almost got it!

“Get out of my brother’s body, you evil triangle!!” Mabel yelled, pressing her leg down even harder. Enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to cause any lasting damage. She really had to engrain that thought into her head. Once Bill got out of here-- and she would get him out of here-- it would be Dipper’s body suffering the consequences. He’d already been through too much. It turned out to be just enough to get the book to slip out of his hands. Both of their eyes widened in shock, but before Bill could give too much chase, she made sure to whack him with the journal. Just for good measure. She’d wanted to do that this whole time!!

Mabel stumbled to her feet, running back to center stage, just as Bipper was starting to sit up and rub his forehead. He growled, in a way she hadn’t heard since she was in Stan’s mind, in a way she knew her brother couldn’t replicate if he tried. Fascinatingly, she watched as his face seemed to heat up, reddening his skin even more than it had been already, as he pushed himself off the ground. If he were human, she may have assumed his failure had embarrassed him. But this was Bill, they were talking about…so, if she had to guess, this was his human-body equivalent of his yellow turning red. Kinda cute! In a weird, gross way. 

“Grrr…You can’t stop me!” He scowled, his eyes narrowing on the book. Mabel looked behind her. The set pieces blocked access backstage from this side, and while she could move to the stage stairs, or even jump down, that’d take a good amount of coordination. Before she could decide…she was leapt on. She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as she was tackled to the wooden floor. The journal slipped from her grasp, and landed on the floor beside her. Both she and Bipper placed their hands on it at the same time, hers on the edge, and his on the palm of the cover. Bipper was sitting on top of her, straddling her waist, his chest heaving as he panted. She felt breathless, too. But, as she stared up at him, still pink in the face, and with a tired, yet satisfied grin on his face…It was as if something clicked in her mind.

“I’m a being of pure energy, with no weakness!”

Mabel stared at him, almost in disbelief. It seemed so obvious. In any other circumstance, it would’ve been the very first thing she thought of, when searching for a method to gain the upper hand in combat, without actually hurting the other person. She did it to Dipper all the time! So often, in fact, that she figured the townsfolk wouldn’t bat an eye, if they saw her do this at her own show. For the first time, it was her turn to get to wear that smug, knowing smirk. She brought her other hand around to rest over the journal like a seat belt, just so he couldn’t snatch it while she talked. 

“True…But you’re in Dipper’s body!” She reminded, to which he huffed, as if offended. What, did she think he forgot? For once, it was like she could read his mind, because she picked up for him. She lifted the hand that wasn’t protecting the journal, and wiggled her fingers.

“And I know all his weaknesses!~”

Bipper quirked a brow. In the split second between her final comment, and what she was going to do next, she could see the cogs visibly turning behind his eyes. He wasn’t used to not knowing what was about to happen. Typically, at a glance, he could look at a person and see right through to their mind, where he could pluck their thoughts and plans right out. Sometimes, he knew what someone was about to do before they did. Having to rationalize like a human made it so he had to manually run through his own mental database, for what she could possibly mean…It was such a broad assessment. He was human, for christs’ sake. What wasn’t a weakness to them, really? They couldn’t handle being stretched too far, or bleeding too much, and their limbs could only bend to a certain point. Humanity was so fragile! It was honestly a mystery how they survived so long. But he’d pinned her like this for a reason; how could she possibly hurt him? 

“What do you mean his--?”

Before he could finish, Mabel lifted her wiggling fingers…and slipped her hand into his jacket, pressing them just underneath his arm. 

Bipper felt as if his entire body seized. In the half-second that the sensation touched down, he was overcome with a surge of physical reactions he’d never experienced before. First, he shivered, goosebumps freckling over his skin. It was as if every nerve in his body ignited, with an odd, fluttery tingling. Worse, perhaps…was the way he vocally reacted.He gasped, and squeaked, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaping from his throat. The glare, which he’d taken pride in withstanding, was forcibly wiped from his expression, replaced by a shaky smile. It felt like his insides were bubbling. But when he opened his mouth to express that concern…he realized what it was.

“GaHhh--! AAAaahhahahahahaha!” It was the urge to laugh. Uncontrollable giggles poured out of him like bubbles to a heated cauldron. The heat he felt rush to his face only made that metaphor seem all the more accurate. Mabel and the audience might’ve heard Dipper’s voice, but he heard his own. The helplessness in his tone disgusted him. Out of his own control, his reflexes went haywire, demanding that he get anywhere as long as it was away. Robbed of the motor skills required for any complex movements, he found himself toppling backwards, pinning his arms to his sides. He’d hoped falling would be enough to put distance between him and his tormentor, but it seemed like the opposite had occurred. The moment he was down, she took advantage, by climbing on top of his waist, instead. She wriggled the fingers of both of her hands under each of his arms, ruthlessly scribbling for long enough for him to feel as if any attempts at fighting back would be futile. And then, she slid both hands down, grazing his ribs, before settling on his sides. The motion elicited another yelp, and another full-body shiver, before he settled back into the helpless giggling that had possessed him before. 

It was unusual. It was unbearable. It…tickled.

“Tickle tickle!~” Mabel cooed, and for some reason, Bipper felt a heat rush to his cheeks. In fact, the burning sensation stretched all the way to the tips of his ears, making him feel compelled to wrench his eyes shut and turn his head away. The words-- or was it that voice?-- made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Somehow, it seemed like her touch only tickled more, the teasing worsening the odd hypersensitivity afflicting his nerves. His hands locked around her wrists, and he arched his back, shoving pitifully while he used his heels to kick at the ground. Whether it was due to the tickle-induced weakness, or the pose was just that effective, he didn’t get anywhere. Mabel smirked, baring her braces like fangs, like she could see just how much the comment worked on him. Dipper couldn’t stand that, either!

“Awww, whatsa matter?~ Does it tiiiickle?~ Are you too tiiicklish to handle it?~ Kitchy-kitchy-koo!~”

“S-StahahaAAahahahahahahap!” He hissed, scowling, cursing the stutter in his voice. Damn Pine Tree’s twitchy little body and his squeaky little voice! How did he live, being so sensitive?? He couldn’t bear to listen to another word of that teasing, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. And, in retaliation, Mabel’s nails skittered upwards again. They passed over his ribs, before again settling into a gentle scratch just under his arms. It got the exact same reaction the downward motion over the same spot had caused; a gasp, a yelp, and a full-body shiver, all before his arms snapped right back down again. Both of them seemed irritated by that last response.

“AAGhh-! Whyhyhyhyhyhyhyhy cahahahahahahahan’t I mohohohohove my ahahahahahahahaharms?!”

“Reflexes!” Mabel chimed in, instantly, as if it were obvious. To a human, it may have been, but for Bill, ‘reflexes’ were an entirely foreign concept. He’d never felt so…effortlessly disarmed. And that was coming from someone who spent a good chunk of his life in the second dimension, and, the rest of the time, was confined to the mindscape. He was already relatively harmless. But somehow, when he had a physical body to interpret reality with, being helpless was so much more torturous. He knew the human body was pathetic, but really, how had they survived this long as a species, if all it took were a few pokes to entirely collapse them?? Perhaps it was a combination of how unfamiliar the sensation was to him, and how sensitive Dipper’s body was, anyway…but he felt he reserved the right to mentally complain, anyway. He felt naturally more whiny. As if Mabel could tell, she grinned, and retracted a hand.

“Here, let me help you!”

Her now-free arm shifted backwards, so her hand could lock around his wrist…and force it upwards, pinning it to the ground beside his head. The other hand, that had been trapped in place, wriggled its way out. She crossed it over his body, and switched which side she was attacking, her claws now slipping into his jacket to scratch beneath the arm she’d pinned. It all happened so quickly, Bipper hardly had the chance to look horrified…before he fully squealed, his laughter ratcheting up another octave. 

“EEEEeeehheheheheek!! ‘Hehehehehehehehehelp’?!” He echoed, offended, the bite of his tone lost in his giggling. He wanted to argue more thoroughly, but good god, that tickled so much more!! He arched his back, jerked at his elbow, and turned to one side, desperate for something-- anything-- to put distance between his skin and her nails. Talk about feeling disarmed! He thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, and yet, here he was. 

“Yeah! Help! Now you don’t have to flail your arms around; you can just lay back and take it!” Mabel interjected, with an innocence that seemed far too natural for how cruel she was being. Bill saw some of himself in her, sometimes. With that kind smile, and flattery. So, sweetly deceptive. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to get ‘em! This girl was brimming with potential; the unicorns and butterflies and rainbows were just a thin blanket to mask the chaos that she was capable of. The little brat. Maybe he could use that someday. But now, it only aided in annoying him. 

“You’re welcome!~”

He wasn’t an idiot. He saw what she was trying to do. But just in case he didn’t, she told him, anyway. Mabel leaned down, eyes narrowed, so they were practically nose-to-nose. 

“Get outta Dipper’s body, or I’m gonna tickle you until you pass out!!”

He growled, trying to force the corners of his lips down into a frown. She wished it would be that easy! He may be weakened, and disarmed, but please! Who did she think he was? As if he suddenly realized he had control over his not-pinned hand, he reached over to try and grab at her wrist, to pry the hand attacking him away from the spot. It did work, partially, as the tugging would occasionally slide her hand downwards…but that only meant her wiggling fingers would graze his ribs, instead, and he’d be possessed by that yelp and full-body shiver that seemed to trigger every time. The reaction weakened him. As if he wasn’t weak enough! 

“Nehehehehehehehever!” He insisted, with just enough bite in his words for him to feel a swell of pride. He was starting to get used to it! His smile suddenly seemed all the more smug, practically a smirk, despite the fact that it was hardly warranted, in his current state. He was still laughing, and squirming, his entire body leaned to one side to reflexively counteract the nails scratching away at him. Mabel huffed. 

First, her eyes drifted to the stage. She wished she could see Dipper. To everyone else here, she was tormenting her innocent brother in front of an audience for no apparent reason. Worse, none of them, not even their most loved ones, would get an honest explanation. Whoops. She’d apologize to him later. In the meantime, she turned her head in the other direction.

Everyone out there seemed absolutely captivated. Well, for the most part, at least. Some seemed confused, others seemed shocked. A shocking amount seemed pretty flustered, while others sported the exact opposite mood. She could just barely see Candy and Grenda confusedly flipping through the script just off stage. But, generally, most of the crowd was enjoying this thrilling multi-media masterpiece. Even those from the Mystery Shack. In fact, maybe especially those three! Mabel couldn’t help but smile, as she met their eyes through the smearing, colorful stage lights.

Wendy was leaning back in her seat with her boots kicked up on the empty chair in front of her, an amused smirk on her face. Though she couldn’t hear anything coherent from the crowd from up here (and wouldn’t be able to, anyway, over Bipper’s high-pitched squealing), she could tell that Wendy snickered, as she elbowed Soos in the side. Soos was one of the members of the audience who seemed a little flustered over the whole endeavor. Even in the low lighting, Mabel could see just how red his face was. He was grinning nervously, and fanning himself with his cap, and flinched just a little too hard as he was nudged. It was all very sweet. Truthfully, she didn’t care if this ruined the show for most of the audience, because it wasn’t for them anymore. It was for Dipper! …But it did make her feel good, to see them enjoying themselves. And no one seemed to be enjoying himself more than Stan!

Earlier today, he seemed to be a little skeptical about coming. He was swayed incredibly easily though, which was rare for him. He was probably the most stubborn man the twins had ever met, and yet a good puppy-dog-eyed stare and a promise that the end would blow his mind was enough to convince him that maybe this memory was priceless. He’d even brought a camera to film it. Even with one of his eyes obscured by the pop-out window of the old recording device, she could see how widely he was grinning, the expression on his face one of fond amusement. He must have assumed that this was the ‘spectacular closing act’ that she’d been bragging about just a few hours earlier. It wasn’t, but if this went well, he’d never have to find that out! He caught her looking out upon the crowd, and tilted his head so more of his face was visible, his grin seeming all the more proud. He gave her a reassuring thumbs up, and she felt a new wave of confidence wash over her. She could do this.

Her eyes fell back to the demon pinned beneath her, who hadn’t stopped giggling and struggling since she shifted her attention a few moments ago. He’d probably been yelling insults she’d been too distracted to hear. She squinted at him suspiciously. If this were Dipper, she’d be jumping to his spot about now. Heck, that’s probably what she’d do when wrecking anyone! But…this wasn’t Dipper. It wasn’t ‘just anyone’. This was Bill! He already seemed to be getting the hang of this sensation, with how consistently now he was shoving at her hands, and how successful his thrashing was becoming. If she let up for even a second, he might even be able to wriggle away, or worse! She needed to not only tickle him to death, but she needed to make the session intense. What was something Dipper wouldn’t be able to stand…? 

Her gaze flickered to the crowd again. And, suddenly…she stopped.

Her smirk returned. Her wiggling fingers ceased, and instead that hand grabbed Bipper’s opposite wrist, so she was now pinning both to the floor. The demon-possessed vessel gasped the moment he felt a moment of solace, obviously annoyed by the fact that his giggle-fit didn’t immediately die. Every time he inhaled, or exhaled, he found he couldn’t stop laughing, like the feeling was still there, under his skin. But he was too out of breath to do anything about it! He fought with this natural, human response, while Mabel sat up as straight as she could.

“For my next act, I’ll need a volunteer from the audience!” She announced, proudly, as if it made any logical sense. The poor crowd was going to be so confused. But she didn’t need most of their approval. She only needed it from one. She grinned, and shut one eye, so she could point directly at her grunkle.

“How about you, good sir? You look like you’d make a fine actor!”

Stan lifted his head away from the viewfinder, visibly startled. He glanced to either side of him, pointed to himself, and brightened when Mabel nodded in approval. He didn’t hesitate any longer than that, handing the camera over to Soos (who fumbled with it for a moment, before giving a reassuring thumbs up) and climbing out of his seat. 

Bipper was only just starting to regain his composure, when he realized what was going on. He shook his head, and blinked open his eyes, squinting out at the crowd. Jesus, had the kid’s eyes always been this bad? He almost missed Sixer’s glasses. But, the very moment he processed that Mabel’s hands had released his wrists…thick, strong arms wrapped underneath his, scooping him up into a sitting position, pressed against someone’s chest. He felt like a cat being hoisted into the arms of their owner, unable to do anything but twist his shoulders and try to wriggle out of his grasp. Mabel was still sitting on his legs.  He glared over his shoulder. The light reflected off of Stan’s glasses, obscuring his eyes, and for some reason that made him look intimidating. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was in such a small, wimpy body; anyone could look like a threat, when everyone towered over you. His hands balled into fists.

“Wh-What is this?!” He scowled, stammering, trying to roll his shoulder to free it from the old man’s grasp. But it seemed like every inch that he managed to unwind, Stan just pulled him back even tighter. It was so effortless, it was hard to feel anything other than pathetic. No wonder this kid was getting tickled constantly! Everyone in town had a leg up on him!

“Let go of me!”

“This is called a grand finale!” Mabel declared, straightening her back and cracking her knuckles. The smirk on her face was downright sinister. An evil that Bill couldn’t help but think rivaled his own. She was an expert at this, wasn’t she? She knew this would up the game, considering the strength difference between them. Even with her best efforts, she wasn’t strong enough to keep him fully still. And even if she could, she’d lose leverage by being unable to use both hands. But the addition of another person-- him, especially-- had immobilized him completely, without her ever having to lift a finger. Not to mention how calculated this whole trap with her ‘grunkle’ had been. She hadn’t even had to speak word to him, for him to understand exactly where his place was, in all of this. Maybe they were psychic. Or maybe they really just did this that frequently. Man, he’d almost pity Pine Tree, if he deserved it! But he hardly had time to dwell on something like that, anyway. Not as he watched Mabel lift her wiggling fingers threateningly. 

“Last chance!”

She was bold, too. But so was he. And that would be his first mistake. Daringly-- challengingly-- he smirked.

“Pssh, yeah, right!” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. Mabel glared, as he turned up his nose, quirked a brow, and scoffed. Anyone who thought this was Dipper might almost see it as in-character behavior. He’d been similarly snarky, around this point in sessions. Stan even rolled his eyes right back, and tightened his grip, as if he’d found it predictable. But anyone who knew the truth, knew he wasn’t doing it for any reason other than to call her bluff. This was a pathetic excuse of a torture attempt. He thought smarting off would prove as much. When, actually…it did the exact opposite.

“Like I’d be convinced by a little tihihiiihihiHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLING--!!”

Mabel’s wiggling fingers finally dug into his ribs. And it felt so distinctly different from the other spots, or even from how it felt when she was just grazing them earlier. It was like he’d been electrocuted, from the way his body jolted uncontrollably, and the way the sensation gripped him like a shock. The yelp of terror that jumped from his throat broke in the middle, fully replaced by helpless cackles. 

…Okay. Maybe not his proudest moment.

Maybe he should’ve known better. Maybe being in this body too long was getting to him. Maybe the stupid, human impulses that he’d gotten so good at ignoring also included this vessel’s apparent desire to talk himself into corners just to get himself tickled. Whatever the case, the whole time this had been going on, the more he felt his resolve…slipping. Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids, like his body suddenly remembered that it hadn’t gotten proper sleep in over twenty-four hours. Every part of him was sore, not that pain could even begin to compete with the tickly jolts shooting through his ribs. He considered the pro’s and con’s of dislocating a shoulder just to weasel out of here, but he couldn’t properly think. He swore he could literally feel circuits shorting in his brain, glitching and sparking and stuttering where the neat rows of coherent thought used to be. It had been a beautiful process to watch, from the other side…but was miserably frustrating, when it was your plans getting thrown out of whack! 

He wanted to growl. To kick, and scream, and either kill this vessel or one of the two holding him back. Whichever came first! But, all that came out was…

“SHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUP!!”

…A very pathetic attempt at defiance. Enough that each of his attackers dared to snicker at him in amusement. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, thrashing and twisting in the restraints.

“W-WHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEN I GEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUT OF THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIIS, IHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL--! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI’LL--!!”

Mabel couldn’t help but notice just how…not-evil he looked, like this. Bill’s base form had no mouth, and yet he somehow always seemed to be grinning. Earlier, she’d seen that condescending smirk in Bipper. But now it was gone, and she was seeing a face she’d never quite seen before. It wasn’t quite the flustered, giggly look she got from her brother, but it was far from the invisible, malevolent smile that Bill was always wearing. It was something in between. It might’ve fascinated her, if she was any less focused on the task at hand. Her nails, while dull, knew how to press just right, to tickle as much as possible without translating into physical pain. She scratched at the spaces between his ribs, and played the bones like a piano, watching in satisfied amusement as every motion elicited the same, predictable reaction. Cackles, squeaks and voice-cracks echoed through the auditorium, almost sounding musical against the backing-track of her rock-opera, that no one had bothered to turn off. If anything, Bill was even squirmier than her brother was, which was certainly saying something. This was usually the point in the session where Dipper gave up fighting, especially when Stan was helping, since he obviously didn’t have a chance. But Bill still had some fight in him! 

“I don’t know what you did to deserve this, but clearly you’re gettin’ what’s coming to ya!” Stan accused, glancing over Bipper’s shoulder in an attempt to make eye contact. The kid was clearly avoiding it. But he still peeked up, for just a moment, if only to make a point to glare. Stan took advantage of his disorientation, knowing he was disarmed just long enough for him to be able to let go of his arms. Instead, he grabbed both wrists, and pulled them behind his back, like how a cop would while handcuffing you. But he didn’t need handcuffs, because his hands were big enough in comparison to grab both of the kid’s wrists in one of his palms while still having his fingers touch in the middle. And, with one hand free…he was able to pull out one last trick. 

Fingers skittered up Bipper’s spine, spurring out an involuntary shiver that was so intense, Bill was a little surprised it didn’t jolt him out of this body entirely. He didn’t get to dwell on how scarily close that had been to breaking him, though. Because in a second, that single skittering turned into a consistent, unrelenting scribble, and any coherent thought that was left slipped out through his fingers.

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Right. Almost all of the Pines’ were ticklish here. Maybe he should’ve seen that coming. 

It was positively overwhelming. Every curl of his blunt nails against the spot had his nerves lighting up in a frenzy, activating the useless instinct that had him squealing and laughing like this whole ordeal was the most hilarious joke he’d ever been told. But no part of this was funny!! Not when it was him! It was humiliating, at best, and a total disgrace to his reputation at worst. He was glad the folks at home couldn’t see this, because they would never let him live it down. 

“Ooh! Good call, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel praised, finally looking back up to meet his eyes with an approving smile on her face. She wished she could give him a thumbs up, but her hands were kinda busy. Bill couldn’t help but bristle at how unfair it was, that Stan could restrain him like this. He couldn’t lean forward even if he wanted to, and leaning backwards only pressed him further into that hand! And, somehow, despite the trap being objectively more simple, it was more confining! Now, he didn’t even have the privilege of flapping his hands, or making vaguely threatening gestures. And it all just tickled more! It was cruel, and unusual. He wrenched his eyes shut, and felt tears build in the corners. Crying had always been an annoying, uncontrollable thing his puppets did, but it felt especially humiliating in this context. Way to rub salt in the wound.

“MAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Whether it be a blessing or a curse, neither of the two around him had a chance to respond to that miserable display of emotion. Because, somehow mockingly, his body turned against him. When he tried to catch his breath, he felt a hiccup of air in his chest…that caused a snort. 

The two at either of his sides brightened. And the crowd aww’ed.

He’d forgotten they were there. He was on a stage, and yet, the fact that there were more than four of them here had slipped his mind. Earlier, if he’d remembered, he would’ve shrugged it off. Whatever, who cared if they saw him like this? It wasn’t his reputation that was going to suffer for it. It was Pine Tree’s, who now had to go home and live the rest of his life knowing that most of this town had seen him get tickled on stage. And that was still, objectively, true! He knew that. He knew none of them would think twice about it. So why did the sudden realization have his face blushing hotter? Why did he feel this horrible, anxious fluttering in his stomach, like he was full of spiders? He didn’t know. But he knew it had to end. 

He couldn’t take it. It wasn’t just his self-inflicted injuries that ached, now, it was others-- his sides, and his throat, and the corners of his lips, were all begging him to just stop laughing. Other than the ache, he was pretty sure he could feel this vessel overheating. Being put in this embarrassing position had struck a match inside of him that was slowly cooking him from the inside out. But more than that, he was tired. And that was hardly a feeling he even understood. Alas, the human urge to melt into a puddle and sleep for eight hours was, apparently, real. He was on the verge of uttering a genuine please, if this didn’t end soon, and he didn’t want to pull that card unless it was a life-or-death situation. So, apparently, he only had one choice left…

Damn it. It wasn’t fair! He’d let them have this win, but his fun wasn’t over. This plan was only the first of many tricks he had up his sleeve. He glanced up at Mabel one last time, eyes narrowing, as if he could glare at her very soul. But she only countered it with a smirk. She knew she couldn’t lose. She’d never lost a tickle fight against her brother! 

Suddenly, the sound of his laughter began to taper off. It quieted into a fit of twitchy, broken coughs; it almost sounded like he was glitching. But then he slumped in his spot, quiet…and all four hands retracted. Dipper’s body melted into his Grunkle’s chest, eyes closed, as if he was out cold. Both attackers pulled back for a moment, visibly tense, and met eyes. Mabel, because she was testing to see if this was a good sign…and Stan, because he was genuinely startled. Jesus, he’d never passed out like that before! Usually he called it, when he knew he was getting to the end of his rope! Did they kill him on accident? There was a beat of silence that was just long enough to raise concern...and then, quick enough to be startling, Dipper sat up. He gasped, and clutched his chest, panting like he’d been awoken from a nightmare. And, well…he sort of had! Both of his family members jumped.

“Ahh!! He’s back!!” Mabel accused, lifting her clawed hands in preparation to strike again. She didn’t expect her brother to scream, flinching backwards in horror. 

“AAHHhh, M-Mabel!! It’s mehehe, it’s me, it’s me!!” He pleaded, bringing up his arms to protect himself in a panic. The squeaky, nervous little voice sounded different than it had, just a moment ago. Less confident, less angry, and more…well, like her brother. If it was an act, it must’ve been a pretty convincing one, because she lowered her hands. Slowly, skeptically, Dipper lowered his, too…and she saw his round, brown eyes staring back. Her posture fully relaxed, and her grin returned to her face. It actually worked!! Tickling always worked. 

[cowboybeepboop]

My Dearest

“That was…” your voice trails off as you close your eyes sleepily.

“Incredible,” Javi finishes your sentence, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Pairing: Javier “Javi” Rivera x fem! Reader

Genre: smut but like with fluff as well

Word count: 3516

Summary: After reconnecting with Javi, you find yourself craving a much deeper connection.

a/n: Wrote this for my bestie bc he’s her twisters crush, but I can’t take him seriously without thinking of Hamilton 😭 also it was like so hard to even find a picture for this? Theres like no good pics of Anthony as Javi 😟 hope you enjoy!

Javi had successfully convinced you to join him, however you weren’t fully convinced this was such a great idea. Even seeing an overpass brought the memories back. The memories of running through the extreme winds, the metal digging into your skin, watching as Addy gets swept away by debris. Squeezing your eyes shut tight as a hand covers the leg that was cut.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you okay?” Javi’s hand covers your knee as he rubs gentle circles into the fabric.

“Mhm,” mustering up a smile, you open your eyes and turn to face him. “I’m okay.” He visibly relaxes as his lips curve into a warm smile. He begins to ramble and you tune him out, your eyes wander out the window once again, taking in the landscapes. The flat yellow-green terrain that seems endless, with the vast and open fields that stretch through the horizon. Clean yet musky air hits your nose as you take in deep slow breaths. On the edge of a field barbed-wire fencing lines the property with a barn and a lone windmill weathered by years of sun and wind exposure.

The truck comes to a stop at what appears to be a rest station, the lot is filled with storm-par vehicles, tourists, and storm chasers (who are only interested in the high of adrenaline). You follow Javi out of the car and he introduces you to his team. “So what do you think?” Your eyes were locked on the screen of his tablet. “Which storm should we follow?” Scott offers his opinion and you shoot Javi a pained expression.

“I think you should choose. It’s been a while.” The tablet feels heavy in your palms as you shift your weight between feet. His warm hand wraps around your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.

“Y/N come on, you’ve got this,” his voice is smooth and gentle. Biting down on your lip you turn your back to the group of guys, walking away. Javi stops them from following you as he notices your need to be alone. He knew you needed a few moments alone, and as he and his team watched you, his eyes were always on you.

The breeze moves gently through the air, creating a soothing consistent rustle in the dry grass. Fluffy clouds dot the sky with the sunlight bathing everything in a warm, soft glow. The wind carries a refreshing, warm sensation. As it flows, it creates a gentle, rhythmic sound that’s soothing and tranquil. You pick up a dandelion, crushing the soft puffball of seeds between your fingers. The ripple of the breeze carries the seeds into the air.

Turning your back you head back over to Javi and the rest of storm par. “Let’s go west.” You hand Javi his tablet.

“The one to the east has much better numbers” Scott interrupts.

”But the conditions don’t feel right, the cap is too strong. It'll never break.” Scott narrows his eyes at you, a scowl finding its way to his lips.

“You heard her lets go.” Javi’s hand presses into the small of your back.

—————

Once you were facing the storm you freaked out, you couldn’t do it. You made Javi get back in and you drove further away. But instantly knew you fucked up, your stomach dropped as he yells out “We’re too far!”

The car came to a screeching halt as you freaked out and Javi let out a quick curse, his fingers gripping the door handle tight. ”What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration as he turned to look at you.

”I’m sorry Javi.. I don’t know what I was thinking,” you let go of the steering wheel putting your shaky hands on top of your thighs. “I didn’t mean to mess with your data collection.” Your voice trails off as you look down at your lap.

Javi let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a moment to calm down. He turned to face you fully, his gaze softening slightly.

"I know you didn't mean to, Y/N," he said, his voice still tinged with irritation, but with a hint of understanding. "But we can't just drive away like that. We need to get closer if we want any usable data."

You nod and hop out of the car, watching as the storm moves further away. Javi gets out to call Scott and you sigh. “Fuck,” you curse under your breath.

“Come on Y/N, we should head to the motel,” his voice rings out interrupting your thoughts. You respond with a nod and get into the passenger side of the truck.

You sigh as Javi pulls into the motel parking lot, “I’m really sorry. I just froze, I don’t know what happened.” He nods.

“No it’s okay, there’s always tomorrow.” he smiles reassuringly, “do you want to chill out here for a while? I mean i’d need to go shower and change first but..”

“Javi I’m real tired… But maybe we could watch tv in your room for a bit?” You fumble with the straps of your backpack as you look over at him.

Javi studied your face for a moment, seeing the exhaustion written all over it. He knew that you were hesitant about joining the group of tourists outside, and he didn’t press the issue.

“Yeah, we can do that,” he replied with a nod. “Let’s go up to my room and watch TV for a bit. You can rest there.”

”Okay, come on then,” you lace your arm into his as you follow his lead. Javi couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He appreciated your closeness, and the way you sought comfort in him.

As you walked together towards his room, he couldn’t help but notice how tired you looked. He knew it had been a long day, and you needed to rest. You open the door with his key, you sigh softly as you let yourself in. Dropping your bag on the floor you stretch your arms out.

Javi follows you inside, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. The room feels cozy, the air slightly cool and crisp from the air conditioning.He walks over to the bed and takes a seat against the headboard, patting the space next to him on the mattress. “Come on, sit down and rest for a bit.”

You smile as you kick off your sneakers and plop onto the bed next to him. Finding your way into his arm cuddling against his chest and pressing your face against his shoulder. “I’ve missed this Javi..” your voice trails off as you turn the tv on.

Javi feels your warm body press against his as you cuddle into his chest, and his arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you closer. He can’t help but feel a sense of contentment at your words, and his heart skips a beat.

“I’ve missed this too,” he says quietly, his voice a gentle rumble against your ear. “It’s been too long.” You wrap an arm around his torso. Finding comfort in his familiar scent.

”What should we watch?” Your voice is gentle as you nuzzle your face into him. He runs a hand gently up and down your back, feeling the warmth and softness of your skin under his fingertips, you shiver from his touch.

“I don’t know, anything you want,” he replies, his voice soft and gentle. “Just pick something that doesn’t require too much thought.” He couldn’t help but feel a wave of comfort at your affectionate gesture. He adjusts his arm, pulling you even closer as he sinks back into the pillows, the warmth of your body against his own a soothing presence.

”Hmm,” you turn your body to face the tv flipping through the movies and shows, you finally decide on a random movie. Tossing the remote to the side you turn your attention back to Javi, repositioning yourself at his side. “I really missed you,” looking over at him you take the time to admire his face. You always did encourage him to cut his hair and damn does it look good on him. In the past 5 years you’ve forgotten just how handsome your friend truly is.

Javi feels your eyes on him as you reposition yourself at his side, and he can’t help but feel a wave of comfort and familiarity at your closeness. He looks down at you, feeling your gaze on his face, and he notices the way you’re studying him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers gently caressing your face. “I’ve missed you too,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours. “More than you know.” you find a soft blush painting your cheeks as you were caught staring at him. You hope he doesn’t realize you were checking him out, the embarrassment send a chill through your body

”Your hair looks good like this,” you reach up to touch his soft curls, “I’m glad you finally cut it,” Javi notices the soft blush that creeps onto your cheeks as your fingers reach up to touch his hair, and he can’t help but smile at your words.

"Thanks,” he says with a small chuckle, tilting his head slightly to the side to give you better access to his hair. “I’m glad you like it.” He realizes how comfortable it feels having you by his side, just like old times.

”Of course I do, I always told you to cut it,” your hand moves down from his hair to his jaw, you brush your pointer finger over his jawline. “You look so handsome with short hair,” you whisper into his ear. Your words echo in his ears and he can feel a faint blush creeping onto his own cheeks at the compliment.

He turns his head slightly to look at you, feeling your warm breath in his ear. “You always did hate my longer hair,” he responds with a chuckle, his voice a bit huskier than usual. Your tongue flicks out to wet your bottom lip as you notice the closeness of his face to yours. A loud crack of thunder sounds outside the window but does little to distract you both.

“I love your curls..” your hand finds its way back into his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands as you softly pull at the dark locks. His eyes lock onto yours, his heartbeat quickening in his chest as he realizes how close your face is to his. He can feel the heat of your breath on his skin, and his body instinctively leans in closer to you.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he lets out a soft gasp at the sensation of your fingers in his hair. “Mm,” he murmurs, “You always know how to drive me crazy with that.” You smile sweetly while maneuvering yourself onto his lap.

”I know, that's why I do it,” you giggle softly while putting your free hand against his chest. Your weight settles on him with a pleasant sensation. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as his hands grip your hips.

He can’t help but smile at your words, his eyes locked on your fingers as they rest against his chest. “Is that so?” he asks, his voice low and playful. “Just trying to drive me wild, hmm?”

”Always,” you whisper into his ear as you begin to pepper kisses from his temple to his jawline. Javi lets out an involuntary moan as your lips brush against his skin. The feeling of your kisses against him sends a wave of pleasure through his body, and his fingers grip your hips tighter.

He tilts his head back slightly, giving you better access to his skin, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he lets out a soft exhale. “You’re so cruel,” he husks out, his voice shaky with suppressed desire.

”But you love it, don’t you?” You tease softly before your lips connect with his neck once more. You move toward his collarbone and begin sucking soft hickies into his tanned skin. He lets out a soft moan feeling a sense of pure ecstasy at the sensation of your mouth on his skin.

He tilts his head back once more, exposing more of his neck to you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “God, yes I love it,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly. “You know I love it.” his hands still gripping your hips tightly as he tries to reign in the growing heat between you. The sensation of your touch combined with the knowledge that you were marking him up causes a pang of desire to shoot through his body.

You pull back admiring the pinkish marks you left upon his skin. Your hands move to the sides of his face as you run your thumbs over his cheek bones. “Are you going to make a move? Or keep letting me have full control?”

Javi looks at you with dark, lust-filled eyes as you pull back he can feel the heat radiating off of his body and he knows that he's moments from snapping.

But the sound of your question, spoken with a hint of challenge, makes him pause for a moment. He raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a low chuckle.

“You really want me to, don’t you?” he asks, his voice deep and ragged as he leans closer, his hands now gripping your waist with a newfound possessiveness.

You begin to move your hips, grinding against him, feeling his hardness through your pants. Your breath quickens as you kiss him, hands owing to his hair, your lips demanding and insistent.

Javi groans into your mouth, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips as he guides your movements. “That’s it, just like that baby.”

As you increase the pace, Javi’s hands move to your thighs, squeezing the sensitive flesh as he thrust upward to meet your motions. “You feel so good, darling. Let me hear you.” His hand rasps the back of your head leaning it to the side as he presses sloppy kisses to your cheek.

You moan as the pleasure builds inside of you, your head falling back as you give into the sensations “Javi.. oh god…”, he slides you off his lap. Pulling you away from your orgasm, your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he lays you down on your back.

”What was that for?” You whine a little, his fingers swiftly unbutton your shorts. He pulls them off of your legs, his lips connect with the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

“I want to hear you scream.” He encourages, his voice rough with desire. He pushes your legs apart as he slides your panties off next, groaning at the sight of your wet pussy. His lips connect with your tender clit, swirling circles around it with his warm tongue.

Your back arches off the bed as you tightly grip ahold of the sheets. Loud moans leaving your parted lips, your face contorting in pleasure. As if on cue, the storm outside intensifies, the wind howling and the rain pounding giants the window.

He moves you off the bed as he lays against it, lifting your body up to hover over his lips. You moan, gripping a hold of the headboard, biting down on the wood to muffle your cries.

Your hips buck as his tongue working its magic, his hands holding your thighs apart while devouring you. He moans, the sound vibrating against your sensitive leash, his arms pulling you closer, plunging his fingers into your wet heat.

”Oh god, Javi! Right there!” You gasp as his fingers find your sweet spot, your walls clenching around him. He smiles against you, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault. He adds a third finger, stretching and filling you as he feels your orgasm building.

Your hands tangle in his hair, your hips bucking wildly as you ride his face. Javi suckled your clit as his fingers curled inside you, sending you over the edge. You moan his name “I’m gonna cum“ squeezing your thighs around his head as you become more and more sensitive, but he doesn’t let up. You cry out, your body trembling your release washes over you, your juices coating his fingers and mouth.

“Oh god, Javi!” The pleasure becomes too much, you push his forehead gently as you try to squirm away, yet he holds your hips against his lips. After he finishes licking up your cum, he releases your body. You slide off his face, straddling his hips once again.

Javi takes your lips in a possessive kiss as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his body against yours. He holds you tight, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

As you come down from your high, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his. “It’s my turn now.” You tease. His eyes darken with desire as he moves his hands to the button of his jeans.

Your eyes widen as you see the bulge in his pants, a mix of anticipation and lust fluttering in your stomach. He pulls you into another passionate kiss, his hands moving to yours.

Javi lowers your hands to his belt, your breath hitches as you undo the buckle. Your fingers moving to his fly, sliding the zipper down. As you pull his jeans and boxers down, his hard length springs free, thick and veined, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You bite your look, looking up at him with desire.

“You like what you see, babe?” Javi murmures, his voice thick with need as he slides his hand in your hair. You nod, glancing down at his cock. You reach out wrapping your hand around him, feeling his head and smoothness.

Javi groans, his head falls back as you begin to stroke him, your movements slow and exploratory. “Fuck, just like that… feels so good.” You lean forward, your tongue darting out to taste the salty drop of pre-cum on the tip.

“Oh damn!” Javi cries out, his hips bucking as your warm, wet mouth closing around him. You take your time, your lips and tongue working him over, savoring the taste and feel of him in your mouth.

He clenches the bedsheets, his body rigid as he tries to hold back, wanting to prolong the moment. “Y/N, I’m not gonna last if you keep this up” with a final, deep suck, you release him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

You position yourself above his dick, your eyes heavy-lidded as you reach down, guiding I’m to your entrance. Javi groans as he pushes inside of you, your warmth enveloping him and your muscles clenching around his shaft.

“Oh god, you feel so good,” you moan, throwing your head back as he begins to move, his hips snapping as he thrusts into you.

Javi’s eyes roll back as he feels the tightness of you around him, your wet heat drawing him in. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight..” finding a rhythm, he begins to move faster, his hands grasping your hips as he pushes into you, your flesh slapping together.

You meet his thrusts, your nails raking down his back as the pleasure builds inside you once more. “Fuck Javi! I’m gonna cum again!” Your walls clench around him, your juices flowing as you cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Unable to hold back any longer, Javi surrenders to the pleasure, his hips snapping faster as he chases his own release. “Y/N, I’m cumming!” He buries his face in your nape as he fills you, his release coating your insides as he thrusts into you. Your bodies joined in the ultimate act of pleasure.

As both of your breathing slows, you collapse beside him. He pulls you close, your sweat-dampened bodies sticking together. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as he keeps your body tight against his, seeming as if he’s afraid to let you go.

You smile, tracing patterns on his chest as you snuggle into his side, wrapping your leg around his thigh. “That was…” your voice trails off as you close your eyes sleepily.

“Incredible,” Javi finishes your sentence, his voice filled with satisfaction. With a content sigh, you press a gentle kiss to his chest, the sound of the storm outside a gentle lullaby as you drift off to sleep, safe and satisfied in Javi’s arms.

Your shared passion had healed old wounds, the storm outside a reflection of the tempestuous desires that had been released, leaving only peace and contentment in its wake.

[countessvalentines]

Private Dancer

pairing: cooper howard/f!reader

word count: 2.1K

warnings: 18+ Only, Minors Do Not Read!! sexual tension, smut, P in V sex, light bondage, swearing,

summary: you meet cooper howard at a vault tec singles mixer after his divorce, things heat up when he recognizes you from your night-time activities...

notes: this is my first time posting a fic, pls be nice :)

dividers by @saradika

gif by @doortotomorrow

This is definitely not where you'd thought you'd find yourself on Valentine's day… in an over-expensive and exaggerated bunker.

Vault-Tecs Hollywood Vault just happened to be completed on Valentine's Day, so they combined their grand reveal with a singles mixer. They definitely know how to put a positive spin on the end of the world, or at least, try to.

The place is decorated to the nines… even Vault Boys dressed like Cupid. The usual blue and yellow replaced with pink and red, hearts everywhere and roses sprinkled throughout. There are people dressed in the trademark jumpsuits going around passing out champagne, and you grab the closest glass as it passes by.

You don't even know what youre doing here,

this isn't usually your idea of fun, but Vault-Tec damn near guaranteed to match you with the "ideal partner" after all of the personality tests they made you do. You figured, what do you have to lose? They have so much money and if you get a free few drinks and a night out on them, it's worth at least an hour of your time.

"Ya got anything stronger?" a familiar voice sounds from behind you and I instinctively turn around. No. It can't be. Cooper. Fucking. Howard. You'd heard about the divorce, so did everyone, but this is the last place you'd expect to find him. A Vault-Tec singles mixer? They must have paid him to make an appearance.

Before you realize you've been staring, he makes eye contact with you and dips his hat in my direction. You're frozen and starstruck, he was your first crush…

You used to watch his movies every Sunday, they'd comfort you when you were sick…and when you werent. It's too late to run as he approaches you and you do your best to think straight.

"Pardon me, miss. I think you dropped something." He says as he points down to the red, heart-shaped clutch you swore you were holding a minute ago. You blush in embarrassment and begin to bend down, but he beats you to the punch.

He stands up and holds the bag in one hand, holding it out for you to retrieve. Still apple cheeked, you reach for the bag and your hand brushes his, and let it linger a little too long.

"Of course, I try to make a good impression and I end up looking like a fool instead."

"No, not at all. We movie stars all just look slick because we get to do it more than once. In life, we just get the one shot."

You grin at his immediate charm and winning smile. It's hard not to blush, but you try to cover your girlish glee by taking a sip of champagne.

"Cooper Howard." He introduces himself as if the entire world doesn't know who he is.

You introduce myself in turn and he clinks the glass of whiskey he was just handed against your champagne glass.

"I hope you don't mind me sayin, but, you don't seem like the type of woman to be at a function like this."

It's not what you expect to hear, and it seems to be a compliment… it can't be, right?

"Oh? What makes you say that Mr. Howard?" I ask earnestly.

"Well, you're one of the Dollface Dames ain'tcha? One of Lola's girls."

As a married man for most of the time you've been a burlesque performer, you wouldn't have expected him to have seen me on that tiny Santa Monica stage.

"How'd you know that?" You ask with piqued interest.

"I've been a regular at that bar, oh, going on ten years now. Usually don't make it to the Wednesday night shows, on account of being a workin' man and all. But, lately, I ain't been workin' as much, found myself there the last few shows."

"I can't say that makes me feel any less embarrassed around you." You confess.

"Oh, forgive an old cowboy if I've made you uncomfortable…"

"No, it's just that… you know what's underneath this dress." Your cheeks only get redder and you feel yourself even more flush than before.

Cooper seems to blush along with you, and gives a sideways smile.

"I s'pose I do…" He trails off as he takes his own awkward sip. By the look on his face, you feel like he might be picturing it…

"I'd ironically feel more comfortable taking my clothes off in front of strangers." You continue earnestly.

After a pause that seems like it lasts an eternity, you get the courage to break the silence.

"You're right though…" you agree. "It's not my usual scene." You take another sip of champagne, polishing it off and putting the glass down on a nearby tray.

Cooper exhales a laugh. "Yeah, I think im with you on that."

The thought of Cooper Howard twirling around a bar half naked with glimmering rhinestone panties is enough for you to erout into laughter and he can't help but join you.

You lead him down hallway after hallway, twisting and turning until you're sure that it's far enough away.

You press the button on the wall, and it opens into a spacious suite. There's a balcony that overlooks the simulated pacific ocean with a perpetual sunset. It's quite breathtaking, but you're not here for the view.

You motion for him to follow you inside and you take his hand. You lead him to the edge of the bed and push him gently against the chest.

"Ready for your private performance Mr. Howard?" You ask, taking a pose in front of him.

"As I'll ever be, sweetheart." He replies, resting his hands on the bed and leaning back slightly.

You begin to dance seductively to the song playing in your head. You turn around, facing away from him and swaying your hips from side to side. Slowly you pull one sleeve of your dress down over your shoulder. You flash your eyes to catch his gaze and smirk when you notice him transfixed.

The dress gets to your waist and you pull it down slowly so it pools at your ankles. The black lace of your underwear enhancing the beauty of your skin.

Again you turn, this time facing him. Your hands crossed across your chest to hide your immodesty for now.

You manage to reach a hand up in your hair and grab it between your fingers, twirling it and pulling it in a flirtatious manner.

Cooper is watching intently, eyes barely blinking as he follows your movements. You turn your dance moves into steps, moving closer to him. As you do, you notice his growing erection and can't help but bite your lip.

It's then you feel is best to reveal your assets fully to him, and you teasingly move your arm away from your chest.

"Ain't you a sight." He says in a raspy, deep whisper.

You're so close now that you're standing between his thighs, you lean forward, sliding your hands from his shoulders down his arms to his hands. You pick them up and place his hands on your waist before you whisper in return.

"Your turn, Mr. Howard."

One by one you begin unbuttoning his black, button down shirt and kissing each bit of skin you uncover, leaving little red lipstick marks behind. You're able to get to his navel before he puts two fingers below your chin and forcefully pushes up so you look at him.

He leans down to catch your lips with his and kisses you deeply. He runs his tongue over yours before sucking your lower lip. You stand up briefly, only for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer.

Without a thought, you straddle his waist and begin undoing his embellished, silver belt buckle. You're able to pull it out of the loops of his black jeans, but then he grabs it from you.

For a moment, the flurry of kisses stops and he smirks at you. In a matter of seconds, he's expertly tied the belt around your hands.

You've no choice but to keep them together in front of you and he tightens the grip so you can't get yourself free.

"Now, that ain't too tight, is it darlin?"

You're taken aback so much all you can do is shake your head no. You weren't expecting it, but you also weren't expecting to be so aroused because of it either.

He nods and sits up on the bed for a moment to unbutton and remove his jeans and boots. His attention goes back to you, kneeling with hands restrained.

With calloused fingers, he grabs your jaw and whispers so close you can feel his lips move against yours.

"You're sure you want this?"

You nod softly before taking his lips in yours again. After a few more passionate kisses, you move your lips to his chest, down his stomach and on his inner thighs.

You push your body against his so he lies back, your silky hair brushing against his sensitive skin. You look up into his eyes, watching you with lustful interest and you smile knowingly before taking his cock in your lips.

A blissful sigh escapes him as his lead leans back in pleasure. You wrap your mouth around the tip, then remove it briefly before taking a bit more of him between your lips and repeating, tasting more and more of him each time your mouth returns.

You feel his strong fingers intertwine with your hair and pull, instinctively you look to him in response.

"Cmere." He motions with his free hand.

You adhere to his request and he slides his hands over your breasts, to your sides and your waist. He digs his fingers into your skin as he pulls you against his body.

You place your tied hands behind his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. He's holds you up with ease, his strength evident.

Effortlessly, he lifts you and slides you onto his length gradually. He exhales a satisfied groan as he begins to move you both. He fills you entirely, and you can't help but whimper as he continues to guide you along his shaft.

You feel your arousal build faster and the sensations of lust increasing, your hips instinctively grinding against him. You yearn to feel him, to feel the way his cock feels inside you and how he positions it just so.

He puts one arm underneath you to hold you up and with the other, his fingers reach between you and find your clit. He starts swirling his finger around in a circle over the sensitive bud as your whimpers get more and more frequent and higher pitched.

"Cooper…don't stop." You plead with him in a whisper against his cheek.

"I don't intend to, darlin." He reassures, his breath hitching and his own groans and grunts creating a melody of sexual pleasure.

As he promised, his fingers continue to expertly stroke your clit, and his cock continues to buck into you as he leads you to the nearest wall to push you into it.

With a soft thud, he pushes into you and buries his face in your hair. You can feel your muscles contracting around his shaft, your

cunt throbbing in time with his thrusts.

"That's it, baby." He coos in your ear. "Come for me." Coopers instructions reverberate through your body and it doesn't take long for it to oblige.

You feel yourself convulsing around him, your head tossing back and your hands trying to grip his shoulders. You claw at him as you feel your ecstacy reach its peak. You scream in time with your release, repeating his name over and over like a prayer.

"Cooper…Cooper… mmm." You try to speak in between gasps but are unable to say much.

He follows quickly behind, his release spilling into you and you can feel the warmth flooding you inside. You plant a soft and tender kiss on his gasping lips, gripping him tightly with your thighs.

His body starts to come down, the both of you catching your breath and holding each other skin to skin. Neither one of you want to break the contact, and Coopers eyes flutter open to meet your gaze.

"That was one hell of a dance, sugar."

[hitoshiyoshi]

save me, cupid ! | midoriya izuku

synopsis ↬ having a cupid quirk is proven to be a curse

warnings ↬ angst(?) but not too bad, honestly i don't know what to label this exactly lol, the reader acts like a yandere, unrequited love, love-starved reader, just an idea of what it would be like to have a cupid quirk, mentions of red string, mentions of violence, my apologies if it sounds bad, it's just an idea, obsessive reader

pairings ↬ crush!midoriya izuku x gn!yandere!reader

word count ↬ 4.7k

Since you first discovered your quirk at the tender age of four years old, you've always hated it. It had no purpose; no ability to defend or protect yourself, much less others. You might as well have been born quirkless. Whenever you told anyone about it, you always heard the same words. They would either reaffirm how pointless your quirk was or talk about how powerful it was, but never good enough for you to become a hero. Of course, you didn’t mind their ignorant comments. Until you noticed the behavior of your friends change upon telling them, always leading to the same outcome.

You have a type of mind-control quirk, called ‘Cupid’. Your quirk allows you to see whether two people are soulmates; when you concentrate long enough, a red string appears on the ring finger of your target connecting them to their soulmate. You can also make two people fall in love by locking eyes with your target, repeating their name, the name of another target, and a simple phrase: “loves you”. The same is true with the reverse phrase, “loves you not”.

After numerous attempts on yourself, you concluded that your quirk could not work on you. Despite this, you still explored the idea. Ever so often, you would come up with ideas but each failed.

You weren’t immune to crushes. When you tried to make them love you, your quirk would never activate on them. It was hard for you to understand why at first.

At first, it began when you noticed thin red strings attached to the fingers of some classmates in school. Some connected students that were in the same class while others stretched far outside the building, until they were out of view. When asking your friends about the strings, they seemed confused and looked around but couldn’t see the strings attaching them together. Only you could see the red string. It was like this for a couple years, a thin rope connecting two people.

There was no red string on your ring finger. Concentrating on your hands and trying to find one only brought you head splitting migraines.

You could vaguely remember when you learned about the other powers of your quirk. School ended early that day and one of your best friends insisted on going to the nearby park before heading home. As you sat close to a field of buttercup flowers, they picked one of the stems. Your friend professed their deep affections for another classmate. You two were young and it was nothing but puppy love. Plucking the yellow petals from the growing bud, they repeated the name of their crush followed by "...loves me," and then another petal, "...loves me not".

Staring at their ring finger, you noticed the string trail off in the distance. A sudden, innocent, thought came to your mind. Tapping your friend on the shoulder and giggling, you tore off one of the petals before locking eyes. They seemed to lose focus as they watched your actions and peered down at the flower in curiosity. You called their name, making eye-contact again, and repeated the name of their crush, "...loves you".

It was only meant to be a harmless joke, but as you watched your friend's eyes go into a cloudy gaze, you panicked. Shaking their shoulders and calling them again, they seem to regain consciousness. Your friend's eyes quickly darted across their surroundings until they finally noticed your presence. Except, they began to act abnormal.

Rambling about their crush in a feverish manner; how they wanted to touch, feel, kiss, and caress them. Eyes glowing pink with lovestruck passion and a deep red blush warmed their cheeks. You tried to speak to them and ask them what was wrong. Until they scowled at you, slapping your hands away when you tried to reach out to them. Screaming nonsense about how you weren't their beloved, only their true love could touch them!

Soon, they ran off — searching desperately for their sweetheart.

The next day, you saw your two best friends holding hands and whispering sweet nothings without a care in the world. You tried to speak to them, but you were always ignored. When lunchtime came, you tried sitting next to them, only for them to immediately stand and move to another table. Eventually, they refused to acknowledge you. You had no use for them, only a burden and a distraction from their beloved. They left you alone...

Alone.

It took you some time to realize — you thought the world was being cruel when you noticed other classmates begin to avoid you as well — it was more than matchmaking. It was based on attraction. The stronger the target's love was for their partner, the higher the chance of success. The disgusted stares of your classmates became a repetitive occurrence; you only used your quirk once yet they became naturally repulsed by you.

Your friend's love deflected a force onto you that repelled everyone away, an unfortunate weakness and downside of your quirk. Soon, you were abandoned. The small acquaintances you had, dropped like flies.

As your new friend Ochaco approaches you in the lobby after school, you wonder how you managed to defy the negative effect of your quirk usage. Everyone in your previous school either hated you or had some type of unjustifiable prejudice against you; if people already disliked you, might as well have fun with your quirk, right? Creating short relationships with nearly all of your ex-classmates, it was pure enjoyment.

Receiving the acceptance letter from U.A. was a pure miracle. You didn't bother trying to get into the hero course, letting the words of your peers control you. Instead, you opted for the General Studies course once deciding that the business and support courses were not the most ideal option for you. You managed to befriend a boy named Shinsou Hitoshi who didn't seem too bothered by your quirk.

Although some of your classmates blatantly ignored you, he was unaffected. You didn't find a threat in his mind-control quirk; you found solace in the similarity of your quirks. He accompanied you to your classes and was a shoulder to lean on when you were feeling down.

Ochaco waves at you and urges you to come closer, a pleasant smile spreads across her lips. In the distance you see her friend, Midoriya Izuku speaking to a tall, blue-haired boy with glasses. Izuku... You can't remember where you first heard his name or noticed him, but your unnatural infatuation with him had grown surplus since then. Was it at the Sports Festival? Or perhaps when you noticed him walking in the halls one day and felt your heart-pounding in your chest as you stared. Izuku felt your eyes on him and peered back at you with a soft gaze, blushing and smiling before continuing his walk.

Maybe it was his gentle nature towards you that made you feel at peace. Although Shinsou was nice to you, there was something about Izuku. You already knew it had to be a crush; the feeling was so familiar to you. Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest infatuation, though. Every time he was in your vicinity, you could feel your heart threaten to rip out of your rib cage and leap into his arms. He was one of the few that didn't seem too bothered by your quirk or see you as a nuisance.

There was a need, no, a desperation for him to be with you. Always having a watchful eye on him, you studied nearly all of his movements. Feeling someone's gaze on him, Izuku would glance around and search for your eyes. Only for you to quickly shift away, but he wasn't an idiot. He caught your glance a few times and once thought about approaching you, but he never did.

It was impossible to have him reciprocate your feelings, you were positive. He didn't know you despite recognizing your face and eyes. Of course, you knew so many things about him; sneakily following him home after classes, overhearing him and All Might talk about their association — how cute! You were the first to know about his secret, a good lover should know these things, right? It was truly amazing how after all these months, he hadn't noticed you.

Thank goodness his mother wasn't home when you broke into their apartment and went through his bedroom. The All Might memorabilia was nauseating, but if he loved it then you should too! A little shrine of his possessions and unmentionables started to build quickly in the corner of your room. How devoted you are... it's only fair that he should be the same. You desperately wanted him to act as such, but he never did.

Using your quirk was not an option. Even if it was, his attraction to you wasn't strong enough... yet.

There was also another problem: the girl approaching you right now, Ochaco. It was clear as day that she shared the same affections as you. Anyone could notice the two students shyly flirting and blushing around each other. How his face would light up whenever she entered the room or how her cheeks would turn a dark shade of pink around him. You were familiar with their actions because you witnessed them on others in the past. A sharp sting of jealousy arose as you watched them.

You seethed with envy around her, befriending her was a fine way to keep her in your proximity at all times. She was another one who didn't mind your quirk. So, you decided to wait until the perfect moment came.

Only God knows how many times you needed to stop yourself from intertwining your fingers into her brunette hair and bashing her head into the concrete — she'd become so unsightly. Blood staining the ground with purple and black bruises spreading across her swollen face. But if you did that, the teachers would surely have you expelled. Perhaps, her parents would press charges on you. Then, you could never see Izuku again. And the poor look on his face from watching would surely traumatize him... there wasn't any possibility you would dare.

You watched their interactions through gritted teeth every time they spoke to each other. You've had this quirk since the day you were born. The expressions of true love and light touches your victims would share with their beloved was all the same. Their love had blossomed like a field of tulips once spring comes.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Are you alright?" Ochaco asks as she stands in front of you. She waves her hand in your face after a few seconds to gain your attention.

"Oh... H- Hey, Ochaco... Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Giving her your best smile as reassurance but she doesn't seem to believe you.

"You weren't...? But you were staring right at me?" Fuck. She turns her head and looks behind her, searching around. His shy green eyes meet her gaze before quickly looking away. "Were you looking behind me...? Is it Deku?" You want to leave the conversation, but you know how persistent she would become.

"No," Her head quickly snaps back towards you, intrigued but calm. "Don't worry about it. I guess I'm just tired."

"Ah, okay..." She peers down at the ground as her rosy cheeks begin to deepen their color. "Well... I actually wanted to ask you a favor."

"What is it?"

"I know you don't like using your quirk often..." You've told her your quirk numerous times and always mentioned your reluctance to use it. You realize now that was a mistake. Not want to repeat your years at your previous school all over again. "...and it's OK if you don't want to do it. I won't force you." She's still staring down, too embarrassed to continue but she still attempts.

"It's fine, don't worry."

"Could you... Could you use your quirk to make Deku like me back? I really like him but... I'm not sure if he feels the same way about me... I'm kinda scared, you know?"

You pause at the girl standing in front of you, still hiding her face as her eyes cast towards the ground. Make him like her back...? Why would you ever do that? As if it wasn't obvious to nearly everyone in their class and, even some random students, that they had feelings for each other. Why would she need you to do something she could do herself? She's lucky her eyes are fixed towards the ground or else she would've noticed your clenched fist landing somewhere painful.

Truthfully, she didn't know how envious you were of her position. You weren't even sure of the extremes you would endure just to have him notice you. Alas, perhaps now is not the time. You knew it would end in the same outcome as all your other attempts.

"Just confess to him. I'm sure he'll accept it." You never wanted to use your quirk to find the string on Ochaco's fingers, you were too afraid. You began to walk away from her after unsuccessfully hiding your scorned voice, but she tightly held onto the sleeve of your gray blazer.

"W- Wait!" Refusing to turn around, you let her finish. "Can't you at least tell me if we're soulmates?"

"I won't." The girl seems to sulk at your rejection, her grip on your blazer loosens before she pulls away.

"Well, I guess it's wrong to want to know. I'm sorry for pressuring you..." As you begin to forgive her, she interrupts you. "I hope this isn't too personal for you, but is it true that you like him too?"

"Where did you hear that?" You snap your head and see her nervously scratching her neck, glaring up at you.

"I always see you staring at him! Don't you think it's kinda weird?"

"What do you mean?"

"He has no idea who you are and the way you look at him can be kinda creepy sometimes…” Ochaco straightens her back, stiffening her posture in an uncomfortable way while smiling at you tauntingly. Her brows furrowed as she peers around the room.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ochaco.”

“But it’s true!” She twirls her brown hair between her fingertips, thinking once again before asking. “Is that why you won’t tell me if we’re soulmates?”

The thought of you two having the same crush makes Ochaco sick to her stomach. She doesn't know the reason why. It was an uneasy feeling that remained throughout your entire interaction.

“I’ve told you countless times before, I don’t use my quirk as much as I did in the past…” Ochaco holds her head down in defeat again, on the brink of giving up. “But since you keep pushing me, fine. Give me your hand. Let me check for the string first.”

She beams up at you, eagerly passing her ring finger to you. Filled with a new found excitement — Oh, she can’t wait! Ochaco’s eyes lit up with the same expression as every other person who has asked you. Each hand you’ve held has prayed for the same outcome. The warm, yet sweaty palms feel common. Occasionally twitching their fingers with anticipation.

You gaze at her ring finger, ignoring the distractions around you. Your eyes squint until you can see the familiar red string appearing on her skin. It’s looped perfectly where a wedding ring will be in the future. The string trails down her arm, falling to the floor and continuing behind her. It cuts through a group of students loitering around nearby and past chairs scattered through the room.

Your heart pounds in your chest, beating heavy like a drum with each second that is drawn out. It ends with a girl throwing away her trash. You want to breathe out a sigh of relief, but she walks towards one of her friends. And of course, there he was. Completely oblivious to the scene happening a few feet away from him.

Ochaco, moving restlessly on her feet, turns behind once more.

“It’s Izuku, isn’t it? It’s him, right?” She grins, ear to ear. It’s unknown if she’s ecstatic about being soulmates or if she can no longer worry about other competition — including you.

"Of course, it's him."

"So, can you use your quirk on him?" She hops around excitedly on the tips of her toes. Her face is as red as a cherry, but she's more confident than before. "For me? Please?"

"I don't even need to do that, Ochaco. Everyone in your class knows that he has feelings for you. You don't need me."

"Are you jealous? Is that why? Come on, (Y/N). There's nothing about you that he would want, anyways." She stares up at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin. "Use your quirk to find someone else, it shouldn't be hard."

But… But it’s just not fair, you tell yourself. In all honesty, you should’ve known. There were too many signs that you chose to ignore. This was the reason you hesitated for so long. As Cupid, you already knew. Now you were destined to have the same fate once again. Should you tell her? Even now, you aren’t sure why you agreed. Should your spirit to find clarity and let go?

Maybe you will stop caring about Izuku. Forget about the burning passion that flourishes through your body with every glance you give to him.

But you don’t want to do that right now.

“Uraraka Ochaco,” Surely, you still have a chance. Your eyes are locked on each other. “Midoriya Izuku, loves you not. Forget him.”

Her breath stops, her eyes become dilated and watery. You’ve never seen someone react in that way before. She stares at you with a vacant expression while you examine her face. Ochaco’s mouth is slightly agape, like she’s frozen in place. You feel her pulse start to slow down gently. Grasping her shoulder, you shake the girl out of her trance — you can’t have her passing out in front of everyone!

“Wha… What happened?” Ochaco returns to normal — well mostly.

“You were asking about Izuku, don’t you remember?”

Her cheeks turn a dark rosy color and for a second, you wonder if you’ve finally lost your quirk. Until she responds:

“Izuku… Izuku…” She glances around the room, trying to search for an answer in her mind. It sounds familiar, that name. “I don’t know who that is,” She tries to sound confident, but you can tell that she doubts herself.

“He’s your classmate.” Did she respond to your ‘forget him’ command? Has your quirk evolved since you last tried to use it? All that time you’ve spent with Shinsou must have rubbed off. She seems lost for a moment; She blushes, yet a frown is worn on her face.

“Oh, a classmate. Then why can’t I..?” Her head is empty with every attempt at trying to remember him. In the few chances that she can, his existence and the thought of him makes her sour. Barely knowing his face, yet she cannot stop the disgust that emerges.

“Ochaco? Isn’t there somewhere you should be right now?”

“Right! Gosh… My head feels like it’s spinning.” You release her hand, she gathers her belongings and tidies up. “I’ve got to go home and help my parents with some stuff. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!”

Ochaco runs off to the exit, hopping away like a rabbit fleeing from a predator. It was for the best; you try to tell yourself. But the guilt of it all eats away at your soul. You wait for a few minutes before you step outside into the warm air, you aren’t sure of the feelings erupting inside. You should’ve been relieved; no need to worry about Ochaco or any other person in the way. If you needed to, you knew how to handle it.

By now, Izuku and his classmates have left the building. Ochaco stands by the entrance of the school. You see two of her friends nearby, chatting away and completely oblivious to the spell you’ve cast on her. The separate groups don’t seem to notice each other yet; they stand on opposite ends with their backs turned.

The time was perfect, you clutched the envelope in your pocket tightly.

Your legs move on their own at first, running to the fluffy haired boy. He smiled at his friends, unaware of your heavy steps to him. You bump into a few students who gave you annoyed glances. There’s no time to apologize to them, you move with a mission.

He doesn’t notice you behind him at first. Izuku was only alerted from the expressions of his friends surrounding him and the softest tap on his shoulder.

“Izuku?” You say quietly while he turns his body to face you.

“Yeah, what’s up?” The others around him paused their conversation.

“Oh, I just wanna have a chat with you… I hope you’re not busy.” You replied while pointing to his friends behind him. “By the way, I’m (Y/N)…”

“Ah, I’ve seen you around the school before.” Izuku waves goodbye to his friends and pulls you aside to talk.

"Really...?” He knows who you are! You reach into your pocket and pull out the letter. It’s pink and decorated with colorful hearts on the outside. Your hands tremble with the paper; shyly and with your head focused on the ground, you slip the letter in his hands.

“What’s this?” Izuku asks and peers up at you, your fingertips graze his hand ever so slightly — the tingling against his skin draws him closer.

“Midoriya Izuku,” With the command of your voice, his mind becomes a fog. The same unaware expression as Ochaco was written over his face. “Uraraka Ochaco loves you not.”

“I… I…” Unlike Ochaco, Izuku tries to fight the spell as he did at the sports festival against Shinsou — except your quirk was far stronger than his. His eyes become vacant; things were working nicely in your favor. You just needed to make sure.

“Izuku?”

“What...? Oh,” Izuku regains consciousness and focuses his eyes on the pink envelope in his hand. Outstretching some of your fingers, you gesture for him to open it.

"It's for you. I wrote it..."

He sloppily tears the letter open - all that effort you put into folding it, you cringe a bit as you watch. Izuku's eyes scan your writing, widening with every word. His cheeks tint into a light pink color, a soft grin adorns his lips:

"Izuku, from the day I saw you at the Sports Festival, I truly experienced a love that I've never known before,"

But of course, it's short-lived.

Clinching onto the paper tightly, he begins to tremble.

"And that love is one that I want to be kept near to me, have you ever felt this before?"

. . .

"My dearest, Izuku. My nights have been endless with thoughts of you. I can hear it, your footsteps in the night. I feel as if I'm going insane,"

. . .

"It's shameful of me to admit. How pretty and soft your skin looks; I've fantasized about this — dragging my sharpest knife across your every vein and marking you,"

. . .

"I want to rip your heart out of your chest with my own hands and keep it to myself, blood and all. I'll give you mine in return. I will surrender myself to you,"

. . .

"I wonder what it feels like to be inside you, inside your mind. I want to touch you, I want to feel you,"

. . .

"My dearest, Izuku. Will you let me do that? Will you give yourself to me?"

Izuku's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water; he becomes completely at a loss for exactly what to say. At first, you thought it must've been side effects from your quirk, until...

"Well? I put a lot of thought into it. I know we haven't spoken before, and I might not be your type, but..."

"I appreciate the- the letter..." He fumbles out, unwilling to face you. His eyes travel from the paper to the orange-magenta sky. Anywhere besides you. "But I'm in the hero course, you know. It's ve- very tiring. I can't manage a relationship n- now. I'm sorry..."

Yet, deep down, Izuku can't help but pity you. He would've at least considered if you hadn't written about wanting to stab him.

"I see," Your words are barely audible, even with the close space between you two. "So, that's your excuse. Well, don't worry," The only thing you could do was smile, trying to balance out the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Excuse...?" What a funny word to use. The vacancy in his heart is profound; a force is stopping him. He knows, you must've done something to him.

"Never mind."

Izuku passes the letter back to you and takes a few steps back. Slowly and with a step at a time. He waits for the perfect opening and retreats to the safety of his friends. They all cheer him on, seeing him chat up someone for the first time — unaware of the contents of your 'love letter'.

A stream of tears falls from your eyes, traveling from your damp cheeks to the paper in your hands. It ruins your perfectly crafted letter that you spent months preparing. What a waste. Izuku can hear your sniffles as his friends quiet down. He was such a good-natured boy, that was what you loved him for. Deep down, he wanted to calm you, but he refuses to move from his spot.

It's not fair.

Cupid. It's a useless quirk that you will forever hate. The love you truly want will never come to you — it's your karma, anyways. Well, it wouldn't be too big of a deal. All the hearts you've meddled with will find new loves eventually. Once they learn to overcome the emptiness where their soulmates should be, they wouldn't need to worry.

Why can't these feelings just disappear?

You had a plan. Should you try it? One last chance to see if you quirk could work on yourself. How often do quirks work on their users? It was a rarity, and you were willing to take that risk.

Opening your phone, you place your earbuds in your ears.

"(Y/N) (L/N), Midoriya Izuku loves you not." A recording of your voice plays. Only an experiment to see if it would actually work on you. The thought came to you after a period of frustration.

Eagerly, you waited for your mind to become foggy. No thoughts and a blank expression; the curse of all your victims before you took them out of a trance. The phrase replays multiple times in your ears, and you march off the campus back home. Although you tried, deep down in your heart, you refused to let go. You clasped your eyes shut and prayed, by some miracle that it stops.

"Midoriya Izuku loves you not." "Midoriya Izuku loves you not." "Midoriya Izuku loves you not." It continued, soon sounding like a chant with the way your voice rings.

With the last echo of the sentence in your ears, the pain in your heart travels straight to your head. Crying out in distress, a wave of pressure flooded to every inch above your neck. You stopped in your tracks, nearly ripping out locks of hair trying to suppress it. With every movement, your head ached and throbbed to the rhythm of your pulse.

And like a true hero, he ran to you at the first yelp that left your lips.

"(Y/N)! Are you OK?" A fluffy, green-haired boy asked. He placed his hand on your shoulder, trying to lift your head up to get a better look at you.

What a good-natured boy he was. You'd be fawning over his actions on a normal evening. But unfortunately for him, you weren't in the mood.

"Get the fuck off me." Your body reacted before anything else. With a strong shove, he let go of his hold on you. The paper you were holding slipped out of your hands, and the boy with the familiar face stared at you in disbelief.

The farther you walk away from him, the more the pain of your headaches soothes. Who was that?

You try to remember along your journey to the train station, but after a while, you lose interest.

[succubusmelt]

Ok, since my birthday is coming up, (I’m turning 19 on the 20th! :D) can we have a fanfic about all the yanderes like Jack/Joseph, Peter Dunbar, Alan Orion, and John Doe planning a surprise birthday for them? Like the MC had forgotten that their birthday is coming up so the yanderes plan out a small little surprise like a date at anyplace. It could be at a park, home, movie, theme park, restaurant, ANYWHERE!

Thank you!! Here’s some tea for you 😌☕️

Tk for the tea! :) and happy birthday~

SUNNYDAY JACK!

That morning, you awoke and began your daily routine as usual. You wandered into the kitchen half asleep, unaware that today was in fact your birthday.

Jack, the cheerful phantom clown who only you could see, had been planning a surprise for weeks. As you entered the kitchen, Jack jumped out from behind the counter shouting "Happy birthday!" while throwing confetti.

You looked at him confused. "It's not my birthday Jack."

Jack laughed. "Silly goose, of course it is! I've had this date marked for months."

You checked your phone and saw to your surprise that it was indeed your birthday. You had completely forgotten.

"Huh, would you look at that. I totally forgot it was my birthday today," you chuckled.

Jack beamed. "Well then, good thing I didn't forget! I've made your favorite chocolate chip pancakes and have a special birthday cupcake waiting."

You smiled at Jack's thoughtfulness. "Aww Jack, you didn't have to do all this."

"Nonsense!" said Jack. "Your birthday is important, we must celebrate!"

You sat down at the small kitchen table as Jack served you a stack of fluffy pancakes and a cup of coffee.

Jack then brought over a lit candle stuck in a cupcake, singing the birthday song at the top of his lungs. You couldn't help but chuckle at Jack's enthusiastic yet slightly off-key singing.

You blew out the candle and made a wish. The two of you spent the morning chatting and laughing over breakfast.

You were grateful to have Jack to help make your birthday feel special in his own unique way.

"Thank you, Jack, you're the best person I could ask for today," you said sincerely.

Jack beamed. "Anything for you, sunshine!" he replied. "Now, how about some movies and maybe cuddle in the sofa?"

"Sounds perfect," you laughed.

JOHN DOE!

You awoke to the shrill beeping of your alarm, hitting snooze and rolling over with a groan. Just another day, or so you thought. Downstairs, John was already wide awake, a manic glint in his yellow eyes. Today was special - it was your birthday! And John wouldn't let you forget it, oh no. He had big plans to make this the best birthday ever, because the subject of birthdays has always seemed curious to him. So he probably spent a lot of time looking at them and analyzing them on TV.

This was going to be the perfect day! He giggled to himself as he troed to hung streamers and balloons all around the house. Into the kitchen next, whipping up a towering (burned) cake. He just loved, loved, loved crafts!

But something was missing…presents! John had searched far and wide for the perfect gifts, each one specially selected to make you smile. Something colorful and full of confetti, meaty and squishy covers most of the furniture in your house and seems to be something sticky. Anyone else would be grossed out, but you were used to it, and somehow it seemed… cute. Even Doe took it upon himself to put a bow on the slimy stuff.

Glancing at the clock, John realized you would be waking up soon. As he heard your footsteps coming down the stairs, he darkened the room and hid behind the sofa, barely able to contain his excitement.

"SURPRISE!" he shouted, leaping out with a flourish as you stepped into the living room. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! I planned a whole party just for you!" You were stunned, having co

mpletely forgotten it was even your birthday. Taking in the decorations, the gross slime in your houses that John had prepared, you were overwhelmed by the effort. "I made this cake myself, 3 whole layers of chocolatey goodness, your favorite!" John exclaimed, wheeling out the mammoth confection. His grin stretched impossibly wide as he waved his arms with flourish like a gameshow host revealing a prize. Before you could even process this surprise, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along. He bounced on his toes and spoke a mile a minute, barely pausing for breath in his exhilaration.

"I just love, love, LOVE birthdays! The presents, the games, the candy, the fun! But most of all I love YOU!" He threw his wiry arms around you in an enthusiastic hug before darting off again.

Despite the shock of it all, you couldn't help but smile at his childlike joy and excitement to celebrate your birthday. No one had ever gone to such lengths for you before. As the day went on, John made sure you were having the time of your life. He even popped out of the massive cake, sending frosting flying everywhere, but laughing all the while.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had!" he declared, licking buttercream off his fingers. You had to admit, it was pretty unforgettable. No one else would or could have done all this for you. Finally, the sugar crash was setting in. As the sun set outside, you and John snuggled up on the couch together, you nestled against his chest. He smiled down at you, his expression softening.

"Did you have a fun day?" he asked, twirling a lock of your hair idly around his slender finger. You nodded, still basking in the glow of the day's events. No matter what misadventures tomorrow might bring, you would always remember the time and love John put into this special day, just for you.

ALAN ORION!

You woke up like any other day, oblivious that this particular day marked another year of your life. As you went through your morning routine, there was no indication that today was special. No one called to wish you a happy birthday, no gifts waiting for you when you went downstairs. For you, it seemed like just another ordinary day.

But someone did remember. Hidden among the trees of the forest you often visited, Alan had been preparing. For weeks he had been planning something special, eager to celebrate your birthday in his own unique way.

The night before, under the cover of darkness, he had snuck into your home while you slept. Confirming the date in your calendar, he grinned in anticipation. You had no idea what he had in store for you. After watching you for a bit, he slipped back out and returned to the forest.

Today, Alan was up before the sun, too excited to sleep. He spent the early hours tidying up his little clearing in the woods, decorating it with wildflowers and vines. He prepared all your favorite foods, packing a basket with sweet treats to share. His gifts for you were handmade trinkets wrapped in simple brown paper and tied off with twine.

Alan could hardly wait for you to arrive. He paced around, checking and rechecking everything. He wanted it to be perfect for you. Finally deciding he was ready, he grabbed his axe and headed out to the woods to gather more firewood. He hoped to lead you back just at the right moment.

As Alan chopped wood, you began your walk through the forest trail. Breathing in the fresh air, you slowly wandered along, enjoying the peace of nature. You hadn't gotten far when Alan appeared, as if out of nowhere, right on the path in front of you.

"Well, hey there, doe-eyes! Fancy running into you!" He greeted you cheerfully. Taking your hand, he guided you off the trail towards his secluded clearing.

You gave him a puzzled look, uncertain why he was acting so excited today. But you followed along, trusting him completely.

Reaching the clearing, Alan led you into the little area. "I have a surprise for you…"

Stepping forward, you gasped in awe. The cozy space was filled with wildflowers, sweet aromas, and decorations just for you. In the center sat a small cake with lit candles. You turned to Alan in shock.

"Happy birthday!" He shouted, pulling you into a warm embrace. "I wanted to celebrate you today. Make this day special. Do you like it?"

You were utterly surprised, touched by the thoughtfulness of it all. You had completely forgotten your own birthday, but Alan had remembered. He knew this date was important to you and wanted to make you feel loved.

Taking your hand, he led you around the clearing, showing you all he had prepared. The food, the handmade gifts, every detail was just for you. No one had ever done anything so thoughtful.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself slow dancing with Alan in the candlelight. His arms wrapped protectively around you as he hummed a sweet melody. This woodland birthday party turned out to be the most memorable one yet thanks to your dear Alan.

PETER DUNBAR!

Today is your birthday, though it's far from your mind when your alarm jolts you awake this morning. You silenced it and started your usual morning routine - shower, breakfast, quick scroll through your phone. The date doesn't even register.

Meanwhile, Peter has been giddy with excitement for weeks leading up to this day. He knows everything about you, including your birthday, and wants to make it extraordinarily special.

You're just about to head out the door for work when you hear the doorbell ring. You open it to find a delivery man with a massive bouquet of roses in every color - red, pink, yellow, white. "Special delivery for your birthday!" he announces cheerfully. Birthday? Oh right, it's your birthday! You had completely forgotten. What a wonderful surprise, you think, as you take the flowers and find the card from Peter.

After stopping to put the roses in water, you rush off to work, not wanting to be late. When you arrive at your desk, you find a perfectly wrapped gift waiting for you. Opening it up reveals a set of expensive bath oils and lotions in your favorite scents - peach, mango, coconut. "A special treat for your special day! Enjoy! Love, Peter" the note attached says. These will be so lovely to use after a long day, you think, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Leaving work that evening, exhausted after a long day, you find one last surprise waiting for you. When you enter your apartment, the lights are off, which is odd. Suddenly, they flip on, and Peter jumps out from hiding shouting "Surprise!" The living room is decorated with balloons and streamers. Your dining table is spread with your favorite foods. In the center is an enormous bouquet of vibrant flowers.

Peter runs up and embraces you. "Happy birthday, darling! I wanted to make this day so special for you." You beam, tears pricking your eyes. You can't believe he put all of this together for you.

"I totally forgot it was even my birthday!" you say with a laugh. "This is incredible, Peter. Thank you so much for everything - the flowers, gifts... It's too much. I'm overwhelmed by your generosity and thoughtfulness."

Peter is thrilled to see you so delighted. "You deserve to feel loved and celebrated on your birthday. I'd do anything to see your beautiful smile," he says, gazing at you adoringly.

You give him a tender kiss, touched by how well he knows you and the immense effort he put into orchestrating thoughtful surprises to brighten your day. While Peter may go overboard with his intensity sometimes, today it comes from a place of pure love and devotion.

Despite your chaotic schedule, Peter made sure your birthday did not go uncelebrated. Thanks to him, you feel so special and cared for on this day. You blow out the candles on your cake together, share a delicious meal, and end the night dancing in the living room - the perfect birthday thanks to Peter's selfless attention to detail and desire to see you smile.

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₙₐᵢₗ ₚₒₗᵢₛₕ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ ᴛᴇ ꜱᴜʟɪ ᴛꜱʏᴇʏᴋ'ɪᴛᴀɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: None ♡

A/N: This was inspired by this ask, which I had to write into a fic. Sorry it took a while.

Masterlist

That day, you and Neteyam were in your private bonk back at the old RDA Headquarters. You were both just talking about things that had happened all week. Not only that, but as you talked, you were trying to clean your messy desk. But you'd get side tracked by the conversation that you'd that you were cleaning. While you moved some stuff in there proper places and listening to Neteyam's rant about how Lo'ak nearly got them killed when he tried to pet a thanator's pup. As you moved stuff around, you couldn't help but notice a small box, it had a bit of dust in it.

You reached over and grabbed it, you leaned the dust off the lid, seen the many stickers that you had put on the box. Some were old that they began to fade and some were still in tacked. After looking at the stickers, you opened the lid. You then saw the many nail polishes that your mom had given a while ago. She was cleaning out some stuff and she decided to give you somethings that she didn't really use. So she gave them to you. "Yawne?" You heard Neteyam call out to you, seen that you were focused on something else. "Oh, sorry, I just found these. I forgot I had them." You responded, showing him the box filled with different color nail polishes.

He got closer, to see the small bottles. "What's that stuff?" He asked. "It's what we call nail polish, we use it to make our nails look pretty." You responded, while Neteyam looked more in the box. "Can I look at them?" he asked, while you handed him the box. It was very small compared to his hands. You moved them around a bit, seen the many colors in the box. As he kept looking in the box, he pulled out a small nail polish bottle. He brought it close to his face, to get a better view of it. "This one is the color of your eyes." He commented. "It is?" You asked. "Yeah, I think so. Look." He said, handing you the nail polish. He as not wrong, it did look like the color of your eyes. "Cool. Let me see if I can find one the color of your eyes." You told him.

Once you had the box, you began to dig in the box. Trying to find a nail polish that matched his eyes. You then found a yellow nail polish, it matched perfectly with his eyes, except this one had a bit of shine. Not only that, but you also found a green one. That also matched perfectly. "These match your eyes." You said, while showing him the two nail polishes in my hand. He looked at them. "They do." He said, while looking at the little glass bottle filled with the thick liquid which matched his eyes.

Then he got an idea. "I know what we can do." He said, making you look at him, giving him your full attention. "How about, we paint each other's nails, but with the color that matches our eyes?" he asked. "Oh! That sounds cool, we should." You said, you saw how Neteyam's eyes lid up by how you seemed to agree with his idea. "Let me go first so that you can see how you can paint mine." You told him, while you began to open the small bottle in your hand.

The whole time you while you painted his nails, you explained to him to try and stay in the nail. It was fine if he messed up a bit, since he's never really painted nails. Painting his nails was easy, since he's hand were as big as your head, if not bigger. His nails looked pretty, you honestly liked how the colors went with his skin tone. When it came to your nails, Neteyam slightly struggled because of how small the brush was, you offered your help to him. But he wanted to do it himself, after struggling a bit, he finally finished painting your nails. He did good. You liked how the yellow and green really went well and how it really did match his eyes. You couldn't help but bring your hand up near Neteyam's eyes.

"What are you doing?" He asked, curious on why you brought your hand near his face. "I just wanted to see how perfectly they match." You said, while looking at him in the eyes then your nails. He thought for a moment, then he also brought his hand up next to your face to see how his nails and eyes looked. He seemed to love the idea of having the color of your nails on his nails in some way. "We should do this more often." Neteyam said, breaking the small bit of silence. "We should, maybe next time we can do each other's favorite color?" You suggested. "Yeah, I like that." He answered, with a small smile.

"What's your favorite color by the way?" You asked him, genuinely curious. Neteyam then thought for a moment, as if he was trying to remember his favorite color. "I never really thought of it, but. I'd say, forest colors?" He said, almost confused and unsure. "Oh, so like shades of greens and browns?" you asked. "Yeah, with a bit of smoky purple and a dark dark and light turquoise." He added. "Oh, I can see that." You said, while analyzing his attire, seen how he wore the colors he claimed to like. "You want to know what my favorite color is?" You asked him, while he nodded in response. "Blue." You simply said, while looking at him with a tiny grin on your lips. It took him a moment to realize your response, when he finally got it after a minute. His face turned a bright purple and he began to giggle. "I also like purple." You added, making him cover his cover his mouth with his hand as he continued to giggle more.

[msmc-796-official]

I... have a confession to make, of sorts. There won't ever be a good time to admit this, unfortunately, so it's best I get this off my chest now, and ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

It has not been easy speaking with all of the flashclones who have made themselves known in the wake of Union's latest raids; both for myself, and the squadron at large. I must commend my squadmates for handling themselves with the utmost professionalism - while my own correspondences with these newest members of the Omninet have been what I would consider adequately polite, I've been biting my tongue the entire time, and I fear that my personal discomfort with the issue is starting to slip through the cracks.

To this end, I wish to share my thoughts publicly, that I might better express my own emotions towards this complicated, frustrating, and highly nuanced issue. I only ask that you hear me out in full before you render judgement, and pronounce your sentence carefully.

First: an observation.

MSMC policy requires that all pilots dictate an end-of-life plan at the time of their recruitment, that their final wishes may be carried out by the company in the event of their death under MSMC's employ. The options provided for this are effectively unlimited, allowing the pilot a great deal of choice and freedom in planning their postmortem arrangements. These plans may also be altered in the future should circumstances change, provided the pilot is of sound body and mind.

Under MSMC policy, in compliance with the policies set forth by Union, one of the available postmortem options is flashcloning.

In my fifteen-odd years serving under MSMC, I have only heard of three pilots who have willingly chosen to be flashcloned after death (thus prolonging not only their life, but their term of service under MSMC as well). Of these, I have only personally met one, affiliated with MSMC-808 "5Q8R3 L00P3RZ" - I believe their current iteration goes by callsign Lemniscate. While I do not know how many times they have been cloned during their term of service, their current iteration seems happy enough, and their squadmates reassure me that they've maintained a consistent identity (plus or minus the odd quirk, as is typical of flashclones) throughout their life (lives?).

Second: a digression.

I purchased my Dusk Wing, And The Voice of Apollo Spoke From On High (Apollo for short), from an SSC showroom on a planet whose name I no longer recall. The curated atmosphere called to mind the high marble pillars and lush green-blue waters of some distant Cradle mythology where gods roamed the earth and mortals strove to emulate them, punished and rewarded for their folly in equal measure with gifts and curses beyond name. Each frame was posed as the statues of old on Cradle, too-human limbs arrayed in too-human poses, each a machine of war turned living art piece.

Apollo, true to its future name, was arrayed in flight; hover-jets draped with sunlight-yellow gossamer, veil rifle aimed in its middle tier of manipulators with the same care and precision as an archer would take with their bow. To see it lowered to the floor after its purchase was to see Icarus fall; to climb inside its cockpit for the first time, to don wax-and-feather wings of my own and fly.

The old tales caution that divinity has a cost, and I too paid the price. A vial of blood, drawn with silver needle and spirited away into an unseen cooler before my pen ever touched paper. Apollo was mine, but SSC had received a far greater gift in its place: a sample of my DNA, unwillingly donated as the price for my divine armament.

Even now, this price weighs heavy on my head like the sword which hung above Damocles, poised to drop without a moment's notice with each new Union raid on yet another forgotten cloning facility. Who can say on what distant planet the children I did not birth sleep in stasis - children with my eyes, my hair, my nose, my smile; sons and daughters who will never be called as such because, to their creators, they are slaves, weapons, property - anything but human.

Third: an explanation.

I believe that flashcloning, in its current state as of 5016u, as approved by Union's Third Committee (and exploited by the likes of SSC, HA, and several countless others across the stars) is an inherently unethical practice; both for those who donate their DNA (willingly or otherwise), as well as for those persons produced by it.

To see countless lives created, manipulated, slaughtered, and recycled in the name of so-called "progress"; to see inherently human beings stripped of every vestige of humanity but the body in which they reside and then forcibly brainwashed and molded into soldiers, medics, mechanics, weapons, machines, slaves, property - it is an abominable and inhumane practice that should have died a slow and painful death in the darkness from whence it was birthed.

This being said: I cannot stand idly by as the products of this inhumane practice continue to suffer. No matter whether it is beneath the apathetic gaze of Union, the dehumanizing bootheel of HA, or the eugenicist scalpel of SSC, I will not allow my fellow persons to endure another day of abuse at the hands of those who would abandon their own creations as little more than imperfect failures for daring to remind their creators of their sentience.

Alone, I can do nothing. I too am but a cog in this great uncaring machine humanity has built, one which prospers on suffering and bloodshed and the work of hands which have forgotten the body to which they are attached. Even if I were to risk life and limb and reputation to make my position known, it is a battle which lies dead in the water - it is impossible to halt the wheels of progress without irreparably damaging the future which relies on their turning.

And so I fight. I fight for those who have forgotten their humanity, both willingly and unwillingly, that they might find something of their own - identity, purpose, desires, connection, life - that reminds them of what they were and are and always have been: human.

-- Angel

[awkward-walking-potato]

Snuggling w deadpool? Platonic or romantic?

Red-Eye Rest

The fight had been long, messy, and more complicated than it should have been. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember what exactly set it all off. Probably Deadpool annoying the wrong person—again. But now, hours later, you were bruised, battered, and bone-tired. As you limped alongside Wade Wilson to the waiting taxi, the only thing on your mind was finding somewhere soft and horizontal to collapse.

You barely registered the driver, a guy named Dopinder who seemed unreasonably cheerful given the hour. "Where to, my friends?" he asked.

"Just drive, Dopinder," Wade said, waving a gloved hand. "We need some R&R."

You sighed in relief as you sank into the worn seats of the cab, letting your head fall back. The leather was old, cracked, and not even close to being comfortable, but at that moment, it might as well have been a cloud. Wade plopped down beside you, his usual chatter unusually subdued. Even he must have been worn out from the chaos.

"You're too quiet," you muttered, eyes closed.

"Well, after all the butt-kicking we just did, even I have my limits," Wade replied, stretching out. "But don’t worry, I’ll be back to my charming, loquacious self in no time."

"Mhm," you mumbled, already feeling sleep tugging at your eyelids. The motion of the taxi rolling over potholes was almost lulling, despite the city's usual cacophony just outside.

A few minutes passed, and you were right on the edge of consciousness when you felt something warm and solid nudge against you. You peeked out of one eye to see Wade leaning back, his arm casually draped over your shoulder, pulling you close.

"Wade…" you started, but your voice lacked the energy for any real protest.

"Shh, shh, just let it happen," he whispered, grinning under his mask. "I’m too tired for shenanigans, and you look like you could use a little cuddle time. Besides, no one's going to believe this anyway."

You wanted to argue, but damn it, the warmth radiating from his body was just too inviting. You let out a resigned sigh and shifted slightly, resting your head on his shoulder. The scent of leather, gunpowder, and something uniquely Deadpool filled your senses, oddly comforting.

For a moment, there was just the sound of your breathing in sync with the hum of the taxi. Wade’s grip tightened a bit, and you allowed yourself to melt into the embrace. It was surreal, sharing such a quiet, almost tender moment with someone like him. But then again, Deadpool was always full of surprises.

"Don’t go falling in love with me, though," Wade murmured. You could hear the grin in his voice. "I’m bad news."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," you muttered back, too tired to even roll your eyes.

“Good, ‘cause I’m high-maintenance. You’d need a whole team just to keep up with me.”

You let out a soft chuckle, closing your eyes once more. The gentle rise and fall of Wade’s breathing was strangely calming, and you felt yourself drifting off. As the city lights flickered past the windows, blurring into streaks of yellow and white, you thought maybe, just maybe, you could get used to moments like this.

In the dim light of the cab, with the world outside buzzing on, you allowed yourself to rest, leaning into the warmth beside you. For now, this was enough—a rare, quiet moment with Deadpool, the Merc with a Mouth, in the back of a beat-up taxi.

As sleep finally took over, you could have sworn you heard Wade softly humming some off-key tune, like a lullaby from a deranged superhero. And for once, everything was right in your world.

[marlynnofmany]

Monkey Chase

I stepped off the loading ramp and got a good view of the reason why we’d landed in the wrong part of the spaceport. A giant cargo hauler lay on its side, broken and bent — had a ship crashed into it, or had the engine exploded? I couldn’t tell from here — and large slabs of spaceship insulation gel sprawled everywhere. The hauler’s cargo, clearly. As I watched, three people with a hovercart tried to shove one aside to no effect, and another slab as big as a cross-section from my old apartment on Earth slowly peeled off from inside the remains of the hauler. It hit the ground with the squishiest thud I’d ever heard - the thing was the color of smoke, but dense enough to make the ground vibrate from here.

I whistled, then regretted it when the tentacle alien on the ramp beside me scrunched up at the sound. “Sorry,” I told Mur.

“Ow,” he said, uncurling his blue-black tentacles. “Was that a human swear? It’s sharp.”

“More of a ‘wow-look-at-that’ kind of noise,” I said. “But swearing would sure be appropriate. What a mess.”

“You said it. Glad it’s not our problem.”

Captain Sunlight came down the ramp to join us, regal as ever in the bright yellow scales that had given her the name. “Our client isn’t answering,” she said. “I’ve put in a request at the local medcenter to see if they’ve been injured in this crisis, but haven’t heard back yet. Anyone interested is welcome to join me in walking over to where their ship was meant to be parked.”

Three other crewmates followed her out of the ship: Blip and Blop in their flowiest silks that both matched their fin colors and also showed off their biceps, and Zhee with his purple exoskeleton as shiny as always. They all made quiet noises of dismay at the state of the spaceport.

(Well, Blip and Blop seemed dismayed. Zhee was looking down his nonexistent nose at whoever had been careless enough to cause such a mess.)

Mur waved a tentacle. “Lead the way,” he said to the captain. “Here’s hoping the ship isn’t buried under all that.”

“Yeah, it looks heavy,” I said as we moved out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a little ship could be crushed under that, especially if it also took damage from whatever kaboom happened in the first place.”

As we got closer, I made several observations in a range of importance. A medical shuttle was zipping off toward the city center while another appeared to be waiting around just in case; the medics were standing there chatting instead of tending to anyone. The gel slabs couldn’t be pushed, though they could be lifted with a big enough gravity platform. There was only one of those here. Cleanup was going to take a while. The slabs covered a large area of ground as well as a couple ship-sized lumps, turning the spaceport into a sea of smoky gray translucent rubber.

A small creature bounced around on it. People were shouting about that.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked.

Captain Sunlight sighed deeply and sped up. “I really hope that’s not our cargo.”

“Our cargo’s an animal?”

“Yes, among other things. I thought I told you, but I guess not; it was a last-minute addition to our load. Someone’s exotic pet.” She looked up at me with concern on her lizardy face. “How are your animal-catching skills?”

“Depends on the animal,” I said, squinting at the fast-moving thing. I was the critter expert on the ship, but I didn’t want to promise anything. “What species is it?”

“I’ll bring up the description in a moment,” Captain Sunlight said. “I think I see our client over there.”

She was right. The slender Frillian with a leash and an exasperated expression did turn out to be the person we’d come to meet, and the various spaceport officials on the scene had no any easy answers about how to catch his pet.

“Normally he comes running for food!” the client exclaimed. “But he’s got plenty to pick from here!” He pointed accusingly at the spill of fruit from a truck smashed open by a slab of gel.

“Oh, like that’s my fault?” said a Heatseeker who was busy gathering fruit. “Half my stock is ruined! Go catch your little menace and stop complaining.”

This led to a rant about how impossible the menace in question was to catch when he didn’t want to be — giving him a bath had to be done by trickery — and he was never going to come down from this playground full of food, and oh the man should have just paid for a transit that allowed him to bring pets.

Zhee muttered agreement at that last, but I don’t think the guy heard him. Spaceport officials offered calming words and a reminder that nets had been sent for.

Captain Sunlight asked one of them, “Is there an animal-handling service anywhere nearby?”

“Nowhere close,” was the answer.

She looked back up at me. “Any bright ideas? Here, I’ll show you the description.”

While she unfolded a screen and brought up the information from this particular courier gig, I watched the jumpy creature carefully. He was close enough for a good look now, since he’d come back to snatch another alien citrus off the ground, making the owner yell after him.

My first thought was “monkey,” followed by “frog.” The animal was long-limbed and green, though with velvety fur instead of an amphibian’s shine, and had a tail that could hold fruit just as well as his hands could. Pointy nose, round ears, and the biggest eyes of anyone here except for Zhee. He could probably see a person sneaking up from behind. He was fast. And he was clearly having a great time jumping from one bouncy surface to another, making chattering noises and spitting citrus peel everywhere.

“It’s called a treeleaper,” Captain Sunlight told me. “Warmblooded, diurnal, omnivorous, and ‘a bit of a troublemaker.’”

Mur snorted. “Sounds like your species,” he told me.

“Just with a tail,” Zhee added.

“I wanted a tail as a kid,” I said absently, thinking hard. I’d just caught sight of a shipful of humans disembarking nearby, on the other side of the biggest pile of gel. They looked like they were in pretty good shape. One was already walking on the gel and laughing about the bounce.

I had an idea. “Excuse me, Captain. I think I see reinforcements,” I said, then ran off toward my unsuspecting kinfolk. When I got close, I took great pleasure in yelling, “Hey humans! Who wants to help me chase a monkey across a trampoline??”

They were all smiles and questions, then when I led the way to where they could see the monkey-frog jumping around with stolen fruit, they volunteered immediately.

“I’ll get the small cargo net!”

“Do you think the big gravity wands will slow it down?”

“Bet you a cleaning shift that I can grab it in a towel.”

“You’re on!”

I told Captain Sunlight that I had successfully recruited some animal-catchers, and she didn’t bat an eye, just suggesting that our crew gather similar tools from our own ship. Zhee and the twins rushed off while Mur stayed to yell suggestions.

The other humans were already venturing into the bounce zone. I hurried to follow, grabbing a fist-sized lime thing from the ground as I did. We made a wide circle before closing in.

The treeleaper saw us coming, of course. Threw a half-eaten fruit at one person and made a rude noise at another, then sprang up to ricochet between surfaces like an unholy pinball.

Thus began a merry chase.

It brought back memories of bouncy houses and birthday parties at the trampoline gym. The gel was tough enough to take an impact without doing more than denting briefly and launching a person hooting into the air, to rebound off another surface and hopefully not smack into anyone else in midair. There were a couple close calls. But that just made everything funnier somehow.

I jumped off one gel wall with and hit another with my shoulder, making the monkey-frog turn a 180 back towards a pair of guys with gravity wands. He tried to spring away to the side, but I threw my lime to bounce off a surface nearby, spooking him enough to change direction yet again. Somebody slid down a gel slab like a rubbery playground slide, yelping as that turned into a wild tumble. The animal didn’t know what to make of all the flailing and laughter. His hesitation was enough for the gravity wands to lift him partway off the gel, then when he stuck a leg out far enough to jump free, he was immediately bagged by a grinning lady with a cargo net.

Everybody cheered.

The treeleaper growled and tried to scramble free, but no luck. Somebody else caught up and helped tie the net off with a scarf. Everyone settled down to minimal bouncing, and many hands worked together to carry the bundle of ropes and disgruntled animal back to solid ground.

“You got him! Is he okay? He didn’t sprain anything in that net, did he? I hope he didn’t eat too much fruit. He’ll do that if given the chance, you know.” The owner was grateful and worried and relieved and talkative.

Eggskin had arrived from our ship with a medical scanner, and thankfully they could put everyone’s mind at ease about the state of our animal cargo. The treeleaper was fine. It had a stomach full of fruit and a bloodstream full of adrenaline, but all it needed was a nice nap in its carrying cage.

I considered asking why it hadn’t been in the carrier before, when the rented shuttle got its windows smashed, but I didn’t.

A small hand patted my back, as far up as it could reach. “Earning your keep once again,” said Captain Sunlight.

I laughed. “That was my pleasure.”

Another human lingering nearby asked, “Is there anything else that needs catching? That was great.”

“Yeah, you should sell tickets to this!” agreed another.

A Frillian in a port uniform said, “No, but thank you.” She paused, then added, “Hm. I wonder if that’s worth suggesting to the owner of all this insulation. It’s useless for its intended purpose now that it’s breached the sanitation shielding.”

I smiled. “It still makes an excellent trampoline even with footprints all over it. Lay those out in an empty field and charge people entrance, and they could make back a decent amount of money. You get plenty humans through this port, right?”

The woman who’d caught the treeleaper said, “We’re here early for a family reunion before the big festival, then there are three or four sporting events in a row. Let us know if that does happen, because we can get you a lot of humans interested in jumping on this stuff.”

I had to leave with the animal cargo back to our courier ship, so I didn’t hear how the rest of the conversation went, but I saw the official bring the representative of the hauling group over to meet the humans. He looked very interested in what the spokesperson had to say.

I grinned at the scene as I walked away: the intense conversation in front of the vast playground of bouncy surfaces. I wondered if we’d get a chance to come back for a visit when they got it set up properly.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!