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subcultureblues · 3 days ago

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Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 1

Steve and Eddie have been hooking up and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

———

“For the record, I still think this is dumb.” Lucas said over the wind.

“Yeah, well, you’re dumb.” Mike said, sharp witted as always.

“Got you there.” Will grinned, sidling up beside him on his bike. Mike shot him a look, vaguely betrayed. Will shrugged innocently and kept peddling.

“Alright, alright, let the court record reflect you’re both morons.” Dustin sighed, peddling between the bickerer’s bikes and cutting ahead.

All four boys skirted to a stop outside the trailer park. Dustin wiped at his forehead under his cap, the humidity creeping back up on them as soon as the air stopped it’s rushing by.

“Dude, if Eddie wasn’t picking up the phone, well, there’s probably a reason for that.” Lucas said, in that tone of his. The demeaning one.

Dustin just shook his head. Name one good reason to ignore your party? One good reason. Dustin certainly couldn’t!

He started walking his bike up through the dusty lot, leaving the rest with little choice but to march ever onward.

“Maybe he’s still sleeping.” Will said, lingering a bit behind the pack.

“At 1 in the afternoon?” Lucas rolled his eyes.

“What? He does, like,” Mike’s voice dropped to a paranoid whisper. “weed, right? Jonathan’s always sleeping in?” Mike looked behind them at Will, who shrugged.

“Eddie,” Dustin said his name rather uncharitably but he’s at his limit here, really, he is “has been dodgy weeks now. Doesn’t answer the phone, he’s never free on the weekend, never hangs out after Hellfire anymore - I’m telling you guys, somethings up.”

“Or maybe - he’s finally graduated after the third try and he’s tired of hanging around high schoolers all the time.” Lucas rolled his eyes.

Dustin shook his head at Lucas, because that can’t be it. Eddie loves them. Well, he loves Dustin and likes the rest of Hellfire’s fresh meat well enough. They bonded, alright? - after everything they went through in the Upside Down. Hell, they’re practically brothers. And it’s not just Dustin who thinks that, Eddie had said it first. Well, he called him ‘the little brother I never wanted’ but had said so sarcastically. Obviously, he’d meant the opposite.

Hard to feel wanted right now though, considering as of circa maybe a month ago, Eddie’s been MIA. He still shows up to Hellfire, obviously. But that was about it.

After stopping the clock on the apocalypse and banding together to clear Eddie’s good name, it kind of become a thing - Eddie taking them out to get slushies after a game. Calling up Eddie to tell him, not ask, but tell him they were all going to the arcade. He’d even gone to Eddie’s trailer a few times so he could help Dustin homebrew his subclass!

Steve had started tagging along too, usually. Him and Eddie even getting started to get less awkward around each other after a while. Not best friends or anything, Not like Dustin was hoping. But friendly. It had been totally awesome! And totally annoying that he had mysteriously gone to ground.

It’s possible Dustin’s being, well he doesn’t want to say needy...

It’s just, Steve started picking up extra shifts at work and spending a whole lot of time with Robin. Not that Dustin didn’t support their relationship. Steve’s been single so long, it hadn’t started verging on pathetic exactly, but it was a near thing.

It’s just hard for a guy not to feel neglected.

The four boys had almost reached the trailer when they heard it. At first Dustin dismissed it, surely the trailer next doors’ doing. But no, that music definitely coming from Eddie’s.

That in and of itself, wouldn’t be unusual. Eddie is likely the loudest human being on the planet. No, the weird part is it’s not thrashy, garbage can lid, Eddie-music but goddamn…

“Is that - “ Mike said, trailing off from sheer befuddlement.

“Culture Club.” Lucas could barely hide the cackle in his voice.

“What in the -“ Dustin muttered, throwing his bike in the grass and wandering up to the door like it was a gate to another dimension. For all he knows, it might just be.

“Eddie?” He knocked on the door. Nothing. He tried again. Obviously, someone’s home.

Dustin’s only met the man briefly but he didn’t take Munson Sr for being the bubblegum pop type.

Besides, Mr. Munson certainly wouldn’t be playing anything this loud unless those late nights at the plant had him going deaf. Dustin peeked through the window into the living room. More nothing.

“Oh man.” Lucas shoved him to press his face against the glass too. There was a slow smile creeping across his face, like he was suddenly overjoyed they had come to the trailer park after all. Lucas wasn’t gonna let their DM live this one down, not any time soon. “I thought he was supposed to be cool.”

“He is cool.” Mike said.

Dustin just sighed, threw his hands up, and started rounding the corner of the RV. Eddie’s van was here, ergo Eddie. Dustin was sure he’d be lurking around here somewhere. The rest of the boys followed, their previous hesitation now nowhere to be seen.

“Come on.” He gestured towards the window. They all leaned in and Dustin was already furiously rapping on the window. “Ed - “

Dustin’s eyes went wide. And maybe his face a bit pink.

Eddie was here alright.

He was laying in bed. Very much not alone. There were two of them, lying in bed together. They were under the covers but Eddie was sprawled out on top of someone, a thick curtain of hair hanging over both faces. Clearly, ew, kissing, based on, and Dustin might be scarred for life here, a hand gripping Eddie’s hair at the base of his neck.

As for the tunes, the obvious culprit was in the corner of the room. Eddie’s little cassette stereo.

“Eddie?” Dustin blanched before he could stop himself. And it was of course, in that exact moment Culture Club decided to betray them and the tape cut out.

Will went to shush him, grabbing his shoulder to drag him away but oh no, Eddie definitely heard something. The guy squawked and jolted up in bed, swooping the covers up to hide them both in their immodesty. Eddie’s eyes peaked over his elbow like a vampire leering over his cloak. He gaped at the window, clearly rather horrified.

The boys all threw themselves out of the frame, Dustin pressing up against the back of the trailer.

“What the fuck - “ he heard Eddie say. “What the fuck.” He sounded almost angry but closer to panicked. There was a vague whispering match, but whispering was never really Eddie’s strong suit, so they heard him just fine.

“Relax.” Eddie said, though he did not himself sound relaxed. “No, it’s fine. We’re cool. You need to - I need you cool right now.”

They heard something like a grown man crashing off the bed and gracelessly hit the floor.

“I know, I know, I know. I know! Christ, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t - I’ll deal with it. Just - “

The boys were already turning tail and scurrying back to their bikes. Gone entirely red in the face.

“I told you this was a bad idea.” Mike said, the hypocrite bastard.

“No you did not!” Dustin huffed.

The front door swung open with a bang and Eddie came spilling out towards them as he, oh gross, scrambled to get into his jeans. He was still shirtless and sweaty, hair fluffed up like an angry cat. Looking rather frantic.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He actually looked properly pissed, hands shaking with it as he did up his fly.

“We didn’t see anything.” Lucas put his hands up, but the guilty way he refused to meet Eddie’s eyes kind of gave up the game.

“Nothing!” Will squeaked, beet red and squeezing his eyes closed tight. Just in case they hadn’t made themselves look incriminating enough.

“God, of all the shit fucking timing -“ Eddie’s fist clenched up in front of him and he let out a frustrated noise, eyes darting around the trailer park. “Look I can explain. If you just, ergh, give me a minute to think of something.”

“No need! We didn’t see anything, promise.” Mike assured him again, his voice nearly steady. Good for him.

“Right so. I guess, did I mention I’ve take up recently taken up semi pro Grecian wrestling - “

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Dustin couldn’t help interrupting him. Lucas smacked him. He gave Lucas a face, which was returned, so Dustin did it again even harder. But fuck Lucas cause it may have been the right thing to say. Eddie stopped fluttering, looked right at him. Squinted, scanning his face.

“You know you can just tell us. If you did. You could have just told us in the first place.” Dustin didn’t get why Eddie wouldn’t. Did Eddie think this kind of thing was too ‘grown up’ for them. They were high school freshman for Christ sake! The only one of their little crew who didn’t have a girlfriend was Will. And I guess Steve.

Allegedly.

Of course, Dustin didn’t believe that for a second.

“I - what?” Eddie perked up.

“If you had a girlfriend. Do you? Is that - “

Eddie huffed out a hysterical laugh. It was weird. But then, Eddie wasn’t exactly the poster child for Normal. Dustin crossed his arms.

“Sure. Yeah.” He took a big breath as he looked behind him back into the trailer. “I have a... my girlfriend.”

“Sorry. For coming over.” Will said, timid like a mouse.

“It was Dustin’s idea.” He took Mike for many things but never a rat. Dustin sputtered indignantly, throwing up his hands.

“And we didn’t even see anything, really! So if you’re worried about your girlfriend’s modesty, like - we didn’t see anything, we swear! Right guys?.” Lucas insisted. Mike and Will bobbleheaded in agreement.

“What the hell are you squirts doing here, anyways?” Eddie said, scrubbing roughly at his forehead.

“I needed to get my binder.” Dustin said flatly. And maybe to remind Eddie that hey, he’s still here too. Like, right here.

“Your fucking - “ Eddie said in disbelief, and then he laughed. “Your binder.”

“You weren’t answering the phone.”

“Yeah well I was busy.” Eddie said, eyes wide and awfully antagonistic.

“Busy getting busy.”

Eddie turned his wild eyes on Lucas

“Thin ice, Sinclair. Thin fucking ice.”

That just made him chuckle again. At least he half tried to hide it behind his hand. But Lucas always was the least cowed by Eddie.

“Is this why you haven’t been hanging around anymore, like all month.”

“Jesus. Henderson, I’m sorry, ok? Hard as it is to believe, I do have a fucking life outside the game.” Yeah, Dustin thought, it was pretty hard to believe. “Look, just give me a second.”

“I’ll be quick - “ Dustin made a move to come inside.

“No.” Eddie firmly hip checked him out of the way.

Eddie slipped back into the trailer. Through the open door Dustin could just barely make out the words.

“False alarm. No - actually. I’m being serious. They think - “

They think what? Think they have a right to be here at Eddie’s trailer. Taking up space in Eddie’s life. Well they do. The party almost died saving the world side by side with Eddie, they had more right to be here than that - Dustin just grumbled. He wouldn’t call her a harlot. But only because Susie’s voice was already in the back of his head, admonishing the thought.

Eddie came back and pushed the binder hard into Dustin’s chest. He was stumbled back a step. “Now scram.” He said, not leaving room for Dustin to get a word in edgewise.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around but I… See you at Hellfire, ok?” Eddie slammed the door in their faces.

“How great could this even chick be?” Dustin frowned. Great enough to edge the party out of Eddie’s life it seems like.

The other boys just shrugged. They all picked up their bikes.

“I mean, why can’t he just like, bring her along when we hang out or something.”

“I told you, maybe he just wants to hang out with someone his own age for once.” Lucas said.

Maybe Eddie’s too cool to bring his new girlfriend around his dorky freshmen friends. Is he embarrassed to introduce them to her or something.

“Come on.” Will said. “We should get back to Mike’s.”

“Yeah. Yeah whatever.” Dustin said.

———

“So our parents said me and Mike and Lucas could go to the arcade for an hour before it gets dark.” Dustin said to Eddie as they walked through the empty school hallway after Hellfire.

“No can do, compadre. Fight the good fight against those Space Invaders in my steed, yeah?” Eddie grinned down at him over the few boxes of mini in his hands.

Dustin huffed.

“What? Too busy hanging out with your girlfriend? Dustin said petulantly. “Just bring her along if your - “

The three most senior PC’s in Hellfire skid to a stop in front of them. Dustin and Eddie nearly walked straight into the wall of them. It was almost comical the way all their heads swiveled around to oogle at him. Jeff only just managed to choke back a chortle.

Dustin was honestly offended on Eddie’s behalf. Sure, dude was a drug dealing, super duper senior nerd/freak/metalhead combo who had been semi-recently accused of ritualistic dismemberment - but certainly someone was into that.

“My -? Oh yeah my, my - that.” Eddie winced, avoiding many, many eyes.

“Oh, and you have a girlfriend now do you?” Gareth huffed a laugh, in clear disbelief. Eddie glared daggers at him.

Dustin really didn’t see why it was that hard to believe. Eddie was like, really cool. It was an indisputable fact. If all of them could see it, why couldn’t some weird, off the wall alt girl see it too.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you. Any one of you.” Pointing rapidly at all three of them, like he was warding off the words waiting right at the tip of their tongues.

“So who’s the lucky lady, Munson?” Jared said, like he had ‘held action, Vicious Mockery’ and simply couldn’t help himself. He was fighting a positively delighted smile. Eddie flushed.

“The DM giveth and the DM taketh away, and you would be very wise to remember that, Ser Elias.” Eddie said loudly, still jabbing his finger about like it made him more authoritative.

“Sorry man, just joking around.” Jeff grinned good naturedly.

“Yeah, I mean, good for you dude.” Gareth said, with a genuine smile. He tapped Eddie on the chest who childishly batted Gareth’s hand away.

“No, don’t do that. I - seriously guys, we’re not - it’s not like that. I’m not ‘dating’ anyone.” Eddie deflated, looking uncomfortable. The unflappable Eddie, looking all too flappable after all. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and huffed. “Just someone I’ve been screwing around with alright.”

Eddie walked past them. Dustin almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost.

He turned to Gareth.

“So you guys don’t have any idea who it is?”

The guys looked around at each other, all of them shrugging.

“Who knows.” Jared shrugged again, this one still no more helpful than the last.

“Unless,” Gareth straight up giggles, “it’s that suburban mom Eddie’s been swooning over since sophomore year.”

“Yeah right.” Jared chuckled, shoving Gareth forward. They all continued walking.

“That… doesn’t seem like his type.” Dustin said, suddenly confused and perturbed and feeling like he doesn’t know Eddie Munson at all.

“You’d be surprised.” Jared grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

They exited the school just in time to see Steve getting out of the car. Usually after Hellfire he didn’t bother. He just wanted to get the kids rounded up and out of the parking lot as quickly as he could ever really manage. Not today though. Eddie walked to Steve’s Beemer, parked in the stall next to his van.

“Munson.” He said with a small smile. He grabbed one of a few boxes of minis out of Eddie’s arms.

“Uh, Harrington.” Eddie gave a hesitant smile, before bowing his head with predictable theatrically.

“Hi, Steve.” Dustin said from behind. Steve gave him a fond nod before looking back up to the DM.

“So, uh, how was the session?” He said kind of awkwardly.

“Bordering on child abuse.” Eddie beamed.

“I got knocked out, twice.” Lucas windged, holding up two fingers.

“Whatever keeps you humble.” Steve shrugged. He turned back to Eddie. “So. Uh. Any plans for this weekend?”

Eddie blinked, then he raised his eyebrows with a haughty grin. “Dunno, had a few things in mind.” He shrugged.

“Cool. That’s cool. I did too. But uh, then my parents came home from their trip early.” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “So, you know, guess there go my plans for the weekend.”

“Huh.” Eddie frowned. “Bummer.”

“Shotgun!” Dustin decided, throwing open the passenger side door.

Mike, Lucas, and Will who also couldn’t care less about their inane small talk, were already piling into Steve’s car. Steve was lingering though, helping Eddie load his stuff into the van. Dustin’s glad they’re making an effort to be friendly acquaintances, especially since he’s pretty sure it’s mostly for his own sake. But come on, it was like, 3 small boxes. They had space invasions to thwart.

And of course, Lucas was still bitching at Dustin about his failure to come through with a healing spell.

“I’m a bard, what did you want me to do?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“You have healing word!” Lucas said, to which Dustin roll his eyes. Again.

“Which does like, 2D-nothing!” He looked out the window, wishing Steve would hurry the hell up already. Him and Eddie were still talking? What the hell did those two even have to talk about? Eddie was giving Steve an optimistic grin, but Steve was just shaking his head.

“Cute wounds than!” Lucas groused.

“Well, then you should have thought about that before you went down thirty-five feet away.”

“You could have dashed.” Lucas crossed his arms.

“Ugh. That would have defeated the whole - ugh!” Dustin rolled the window down impatiently. “Steve is it cool if I eat in your car?“ Dustin hollered. He wasn’t actually gonna, he just knew how to get the man’s attention.

“Absolutely not! You know the rules.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a granola bar! Nature Valley.” Dustin shouted back.

“Don’t even think about it Henderson!” Steve said, already rounding the car. Eddie laughed brightly.

“Harrington?” He said.

“I - Yeah. Fine. Fine, alright.” Steve said to which Eddie smiled triumphantly. That better mean they were done with their little pow-wow.

Eddie climbed into his own vehicle. Steve opened the Beemer’s drivers side door but he didn’t get in yet. Instead he stood there running his hand through his hair muttering something to himself.

“See ya, nerds!” Eddie called out, lowering his own window. There was a chorus of goodbyes from the Beemer. “And Harrington -“ He started the van and a blast of guitar poured out. He smiled that Eddie smile. “You worry too much.” He said. And then he swept out of the parking lot with the sound of his obnoxious music on the wind.

“Yeah. Sure.” Steve said sarcastically. He got behind the wheel, Dustin’s threat of snacking seemingly forgotten.

“What was that about?”

Steve just waved him off and started the car.

Dustin eyed Steve skeptically. So what, were Steve and Eddie like, actually friends now or something?

Maybe he knows.

After a few minutes, Dustin finally broke and asked.

“Soooo, do you know who Eddie’s been seeing?”

“What?” Steve says, nearly swerving over the line.

“Jesus!” Lucas swore from the back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve chuckled awkwardly, eyes now, thankfully, firmly fixed on the road.

“Of course he’s not gonna tell Steve.” Mike grumbled.

Dustin stroked an imaginary beard. The fog of mystery only grew thicker and thicker.

“His secret girlfriend.” Mike said, like a little know it all.

Steve just huffed a, sure.

“I bet she’s like, some badass metal chick.” Mike said reverently, looking out the window. “She probably has like face piercings and crazy dyed hair. Or like a shaved head or something cool like that.”

Dustin sighed. She probably was badass. Way cooler than they were. Way too cool to bring around the dork squad.

“Does that sound like anyone you’ve seen around here?” Lucas said skeptically.

“Yeah, I dunno. Gareth said he was into like… suburban moms.” Dustin grimaced.

“Excuse me?” Steve sputtered.

Will made a disgusted noise.

“I know.” Dustin shivered.

“Better watch out for your mom then.” Lucas snickered. Dustin shot him a dirty look.

“Yeah, no way.” Mike shook his head. “He had to be messing with you or something. Eddie probably has like, groupies and stuff.”

“Please. That man has no game.” Lucas said. Steve snorted but played it off like a cough.

“That man runs the game.” Dustin said defensively.

“You know that’s not what that means.” Lucas said.

“The real question is, how long has this little dalliance been going on for?” Dustin pondered.

“Hey, you nosey little twerps. I really don’t think this is like, any of your business.”

“At least a few weeks right?” Lucas spoke up.

“And how do you know that?” Mike said.

“Cause that’s how long it’s been that Eddie’s been using the phrase ‘busy’ to get out of stuff. I mean he’s a jobless, drug peddling hobo, I don’t think I’ve seen Eddie be busy like, ever.” Lucas said, scratching his chin. “Until a few weeks ago that is.”

Dustin grinned widely. “It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”

“It’s invasive is what it is.” Steve grumbled. “Also, he’s not a hobo. He has a house.”

“Well, I guess, technically it’s a trailer.” Will said, rather pedantically.

“Well, it’s got four walls. And he lives inside them. Ergo…”

“He’s also been a lot nicer.” Will said thoughtfully.

“Huh?” Dustin and Steve said, and looked at him in unison.

“The last couple weeks, don’t you think?” Will said, smiling faintly. “He’s been nicer than usual. Or happier. I guess.”

“I guess.” Dustin said.

“You think?” Steve said.

“Okay,” Dustin should have a houndstooth cap and a pipe. “We have our timeline. Now, we need to root out suspects.”

“Alright, this, whatever this is, stops here. You nosey little twerps need to mind your own business.”

“But - “

“I don’t want to hear it. No buts.”

And that was the end of that. For now at least.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369

(Stayed tuned for emotional immaturity! Reply to be added to the tag list!)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Dustin Henderson #mine

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kitab00m101 · 12 hours ago

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Answering based on the main character of my book :)

She doesn't have a bed, she grew up not having one, why start using one now? She just sleeps on whatever patch of floor seems most comfortable.

She is definitely not freind shaped. She has the demeanor of a caution sign, scary/mean looking but just as uneased around you as you feel around her.

She hasn't seen rain yet, but I would think she would enjoy the feeling of it soaking her clothes. Although she wouldn't be able to enjoy the feeling for long, since being cold and wet isn't very healthy for a cold-blooded being.

Shr would look at the rock for a moment before handing it back and asking who died.

I feel like she would play as a paladin just because it's ironic to the role she plays in her own story.

She wouldn't enjoy video games all that much, except maybe mario cart. Not to play, but to watch others play (she likes seeing her friends be competitive)

In the first book, she is seen bullying one of her "cousins" because he is all in all a snot-wad of a person. He pretends to flirt with her, which naturally ticks her off, and he contributes nothing to the family, another thing that ticks her off.

Her first language is English/Latin (she learned them simultaneously as a child). She ends up learning Spanish because her close friends speak it, and she learns a form of sign language used by one of the humanoid species in the books.

She is very talented at cooking meat. Aside from that, she is useless in the kitchen.

She'd go on a tangent about how humans are the reason the war went on for centuries longer than it should have, and how humans are the worst (this is what first book her would say, 2-4 book her is chill with humans)

She is a special subspecies of her kind, that are able to go through monstrous transformations with an excruciatingly painful process. Those like her are only born every 80 years.

She deeply enjoys rock climbing! (Or just climbing in general)

Would she survive a week in the wilderness? Considering she hatched in the middle of the woods and kept herself and her family alive with nothing but a handful of knives for over 20 years, I'd say she'd be just fine.

In book 2 she sees the ocean for the first time. She describes it as a sky of mercury, beautiful but too dangerous to touch.

Because she was living in the woods for most of her life, she was used to being an unhealthy weight. It wasn't until book two that she was let know that being able to see her ribcage for a woman her size was not normal.

Whenever she is facing something that has the ability to get her shaken up, the first person she turns to is her human best freind, the queen of panic attacks and nervous breakdowns. He is always able to help her out.

Most likely, her nightmare would be about her mother's deaths. Or the fires that burnt down the only two homes she's ever known. She hates fire.

Serious answer, one of her loved ones. Joking answer, medium rare ribs.

She doesn't have 3 belongings to keep lmao. She's got her knife and it's sheath, and that's about it.

She's had too many scarring experiences, or moments she regretted to just choose one. Her whole life has been one thing after another, and yet without those experiences, she wouldn't have gotten the blissful ending she has. She can still be traumatized by the awful things that happened to her, and believe she is who she is because of them.

For a long time, she thought that one day some human would just gun her down randomly and that would be the end. As the story goes on, my girl starts to get a serious "immortal" complex.

If she had one day left to live, she would spend it with her found family, the people she went through all this pain for. She would also set aside some time to spend her last moments with her lover, the person she cares most about in the entire universe.

Yet Another OC Ask Game

After hoarding them for months, I decided to make my own. Let’s go from fluffy to angsty, shall we >:)

🛏️ What does your OC’s bed look like? What would they like their bed to look like?

🐁 Capybaras are friend-shaped. What shape does your OC have?

🌧️ What is the favorite thing for you OC to do on a rainy day?

🪨 Someone gifts your OC a shiny rock. What do they do with it?

🐹 Which would be your OCs favorite Pokemon? What kind of trainer would they be?

🎲 If your OC played a pen and paper RPG, what class would they pick? Warrior, mage, thief, ranger, cleric, paladin, druid, necromancer, bard (or other, if that’s not enough).

🎮 If your OC lives or would live in the modern world, would they like video games? What would be their favorite game?

👎 Is there someone your OC can’t stand, despite them being on the same side or sharing basic values?

🌈 Does your OC speak more than one language? If so, how many and which?

🥪 On a scale from ‘burns water’ to ‘5 course menu’ how well can your OC cook?

📚 Your OC has to improvise a 10 minute lecture about a topic of their choosing. What do they chose?

🪄 Does your OC have any special powers? If so, are they normal in this OC’s universe?

🎨 Does your OC have any craft skill, as a hobby or profession? If so which?

🌳 Would your OC survive for a week on their own in the wilderness?

🌊 Has your OC ever seen the ocean? If not, do they want to? What do they think of it?

🥞 Does your OC take proper care of themselves, like getting enough sleep and eating properly?

🤝 Does your OC have someone they want at their side when they are scared? Who?

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

🪤 What is one thing that could be used to lure your OC into a trap?

🎒 If your OC had to pick three things of all their belongings to keep, which would they chose?

🕐 Was there ever a time your OC would have given everything to turn back the clock 5 minutes? What happened?

🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?

🔪 What does your OC think how they’ll die?

📅 If your OC had one day left to live, how would they spend it?

#oc ask game #my ocs #ocs #my wtiting #writblr #writers on tumblr #fantasy author #Scifi author

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daisymbin · 3 days ago

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what are we? - choi seungcheol

warnings: a cocky slightly obnoxious cheol

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: friends to???

wc: 1.1k

check out my masterlist!

“what are we, sweetheart?” seungcheol asked, a smug smirk ghosting over his face. his voice was casual, but the look in his eyes made your breath catch. it was the kind of playful cocky question he always asked, but something about this time felt different.

“what?” your confusion was evident, with an edge of irritation. your cheeks already starting to heat up now that you have his full attention.

seungcheol leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly as he studied you. “you keep staring at me like that,” he said, teasing but with a hint of curiosity. “you into me or something?” he prods further, “you’re really not going to say anything?” his raised right eyebrow now joins his smirk, his voice dripping with playful challenge, like he was daring you to admit something.

your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a nervous laugh, hoping it would break the tension. “i wasn’t staring,” you insisted, averting your gaze quickly. “stop being so obnoxious.”

seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward just enough so his face was closer to yours than it should’ve been; just inches away. “oh, come on. you know i can see right through you,” he teased, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk of his. “what’s with that look, hmm? don’t tell me you’re actually going shy on me now?”

the olympics marathon is currently being held in your head. they're racing, you're racing. YOUR HEART IS RACING. you scramble for a way out of this conversation, but you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened at his closeness. “i’m not shy,” you mumbled, though your voice gave you away. “you just… say stupid things sometimes.”

seungcheol’s smirk only deepened, and the way his eyes glinted with mischief made your chest tighten. “stupid things?” he repeated, as though he was savoring the words. “so me asking what we are is stupid, huh?”

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart in your chest. “yeah,” you said a little too defensively. “obviously we’re nothing but friends. you’re just an annoying, flirty friend. it’s nothing serious.”

his expression faltered, the cocky grin slipping for a second before his cocky mask quickly returned, a subtle shift in his demeanor. “so, you think i’m just messing around?” he asked, his voice still playful, but now it had a slight edge to it. something deeper, something almost serious beneath the surface.

“yeah,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, unsure. “you’re always joking, cheol. nothing's ever serious with you.”

he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you. for a moment, everything went still. the usual playful banter was gone, replaced with something much heavier, much more charged. “is that what you think?” he asked, his voice softer, quieter than you’d expected, like he was genuinely hurt by your words.

seungcheol sighed, his usual cocky mask slipping completely as he watched you. “i don’t joke when i say i want you,” he said quietly, his voice sincere in a way you’d never heard before. “i don’t joke when i say you mean something to me.”

you blink once, and then twice. then, before his words fully registered in your head, he continues, “& I definitely wasn't joking when I said I like you.”

his words hang in the air, each one going off like fireworks in your head.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours, almost searching for something in your expression. “i’m not always joking, you know,” he added, his voice even quieter now, as if he was afraid of what you might say next.

your chest tightened painfully. his words felt like a weight—heavy, real, undeniable.

“i can't tell if you're being serious-” you whispered, your heart racing as the words tumbled out before you could stop them; but seungcheol did.

seungcheol kept his eyes on you, his gaze unwavering, steady, affirming. “i'm not fucking with you, princess. I mean, unless?” he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

this time, you roll your eyes and you hit him on his chest lightly, “can you be serious for once?”

“alright, alright, i was joking about the fucking- but also not, well not the one before. you get what I mean.” he said hastily, a shit-eating grin adorning his handsome face.

seungcheol slowly reached for your hand, and when his fingers brushed against yours, the electricity between you both felt undeniable. “i mean it,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest. “i really do like you. a lot.”

you tried to find the familiar cocky, playful glint that his orbs always wear, but it was replaced with something deeper. something more vulnerable. you were still reeling from everything he had just said, trying to process it all.

“so tell me now, what are we, really?” his fingers lingered over yours, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. “i believe i already told you a long time ago how i feel about you, though, I wish you would have taken me seriously back then.” he repeated, his voice gentle. “so what do you say? because if it were up to me, we’d be something more. but it’s up to you, too.”

your heart thudded in your chest, and you found yourself leaning into his touch without thinking. the hope in his eyes, the vulnerability behind his usual cocky demeanor—it was enough to leave you speechless. but this time, you knew he wasn’t joking. he was waiting for your answer.

you don't say anything, not verbally at least. you take in a shaky breath, you let yourself smile back at him, your fingers curling to hold his.

seungcheol's eyes lit up at this, and he grinned, the smugness returning in a way that made your heart feel light. “finally,” he teased, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “i thought i was going to have to flirt with you forever to get you to see it.”

you laughed, the tension melting away, and this time, it felt different. it felt real. “well great, you can stop flirting now.” you say, relieved.

“oh, absolutely not,” seungcheol replied, his smile warm and genuine. “because now, you know I mean it & i know you’ll take me seriously.”

and as he leaned in closer, your laughter was swallowed by the way his eyes sparkled with something you’d been waiting to see all along: the promise that maybe everything he’d said before had been leading to this moment.

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #svt x reader #fanfic #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol seventeen #seungcheol seventeen #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fanfic

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feeder86 · 22 hours ago

Text

Guy and a Gain...Again!

“Fancy doing this with me?” Guy asked his housemate, holding up an advertisement for a triathlon in the Spring.

Baz winced slightly. He was certainly a very fit man, but there was no point in trying to compare his athleticism with the likes of Guy. Guy was an absolute machine; his body a temple; a testament to years of tireless dedication and training. “Nah…” he replied with a sigh. “It’s right around the time of Lucy’s birthday. She’ll probably want to do something special.”

Guy nodded and resisted the urge to complain. Baz had been so much more fun before he got with Lucy. Soon it would be just like all the rest of his old friends: engagements, weddings and children. How boring! In Guy’s opinion, it was always far better to keep things casual and pursue your own interests in life, rather than getting tied down. He’d only fallen in love once, and that hadn’t exactly ended well. The only person he could ever truly rely on was himself.

“That’s fine,” Guy smiled. “I think they do another one later in June.”

Baz shook his head. “No thanks, Buddy.”

Guy sighed as he watched his housemate disappear into his bedroom. It wasn’t that Guy needed any help paying the mortgage on this condo; he’d sweet talked his way up to quite a level of seniority in his job and was always looking about for the next jump into something better. No, Guy had always had a housemate for the simple fact that he hated being there on his own. He craved interaction and the glory days, when he lived in the college dorms, with plenty of people about, at all times of the day.

Despite how messy and occasionally disorganised Guy had been in college, his apartment was a perfect utopia of minimalistic calm. He excitedly plumped up the sofa cushion and set some frozen pizzas to heat up in the oven as his buddies Christian and Harry were back in town for the night. He’d met them years ago, back when he was still seeing Mikey, his best friend in college. With Mikey’s interest in gaining weight, the pair of them had visited a few feedism events in their time; with Guy picking up more than a few friends that he still kept in touch with.

“Look at you!” Guy swooned, seeing Harry as he strolled in, belly first. He’d gone softer and jigglier, purposefully bouncing as he walked as if to emphasise it further.

“I’m up 45lbs since you last saw me,” he boasted, kissing Guy on his cheek. “I’m only fifteen away from the big four hundred!”

“Impressive!” Guy laughed. There was just something so joyful about the way guys like him shamelessly enjoyed their bodies. He didn’t care what anyone said - it was a definite turn-on.

Sloping in behind Harry was his feeder boyfriend, Christian. Usually stick thin and trendy, he appeared that day to be more than a little bloated. A thickness had begun to encircle his waist and his handsome face had puffed up with a doughiness that was surprisingly distracting.

“What happened to you?” Guy teased, patting Christian on his under-exercised butt and failing to find the tightness he was used to. “All the feeding finally got the better of you, huh?”

Giant Harry turned around, smirking. “His fast metabolism crashed,” he explained, failing to hold back a chuckle. “Ten pounds was all it took and his little dick was craving more and more blubber.”

Guy laughed and looked over his buddy, Christian. When he’d met him a few years ago, he’d been one of the kinkiest and least compromising feeders Guy had ever come across. He’d taken chubby Harry and poured gallons and gallons of fattening shakes down his throat until he’d swelled into the rounded blob that he was today. Yet, now look at him; his kinks turning inwards. “What is it about you feeders?” Guy asked, full of disbelief for what had become of Christian. “It’s like you all have some sort of expiration date before you start going all soft.”

Christian shrugged. “What can I say?” he smiled. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” he nodded, raising his t-shirt a little to reveal the swollen, pot bellied middle on him.

“Jeez!” Guy marvelled, having never imagined such a thing on the boy before. “Look at that!”

“That’s not all,” Harry grinned, stepping around Christian and pulling back his lover’s sweatpants to uncover the top half of his broad butt and lifting his shirt up from the back.

Guy couldn’t help but laugh when he saw what Harry was showing him. He reached out and stroked the skin where Christian had had a brand new tattoo of a small pig tale inked onto his body. “You boys are such kinky little fuckers!” he marveled, instantly getting an erection.

“I wanted something that would ensure there was no going back,” Christian explained, equally aroused to be leaning forward and showing this off to Guy.

“And how do you feel about this?” Guy asked Harry. He had always been the submissive one in the relationship, despite seeming to enjoy a slightly more empowered status at present.

“I love it!” Harry laughed, grabbing a full roll of blubber from Christian’s side and jiggling it. “I’m going to triple every pound he put on me, sending it straight back onto him!”

Guy grinned, his eyes dancing with delight. He simply loved the kinky talk between these two. He always had. They knew exactly who they were, and were proud to embrace it.

An hour later, the three boys were lying in Guy’s supersized bed. Sweat pouring off them, pizza and crumbs filled the bed sheets as Guy lay back with the two chubs resting their heads on his broad shoulders. It had been the first time Christain had wanted to be fucked by him and, although he had made a valiant effort, he’d found Guy’s size too challenging to take. Instead, Harry had stepped up, bending over beautifully whilst a horny Chritain gorged his chubby face on everything available as he watched.

“Do you ever hear from Mikey these days?” Harry asked.

Guy sighed at the mention of Mikey’s name, but it hurt a lot less than it used to. “Not for a few years now,” he answered. It had been his own fault. He had been the one to stop replying to messages and never picking up the phone. However, he’d needed to step away for his own mental health. It didn’t do to dwell on a lost love.

“You should see him now,” Harry laughed, handing over his cell phone with a clear picture of Mikey from his gainer socials: enormously fat, rounded and bursting with lard. “He’s well over five hundred pounds these days.”

Guy studied the picture with awe. There was the boy he had once adored, now consumed by his own hunger and lust for fat; his neck a distant memory, his arms giant sacks of blubber.

“Good for him!” Guy smiled fondly, remembering the skinny boy he had once fooled around with. “This is exactly the sort of shape he always wanted.”

“You should come with us to the gainer evening tomorrow,” Christian suggested just as Guy handed back the cell phone.

Guy chuckled at the idea. “I haven’t been to one of those in years.”

“You do like gainers though,” Harry smiled, noticing that Guy’s hardness had been resurrected after seeing Mikey’s picture.

“My dick likes a lot of stuff,” Guy simply replied. “Body confidence most of all.” But as the boys talked and talked, he was gradually persuaded, agreeing to meet them there the next evening after his date with a girl from his gym.

Upon arriving past midnight, Guy left his shirt with the bartender, setting about to flirt and enjoy the attention of all the fat men who were ogling him. The gainer scene had come a long way since he’d last been out. The pot-bellied boys had been replaced by extreme superchubs with at least one scrawny-looking feeder under their giant arms. Guy flirted and played with them all, happy to indulge their fat kinks. Yet, there was one younger man, standing to the side who kept catching his attention: tall, handsome, with strong, rounded shoulders and a slim waist. Throughout the early hours of the morning he stood alone, watching from the sidelines, nursing a beer and not getting involved.

Perhaps the gainer scene had become more insular and harder to break into as an outsider, Guy thought to himself. It wasn’t a problem that Guy had personally. Harry and Christian could both vouch for him, and his strapping body caught the attention of any he didn’t yet know. Guy, it could be said, had never been shy. Even as a non-drinker, he never failed to insert himself, front and center, into any social event.

“So, what brings you here?” Guy asked, heading over to the handsome boy and introducing himself, seeing as no one else seemed to be making an effort.

The man stood up a little straighter, as if on high alert. He shifted his feet and passed his beer from one hand to the other, looking as if he was unsure whether to give his real name or not. “Dillon,” he finally offered. “And… Oh… I don’t know…I was just curious,” he mumbled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to come and speak to him, let alone ask him why he was there.

Guy smiled, finding the awkwardness surprisingly cute. If the boy was here, at this gainer event, there was going to be something kinky about him; something just waiting to be unlocked. “Have you slept with many fat boys, Dillon?” he asked, knowing his forward question would continue to make the boy squirm with such amusing awkwardness.

Dillon shook his head. “No… I’ve… I’ve not long been out of a relationship.”

Guy nodded knowingly. “Ah, so now the shackles are off and you’re free to explore?” he laughed, feeling like he was getting somewhere at last.”Well, if you’re looking for a good fatty to fuck, I can highly recommend that one over there,” he pointed. “Just shy of three hundred pounds, growing fast and as kinky as they come. Want me to introduce you?”

Dillon shook his head quickly. “No, no… that’s okay,” he shot back shyly.

Again, Guy grinned, knowing that he still hadn’t quite hit upon the reason why such a conventionally good looking boy was there that evening. “Or… if you want…” he offered slowly and teasingly, “...I could introduce you to some good feeders,” he smiled, giving Dillon’s flat stomach a little pat.

Dillon stared back at him with wide, wondrous and almost childlike eyes. Bingo! There it was: the real reason Dillon had come along that night.

“So, how long have you wanted to be a porker?” Guy rolled on, deciding to take it all in his stride. Of all the arousing conversations he had had that night, nothing had turned him on like this. There was just something so exciting about finding genuinely fresh meat in this scene.

“What makes you think I want to get fat?” Dillon asked, giving Guy more eye contact than he had managed before.

“Hmm, let me see!” Guy smiled “The little bulge in your pants when I mentioned it. The slightly higher pitch of your voice just now,” he shot back at him, chuckling.

Dillon looked around the room and back to Guy. “Do you think anyone else knows?” he asked shyly.

Guy laughed once again and swept his large arm over Dillon’s shoulders. “Well, you just told the biggest blabbermouth in the room, so… yeah, pretty soon everyone is going to know that you want to be a little lardass too!” he teased. He looked at the boy up and down and smiled. “You’ve really never told anyone before, have you?”

Dillon shook his head once more. Then he followed without question as Guy led him out of the venue and into a cab, heading back to his apartment. His prize, secret catch for the evening.

Guy awoke the next morning with Dillon lying on his front next to him, still naked and splayed. As Guy had teased him about his gainer kinks, the boy had seemed to submit more and more; sucking him off with excellent skills and finally bending over and letting Guy fuck him without reservations.

“Morning, Sleepy Head!” Guy teased as the boy rolled over and realised he was waking up in a stranger’s bed.

Dillon looked at Guy, clearly piecing everything back together from the night before. “I can’t believe we did all that last night,” he chuckled.

“I can,” Guy smirked back. He’d inserted his dick so deeply into Dillon’s butt after making him down a protein shake, he almost panicked when the boy came; so intense and extreme was his moaning. “So…” he began playfully, leaning on his side and looking directly into Dillon’s eyes, “...Is today the start of a whole new era for you?”

“What do you mean?” Dillon replie/d.

“Well, you said last night you’d never even been with a guy before, let alone had your gainer kinks indulged like that.” He smirked, remembering just how hard he had gotten Dillon. His erection had been like concrete. “I know you can talk the talk when it comes to letting go and getting fat, but do you really have what it takes?”

Already, Dillon’s dick was starting to levitate and stiffen.”Oh, I have no worries there,” he nodded. “I love food. What turns me on is the idea of being able to eat whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“Genuine greed,” Guy smiled knowingly.

Dillon nodded once again. “I mean, being fed by someone to the point of being absolutely stuffed just doesn’t appeal to me as much as the idea of just…”

“Letting go,” Guy finished for him. The idea was appealing, especially for Guy who had never been much of a feeder himself. He’d tried several times in the past to pretend that forcing food down a gainer’s throat turned him on. However, the reality had always been that he didn’t have the patience for it. Fattening, for him, was something a gainer should do in their own time. He only wanted to enjoy the horniness that derived from the evolving transformation. Not that he had ever come across a gainer who felt that way.

Dillon had had to grab and tug at his hardness. “Letting go,” he repeated. “That’s exactly it!”

Guy smiled, watching the lust taking over the pretty boy. “You know your job as a gardener will have to go, don’t you?” he asked. “If you want to grow your ass, you’re going to need something where you can sit down on it throughout the day.”

“You think I should quit my job?” Dillon asked, turned on that Guy had even remembered how he earned his living.

“Of course I do,” Guy chuckled back, still just watching as Dillon’s fantastic arousal sent him to higher and higher levels of submission to his kink. “Trust me, as a guy who has fucked so many fatties in my time, letting go is more than just eating. It’s about letting that entire softening process take over your body. Laziness. Lethargy.”

Dillon was tugging at himself at a faster rate than ever as Guy spoke. “I’m going to hand in my notice first thing tomorrow morning,” he declared, seeming to get closer to climaxing as the words left his mouth. “I’m actually going to do this!”

“Good boy!” Guy grinned, watching the kink consuming Dillon and sending him into a frenzy of lust. He didn’t even flinch as Dillon squealed and ejaculated all over the bedsheets in every direction. How fucking sexy! That shy, quiet guy back in the club now making a great mess and freeing his secret desires. There was simply nothing better.

Guy could have kicked himself for not giving Dillon his real number when he left. At least, he certainly thought that’s what he had done. It was a force of habit. As the weeks went on, he often thought back to Dillon, wondering what had become of him. There was no doubt in Guy’s mind that his date that night wouldn’t have actually started gaining. He was too pretty and far too reserved outside of the bedroom to actually do that to himself. Still, his kinkiness for it had given Guy a boner more than once when he’d thought back to their night together.

Months had gone by before Guy saw Dillon again. He’d actually been on a date with a girl from his new gym when he’d spotted Dillon working behind the bar at the club he had taken her to. He’d recognised the handsome face right away, but his breath caught in his chest when he took in the boy’s body. The fattening had clearly started. Dressed in a smart white shirt, the cheap material clung to the emerging love handles that puffed themselves over the tight waistband of Dillon’s pants. An overall thickness had spread into his stomach and chest, whilst a slight padding appeared to have amassed itself under his chin. It was a decent forty pound gain if ever Guy had seen one; no added muscle, just clear laziness and overindulgence.

Guy sat his date at a table and headed straight over to the bar, losing all interest in anything else. As he approached, he witnessed Dillon at the bar, turning around to the ice bucket and observed the beauty of his swollen glutes, rounded and bulbous, without taking on the complete broadness that came with the obesity that could come later. Having not been with any other men since their night together, Guy’s mind was able to return to the memory their night with ease; picturing those small, tight little glutes as they had been. Now his dick felt more alive than it had all evening, and when Dillon turned to serve him, Guy only had one question: “What time do you finish tonight?”

Dillon laughed and raised an eyebrow. “What about your date over there?” he asked, pointing across the room. He’d clearly spotted Guy from the moment he’d entered the bar.

Guy looked back as well. His date was pretty and surprisingly intelligent, judging by their conversations that evening. But it wasn’t her he wanted to take home that night. He turned back to Dillon and simply repeated his question.

Dillon seemed to consider it for a second. “Midnight,” he simply replied, knowing that Guy would be waiting outside to pick him up as soon as the clock struck twelve.

Getting rid of Guy’s date had been easy. He’d simply dialled back to flirtation and acted as a gentleman, taking her home with only a sweet kiss on her doorstep. Making her wait for a second date for anything more would only guarantee that she would be more eager next time.

“Well, well, well…” Guy grinned, leaning against the roof of his sports car as he witnessed an almost chubby-looking Dillon strolling out of the bar later that night. “Look at you!”

Dillon smiled and rubbed at his torso, seeing that they were going to bypass all the usual pleasantries. “I’m getting there,” he nodded. “It’s all just very slow. I feel like I should be bigger than this by now.”

Guy rocked his head to the side, inviting Dillon to climb into his car. Then the pair of them set off.

“I need to stop for something to eat first,” Dillon pointed, highlighting a fast food place only a few yards down the street.

Guy resisted sighing. He’d been waiting to get his hands on that bigger butt for some time. Now he had to wait whilst Dillon did the typically boring gainer stuffing? Nonetheless, he dutifully pulled over and followed the guy inside. He noticed a couple of the guys nodding at each other with a smirk at the sight of Dillon, as if they knew him all too well as a fixture around here. Then one attendant went to the cash register, bracing himself against it, as if preparing for something quite extreme from Dillon.

“Good evening,” he smiled dutifully. “What’ll it be tonight?”

A greedy little tongue slipped very subtly out of Dillon’s mouth, moistening his lips and he swallowed at the smell of everything cooking behind the counter. He began listing off a great number of items with ease that made Guy realise just how long they were going to be stuck here.

“Anything for you, Sir?” the young worker asked, seeming to know that everything that had come before it would be consumed entirely by Dillon.

Guy declined. He never ate at these sorts of places, but dutifully paid with his card, much like he would do with any of his dates. A great mountain of food began piling up on the tray and the two men soon retreated to a quiet table in the corner so that Guy could wait for Dillon to gorge himself.

“I see you quit the gardening job,” Guy smiled, appreciating how handsome Dillon looked in a shirt.

Dillon nodded; his eyes only on his food as he began throwing fries and nuggets into his mouth. “You were right. It was the perfect first step. I needed to cut the excessive calorie expenditure, day-to-day.”

Although Guy had come across more than a few gainers in his time, none of them had set about eating in the way that Dillon did. The boy seemed genuinely hungry, attacking the food in a cold and almost calculating manner, as if to ensure it was consumed in the most rapid way possible. He didn’t care that his mouth was sometimes full as he replied to their conversation, and he didn’t whimper with submission or lust as he started the third and then fourth burger. Nothing about the scenario was in any way theatrical, making this, by anyone’s standards, an act of pure greed. A chubby boy who simply loved his food.

“So that’s how I came to work at the bar,” Dillon finished fifteen minutes later, wiping his mouth with a napkin and sighing with relief as his stomach bloated more than ever before. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, not even pausing to burp or appreciate his immense gluttony.

Unpeeling Dillon from his tight clothes that night had been one of the most erotic things Guy had done in years. A plush layer of fat had spread across the boy’s body, but pooled especially well in his love handles, chest and stomach. Guy growled with lust as he saw those doughy glutes and the pair set to pleasuring each other as if they had an expertise on how to make the other moan with lust.

Falling asleep with a hand resting on Dillon’s hip, Guy had felt more content than he had in quite some time. However, he awoke a couple of hours later, noticing that his date had slipped out unnoticed. He got up, pulling his underwear back on, just in case his roommate was sleeping there that night, even though he doubted that would be the case. Then he strolled into the living space hearing the sound of crunching over by the counter and the hunched silhouette of Dillion, sitting at a bar stool. He’d helped himself to a large bowl of sugary cereal that definitely didn’t belong to Guy and was busy munching away.

“It’s three in the morning!” Guy whispered, coming up behind the chubby boy, slipping his hands around his torso and kissing him on the side of his neck. “What are you doing up?”

Dillon chewed and swallowed. “I always get hungry at night,” he explained. “When I was growing up, my parents taught me to just ignore it. They said it wasn’t good for me to eat in the middle of the night. Now I don’t need to worry about that.”

Guy chuckled, nuzzling into Dillon even more and rubbing his protruding stomach. The more stories like this he heard, the more he realised that Dillon hah always been a fat boy, trapped in the body of a thin person. Slouched as he was now, his stomach fat seemed even more developed than Guy had realised, with his buttery nipples beginning to balloon and sag every so slightly onto the shelf below.

“Has anyone played with your tits yet?” Guy asked, beginning to massage them as Dillon resumed his eating. He’d remembered gainers telling him in the past how sensitive the nipples became as boys fattened up; he’d made more than one fatty climax simply by playing with them in the same way he would stimulate all the girls he had slept with.

Dillon moaned a little and twitched with stimulation. Guy could tell he’d never experienced anything like it before; perhaps not even realised that he had been developing such an erogenous zone. “That feels really nice,” he sighed, leaning back into Guy’s muscular chest.

“You wait until I have even more fat to play with here,” Guy teased. “If you think this feels good now…”

Dillon sighed with contentment at the idea. One thing was for certain: there was no way he was leaving without Guy’s real number that time.

“I want you to meet, Dillon,” Guy smiled, moving out of the way so that he could push Dillon forward. It had been a good few months since the last gainer event where Dillon had failed to make an impression. It was the reason why Guy had cleared his diary to make sure he could take him to this next one; holding his hand as they walked in.

Like a piece of meat, the eyes of all the men went up and down Dillon’s body. Guy stood back with pride. The boy’s love handles and protrusive stomach were some of his greatest features, but his butt too had developed a mass to it that was anything but athletic. However, more than anything else, the ring of freshly shaved fat that was starting to wrap itself under Dillon’s chin was undoubtedly the finest achievement of all. This wasn’t just a chubby boy they were dealing with; this was a true fat-boy glutton.

They hadn’t believed Guy when he’d explained how quickly Dillon had packed on his now eighty pounds of excess blubber, but the angry looking stretch marks surrounding Dillon’s belly button had gone some way to convincing them that he hadn’t just made it all up. Although he and Dillon were not officially an item at this event, Guy stuck close to him, feeling oddly protective. Usually, at events like these, Guy would have pulled his shirt off and enjoyed as much attention for his strapping body as possible. However, that night was all about Dillon and getting him connected with as many in the scene as possible.

Guy looked around seeing how many of the gainers and admirers were checking Dillon out; his handsome face and doughy body that seemed to cry out that this was a recent and rapid weight gain. Guy wanted them to look and see for themselves,but then another emotion began creeping in as well. Dillon was his discovery. He was the one who had helped him unleash the gainer and the one with a dominant hand on that big, wide rear. Why should anyone else feel they had a chance with him?

“So, how was it?” Guy asked afterwards, leading the way back to his car and secretly glad to be getting out of there’ especially after Dillon had told him he wanted to leave and get some food instead.

“Pretty great,” Dillon smiled, hopping into the passenger seat. “There were some very tight clothes on show though.”

Guy nodded. Dillon wasn’t the type to advertise his weight gain with figure hugging t-shirts or pants. “Well, some guys just like to show off,” he explained diplomatically. “Wearing tight clothes makes them feel even bigger and fatter than they are.”

Dillon nodded, noting some appeal in it. “But it’s just a fact of life,” he shrugged. “You overeat and your clothes get too small. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, really?” Guy laughed. “Just a fact of life, huh? Maybe I’ll say that to you next time I notice your dick getting even shorter,” he teased, having witnessed Dillon squirting everywhere even at the mere mention of the groin fat that was starting to take off down there. He leaned in and kissed the fat boy, letting his large hand slide down the protrusive tummy and in-between his legs. There it was, the ever shrinking hardness, ready to go yet again.

“A point well made,” Dillon smirked back in surrender.

Guy smiled and started the engine. He’d stop off at a fast food place and buy a load of stuff for Dillon to gorge himself on as he drove home. It was one of the things Guy liked best about him; Dillon didn’t need or want him forcing the food down his throat. He was more than capable of feeding his ravenous appetite himself. All Guy needed to do was place a gentle, encouraging hand on his thigh every now and then as he drove. Then, once they made it home, Dillon would be more than stuffed and wound up like a tightly coiled spring, bursting with arousal and more than ready to head straight to the bedroom with him.

“Who are you messaging?” Guy asked a few months later as he came in with a tray of breakfast pastries for his lover.

“No one,” shrugged Dillon, hastily dropping his cell phone in favor of the food.

Guy felt a little uncomfortable. It was a new feeling to him, this gnawing sense of jealousy. He’d first noticed it at the last gainer event they went to, and it had plagued his mind ever since. It was a selfish impulse, he reasoned. He himself had certainly got around with multiple people since he had started seeing Dillon. They were in no way exclusive and neither of them had ever expressed an interest in being so. So why did Guy have to fight back an unreasonable urge to check Dillon’s phone as the chub trotted off to the bathroom?

“I love having you here,” Guy whispered into Dillon’s ear as the pair still lay in bed, even as lunchtime approached. He had his hand draped over Dillon’s chubby belly and he rocked it, full of admiration for how much the guy had transformed himself in the last eighteen months. “How about you stay here tonight as well? We could watch a movie, order in some pizzas….”

“I can’t,” Dillon replied straight away. “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

Guy nodded. “Nice!” he smiled, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to pry. He didn’t have the right to feel the strange jealousy that had swept over him. “Are you up to something fun?”

Dillon nodded. “He’s going to teach me how to boost my capacity with pizza,” he chuckled, patting his large, padded stomach.

Guy nodded and pulled his lips back into a false smile, as if this all didn’t bother him, especially seeing Dillon getting aroused by just the idea of what was to come. “You’ve got to eat like a five hundred pound fatty if you hope to become one!” he nodded, repeating one of Dillon’s favorite mantras back to him whilst rubbing the boy’s rounded stomach.

Although the opportunity to work in London had been something Guy had wanted ever since he had joined his company, the month-long placement couldn’t have come at a worse time in his eyes. As Dillon became more involved with other gainers, Guy felt like he was less important in the man’s life. He was also going to be away when Dillon finally started his new office job and disliked the thought of missing out on such an important step in his lover’s life.

The girls in London had a sexy, alluring sophistication about them. However, no matter how many of them he bedded, Guy’s mind kept thinking of Dillon. He felt utterly smitten, messaging him as much as he could, always eager for updates.

Guy had been a victim of his own success. The project he had started at work began to take on a life of its own, building incredible momentum. He remembered the bittersweet feeling when he realised he was going to be away far longer than the original month he had planned. However, by the end of the fourth month, Guy knew that the scheme was ready to be handed over; with plenty of scope for him to implement similar changes back home.

With a week off from work after getting back, Guy headed straight over to see Dillon. He carried with him a large bag filled with treats and presents from London and was excited to see how the fattening man was going to react to them all. He knocked on the apartment door, his breath catching in his throat with anticipation.

Suddenly, Dillon was standing there looking remarkably changed. The fat under his neck had swollen immensely, giving Dillon one of the largest double chins he’d seen on a gainer of his size in quite some time. His beautiful eyes had seemed smaller, as large, puffy cheeks dominated his face and his plump, kissable lips now looked like the gateway to a greedy, gluttonous mouth that would consume anything it came across.

The pair hugged and kissed; Guy’s hands roaming across all areas of the remarkably fatter and softer body. Lard had spilled into areas where Guy had never seen it before. Dillon spun around and posed for him, excited by his own remarkable transformation. With a desk job, the gainer’s glutes had seemed to shed all remaining muscle and bloat with pure blubber. He wanted it touched, handled and jiggled, directing an already aroused Guy on how best to experience the new softness. Three hundred and eighty pounds had never seemed so erotic when the person carrying it all loved it so much.

“I was half expecting you to have gained a few pounds after working so hard in London all those months,” Dillon chuckled, gazing upon the immortal physical perfection of Guy; unchanged.

Guy slipped off his underwear and delighted in taking the kinky boy into his bedroom for a session he would never forget.

Being intimate with Dillon had cemented the feelings Guy had had during their separation. He was in love with him; utterly and completely: the easy way they communicated, the confidence with which they both held their vastly contrasting bodies. Dillon was touched by the gifts and how much Guy had remembered about his tastes and interests. Guy held him sweetly as the both drifted off to sleep.

“I’ve been thinking,” Guy began, feeling decidedly nervous later that night. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“So do I…” Dillon smiled back, acting as if he knew exactly what Guy was going to say.

“I know you’re doing so well with your weight gain now,” Guy smiled, unable to resist rubbing the fattened gut in appreciation; marvelling at the sagging nipples that had bounced and jumped the entire time Guy had been fucking him. “Your next milestone is so close. But, how would you feel about hitting four hundred… in London?”

“In London?” Dillon parroted back in surprise.

“They made me quite the lucrative offer before I left. I don’t have to take it, of course, but… come on! Don’t you think it would be so exciting?” he cheered, smiling brightly. “You and me, living in London together? All those restaurants and famous landmarks? I thought of all the places I want to take you. You can grow enormous there. I can give you everything you want. You don’t even need to work, given how much they want to pay me.”

“Guy, this is...” Dillon mumbled, overwhelmed.

“I know, I know… this is huge! But these last four months without you…” he sighed, remembering how utterly miserable he’d been at times. He’d only felt this way about one other person in his life, and he had lost out because he had never managed to build up the courage to say how he felt. Not this time…

“Yeah, it was a long time,” Dillon agreed, unprepared for what Guy was about to say to him next.

“I’m in love with you!” Guy blurted, staring deeply into Dillon’s eyes and wrapping his large hands around his bloated face.

Dillon was stunned into silence. “Guy.. that’s amazing… that’s…” he stumbled.

“You don’t feel the same way…” Guy sighed in stark realisation.

“Well, it’s not as black and white as that…” Dillon mumbled on, clearly trying to catch his brain up with his mouth. “I think it could really work, us living together in London. I really do! But I have so much going on here now. I’m having so much fun supporting other gainers. You not being around gave me time to really lean in hard to all this. It’s the reason why I already broke my desk chair at work,” he chuckled, mentioning it for the third time since Guy had arrived.

“You didn’t miss me?” Guy shot back, feeling like his heart was about to be shattered.

“I did!” Dillon replied unconvincingly. “I was just…” he rambled, still figuring out what he wanted to say. He sighed deeply. “If I’m honest… I was just a little disappointed that you didn’t come back from London a little heavier than when you left.”

Guy looked down at his flat, chiselled stomach. “What?” he blasted.

“I’ve wanted you to gain weight for the longest time. I thought, the more we hung out together, the more likely it would be for my bad habits to rub off on you.”

Guy sat back a little, rethinking everything he thought he knew about Dillon.

“I’m not the only one,” Dillon marched on. “All the gainers we’ve met together say the same thing. We all can’t wait for you to give up the gym and start pushing out a gut.”

“Is that so?” Guy huffed back.

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’d look so fucking hot! You’ve got the build for it. If we moved to London, I could make you huge!”

Guy stood up and started dressing, suddenly realising how badly he had misread his relationship with Dillon. “Gaining is your thing, not mine,” he explained calmly. “I like the way I look and I fell for you because I loved giving you the sort of confidence that I feel in my own skin.”

“But, trust me… when you start putting on your first few pounds…” Dillon retorted, like an all-knowing sage.

“It’s not me!” Guy shot back, cutting him short. “And you’d know that had you been paying any attention at all to me over the last couple of years.” He felt a sudden surge of annoyance. “Tell me… where did I grow up? What’s my middle name? When’s my birthday? Where did I go to college?”

Dillon looked blankly back. He really didn’t remember the answer to any of those questions. And so he watched as Dillon slipped his shirt on, then made his way out of the apartment for the last time.

“Jeff…” Guy said down the phone the moment he made it down the stairs. “I’m sorry to call when it’s so early in the morning there. I wanted to tell you that I’ve thought about your offer…” he explained.

Guy took a breath. This was a huge decision that would change everything.

“I accept,” he stated with absolute certainty. “How soon do you want me back in London?”

#gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gayfeedee #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainer fic

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kkayyerr · 23 hours ago

Note

i sick too! maybe you could do something with daddy rafe looking after a sick reader? i got very clingy when i sick. i hopes you feels better soon!

Sickening

Summary: Pogues let little!reader get sick and daddy!Rafe is not happy about that.

Warnings: Age regression; none.

Authors note: For everyone who’s sick and especially for @marvelfanfics1 🫶🏻.

Rafe was cursing himself for letting you hang out with the pogues. He would never let that happen, if only that day he wouldn’t have to deal with something that he didn’t want your little mind to know. Sarah asks him to babysit you, promising that nothing bad will happen to you and that she and the Pogues will follow all his instructions. Of course they hadn’t. Because if they had, you wouldn’t have stood in front of him right now, looking awfully sick.

„Sarah, are you telling me that you let her go swimming? In the middle of October? And where is her jacket?”

Rafe was trying so hard to control his emotions right now, so he wouldn’t scare you, but he was failing. Thoughts of Pogues letting you do things that were actually dangerous made him furious, and he didn’t even want to hear any of Sarah’s excuses.He was even more mad at himself, for thinking that those assholes would actually care about your well-being and not forget about everything that he had said to them. He was about to start yelling at his sister again as he heard your trembling voice.

„Daddy"

Rafe almost immediately turned to look at you, and what he saw almost made him even more angry. You were standing in front of him, your gaze unfocused and your limbs trembling. You were obviously struggling to stay still because of the exhaustion. He quickly approached you, touching your forehead with his palm.

„Baby, you’re burning.”

He knew that you probably had a fever and that he has to do something about that immediately, before you would get even more sick. His hands quickly grabbed your waist, helping you to stay on your feet, so you won’t fall and hurt yourself even more.

„We need to get you inside, can you walk?”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you just shook your head and did the grabby hands, letting him know that you would like to get carry on inside. Rafe nodded, picking you up and giving you a kiss on the forehead, checking your temperature once again, with his lips this time.

It was definitely too high.

He waited a few seconds, as you were getting comfortable in his arms, wrapping your hands around his neck and then Rafe headed to the house.

„We’re not done with that conversation yet, Sarah."

Rafe said, before closing the door and carrying you upstairs to your bedroom. You felt too dizzy to even say a word, even though you were feeling so guilty for going against his rules just because he wasn’t there at the moment. You also felt sorry for Sarah, you didn’t want him to yell at her like that. When you got to the bedroom he carefully put you in your bed, immediately covering you in your favorite blanket that he prepared earlier, waiting for you to come back from your little playdate with the Pogues.

The last play date, actually.

He wasn’t planning on letting you hang out with them anymore, not without his supervision at least. After you were fully covered, he smiled to you softly and stood up, heading to the small medicine cabinet that he kept there just in case you would catch a cold or something like that. He then came back with the small pill and let out a small chuckle as you gave him a pouty face.

„I know, I know, baby, it’s yucky. But we need to make you healthy again, right?”

You kept your mouth closed, making him roll his eyes. You would always become so grumpy and bratty when you got sick, and even though it was hard to deal with you when you were like this, he would still find a way to make you do as he said.

Always.

„Don’t wanna”

You mumbled, looking at him with a small frown, that Rafe honestly was finding adorable, even though he won’t tell you that. He rolled his eyes, one of his hands approaching your tummy. He then started to slowly wiggle his fingers in a threatening manner, warning you about the consequences of not listening to him.

„Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy, or do I need to tickle that grumpy attitude right out of you?”

Your mouth opened right away, finally letting him put that pill on your tongue. You then swallowed it, hating that icky bitter taste that now was all over your mouth.Rafe patted your head, informing you that he’s proud of you for taking your medication so well, even though it probably had an awful taste.

„Good girl.”

Rafe’s face expression changed to confusion as he saw that your reaction to his words was unusual. Instead of the happy smile, he saw a little hint of guilt on your face that disturbed him; you had never reacted to his words like that before.

Have those Pogues tell you something about him that changed your mind?

„Baby, is everything alright?”

You shook your head, looking a little bit embarrassed. You head tilted down, and he could’ve swear that you even wanted to cry for a second, but then you quickly put yourself together, letting out a loud sigh. Rafe was looking even more worried right now, not understanding what was the deal.

„I’m not a good girl; I’m a bad girl, Daddy. I didn’t listen to you and... and.”

He saw that you were getting even more anxious with every word that had come out of your mouth, so he decided to quickly stop you by pressing a small kiss onto your forehead, letting you know that everything is okay.

"It’s okay. It’s my fault actually; I shouldn’t have left you with those... Pogues.”

Rafe pulled you closer, holding your trembling body in his arms and placing his head on your shoulder, smiling softly to you. He wanted you to know that he’s not going to punish you for the mistakes that other people made—the other idiots, actually.

„But don’t scream at Sarah, otay?"

He laughed at your ask, considering what he would have to say to his sister, so she would understand what problems she had caused this time. Maybe you were right; no amount of screaming will help her little brain understand that sometimes she has to take some responsibility.

„Alright, alright.”

Rafe didn’t want you to think about Sarah right now, because your body and your mind needed peace and comfort right now, not some stupid thoughts about his not less stupid sister. Not some stupid thoughts about Pogues.

„But you still earned yourself a punishment, you know?”

And the next minute, both his hands started to restlessly tickle your poor tummy. Well, at least you clearly didn’t think about stupid worries anymore.

Taglist: @marvelfanfics1 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

#obx #rafe cameron x reader #little!reader #age regression fic #rafe cameron x pogue!reader

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sugdenlovesdingle · 2 days ago

Text

A different first meeting AU inspired by Blink182 - The Rock Show because I think Tommy is a rocker (no pun intended)

I'll post to AO3 when I've had some sleep.

🎵 fell in love with the boy at the rock show🎵

---

It wasn't his usual hang out, but after his break up with Natalia, Buck was desperate to surround himself with as much life as possible.

Some hole in the wall bar advertising live music, outside the 118's jurisdiction, seemed the perfect place to do it.

And also to forget he was currently the only single member of the 118 A shift.

The music was decent, the drinks not too expensive, and he liked the general vibe in the place. Even if he didn't recognise the majority of the songs the band was playing.

"Haven't seen you here before." someone said in his ear and he turned around.

The guy was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

"Oh uh... yeah... I mean... no, you haven't. I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah? And how is that working out for you?" the guy asked, sitting down on the barstool next to Buck.

"Not too bad." he replied. "I think I like it here."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if we'd never see you again." the guy smiled and Buck was almost mesmerised by the way his eyes crinkled when he did. "Do you want another?" he nodded at the almost empty glass in front of him.

"Sure."

The guy got up and rounded the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge.

"Is this your bar or something?"

"It might as well be with the amount of time he spends here." a woman of around their age said, as she walked back behind the bar carrying a serving tray with empty glasses.

"I keep telling you Gina, you should let me buy into this place. Tommy and Gina. Living on a prayer."

"Why does your name get to go first if its my bar?" the woman asked, hand on her hip.

"Because that's how the song goes. Take it up with Jon if you don't like it." he told her and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Get back to your side of the bar, you menace."

The guy, Tommy apparently, laughed again and went back to his seat next to Buck.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"He wishes! I'm a catch!" Gina said while preparing a cocktail.

"Sure you are. If I was into women I would have made a move on you years ago." Tommy told her, looking at Buck from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

"If I was into men, I might have appreciated that."

"She loves me really." Tommy told Buck. "Has done since we were kids."

"He was the new kid in the neighbourhood and my mother made me go say hi and play with him. Haven't been able to get rid of him since." Gina commented, and walked away with the cocktail.

Tommy laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"So now you know my name and how my best friend was forced to befriend me... but I don't know anything about you... yet."

"Well... what do you want to know?" Buck asked, trying to tear his eyes away from Tommy's lips when he took another swig.

"Everything." Tommy replied. "But let's start with your name."

"I'm B- my name's Evan." Buck told him, holding out his hand.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the stumble but didn't mention it.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

They talked for a while. Laughing about everything and nothing, with Tommy getting mock offended when Buck admitted he didn't know the song Tommy insisted was one of his favourites and not many of the others either.

"Hey I spent most of my twenties travelling!" Buck laughed, defending himself. He liked talking to Tommy. He was fun and friendly, and definitely easy on the eye.

Objectively speaking of course. He'd always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he saw one. Just like he'd look at hot women. It meant nothing.

"And you didn't listen to music on your travels?" Tommy asked incredulously.

"I did... but I didn't pay much attention to it I guess" Buck shrugged, taking a swing of his drink. He hadn't really kept track of how many he'd had but he was starting to feel the buzz. "My sister's..." he shook his head trying to think of a word to describe Chim's relation to him and Maddie. "My brother in law..." He settled on. "He's this movie buff and he's always rolling his eyes at me when I don't get his references."

"Not a movie guy either?"

"Not really. I get distracted. I prefer documentaries. I like learning new things." Buck explained and took a good look at Tommy, taking in the amused look on his face. "Let me guess... you're a movie buff too?"

"I like the escapism, sue me." Tommy replied. "But I'm happy to teach you all about the classics. I've been told I'm a good teacher." He smiled and leaned a little closer, and for a minute Buck thought he was about to kiss him.

And how much he wouldn't mind that. At all.

"Thomas, get your ass up here and make yourself useful, man!" the singer from the band that had been playing all night suddenly called out.

And suddenly the moment was gone. Tommy laughed, leaned back, quickly finished his beer, and got up.

"Duty calls... are you sticking around, Evan?"

"Uh y-yeah, sure."

"Great." Tommy said happily and squeezed his shoulder in passing, letting his hand linger just a fraction too long.

He walked up to the stage and someone handed him a guitar.

As the band started playing, Buck recognised the song as one of Tommy's favourites he'd pointed out to him earlier, and couldn't help but stare at the man.

He was laughing with the others and making playing the instrument look effortless.

He was confident. Interesting.

The band played a few songs before Tommy handed the guitar back to a woman Buck hadn't noticed before and he stepped off the stage again.

Buck made his way over, suddenly eager to talk to him before anyone else would have a chance to.

"Hey!" Tommy greeted him and the crinkly smile was back. "Glad you stayed."

"Y-yeah me t-too..." Buck stammered, his brain somewhat disconnected from his mouth. "S-so... you play guitar?"

"Bass actually." Tommy corrected him. "Everyone knows the bass is the most important instrument in a band." he grinned. "I've been playing since I was a teenager and I play with these guys sometimes when I'm around."

"Yeah? You sounded pretty good. You made it look so easy. I wish I could play."

"I could teach you." Tommy offered without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Is that before or after you teach me about classic movies I need to watch?" Buck tilted his head and smiled as he stepped closer to Tommy, only vaguely aware he was doing it.

Tommy glanced down at his lips.

"No reason we can't do both."

Suddenly there were two fingers under Buck's chin, tilting his face up and Tommy's lips on his for the softest first kiss he'd ever had.

It was over before Buck's brain had really caught up with what was happening and he just stared at Tommy with a dazed and confused look on his face.

"Sorry I - " Tommy started but Buck cut him off, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him until neither of them could remember their own name.

~ A few days later ~

"There he is, Tommy Kinard, the man of the hour. Long time no see. " Chim said, pulling the guy that had just walked up to them in for a quick hug.

Buck couldn't get a good look at him from where he was standing. The guy was just muscles under a straining blue flight suit and slightly messy brown hair, until Chim stepped away and Buck choked on air.

Chim's buddy was the Tommy from the bar. The bassist who had turned his world upside down with two fingers under his chin in a dark corner of a bar he'd ended up in by chance.

"Let me introduce you to these two knuckleheads. This is Buck and Eddie." Chim gestured at them. "Guys this is Tommy, he used to be at the 118 when you two were just a twinkle in Bobby's eye."

Eddie stepped forward first and shook Tommy's hand.

"Eddie Diaz, thanks for helping us out."

"Sure thing. If Howie calls I answer. I owe him my life."

Eddie nodded and stepped back and gave Buck an expectant look.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Buck stammered and walked up to Tommy holding out his hand. "I'm Evan... E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy smiled as he shook his hand and Buck's knees turned to jello. Again.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

#bucktommy #tevan #tevan fic #bucktommy fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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orleans-jester · 2 days ago

Text

“You’re welcome,” Maddy said with a small smile, watching Arthur go. Maybe she’d get in trouble for giving that tidbit of information later but she was in too much bliss to care at the moment. Hopefully Arthur would get his private moment - or as private as one can be around Delta and Frank. She was cheering him on.

And then Wulf gave her another amazing compliment. Who sad that the dead were fearsome? There was hardly anyone that she felt more safe with than with Wulf, save for her husband. “Thank you,” She said, looking to see Bastien and Frankie, and smiled fondly. “Did pretty well for myself, didn’t I?”

Maddy had no clue that she was being looked at, whether by someone’s eyes or through them, she was completely in the moment, not thinking about anything other than what she was looking at. Or rather, who she was looking at. Bastien seemed to be having quite a lucid night, even if a few of the things that he said were on the strange end. That was just Bastien. And he kept on lavishing her with the most wonderful words, making her heartbeat quicken.

She felt like the most loved person in the room.

She wanted to acknowledge each and every point because they were all so important to her. The times that he brought up, the things that he liked. Each one was valuable to the both of them, and helped to form their relationship so of course she wanted to talk about all of them - but there was only so much time in a day. Or in a night, rather. And this one, so far, in her pretty dress trying to emulate the night sky, she felt like she was in a fairytale and didn’t want to spend too much time on the past, not when they were making memories in the present.

And then there was a lot of smiling which was definitely odd for her husband. Even when he was overly happy, he wasn’t exactly the big-grin sort. No, she was used to the sheepish little smile that he had for only a couple of seconds before it would settle back into its natural shape. Her dark eyes flickered down to watch his mouth as it moved like that, curiosity starting to grow.

“Oh, thank you,” She said, nodding, smiling herself, though her face was turning more curious than overly-emotional at this point. She did good too - which was always good to note. Only she noticed that he wasn’t looking right at her anymore, but at something over her shoulder. She turned her head as if to look but Bastien managed to interrupt just in time with his suggestion, making her turn back towards him.

“Outside?” She asked, responding to the kiss with one in kind, sweet and gentle. A smile crossed her face again. “Sure, let’s go for a walk.”

Her eyes watched as he got his phone out, texting right there after asking such a question, and the realization finally sunk in. Bastien, her Bastien, was planning something. This made her feel even warmer since his plans were usually interesting, and romantic, and memorable. Like the dinner that he had set up in the old squathouse, where he had bought her a beautiful dress. Whatever this was, it was going to be special. She could feel it in her bones.

There was a text tone. From Elsa. Yes.

Coats was a good idea. It could still get chilly in Louisiana in the fall time, especially in the middle of the night, and around water. So there was not the least bit of opposition in that regard.

“Of course I remember,” She nodded. They had been working up to it for a while. Bastien not only being awake enough to be walking around in dayface, when he usually tried to sleep through it as much as he possibly could, but also the nerves that someone might just be walking by. Maddy had worn her swimsuit that day. And they had managed to put together some sort of trunks for the big guy. It had been a gorgeous day. “Now you can have every day in the sun.”

They really had progressed, and this was a nice reminder of that. They reached their home in the basement of the castle and Maddy started to bundle Frankie up first in a periwinkle puffer jacket, with little white flowers on it. Only then would she put on her own coat.

“Maybe even more special, because we get to see it everyday,” She said, putting her arms into the sleeves. “It’s not fleeting, or seasonal, or far away. It’s .. literally in our own backyard.”

Arthur did believe Maddy never quit caring. Everyone had a nature. That was hers.

"Yes, Yeah. Actually, I should know that."

Heck, she knew him well enough she could see through his faces. The longing must have been written all over it. He was glad for the tip though. His face brightened with it.

"Thanks Maddy. I'll try there first." Then he gave her a squeeze before heading off in the direction of the rooftop stairs. They noticed Figaro and waved before they kept going. He remembered sitting at their table at school before. He was worried about slowing down though. He felt like his clock was ticking even though he hadn't quite stopped and had a full conversation with them. He really wanted to find Frank and Delta.

Maddy spoke so plainly now to Wulf. Time sure did have a way of changing things and clearing the air. Clearing the fog. Yeah, that was it.

"The fog is clear for both of us now. Your family is beautiful." Wulf felt so demystified when it came to the mysteries that hid there in the back of his mind. Everything felt in good order.

Diablo would think about Fig's words. "Good point." Targets? On his face though? He was going to consider that. Fae Magic for the lean in? "Also good point." He added with a sly grin. He'd be off a moment later though.

Little John didn't miss an opportunity to join in silly dancing when he saw Figaro bouncing about either. He partook in that fun with a burly smile.

To the couple of the hour, Bastien and Maddy were having quite the full conversation while dancing. They didn't even know the Laveau couple were off in a seat watching from afar, including them in their admiration of the whole room. They were too busy admiring each other.

Bastien felt like he really messed things up when he couldn't use his words more than once in the history of their relationship and in that she couldn't see what he felt for her. He was trying so hard to make up for that now. Right now while dancing and full of drinks.

He must have done something real good because she not only said he did amazing, but he was watching her face after. He was concentrating so hard he surely hadn't expect any waterworks. It wasn't a bad thing. She was smiling too. Happy tears. He learned that was a thing. He hadn't expected her to go back and say stuff about each thing either. He just wanted her to know it all. Just in case she hadn't figured it out.

In case she didn't know.

Because yes, all that was there in his head and probably so much more.

A tiny part of that more was coming soon. He saw the frost building and he started to not be able to control his smiling. If anyone knew Bastien at all, drinks or weed or not, in a good mood or not, a certain amount of, or certain kinds of smiling would just feel off, and Maddy certainly knew her husband.

He started to realize he and Elsa should have thought of a signal. A text? Should he wait till she came back in?

Between seeing the frost and seeing his wife's emotional face he started to feel stuck in place. His feet stopped dancing. He reached up to those eyes. "I did good." He just needed to say it to reassure himself her crying was good tears.

"You did good." He said about everything she had said back just in case she needed to hear it too.

That window started to be a hyperfixation.

"Let's go for a walk on the beach."

Then he'd kiss her. Then he turned to kiss Frankie's little head too.

Then he'd wonder if he did all that in the wrong order. Should he have kissed Maddy first because of the doing good convo and then asked about the beach? Hugo would tell him to forget it because too late now. Fuck it.

"Beach?" He'd remind as if his mind was still on it through their whole kiss.

He'd be distracted and even start texting on his phone right after a big ol' conversation like that.

Bastien to Elsa: Can we come out yet?

He'd stall a little longer.

"Let's get coats. Frankie should wear a coat."

It was Halloween. It being technically autumn maybe getting coats wouldn't seem too off course.

As they'd walk to find coats he'd ask, "Do you remember the first time on the beach? It was in the day. My day in the sun?"

In the day memories were vital to Bastien. He connected that to Maddy. It became so much more than one. All he ever dreamed of was one.

"You got this." Laverne would encourage with no doubts. Bastien really was on a roll tonight.

He could feel his inside thoughts coming to the surface again. This was what today had been all about for him. It was finally about time and he was leading up to it.

"That's why I love that beach. Us living right here together. It's as special as Paris, pumpkin patches, or Disney World, or rooftops. My first dream come true. You remember when that was my only real dream? One day. Just one. You helped me get new dreams after that."

He was leading somewhere with all this. Of course only Elsa could know that right now and she wasn't in the conversation.

#MaddyxBastien #MaddyxArthur #MaddyxWulf

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niceonejames7 · 1 day ago

Text

the vices of mice

james potter x reader

fluff, friends to lovers(?)

warnings: none really

content: james didn't envision his second date with you to involve so many......rats?

a/n: i kinda hate this ngl, ive looked at this too long. terribly nervous to post but fuck it we ball

Mice.

No offense to Wormtail, they were not James' favourite. But unfortunately, actions always have consequences, and this was it. Mice, popping up in their room, out of nowhere! Someone has retaliated to one of their pranks, and as hilarious as it was to watch Sirius jump around before he had the idea to turn into Padfoot and run away, it had become a nuisance, just in the span of a day. Sirius had made it very clear he wasn't scared of them (he definitely was) which "comforted" Peter (no it didn't, it was very clear that he was scared).

Remus had very explicitly said he would not do it, because he respects his friend's kind. But when after a week, the mice had taken over the dorm, running over sleeping bodies, ruining clothes, eating hidden stashes of sweets and chocolates, it was very clear what needed to be done. The predicament became much more severe when Sirius started wailing about his "lost hair" which had been "eaten by the rats". That's because it's shedding season Pads, Remus jokes.

Some would say this was a diabolical move, as the announcement to finally get rid of the mice was made on a Monday, the exact Monday when it was James' turn to keep the dorm clean, an exercise started by Remus. Previous week, it had been Remus's shift, but the full moon had rolled around, and James didn't have the heart to accuse his friend. If he can go through the extensive process of becoming an animagus, he can get rid of mice, though the former was a much more interesting project.

But this was not his biggest worry of the week, as surprising as it must be.

James had gone on a date.

And now he wasn't sure how to ask for another one.

Oh, the horror.

It had been a week since the date, and you had had a great time. The date had been a success, even though you were pretty nervous. James and you had known each other for a while, and it took much coaxing from Sirius and Peter and a particularly meticulous plan made by Remus to get you two to go on a date.

Now, both of you shut out again, a game being played on who will ask first. Bit of you wanted to win, but the paranoia of losing was much too great.

Two days went by but there had been no progression. Remus, again, had to take matters into his own hands.

"James, just go ask her out. She's not gonna say no!" He exclaimed to the bespectacled boy, who was now rolling his fork to capture his noodles in a spiral, but as he lifted his fork they fell down and James took a bite of a single noodle. But he kept his vision glued to yours. You were unaware of your admirer, or as Remus put it, stalker.

"Actually, I don't care. Just get rid of the rats." He said, shooting a quick apologetic glance to Pete which he responded to with a wave of his hand. He slung his backpack and began leaving the Hall, with Sirius and Peter hot on his tail. James took his time, finally took a few bites of his food and started cleaning up.

He took his last bite when he heard a voice say, "I thought you four had all the same classes."

His head perked up and he saw you, sitting opposite to him, nibbling at Sirius' leftovers, or well, the crusts of bread he had cut off. Fucking prince, you thought.

James was caught a little off guard and he couldn't explain why he decided to slurp the single noodle in his mouth before responding. He had anticipated the wait to be around five seconds, but it seemed as if the noodles had no intention of ever ending. He tried to speed up the process but that only added to his embarrassment.

Your eyes lit with amusement as you took small bites of the crusts,"Take your time." you tease.

He finally let go of the noodles, cleared his throat and spoke as calmly as he could, "I don't take Astronomy. And Remus has Divination."

You hum and a silence follows. James had been nervous before, and now he was panicking. It wasn't a welcome feeling. He had known you since you were kids, it was always easy to talk to you. The nervous anticipating silences bothered him. Fuck this, he thought.

"We have a mice problem."

"Let's not call Pete a problem."

"Not him, you idiot."

You grin but ask,"Who else is a mouse?"

He sighs before responding, having flashbacks to Remus' lectures."We got payback for a prank we pulled. I'm willing to bet this was your friend Marlene's work."

You were willing to bet on it too. The Slytherins wouldn't do something so secret. They liked to show that they had won.

"Suddenly she's only my friend?" You ask with mock skepticism,

"Real friends don't do this."

"Speak for yourself." He grins wide, caught in his own accusations.

"How do you plan on solving it? Burn down her dorm?"

"Unfortunately, I can't. Something very special to me belongs there." He says, a pleased smile taking over his face, which made you smile in return.

"Huh? What do we have of yours?"

"You. Can't let your pretty head burn, can i?"

This took you by surprise, and there were no quips you could respond to him with. A quick blush covered your cheeks and he tilted his head, his smile contagious. You rolled your eyes playfully and tried to brush off your giddiness, "Alright, what are you gonna do?"

"Well, if I don't clean up the dorm by today Remus is going to be my head." James says, thinking back to a few minutes ago. He also remembered how he had told him to 'just ask her out', and a terrible idea popped in his head.

"Would you help me?" He asks, his voice a little quiet. He tried for an air of nonchalance, he didn't think he had achieved it.

"You want me to help you shoo out mice?" You ask, your eyebrows raised.

He only shrug his shoulders, a pleading expression on his face,

"Alright. Sure." You agree, as if you would ever give up a chance to spend more time with him. "I've always wanted to chase mice anyway." You make an excuse, which makes no sense.

"You've 'always' wanted to?" He asks skeptically,

"You have your fantasies, and I have mine, Potter."

"Strange fantasies you got there." He says, slinging his bag over his shoulders and extending a hand, inviting you.

You follow his lead, a bright grin on your face and James' heart does a few cartwheels.

…

"Let me get this straight," Sirius says, holding up his hand to any obstructions, "You asked her to clean YOUR dorm room, which is infested with mice because of YOUR prank, and she's still coming?"

"She's not cleaning it for me." James tries to justify his poor choices,"None of you pricks will help me. So I had to ask for help."

"You must be packing for her to agree with this sorry excuse of a second date."

"Wouldn't you like to know loverboy?" James extends his hands and makes kissy faces towards Sirius when Sirius swats his hands away and escapes him,

"I'll pray for her well-being. You're clearly not right in the head." Sirius says, opening the door rather dramatically before leaving the room with a grin.

"Wow, so it's not cool to kiss homies now?" he shouts after Sirius.

Remus and Peter bark out a laugh at this. They both get up and head towards the library.

He waits impatiently, fiddling with his hands and running his hands through his hair then fixing it, then doing it again and again. He was in the process of deciding whether his glasses looked better on his eyes or resting on his head, when he heard a knock on the door. The same time you always use to indicate it's you who's knocking.

A smile graced his lips and he made a last futile attempt to tame his unruly hair before opening the door.

"I brought cheese!" You hold up a bag, and sure enough, James sees a block of cheese inside.

He barks out a laugh,"For us or the mice?" still chuckling.

"I thought we could share." You say shyly and James wraps an arm around you in pity (or that's what he tells himself).

"Well, at least this will go well with the snacks." He muses.

"Do we have snacks?" You ask excitedly and he points to a pile beside his bed and you run over with grabby hands but he's quick to stop you.

"One snack for every mouse. Think of it as a treat."

After a bit of arguing over the snacks, and opening three chocolate frogs, you finally get down to business. Your hair is pulled back in a ponytail and you've set rat traps around the room when you huff,

"Tell me again why we can't use magic to summon them?"

"You don't think I've tried?"

"This is the last time I'm helping you."

He only grins and gives you pieces of cheese laced with rat poison,

"These are NOT for you." He reminds you.

You giggle and start placing the blocks where they need to be and you've already spotted the first rodent bastard, "James, look!"

James sprints towards the rat, barely catching it, his body jumping off of beds when his feet get tangled in his sheets and he falls with a thump on the bed, his hand still outstretched to reach the rodent. You both sigh in defeat when the rat escapes his reach.

"Goddamn it."

You pat his back comfortingly trying to contain your laughter and say, "It's okay, soldier."

This continued on for a while, and now it had turned into more of a laughing contest than catching (or rather chasing) rats.

You're on the floor clutching your stomach when James disposes of another rat, alive in the bag they had been collecting the rodents. James caught the first one and couldn't bear to kill it, saying it reminded him too much of Wormtail.

Your bag had two more rats than his, not that this is competition, which he has pointed out later in the game, so you were winning.

After having two rats crawl over you before catching them had you at your end, and after what seemed like a few hours of this, it felt like you both had tackled the mice problem.

"You think we're done?"

"Think so."

Both of you headed to the Care of Magical Creatures professor, feeling it more fit to hand them to someone capable. It had taken a while to explain exactly why we had so many rats in bags with us, but he had let us go.

The day had ended and both you and James headed towards the kitchen to grab a bite, after extensively washing your hands.

Sitting down at a corner the house elves had prepared for you both, a bit too nicely than either of you deserved with your untimely demands, but they didn't seem to mind.

The silence after a day of chaos was comfortable, but there was an inkling in your brain that just wouldn't go away.

"I won the game, what's my prize?"

He looks around confused pretending he has no idea what you're talking about, "What game? There was no game."

"I caught more mice than you."

"Oh, did you? I didn't notice."

You nod your head with a smile, a grin fighting to break out. As you take bites of your food, occasionally casting each other a look after a day of enjoying each other's presence, it feels an awful lot like…

"James…" you trail off, his eyes on yours, asking you to continue. Your bottom lip rolls between your teeth to suppress a smirk when you ask, "Was this a date?"

His chewing stops momentarily and he fixes his glasses, pushing them onto the bridge of his nose,

"Could be if you want it to be."

You scoff, amused, "Your idea of a second date is catching mice together?"

"I just wanted a helping hand from a friend-" He stops at your raised eyebrow, his own smile mirroring yours,"I didn't ask you about this as a date. It just…" He trails off, looking for the right words,

"... happened."

"Yeah. Something like that."

His eyes flicker to your lips and there's a moment of hesitation but he leans down anyway, slowly. His lips are just a whisper away from yours,"We could make it an official date."

Your hands rested on his chest, another barely holding onto the piece of orange from your plate, "Good idea."

His smile is wider than ever when his lips lock with yours, slow and teasing as his hands curl deeper into our hair. You sigh into the kiss and you can hear James chuckle, and you swat his chest, which is only responded with him deepening the kiss. You abandon your orange to free your hand when you hear a loud hiccup, "Oh, Missy apologizes deeply. She didn't mean to see that, or interrupt you. Missy feels sorry, please forgive me, I will leave." A house elf, her eyes wider than they already are is covering her face with her hands.

"Missy, no, it's alright, wait don't leave-" She's gone into thin air before either of you could say anything.

You look at James with a defeated look and he says, "I'll find a better place for the third one."

"This one might need a do over, though." You gesture between the two of you,

"Oh, really?" He asks, a teasing edge to his voice,

"Mhm. Multiple runs, so we know which one's the best one."

"I like the way you think."

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter drabble #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #james potter fluff

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yourmomsgranddad · 2 days ago

Text

— THERE GOES THE SPIDER

— PAIRING: Kate Bishop x fem!Stark!reader

— SUMMARY: How do you lose a man? (You forget to cherish him.)

— WORD COUNT: 4.8k

— WARNINGS: based off the episode of 9-1-1, but also hangover, peter and mj wedding, reader and peter dated in the past, reader is a lesbian, peter and y/n being the best friends, cursing

You groaned as your eyes broke open.

What happened last night?

You looked around the room and you didn't recognize anything around you.

You weren't in your room at home. You weren't in Peter's room at his apartment. The bedding was too nice and you could see the living room from the bed.

This was a hotel.

When did you get to a hotel?

A soft groan could be heard beside you. Your eyes went wide. You didn't want to move. Who did you go to bed with last night?!

"Where the hell am I?" The mystery person voiced.

You reached over to grab the blanket and cover your face. You were suddenly embarrassed. You recognized that voice.

You almost didn't want to breathe in fear of her spotting you.

"Who is that?" She shoved, pushing you slightly but you kept the blanket in place, not showing anything.

"It's me, Kate."

Sound stopped, she knew your voice too.

You slowly brought the blanket down, causing her to hit you with her pillow. "What are you doing in my bed? And why are you wearing a bright pink quinceañera dress?"

You looked down in confusion and surely enough, she wasn't lying. Underneath the plush white hotel blanket laid a bunch of pink poofs covered in pink glitter that seemed to have painted the sheets beneath you.

"I don't know what's weirder about this situation. The fact I'm wearing a quinceañera dress or that you know what that is." Kate's lips made a thin line as if she was embarrassed by how she knew what they were. But you didn't feel the need to peel that back, there were more pressing matters at the moment.

You went back to scanning the room as if you weren't in bed with one of your best friends at the moment.

The room seemed to be trashed. Piles and piles of food containers opened on the floor and whatever its contents were caked in the carpet. Another pile of jackets on top of a very huge spill. And what seemed to be a snoring body underneath a throw.

You squinted for a second, making sure you were sure until your eyes went wide. "I think there's someone over there." You told Kate whose eyes went right to where you were looking, her face reflecting yours.

Kate was quick to leave the bed, going to search it immediately. But she fell back into the bed as if something was weighing her down.

She looked down at her hand and weirdly enough, there was a handcuff around it.

You both physically paused, looking at each other in astonishment.

"This all seems eerily familiar."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion while Kate identified the cuff. It seemed to be connected to a chain which she followed under to the pillow. She lifted it up, revealing a very sparkly pink suitcase.

"Where the fuck did that come from?!" Kate shouted, looking at the suitcase in terror.

"What happened last night?" You rubbed your head. At this point, that question was rhetorical, neither of you knew the answer and you were just waiting for someone to yell out all the answers.

Suddenly the body on the couch began to move, moving the blanket off of his face as he woke up.

Both you and Kate stared at the action in anticipation.

Out popped bright silver hair that was absolutely rustled in every way possible. You would recognize it anywhere.

You jumped out of bed, crawling over to the couch.

You gave him a harsh shove until his eyes opened. He gave a sleepy smile that made you somehow a little more mad about your situation.

"Cute dress." He commented, his deep Sokovian accent cutting through the silence.

"Dude! Where are we? Why is Kate handcuffed to a sparkly suitcase?" You basically shook him even harder which wasn't agreeing with the alcohol that was definitely still in his system.

"Not sure, still drunk, ask Ned." He muttered before falling back into his pillow and closing his eyes.

"Where is he?" You wondered loudly, shaking him again, more agitated than before. Pietro reached for the pillow by his feet, lifted it up, and threw it presumably at Ned's position, all with his eyes closed.

"Ned!" He shouted.

Just then Ned rose up from the stained jacket pile, looking like a zombie, pushing them all to the ground. You watched in disgust, your expression reflected on Kate's face as well.

"You're sitting in a stain, Ned!" You complained, a whine apparent in your speech. You felt bad for him but he didn't seem concerned.

"It's fine, it's only vodka. I'm soaking it up in my pants." He nodded it off as if it wasn't that important. But on the list of the things of most importance, it was at the bottom.

"Where are we?" Kate shouted from the bed. Everyone's eyes went to her as they didn't even know she were here.

"Oh easy. We're in Peter's hotel room. This is the one Mister Stark got for him since he wanted to keep with the tradition of not sleeping next to the bride the night before the wedding."

You and Kate let out a tiny breath; one question off the list.

"Where's Peter, Ned?" You felt like this was an obvious question but you still felt the need to ask it.

"Oh I don't know." He fell back into his leakage.

You looked down at the floor, what were you going to do? And where was Peter?

A loud knock was heard on the front door.

"Yo, Pete!" Your recognized that voice of your father. You shivered as if you were getting in trouble as a kid. "Better get a move on, kid! I'm not the one getting married today! You are!"

What to do? What to do?!

"Um Peter will be up in a second, Dad! We're still trying to wake him up." You lied, you looked behind you to see Kate making a disappointed face at you. But you couldn't take back your lie.

"Tell him we need to put feet on the ground. MJ's not going to wait all day!" Then as quickly as he came, you could hear his shoes step away from the door and you knew you were in the clear.

Jeez, what happened last night?

The night started off so normal too.

You were sitting on Peter's bed and he was switching between ties nervously.

"Which one, seriously?" He turned to you but you could not be anymore uninterested.

"Who cares what I think? Choose whatever tie you want."

"You should. It's the tie you're going to have to sit next to all night."

You lit up immediately, grabbing the one beside you, throwing it across the room. "Well burn that orange monstrosity."

"Oh come on, Y/n. How are you a lesbian and hate the color orange?"

"Not every woman who likes women is a lesbian, douche-rag! But I don't know." You deflated. He kind of got you in a box. He couldn't help but chuckle before looking at you concerned and confused.

"Did you date me because I looked like a girl?"

"No. Actually, I broke up with you because you didn't. But who cares? You're getting married tomorrow!"

"Just—i'm worried. What if, in a few years, one of MJ's friends convince her that I look girly and that she should divorce me? I couldn't handle that. And neither will Luke and Leia, our future kids who will get separated in the divorce. They won't survive, Y/n!"

His voice was strained as he began biting his nails.

How had this nervous wreck created one of the best proposals ever seen, said so from Ned?

"Well MJ is smarter than that. One. And two, I'm friends with her and I promise I won't badmouth you." He let out a chuckle, the first one since you had gotten here.

He texted you and told you it was urgent.

Who knew urgent meant what he should wear tonight; tonight was his bachelor party.

"I don't know what I'm worried about. She wouldn't have said yes if she didn't mean it." You nodded.

"It's going to be fine, Parker!" You reassured him as you walked over to him, standing behind him in the mirror. "We're going to party very hard tonight and then tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of your life, okay?"

"I invited Kate," he muttered, his eyes closed as he didn't want to see the look on your face, he already knew what it looked like.

"MJ's about to be a widow."

You raised your hand to hit him as he flinched and ducked.

"We're not married yet! Don't hurt me! I'm just trying to help you!" He stood up slowly, causing you to put your hand down in anger, instead vying to cross your arms.

"You two like each other! I'm just removing a few obstacles, jeez!"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

You zapped back to the present, looking at Kate who was shouting down at you, she was now standing in front of you, suitcase dangling beside her.

"What are we going to do?! We don't know where Peter is! He's supposed to be getting married in a few hours."

So many questions.

And no answers came to your mind.

Your eyes began darting around the room, looking for something, anything to help you.

But there was nothing.

You glanced at the clock.

It was 12:45.

Peter was getting married at 4.

You had time.

"Ok, here's what we're going to do. We have at least 2 hours before Peter has to be at the altar. The location is only a few minutes away. That means we have to find him ourselves before my dad or MJ start freaking out, okay?" Everyone nodded, taking in what you said.

"So are we going to do in the meantime?" Kate wondered, not looking at you, more examining the weird case still attached to her wrist.

"This hotel has a dry cleaner, I know that for a fact. Our clothes should be down there. I'll take Pietro with me, we'll get our clothes and some coffee in his system. Kate, you see if you can get the case off your hand or the stain out the carpet."

You all nodded and you were gone, grabbing Pietro and going to the door.

"Um, it says here, Miss Stark, your dry cleaning was delivered to your room. No one was in there so they left it on the bed."

You and Pietro looked at each other in confusion. "No one? We just left the room and there were two people in it." You mentioned. The man behind the counter began typing violently.

"Nope, no one was seen when they dropped off your clothes."

You were beginning to make a timeline of events in your mind.

You remembered seeing Peter last night but he wasn't in the room with the rest of you.

You know you were in the room a few minutes ago.

But for some reason, it wasn't on the hotel's radar.

Now you were wondering even bigger; what the fuck happened last night?

"So many questions arise, all unanswered." Ned replied. You had relayed all the facts you had gotten from the man at the front desk and it didn't give anything helpful.

You tried to think, to keep everything in your mind clearly but it was kind of hard considering Ned's butt was in front of the fan; apparently that's how he was going to get the vodka out of his pants; it was not working in the slightest.

You looked around the room, maybe something would pop out and scream at you.

A wrapper.

You jumped out of your seat rapidly and flew over to the bed. Weirdly enough, it was wedged in between the bed and the floor. You fished it out with ease.

Why did it look so familiar?

"What's that?" Pietro wondered, taking a sip of his coffee, looking at you as if you were crazy.

But you didn't notice; your brain was calculating where you knew it from.

Lightbulb!

Your eyes went wide as you looked at your friends with urgency in your eyes.

"I know where to look next."

Running down the street Home Alone-style was not easy in a quinceañera dress, you were learning.

But you were determined for answers to your questions.

And your questions lead you to a place of absolute familiarity; Delmar's sandwich shop, a place you knew all too well considering it's one of Peter's favorite places. It made sense that's where you would get answers.

You pushed through the door and slammed the counter as if he owed you money. Mr. Delmar was immediately startled.

"Miss Stark, what are you doing here? The wedding is happening soon!" He stressed; he was aware of the schedule as well, he WAS invited.

"I understand that, Mister Delmar, believe me, I do. But I'm here because I think we came here last night." Your tone couldn't sound more unsure, you weren't absolutely confident of your words. But you hoped he could give you some type of certainty.

Luckily, he seemed to know what you were grabbing at.

"Yes, you did."

As Mr. Delmar recounted what he remembered from your visit to his shop last night, you could feel your memories returning.

Peter could tell how awkward things were between you and Kate were considering you hadn't said anything to her as she entered the limo that your dad bought you. Although your eyes hadn't left her once.

He didn't know how to bring you two together. He scooted closer to you and just gave you a look; a look you wished he would stop giving you. A look that just spoke 'tell me now, whatever it is'.

"Staring is rude. Why don't you talk to her?" He asked, trying to be subtle. Limos weren't exactly private places.

"What would I say to her, Pete? 'I think you're pretty, you should kiss my mouth?'"

"Yes, that's exactly what you should say to her."

You rolled your eyes, he couldn't be serious.

"I'm not joking, Y/n/n. It worked with MJ."

"But you and MJ were made for each other, America's favorite couple. I don't even know if Kate's gay."

*She was wearing a suit to the night's events.

"Something tells me she might be."

Your face crumpled as you looked at him incredulously. "Why should I listen to your gaydar? We dated for a year!" You whisper-shouted.

His face reflected yours. "Girl, we dated for a year! Why should I listen to you?!" You couldn't hide the giggle that spat from your mouth, he wasn't wrong.

"All I'm saying is that I might not be able to talk to her comfortably until I've had a few drinks and something to eat."

His eyebrow raised; Peter smelled something he could help with.

Just then, he leaned forward, grabbing two champagne glasses and a full bottle of champagne.

"One of those things I can help out with right now," he began as he was pouring you both a drink immediately. "The other thing?" He banged on the window, grabbing the driver's attention so he would roll the partition down.

"Take us to Delmar's please."

He nodded as your smile began to grow. You hated that he knew you so well.

"So Peter was with us when we got here." Sadly Ned was voicing the one thing that was bouncing off your head. But you dare not ask that question; you wouldn't get the answer that you want.

"Did we say anything about where we were going next, Mister Delmar?"

He shook his head, causing your panic to grow.

"Your mouths were full of sandwich. All I know is that you were yelling at the man driving you, unintelligible nonsense."

Driver? Dang, you forgot Happy was driving you all night. Maybe he had some answers!

"Thanks, Mr. Delmar, for your help. I'll see you at the wedding later." He nodded solemnly.

As you were slumping out of the store with a destination, you could hear briefly under Pietro's breath, "If there is a wedding."

You turned around immediately, stopping everyone from exiting.

"What if I just killed you right now? With my bare hands." You threatened, your face not matching your words.

His eyes squinted; he wasn't about to back down.

"How would that look? 'Daughter of famous tech tycoon kills boy from starving country.' Say goodbye to your poofy dresses, prinţesă." He fluffed your dress before running off at full speed.

"I hate him so bad." You jokingly said into the sky, your eyes fully closed.

"If it makes you feel better," your eyes opened to reveal Kate standing in front of you, struggling to hold her suitcase. "You are working that dress."

You knew she was only joking but it didn't stop the heat that fanned your cheeks.

But that wasn't important right now.

Finding Peter was.

So you both set off down the street, going where you knew you shouldn't.

The wedding venue.

Everyone's eyes were on you. It was fair, you were in a pink poofy dress, it was out of the norm. Especially at your best friend's wedding.

You found Happy immediately.

Luckily, he was doing what you expecting him to be doing; bothering Aunt May while she was helping.

"Hey, Happy. Do you think you can come over and answer this question?" You wondered, looking around, hoping no one was looking at you (everyone was).

"Where did the dress come fr-" You didn't give him time to finish, grabbing him and snatching him off to the side. He was going to take too long to get there anyway.

"Where did we go last night?!" You whispered, maybe gripping Happy a little too hard.

"The sandwich shop." He seemed a little nonchalant. You wondered if he would remain that way when he noticed Peter was missing.

"After!" Kate shoved, accidentally hitting him with the suitcase.

"Where did that suitcase come from?!" He rubbed the spot.

"That's what we want to know!" Kate shook with anticipation.

"Um, after the sandwich shop, you guys made me take you to a bachelorette party that was happening at a hotel close-by. I was confused but okay." He shortly explained; you felt it coming back.

You guys had a few more drinks in the limo and eventually you started losing it. But you weren't at the point where you felt like you could talk to Kate.

"Maybe if we had a better setting." You slurred to Peter as you were buying your sandwiches.

You didn't know how you got so drunk, it felt like you only had one drink. But you didn't count.

Suddenly, Pietro came slumping in, grabbing you and Peter by the shoulder so you could hear him better. "These bachelorette girls just invited us to their party. It's at a hotel down the street. Can we go?"

On a normal night, Peter was known to say 'no' to all Pietro's weird single activities—he invited Peter to a lot and he had to keep telling him he's engaged—but tonight for a reason that was not apparent to you yet, he said yes.

Pietro skipped up in glee, he was lucky you were drunk. Or else, you would made fun of him all night.

You gave your best friend a sideways glance, this was unlike him. But he just gave you a smirk. "Found your setting."

He grabbed your done sandwiches and your arm before running back to the limo.

"Being surrounded by all those drunk girls, you can try out your lines. Get out your jitters before you try going for the big leagues." Peter slurred. You wanted to blame it on the beer googles but he was making some type of sense. You had no problem talking to random girls, Kate was the thing you were scared of.

—

You found yourself being very comfortable with the bachelorette girls. It was very easy, they weren't looking for anything and neither were you.

You were just having fun. And drinking. A lot.

You had lost Peter and the others as you got into the party, you figured they were just having fun.

That was until Pietro found you, looking very frightened.

"What's up, P?" You wondered, mid drink. "I thought I was hitting on one of the bridesmaids. It was the bride and her soon-to-be husband wants to kill me. We have to go." He grabbed your hand and basically dragged you back to the group. Well Ned.

Ned was hanging out at the door, chatting up some girl when you came up to him, out of breath. While Pietro recounted what he said to you, you noticed something.

"Ned, where are Peter and Kate?"

"Forgetting their son and leaving him home alone?" He joked, making both boys let out a drunken giggle.

"No. Peter Parker and Kate Bishop." He shrugged.

"And that's all I know." Happy finished. "I lost you guys after that. New York is a big city." He seemed nonchalant as if the groom wasn't missing.

"But if Kate was with Peter and we have Kate with us, where's Peter?" Pietro inquired, already trying to get his hands on their finger foods.

"He's at the hotel." MJ came out of nowhere, smacking his hand before he could touch. You all froze, you didn't know how to finish having your conversation with her there. "He's not missing."

"Huh?" You, Pietro, and Kate all shouted at the same time, causing all the eyes to turn back to you.

"Peter? He's at your hotel." She also seemed a little too nonchalant but that was just MJ's aura. "How do you know this?" Kate said.

"Because you called me."

You all shared looks, hoping you all would just know the answer from just seeing one another.

"You called me crying, saying I was going to be a widow because you lost Peter. I had to explain to you that's not how that works. And we found him and Kate fighting a bunch of drag queens in front of a bank. They were robbing it." MJ explained, very deadpan.

"Is that a hate crime? That feels like a hate crime." Ned mentioned before he joined Pietro in his quest to grab the hors d'oeuvres.

"Wait. Is that where the suitcase came from?" MJ gave a nod. "It's full of cash. I called the cops but it's New York, there was a million muggings happening, people getting shot. So you decided to keep it. I don't know why you hand-cuffed it to yourself."

"In the hotel?" That was the part you were stuck on. "Where? We were in the room. He wasn't there."

"You lost Peter?!" You froze at the sound of his voice. You felt like you were in high school again. You turned around slowly to see your dad, seething. At least it wasn't May.

"Kind of. He wasn't in the room when we woke up."

He wanted to question the dress but it was last on the list.

"I don't know how not. I sent you guys up the elevator and I saw you go to the room." MJ seemed confused but now since she drew the lines, you could perfectly color in the picture of the rest of the night.

"We were kind of pissed you ended our night. So we left out the back stairway." You explained, your mouth a thin line. "And Peter didn't come with us. He wanted to go to bed. So he went in the room."

"Well what was the number of the room he went into?" Your dad was now playing detective with the rest of the group. Luckily you could see clearly now. "297, the room we woke up in."

Without any type of warning, you let out a loud gasp, catching everyone's attention.

"We were in the wrong room!"

That was all you said before you took off, out of the venue with everyone following after you.

"We were in 297. But I guess since we were drunk, the number got jumbled and Peter realized." You clarified as you trudged through the hotel hallway, holding the pink madness so you didn't trip.

"He went to the right room and we didn't notice because we were out of it."

You finally were in front of the room, now you all froze.

Something hung in between all of you and none of you wanted to say it out loud.

"What if he actually lost?" Well, Pietro wanted to say it.

"Shut up!"

Your hand paused before it scanned the key on the door. You bursted inside with hope but...

"He's not here."

You sunk. You were sure you were correct. You saw him come into this room. If he wasn't here, where in the hell in New York could Peter Parker be?

"Should we call his phone?" Pietro questioned, his phone already open and looking for Peter's contact.

"Wouldn't matter. Peter could sleep through a tornado. May had to drown him in order for him to get to the SAT." You noted, sitting on the bed in anguish.

But you were very lucky that Pietro didn't listen to you, for once. Because he clicked on Peter's contact and let it ring.

You were about to tell him it was useless, that you should return to your search because this could be Home Alone 2. But then you heard Peter's ringtone ring throughout the room; it was Pocketful of Sunshine.

"He's here!"

You all sprawled out, looking in every corner, hoping for the sound to grow louder. You searched under every blanket, each cushion, even in the bathroom.

You were about to give up, maybe he left his phone in here.

But then you reached for the closet. You weren't even looking.

Yet there Peter was, curled up in a ball, sleeping on his blazer. "Peter?" You gave him a shove, no movement. If he were any other person, you would have thought him to be dead.

You were about to get the bucket when MJ pushed through everyone to get to him. If anyone were to be able to wake him up, it would be his soon-to-be wife.

And she did, very easily.

"Where am I?" He wondered, letting a long overdue yawn.

"The closet." You answered.

"Not anymore." He joked, causing you all to let out a little giggle. At least you knew his humor was still intact.

"Why are you in the closet?"

His face crumpled and you feared the worst. "I thought it was the bathroom."

"Ewwww!"

The wedding ended up being a success.

You figured the bachelor party was a warning, a warning for MJ and Peter not to get married. But they were America's favorite couple, nothing would deter them from each other.

No drag queens robbing banks. Not getting lost. No bachelorette parties in hotels. Nothing stopped their wedding.

You saw Peter unsure last night, wondering if MJ was going to want to marry him, become a Parker. But now, as you looked him, there was no sense of uncertainty. Just love.

It was beautiful.

—

Pietro was finally enjoying the hors d'oeuvres while you sat across from him, enjoying a Capri-sun. No more drinking after last night.

You tried to not make eye contact, Pietro was swallowing the mini hot dogs like they were nothing. He was like a rabid dog.

But your attention was taken off him when Kate began walking up to you, eyes full of wonder. You had almost forgot you had a crush on her, today was pretty hectic.

And she was just pretty.

Your cheeks felt hot, your throat felt like it was about to close.

"Want to dance?" She put her hand out, pulling you up out of your seat. She guided you out to the dance floor where MJ and Peter were already.

Her hands fell onto your middle as you began to groove to the slow music playing. Her eyes fell on yours and you felt like your legs were going to turn into putty.

But you couldn't ignore the question that had been plaguing your mind since last night. So you decided to ask it.

"Why did you run off last night?"

Kate looked to you, perturbed. So you decided to explain further.

"At the bachelorette party, you and Peter disappeared. Why?" She suddenly deflated, you felt like you did something wrong. You almost wanted to take it back immediately and forget it entirely. But she spoke first.

"I got jealous. Of you and the bachelorette girls. I know it wasn't anything but I felt it. And Peter ran after me. Since I was drunk, I spilled my guts and he snitched on you." She grimaced.

Your eyes went wide.

"MJ's about to be a widow. For real this time."

You went to break away from her to go put Peter in the chokehold he so obviously wanted but Kate grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

Without warning, her hand fell upon your neck, pulling you in for a nice chaste kiss.

#help lol #marvel #marvel imagine #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x female reader #michelle jones #mj watson #peter parker #pietro maximoff #the hangover #911 fox

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divinitysotherside · 10 hours ago

Text

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

I NEED YOU , CRAZY GIRL !

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ . your favorite streamer didn’t expect you to break into his house at all, but he likes you !?

warnings . stalker!reader , stalking , breaking in , swearing , freaky suguru fangirls , part 1

.・。.・゜✭ — PART 1 , PART 2 SOON

it was a normal saturday night. suguru just had to finish up a stream, and he’s all good to go.

money is a difficult thing to get a grasp on these days, but suguru has just found out about streaming, and he makes a lot from it.

especially because he looks good. he knows that freaks on the internet love to see quite the looker and pay a bunch of money just to watch them do somthing.

he specifically didn’t want an onlyfans, though. that was weird. what if he went viral and one of his friends, like satoru, recognize him?

he didn’t want to risk ruining his reputation, so he went for gaming instead.

however, gaming can also cause you to go viral if you have an attractive face, and that’s exactly what happened to suguru.

his name and face blew up on the internet. he was everywhere on twitter, youtube, tiktok, you name it.

he gained thousands of new subscribers overnight, and his career was definitely getting better.

however, everything has a disadvantage. this meant that he would be recognized left and right, maybe even to the point that he can’t leave his house anymore.

he has fangirls, yes. a lot of them, specifically.

he doesn’t pay them any attention, they can do what they want. as long as it doesn’t bother him too much.

satoru would come over to his house to read some comments by his freaky fangirls. it seems that satoru has grown amused to this whole streaming thing.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

in a stormy night, satoru was at his bestfriend’s place.

“‘suguru geto i will strike at midnight, and i will knock at your door in increasing numbers’, goddamn, suguru. your fans are somethin’ else!” satoru laughed, elbowing his bestfriend playfully.

“i know, they’re obsessed.” suguru scoffs, typing on his computer.

“don’t you want that? millions of people obsessing over you?” satoru asked, seemingly daydreaming of what it would feel like.

“it’s way worse than that.” suguru sighs, gaze drifting to the clock.

“hey, it’s getting late. are you not gonna go yet? your adopted son might look for you.” he mutters, eyes fixated on the clock. ‘11:57’, it read.

“pfft, that brat never learns. but i still love him, so yeah, i’m gonna go.” getting up, satoru waves at suguru before slamming the front door shut, leaving the raven–haired fella alone again.

shutting down his computer, suguru went downstairs to get a drink. right as he was going to get a drink, darkness enveloped the room.

the power went out, goddamn rain.

suguru sighs, quickly walking over upstairs to his bedside cabinet where he kept his flashlight. “i guess i’ll wait for the power to get back on.” he sighs.

knock!, he heard.

it was not that loud, but also not silent enough for suguru not to hear. he looks out of his bedroom window to check on his front door, there seeing a silhouette of a person.

is this satoru playing a prank on him?

“that bastard,” suguru huffs, ignoring the man on his door.

knock! knock!, this time, two times.

“fucking hell..” he groans, sitting on his bed, waiting for satoru to go away.

knock! knock! knock!, knock! knock! knock! knock!, knock! knock! knock! knock! knock!

“3.. 4.. 5?” suguru counts. when they knock, they pause when they hit a certain number.

knock! knock! knock! knock! knock! knock!

it was getting annoying. who is this? satoru would’ve been too busy to make a prank last as long as this.

he looks out at his bedroom window again, finding the person gone.

finally. he called it, it was satoru.

wait a goddamn minute.

“‘suguru geto i will strike at midnight, and i will knock at your door in increasing numbers’, goddamn, suguru. your fans are somethin’ else!”

what satoru said. was it that fan? or is it just satoru actually playing a prank on him?

clank!

the sound of glass shattering can be heard from downstairs. now suguru knows that this is not satoru.

somebody is in his house.

running over to the staircase, he sees a figure, perfectly illuminated by the moonlight. “shit,” he curses, rushing over to his room, locking the door.

“who the fuck..?” he mutters, grabbing his phone to call 911. his fingers shake as he enters in the three numbers, putting his phone on his ear.

“911, what’s your em—” the caller was cut off as his phone’s battery dies. “fuck, how!?” he grits his teeth, trying to find anything to call the cops with.

maybe he could escape out the window? no, that’d be too risky. but, he’s already going to die for fuck’s sake!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

he hears banging on his bedroom door. fuck, he’s so dead. he opens a window, getting ready to jump.

as his feet lifted off of the ground to jump, something pulled him. he falls to the floor, groaning in pain.

he looks up, seeing the intruder. they wore a hoodie that covers their face up. “y–you!” he grunts, attempting to stand up.

the intruder just places their feet on his chest, making him fall back to the floor.

“suguruu..?” a woman calls his name...wait, a woman?

“who the fuck are you..?” he asks, groaning.

“well..” she laughs, slowly taking off her hoodie as she leans down.

taking off her hoodie, she reveals herself to him. “suguru, good evening..” you purr, smiling down at him.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #part 1 #divinitysotherside

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spectralscathath · 13 hours ago

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Tour Guide to the Unexplained- a Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 8- Still Waters

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a weird historical festival, not being a strange lady who lives in the junkyard, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

“Fish-ing day! Fish-ing day!” Stan and Ford chanted in the back of the truck, Stan’s left hand now stuck in both a sling and a bright red cast that had Ford’s neat cursive and Dipper’s messy scrawl signed on it. He’d printed his own name in block letters as well, and he was going to make sure he got all sorts of signatures. Jimmy and Carla for sure, definitely Dan, he supposed he could allow Ford’s cool nerd friends to sign it if they asked, and hopefully Soos and Dolores as well. Last time he broke his wrist, no one but Ford signed his cast, but this time would be different.

“Yunno, Granpa showed me how to put a hook on a line with my eyes closed,” Stan bragged.

“He showed me how to make a fishing lure,” Ford bragged louder.

“I’m sure you both have lots of fishing skills to teach me,” Dipper, despite his claims that he hadn’t ever fished, had managed to pull out a solid fisherman’s outfit, overalls and waders and even a beanie. He’d mumbled something about a cursed lighthouse when they’d pressed him on it.

“Yes we do.” Stan looked out the window as they drove into town to buy some fishing gear, but something seemed off. “Is that a covered wagon?”

“What?” Ford scrambled to look out his own window, voice growing increasingly worried. “Grunkle Dipper?”

“Oh, it’s Pioneer day. I totally forgot.” Dipper drove around a cow and pulled into a space on the side of the road. “Yeah, this is the anniversary of Gravity Falls’s founding, so everyone dresses up and does historical activities. It’s kinda fun, what do you think?”

“This looks stupid.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Grunkle Dipper, those costumes are historically inaccurate!” Ford sounded like he was about to have a breakdown.

“Okay, no Pioneer day.” Dipper shrugged before he pulled out his wallet and handed them five dollars each. “I still need to go get fishing gear, so how about you two get yourself some old-timey candy and we’ll meet back at the car in, say- half an hour?”

“What? You’re leaving us alone with the hicks?”

“They’re using modern breeds of chickens for their re-enactments, this is terrible.” Ford sounded faint.

Dipper got out of the driver’s seat, reached into the back, and dragged them out by the jackets, setting them on the sidewalk before he locked the car doors. “Go on, try candle-dipping or something. Museum’s free entry if that’s your style. Half an hour.”

“Half an hour,” Stan grumbled and scuffed his shoe against the pavement.

Dipper smiled and patted them both on the head before walking off, leaving Stan and Ford surrounded by covered wagons and people being silly in costumes. It was so uncool.

“... wanna get some old-timey butterscotch?” Stan shrugged.

“Yeah, okay. I still think everyone’s using fabric that’s way too modern- that lady’s got a zipper showing, for crying out loud.”

Ford picked up Stanley’s discarded butterscotch wrappers as he followed his twin, his own pockets full of candy. Stanley kept opening the butterscotch wrappers with his teeth instead of just getting Ford to do it or doing it one-handed. He was so strange sometimes.

“Nope, this whole thing is still lame,” Stan announced after they did a circuit of the main activities.

“Yep,” Ford agreed without hesitation. “I don’t think the pioneers should be celebrated very much either, I researched the Donner party.”

“Ugh. I remember you telling me about that. And you think I’ve seen gross things.”

“You told me you once saw a seagull get stuck in the freshwater taffy.”

“And it was one of the greatest things I’d ever seen.”

“Ewwwwww,” Ford laughed and had more butterscotch. “Wonder what that crowd’s about?”

“Let’s go see.” Stan thumped his shoulder, Ford giggling and returning the favour. Not to the arm in the cast, obviously, but the rest of Stanley was totally fine.

They darted through to the front of the crowd, arriving at a stage in front of a stone statue of a guy who Ford felt had a very punchable face. A man sat in a chair in front of the statue with a creepy grin, and a kid with dark hair walked up to the microphone in a fur hat and suit that was obviously English Victorian- not Western Frontier.

The kid reached up to the microphone stand and lowered it, tapping it a few times to make that awful feedback sound before he spoke. “Hello, everyone. I’m Preston Northwest, richest nine-year-old in Gravity Falls, and also great-great-grandson of our town founder. Go Northwests! We’re super rich and fancy!”

The crowd clapped and Ford shared a look with Stan. “He talks a little like the-”

“Sibling brothers, yep.” Stan scowled. “Snooty.”

“Wait-” there was something important about the name ‘Preston Northwest’. “Isn’t this one of Grunkle Dipper’s enemies?”

“Maybe?” Stan chewed his butterscotch seriously. “Why do people like him bragging about being rich?”

“Do you have the Pioneer spirit?” Preston’s eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Ford and Stan. Ford immediately shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his six fingers. He hoped he did it fast enough.

Preston scowled, nose wrinkling in disgust. It was a common expression aimed at the Pines twins. “Uh- you guys don’t have any Pioneer spirit. Where’s your costumes?”

The entire crowd shifted to look at them and Ford stared directly at the ground. Why were they at the front? That was where people were noticed.

“I dunno, why are you wearing a dead rat on your head?” Stan pointed.

“Uh. It’s a raccoon, duh. And it’s because I’ve got Pioneer Day spirit.” Preston sniffed, looking down his nose. “You clearly don’t. Who are you?”

“We’re the Pines twins.” Stan raised his chin defiantly, Ford keeping an eye on him, the crowd, this kid. He hated how this kid looked at them, like they were dirt on his shoe. Ford was a genius, and Stanley was- well, Stanley. Everyone kept treating them like nothing when they weren’t, they weren’t.

“Pines twins.” Preston growled. “Ugh. Whatever, you’re not even invited anyway to Pioneer day. You’re not Gravity Falls people.”

“So what?” Stan snapped back, already getting angry. Ford gritted his teeth, matching his brother’s temper. How dare this kid say that? When Gravity Falls was the first place Ford felt like he truly belonged?

“Your kind don’t belong here, dummies.” Preston scoffed.

“ Our kind?” Stan took a step forward and Ford grabbed his elbow. As great as it would be to see Stanley punch this smug lil kid’s face in, he was also aware that was a bad look.

“Stanley, let’s just go.” Ford looked around, pretty sure the crowd was not on their side. Unlike the freak show, there was no way showing his hands would suddenly get this crowd on his side. They were pretending uggs were historically accurate, for pete’s sake. “We’re going fishing. Who needs Pioneer spirit?”

Stan looked back, tense and ready to fight. He huffed, reaching into his vest and turning his glare on Preston. “Congrats on being special because of some dead guy. Smokebomb!”

They darted into the crowd the moment the plume of smoke appeared, running out the other side and running away until they’d rounded a building.

“They’re not very good pioneers anyway,” Ford patted his brother’s shoulder, trying to bite back his own anger at losing that confrontation. He may have been used to losing against bullies, but that didn’t mean he liked it. It made him feel small and his brain was too big for that. He was smarter than Crampelter and his goons, smarter than this kid, they should have realised that meant something.

“Yeah.” Stan scowled and kicked a rock on the ground. “Ford, would it be wrong to beat up a snotty nine-year-old?”

“Rational, that sounds like a rational course of action. But not in front of a crowd, okay?”

“You’re a bit anachronistic.”

Dipper barely kept himself from fumbling the fishing supplies in his arms as he turned, rods, bait and tackle box, and a few other things precariously balancing. He looked at the woman, strands of silver-white glinting throughout her platinum blonde hair. She lifted her sunglasses to fix him with her usual judginess. “Fishing season started weeks ago. It’s practically retro now.”

“Pacifica.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not at Pioneer day?”

“No, Preston’s doing the usual Northwest ceremony.” She checked her painted nails, leaning against her car. She looked far too modern for the town holiday. “He’s very excited.”

“Giving the speech with his dad?” Dipper knew exactly what minefield he was stepping into, but he’d never been anything but blunt with Pacifica in his life, and he wasn’t going to start dancing around issues now.

“Of course, Paxton’s an honorary Northwest, after all. It turns out we had a very interesting marriage contract.”

“That bad?” Dipper walked over and set his newly-gotten fishing stuff on the hood of her car, leaning against the vehicle beside her.

“Split custody, he’s getting the mansion, the split of other financial assets is also stacked in his favour,” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “All in legal terms that would go over even your big head.”

“I’ve made it my mission in life to never return to a court of law,” Dipper shrugged, tucking his hands in the pockets of his overalls. “Why go through with it if you’re losing so much?”

She glanced at him, arching a brow. Probably tinted, or sculpted, or whatever people did with their brows. She’d aged more gracefully then he did, sure, but no one made it past forty without a little wear and tear. “You owe me a drink before I start answering those types of questions.”

“Yeah, do you want to start at the Skull Fracture or will we skip straight to Gnasty’s?”

“I’m not going back to that gnome bar.” The look she gave him could have deep-frozen a mountain lion.

“You’re no fun anymore, Paz.” He grinned at her, long immune.

“You’ve never been fun in your life.”

“Oh-ho, ouch.”

“I’ll be getting you to throw up your anti-ghost wards on my new house once I’ve had my stuff moved in, by the way.”

“Can do. You’re staying in town?” His grin fell. Was she sure that was a good idea?

“Is that an actual question?” She scoffed. “It’s my town.”

“But the recurring bouts of amnesia- we still don’t know what’s causing them, but we know they’re localised to the town and being in the town itself heightens the risk of possible forgetfulness-”

“Are you still talking about that? It makes you sound like an insane conspiracy theorist. Like you have a corkboard and string.” She studied him. “You do, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering that question.” He had multiple. One for each theory.

“If you’re so worried about your memories, why are you in town?” She looked him over. “And making such a fashion statement.”

“Uh- family fun day?”

“That sounds like a nightmare, don’t tell me you’ve got a checklist again.”

“Checklists are extremely efficient!”

“The last time I saw you use a checklist you ended up fighting twenty of yourself and ruined Preston’s birthday party.” She pulled out a hand mirror, checking her reflection. Dipper was sorely tempted to poke the surface, just to leave a smudge. But no, he’d like to keep his hand attached to his wrist, he was quite fond of it where it was.

“That was unintentional.” He was pretty sure that kid really hated him. Hated his shins, at least, Preston had a surprisingly sharp kick.

“Whatever.” She glanced at him. “How’s your crafts project?”

“Won’t get much further without the other books in the series.” He slipped into the basic code they used, nothing like backwards talk but she refused to go along with that. No fun at all. “Still can’t find them at the local library.”

“Pity.” Pacifica sighed and pulled her sunglasses on. “And your ex-roommate?”

“He can’t evict me anymore.” Dipper placed a hand over the binding sigil hidden in his tattoos, meant to lock his spirit inside his body so Bill couldn’t pull him out into the mindscape. “I’ve got it sorted.”

“I remember the last time you said that.” She huffed and tossed her hair like a show-off. “You better be right this time.”

He chuckled and picked up the fishing gear. “C’mon, Paz. When am I ever?”

Stan hopped out of the truck, carefully parked in the woods around the lake rather than near the shore. Also not near the parking area by the pier. “What’s the plan?”

“You kids are gonna go into the building by the pier and be a great distraction, then meet me back here. It’s out of sight, so that should keep you guys from also getting banned.”

“Are you sure stealing a boat is the most logical course of action?” Ford hesitated before he took his jacket off and placed it under the car seat. Good idea. Stan did the same, only worrying about one sleeve since he was hiding the cast a bit, arm still in a sling. He didn’t want his smokebombs getting wet.

“Stealing sounds fun to me, Sixer,” Stanley grinned and reached over the seats, messing up Ford’s hair. Ford laughed and batted his hand away.

“Get off, you knucklehead.”

There was the sound of paper flicking. Stan turned to see Dipper with a long list that unfurled in his hand.

“Alright. You kids go first, try to be distracting for twenty minutes, set a watch or something, then bail. Got it?”

“I hope Fiddleford’s in there,” Ford smiled and clicked a button on his watch. “I wanna tell him about Gideon and the carnival.”

“I’m gonna ask if the lake water’s drinkable!” He said it for the disgusted look Ford shot him.

“It’s not. Try asking about what to avoid, Tate’ll give you the whole spiel. Bubbles and all.” Dipper folded up his list again, tucking it in his overalls. “Ready for an adventure?”

Stan held out his good fist. “Ford, get your hand in here, we're gonna do a thing.”

“But we already have a high six-”

“A thing with Grunkle Dipper. Fists in.”

Dipper smiled bemusedly and did as told, leaning down to make it easier. Stan placed his fist on top. “Ford, complete the tower!”

“You’re really insistent about the weirdest stuff.” Ford rolled his eyes and did it anyway.

“Three, two, one-” Stan stole from the school sports teams back home, especially the one Shermie was on. Stan never had the knack for that team sport stuff, even though he liked watching other people do it. “Pines!”

Dipper followed Stan’s gesture with a grin. “That’s catchy.”

“It seems redundant but alright. I guess if we’re all scheming together we should have a thing?” Ford looked at his hand, wiggling his fingers.

“Meet you back here, you rascals.” Dipper messed up their hair before he disappeared into the trees. Stan watched him go. He had to teach Stan how to pull a vanishing act like that, it was like something in a movie- like when people turned around and the killer suddenly wasn’t there. Super cool.

“So the amulet’s broken now? Forever?” Fiddleford clarified. Ford wondered why he’d gotten so pale during Ford’s recounting of the previous night. It was a pretty sunny and nice day, after all.

“Yep. Too bad, I wanted to study it a bit, take some notes,” Ford sighed. Fiddleford gently patted his shoulder, which was nice too. It was amazing to have a good friend who could really keep up with him when he talked about science. He loved Stanley, but sometimes having to dial down what he was saying into layman’s terms was annoying.

“Well, I mean, if it was so obviously evil, probably a fine thing you didn’t get the chance,” Fiddleford tried to cheer him up. “Do you and your brother want some sunhats? It’ll keep the sunburn off you.”

“Uh…” Ford did remember how painful sunburn could be. “Yes please. We don’t have much money though, we got a lot of butterscotch. Want some?”

“Well I would not say no to that!” Fiddleford smiled brightly and hopped the shop counter. “Let me nab those hats first.”

“Thanks.” Ford glanced over at Stanley, in the middle of bombarding Fiddleford’s dad with endless questions about the lake, but specifically weird distracting ones that weren’t easy to answer, like ‘have you ever personally drank the lake water’ or ‘could I fish using my foot as bait’. Weird stuff like that. Nothing all that useful, but maybe he would get some indication of supernatural occurrences they could investigate?

“It’s real nice having you drop by,” Fiddleford hummed as he sorted through the various fishing hats, limbs contorting with disturbing ease as he scuttled up shelves exactly like a possum. “I’ve been darn well bored stupid out here, I think the only reason my pops wants me to sit here behind the counter is so I can’t make any horrifying robots.”

“It does seem pretty quiet here. I guess it's more popular when it’s not Pioneer Day?” Ford felt a bit guilty about being a distraction now.

“I mean- first day of fishin’ season was a bit busy, but it’s a small town, not really anyone looking for anything they don’t already have.”

“But… is it nice spending time with your dad?” Ford tried to be positive. Mr Tate didn’t seem all that scary, not like Ford’s Pa.

Fiddleford set down two hats and gave Ford the driest look he’d ever been on the receiving end of, even after thirteen years sharing a room with Stanley. “This here’s the most I’ve heard him talk since I got here.”

“Oh…” Ford blushed a little in embarrassment as he tugged on the hat, looking down at the ground in hopes it might eat him. Or spontaneously turn into a second bottomless pit, even though that was by definition impossible. Maybe. Possibly. Could Grunkle Dipper let him do some tests?

“Yep.” Fiddleford popped the P. “Don’t you worry none ‘bout that though, that’s my business.”

“Okay.” Ford was very grateful for that. But maybe- “we’re planning on exploring around the lake. Do you want to come?”

“I’d rather not be goin’ near that lake, on account of that terribibibble-” Fiddleford stumbled over the word and shook his head, looking a little annoyed, “ terrible shape I saw beneath the water. Long as a bus, I dare say.”

“... Would you happen to remember where exactly and could you mark it on a map?” Ford tried.

Fiddleford sighed and reached for a pamphlet. “Don’t do anything reckless, Stanford. And don’t show me whatever you fish up, I’d rather sleep at night, thank you kindly.”

“I’ll credit you as a key element of the discovery when I submit my evidence to all my favourite science journals!” Ford promised excitedly before the door to Mr Tate’s boat rental shop slammed open. Ford whirled, back pressed to the counter as he stared at the entrant. Blinked twice. What? “Who is that?”

“Oh no.” Fiddleford sucked air in his teeth. “Miss Chiu, I’m sorry, but you’ve been banned from this location!”

“Candy saw something in the woods!” The woman was short and hunched, her hair shock white and tangled, falling over half her wizened face, a frumpled, ragged sweater hung off her, so covered in moss and muck he couldn’t tell the colour or pattern it used to have. Her feet left mud tracks on the wood, tattered skirt held together by bandaids and mismatched stitching. She had forks bandaged to every finger on her right hand as she gestured excitedly. “I have seen the doppelgangers again! They’re gathering!”

“Hey!” Mr Tate pulled a spray bottle out of somewhere. “I told you to get away from the lake, you’ll scare the customers.”

“Dad, you can’t spray bottle her, she’s just an old lady.” Fiddleford gracefully hopped the counter and blocked his dad, hands raised to show his hands were empty. “Miss Chiu- do you need us to call someone for you?”

“I am a Mrs now.” She beamed and pulled an actual, honest-to-goodness fox out of her hair. “He will make me a happy wife.”

“... Congratulations?”

Stan joined Ford at the counter and picked at his teeth with his good hand. “I think they need to call someone , definitely. Maybe the nuthouse.”

“Stanley, that’s rude.” Ford chided. What did she say? Something about doppelgangers?

“Lady, I need you to get away from my boathouse.” Mr Tate loomed behind his son. “You’ve been banned from the lake ever since you released boat-eating fungus into my shed.”

“My experiments require feeding.” The old lady- Candy- barely looked at them, her attention instead caught by the trail mix bags by the door. She drove her forks into one of the small bags, lifting it up and spilling mix everywhere. “Sustenance for Candy. And husband.”

The fox shoved under her arm stared at Ford with the most resigned expression he’d ever seen on a human or animal. He felt really bad for it.

“Out!” Tate raised the spray bottle threateningly. “Go back to your dump, you old hag!”

“Pa!” Fiddleford snapped back. Wasn’t he scared? Why would he do that? “Stanley, Stanford, will you help me escort uh- Mrs Chiu outside? Mrs Chiu, why don’t you walk with me and tell me about these- er, doppelygangers.”

“I will explain in excessive and horrific detail.”

“Yep!” Ford wanted to ask about the doppelgangers. “C’mon, Stanley. Also- I got us hats.”

“I didn’t agree to be volunteered for this.” Stan sighed and followed anyway as Fiddleford managed to bustle the old lady outside without touching the fox. Ford risked a glance at Fiddleford’s dad, expecting the glower that spoke of an oncoming explosion, but he’d just gone back to sorting out the tackle boxes. Strange.

“I see them in a clearing, all with the same face,” Old Lady Chiu was gesturing animatedly, occasionally stopping to shove trail mix in her mouth, some of her teeth chipped and missing. “They are plotting great doom! There’s a blackboard with a many-stepped plan and they wear stupid hats marked with numbers. In four years they have not aged!”

“That sounds mighty creepifying, I reckon,” Fiddleford informed her bluntly as he managed to get her moving in the direction of the road back to town. “Maybe you should go tell the sheriff?”

“Yes, yes, Candy should. Grenda is… who is Grenda?” She reached up with her forks in a motion Ford recognised, and adjusted glasses that weren’t there. He felt an instinctive need to adjust his own, seeing the familiar movement. “Never mind! You should visit! I will let you assist in building death ray.”

“... I will- I will consider that. As an option.” Fiddleford gave her a nudge. “Please don’t come back? My pa’s really not happy with you.”

“But Candy is adorable!” She shoved the fox back into her hair as it stared at Ford. Its eyes screamed ‘help’ before it disappeared into the snowy white tangles.

“Yeah… I reckon Pa wouldn’t know adorable if it hopped up and bit him in the backside. Off you go, now, stay safe.”

Old Lady Chiu patted Fiddleford’s face with a smile, leaving a muddy handprint, and scampered into the woods. Ford felt like an observer, the same way he did reading the diary, or watching kids at school having fun and making friends. Something he wasn’t probably meant to be part of, but he knew it happened anyway.

“Well, that was random and made no sense.” Stan leaned his elbow on Ford’s shoulder. “Hey Ford, has it been twenty minutes yet?”

“You know her, Fiddleford? Has she mentioned doppelgangers before?” Maybe they should call off fishing day?

“Why were you so nice to her?” Stan’s nose crinkled. “She seemed sorta-” he pulled away from Ford, made a circle by his temple, and whistled.

Fiddleford’s shoulders straightened and the look on his face was stern, hard in a way Ford hadn’t seen. He’d seen Fiddleford excited, he’d seen him bored and glum talking about his dad, and he’d seen him scared, but he hadn’t seen Fiddleford look mad .

“She’s a harmless old lady, that’s all.” Fiddleford glared at Stan, his accent gone from silly to sharp. “Not her fault her mind’s goin’ a bit. Least I can do is be nice to her, no one else in this darn unfriendly town is. So you mind your goshdarned manners.”

“Whoa, okay. Touched a nerve.” Stan put his hand in his pocket. “Who is she?”

Fiddleford scratched at the muddy handprint on his face. “I don’t rightly know. But I know she’s not meaning any harm. Just because someone’s a bit messy and don’t recall everything the right way, doesn’t mean they ain’t deservin’ of a bit of compassion.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I called her a nutjob,” Stan rolled his eyes. “What did she mean ‘doppelgangers’?”

“I wouldn’t put stock in it. She says a lot of things.” Fiddleford shrugged and trudged back to the boathouse.

There was a yell inside of ‘where did my boat go?!’, and Ford winced while Stanley ignored ir. Looked like Grunkle Dipper was as good at boat theft as he said.

Fiddleford didn’t notice the guilt on Ford’s face, taking his glasses off and cleaning the lenses with the edge of his sleeve. “Thanks for droppin’ by, Stanford. Stanley. Hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“Leaving?” Stan asked as Fiddleford stepped inside, finally accepting his hat from Ford and fitting it on. They both remembered how painful sunburn could be.

“Leaving.” Ford agreed as they ran into the woods towards where Dipper had parked, out of view of the little shore and the pier that acted as the lake’s only dock. Sorry, Fiddleford, but the hats weren’t that important. Not when Ford had the map. “Do you think we could look for the doppelgangers?”

“Can it wait? We’re fishing, right?” Stanley huffed out as they raced, shoes pounding on the forest floor.

“Well- I mean, we’re monster hunting. Fishing is an extra, Grunkle Dipper’s going to show us supernatural stuff now, since he stopped lying.”

“But we’re fishing.” Stanley stopped running, forcing Ford to do the same if he wanted to continue the conversation.

“Stanley, fishing’s fun,” when something was caught, “but Gravity Falls is full of real anomalies. Fiddleford’s lake monster, these doppelgangers, we have to investigate them.”

“Can you investigate the lake monster while we’re fishing?” Stan fidgeted with the brim of his hat.

“Well- I suppose, but I mean, it’s not that efficient, and it would distract Grunkle Dipper,” Ford hesitated before he confessed, knowing Stanley would understand. He always understood. “Fishing’s not that fun anyway...”

“You’re just saying that because you’re bad at it and got a hook stuck in your hand.”

“It really hurt!” Ford’s cheeks grew hot as Stanley made fun of him. Why would Stanley say he was bad at it? Why didn't he understand? “I’m not bad- I just don’t like it!”

“Ford!” Stanley glared at him. “Why do you not like things that are fun?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ford stared at him, brows furrowing. He was always so hot-headed, Ford never knew why .

“Whatever, nerd.” Stanley scoffed and stomped by, his shoulder knocking against Ford’s.

“Why are you always so boneheaded!” Ford snapped at him as Stanley broke into a run, because really, this was illogical. Fishing was circumstantial fun where the circumstances were rare. It was a gambling game, an old man hobby, except the old man they were currently accompanying didn’t even do it. That made it a Granpa hobby.

Monster hunting, now that was much better. That was Ford’s dream.

Ford took a second to take a breath and focus on what was important. Doppelgangers in the woods with numbered hats, a giant shape in the lake marked on a map, a million other anomalies just waiting for him to discover. Why did Stan get angry so easily? It was rash, Ford wished he was better at not getting mad himself. He was supposed to be the logical one. Short tempers had no place in an intellectual mind.

He looked out over the lake, placid and serene, but with fog gathered around the island in the middle. That looked like a perfect place to find anomalies! So many options, he could spend all day just chasing leads.

But he needed a boat for that, and the diary. Stanley had probably calmed down by now, Ford hated fighting, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong. Stanley was just being weird again.

If Stan had to hear one more ‘can we go to that mysterious island’ outta his twin he might actually shove Ford overboard. Just a little bit.

“You mean Scuttlebutt Island?” Dipper deliberately enunciated the name as he pushed the tiller, steering them to the far side of the lake and away from the boat house.

“Butt Island.” Stan repeated, but he didn’t really feel the humour meant to come with something so funny.

“I’m not calling it that.” Ford huffed.

“Yeah, ‘course not.” Did he think he was better than them or something? Because of his mysteries? Better than doing something fun with family? Stan wanted to show Grunkle Dipper he was good at things that wasn’t just being a delinquent, couldn’t the monster hunt wait one day?

“Trust me, kid, there’s nothing on Scuttlebutt Island but some really cute beavers. Soos and I scoped the whole place once, he took a ton of pictures.” Dipper reached into his jacket and pulled out a polaroid.

Stan perked up at the sight. “Wow, beaver with a chainsaw. That’s the greatest thing I ever saw, and I once saw a cockroach-”

“Please don’t mention the cockroach,” Ford cut him off before he studied Grunkle Dipper. “You just keep this picture? All the time?”

“Yeah… I was sort of insane that day. Convinced that I heard the Gobblewonker roar.” Dipper bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “But it was just this lil guy.”

“Gobblewonker?” Ford turned his whole attention to Grunkle Dipper. “Is that a lake monster?”

“Yeah, but trust me, if I haven’t found it, it ain’t in this lake. There is a giant nocturnal boat-eating head, but there’s no Gobblewonker.” Dipper smiled at the beaver picture, tucking it back into a pocket. Stan swore he caught a glimpse of other polaroids in there. “That’s what the beaver picture is for, a reminder that not every weird thing is an anomaly. Stuff just happens sometimes.”

“But Fiddleford says he saw something!” Ford pulled a pamphlet out and pointed at a marked section. “Right here! It’s even on the far side of the lake, please?”

“Well…” Dipper’s face scrunched a bit, the lines in his skin deepening.

“Can we just pick somewhere and fish?” Stanley kicked the side of the boat. “We gotta stay still when we do. Go to the stupid monster spot, I don't care.”

“It’s not stupid!” Ford shoved him. “Why are you being so mean?!”

Stanley got ready to shove him back before Grunkle Dipper intervened. Again. Like yesterday at the carnival.

“Guys, guys, this is family fun day,” Dipper held them both by the shoulder, hand scrunching on the life jackets. “You’ve been getting along great since you got here, now two fights in two days? What’s going on?”

“Is this because of fishing?” Ford scowled. “Stanley, there are more important things then that-”

“It’s important to me!” Stanley snapped at him. “I thought it was important to you too but you’ve not shut up about anomalies ever since Chiu mentioned the doppelgangers!”

“Doppelgangers…?” Dipper echoed quietly.

Stan continued, ignoring Dipper. “You were gonna run off into the woods on the word of some crazy old bat and ditch me!”

“Stanley, you’re allowed to come on my anomaly hunts-” Ford adjusted his glasses and he wasn’t getting it . Stan wanted to tip over the whole boat.

“I want to go fishing!”

“Why?!”

“Because it’s something I’m better at than you!”

Ford just stared at him. Stan sat with the snapped-out words just a moment longer before he felt an awful knot of guilt in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to say that. He wasn’t supposed to think that.

He was the spare Stan, he was meant to be proud his brother was so amazing- he was- so why was he saying it like it wasn’t the best thing ever? Toughen up, Stanley. Be a better twin. Do it for family.

Ford shoved him overboard.

The splash was loud enough that Dipper managed to shake his head clear of the memories of such a similar fight- history really did repeat, didn’t it- and leaned over the edge, scanning the water. Up bobbed Stanley, buoyed by his lifejacket. Dipper reached out a hand, keeping one braced on the boat’s edge.

“Stanley, here-” he gripped the kid by the jacket, helping pull him up. The silence behind him shattered as Ford seemed to finish processing.

“Ohmygosh Stanley I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I- are you okay?!”

Ford might not have known why he did it, but Dipper could make a guess.

He remembered the fit he threw when Mabel got taller first, he hadn’t understood why she’d been so harsh about it, he thought she was the one who was good at everything he wanted, and the fight had brought down the house. He had been a raging bundle of insecurity back then, one poke and out came the venom.

It was afterwards when Mabel handed him their games tally he’d finally understood, just a little bit. They were both jealous of each other for stupid reasons, in the end. She was fearless and he was nervous, he was tactical while she was impulsive. Different strengths for different scenarios, who even cared about how many chess games he could win?

Wouldn’t it be great if he could keep these kids from making his mistakes?

He got Stan out of the water and reached for the towel, wrapping it around the kid’s shoulders. He hoped the cast wasn’t gonna be damaged by a dunk in the lake. Stan batted at his hands, hackles up. Made sense, kid had a proud streak. “I’m fine , Dipper. I’m no weenie, I can take a dunking.”

“Stanley?” Ford asked hesitantly, and Dipper sat back, figuring that it might be best to let the kids talk it out. Preferably with no more shoving, why were these kids so pushy to each other sometimes? Had he and Mabel been like that?

Maybe they had. After all, shoving his twin through a portal had to come from somewhere, right?

Ford was wringing his hands together, polydactyly lacing and unlacing. “I… I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Eh, I was thinking about pushing you overboard lots,” Stan shrugged, and then he smiled. It was big and bright and Dipper thought it would remind him of Mabel, because there was so much of his twin in these kids, but no. Mabel’s smiles were real in a way this wasn’t. This smile was a lie. Stan still wore it. “Since you were being all nerdy about monster hunting.”

“... Sorry?” Ford fidgeted. “... Do you not like monster hunting?”

“I didn’t say that.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Sweet Moses, Sixer, I like the monster hunts. Don’t worry.”

“Then why are you so focused on fishing? And…” Ford shifted nervously. “Why did you say that you being better at it matters?”

Dipper rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together in front of his mouth as a less-obvious method of clamping them over his mouth. The answer seemed obvious from someone who lived it, but if he just told them they’d roll their eyes and say ‘whatever, oldtimer’ or whatever teenagers did nowadays.

“Dunno.” Stan looked away. “It was a dumb thing to say.”

“Then why’d you say it?” Ford’s tone got sharper, more desperate. They were both so quick to anger. Dipper wondered if that was from Filbrick, not that Dipper knew anything about him beyond being his one and only nephew. It had to be Filbrick, or Caryn, right? Their grandpa had been the most relaxed older brother Dipper could have asked for. Mabel’s anger was deep and hidden, as long as a crush wasn’t involved. Dipper knew he wasn’t exactly a gentle soul, but these kids flared up so quick, their fuses were so short. Maybe it was just them, but even then…

Was Jersey really that much of a nightmare to grow up in?

“Why do you want to be better at me?” Ford leaned forward, hands pressed together in his lap.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.” Stanley deflected. What had gone on in his head, that he’d switched so quickly on a dime?

“You’re not stupid!” Ford pleaded. “Just say something.”

Okay, maybe Dipper could intervene a little bit. Tiny bit. Just a nudge. “You know- when I was growing up I was convinced your Granpa was better than me at everything. Maths, sports, you name it.” Mabel was good at everything Dipper wasn’t. Art, friendships, having people actually like her…

They both stared at him. Ford blinked first. “And?”

Dipper shrugged unhelpfully. “End of story. It’s a choose-your-own-message thing. Do you want me to look away and cover my ears now, let you have your moment?”

The mirrored unamused expressions were kinda funny, even if this was not a laughing moment. Dipper still covered his ears, pretending he wasn’t paying attention. It was a bit awkward to be in the middle of a sibling fight in a small space, he finally had sympathy for his parents during Pines Family Road Trips. Three kids jammed in the back, vying for space, legroom, control of the music, who could look out the window. He remembered elbows jammed in ribs and all three of them fighting like wild animals until dad threatened to turn the car around.

Family was such a pain sometimes. He missed it.

Stan was the one who scoffed and broke the silence this time. Ford bit his tongue to keep himself from bubbling over, mind whirling with a million things to say. Why did he push him? How could he push his brother off a boat? Why did Stanley say he wanted to do the same, what was wrong with them?

“I’m not jealous or anything lame like that. Don’t go thinking something stupid like that, okay?” Stanley started off, glancing at Grunkle Dipper. Ford also wished their Grunkle was not there momentarily, why did they have to do this on a tiny boat?

Focus, Ford. The real problem was there, and he could solve it, he just had to identify it. “Then why?”

“I just wanted to…” Stan looked away. “I’m not a screw-up at everything , alright?”

Oh. Ford remembered in the Jersey Devil’s lair, how Stanley had tried so hard to do something nice for dad and ruined it. It was an accident, but it still cost them a summer. It wasn’t bad, being inside all the time, certainly better than having to dodge Crampelter and his goons, but… “Do you think you’re a screw-up?”

But why? Stanley wasn’t- well, he wasn’t as smart as Ford, but nobody was, really, so that wasn’t his fault. Stanley was good at other stuff! Like- like punching! And lying! And reading people!

And… fishing too, he supposed.

“You’re not a screw-up,” Ford repeated, trying to make Stanley believe it. “Is that why you want to show Grunkle Dipper how to fish?”

“You can do your monster hunting any time.” Stan mumbled, Ford straining to hear. “All summer. But we can’t get a boat every day. Not like home.”

“Yeah…” Ford knew exactly what he meant. A beach of sand and glass shards, and their perfect treasure, found by them, all theirs. They’d pushed it back into the secret cove and boarded it back up the moment they could, in the scant time before Shermie announced they were going to Gravity Falls and getting packed onto a bus. “It’s no Stan O’ War, is it?”

“Yeah.” Stan looked at him and smiled. Was it real? Ford couldn’t tell. He hoped so. “I mean- where’s the sail? I like that sail.”

“Me too.” Ford liked feeling like a dashing adventurer.

“Speedboats aren’t very adventure-y,” Stan kept going, and Ford hoped this meant things were okay again. “Fighting a monster in this seems boring.”

“True, having a sail and a steering wheel is more suitably dramatic.” Ford smiled a bit brighter, hoping his contribution was acceptable. Was that it? All fixed?

Maybe… Maybe he should make a concession. “I don’t dislike fishing.”

He had all of Stan’s attention now. Stan was very good at focusing on someone. “You said-”

“I was… I guess we both said stuff we didn’t mean?’ Ford tried. “We can… we can look for the Gobblewonker tomorrow? And the doppelgangers?” It felt like a waste of time, but… he shoved his brother overboard, he probably owed him something.

Stanley’s eyes shone. “Really?”

Ford nodded once, unprepared for Stanley to tackle him in a hug and drench him to the bone. It was freezing.

Ford cautiously hugged him back and waved at Grunkle Dipper. “You can listen again.”

Dipper pulled his fingers from his ears. “If I could have gone to stand over there-” he gestured in a vague direction, “I would have.”

That would have made things less awkward. “Tomorrow can we go monster hunting? Today we’re teaching you how to fish.”

Dipper smiled and it looked like he was… proud. But why? For what reason? Could Ford recreate that?

Stanley let go of Ford and he looked happy again. Was it so easy to do that, all this time? Why did it matter so much to him?

“Grunkle Dipper, welcome to the Stan Pines Super Fishing School College!"

“Saying school and college feels repetitive,” Ford pointed out, unable to help himself.

“Shh, I’m teaching.”

Ford woke up in the middle of the night, looking around the room he and Stanley shared. Something didn’t feel right. Stanley wasn’t in his bed and Gompers wasn’t sleeping on the floor.

He reached for his glasses before he realised he had them on- did he fall asleep wearing them again?

Blue and purple light shone in through the closed window and a jolt of familiarity hit him. Oh, this was another of those dreams. Okay.

He always seemed to forget them until they happened again.

He hopped out of bed and reached for the window, the words ‘it is polite to knock’ echoing in his head for a moment.

Knock, knock on the window glass, the lines of a triangle etched into the panes, and the window opened, the milky way looking so much closer then it was supposed to. Ford grinned excitedly.

He climbed out the window to see the usual staircase of books leading up into the starry sky, colours that only existed in illustrations and not in the real night sky.

Up the pathway of floating tomes he climbed, until the ground disappeared and he was left surrounded by the vast cosmos, infinite and mysterious. One day, he was going to explore every inch of it.

And at the top there waited a friend.

“Hiya, Sixer!”

“Hello, Mr Cipher,” Ford smiled excitedly, stepping off the last book and into zero gravity, floating. It was so cool, these dreams were really fun. It was nice to not have nightmares about going to school with no pants on, or about Cathy screaming at him in third grade.

“Ready to pick up where we left off?” Mr Cipher snapped his fingers and a chessboard appeared, the pieces placed just as Ford remembered them. “How about some space tea?!”

“I’d love some,” Ford smiled and accepted the cup as it appeared, the liquid inside full of swirling nebulas. It was like someone poured glitter into blackcurrant juice, and tasted just like it but even sweeter.

He took a sip and stared at the board, waiting for Mr Cipher to make his next move. Mr Cipher’s hand hovered over the pieces before settling on his white bishop.

“You know it was pretty selfless what you did today,” Mr Cipher commented, sliding the bishop three spaces along the board. “Letting your brother take over for a bit.”

“I mean-” Ford hesitated as he stared at the board. Hm. Rook or Knight? “It wasn’t that bad. It was fun. We even caught a carp." A boring normal carp, sure, but still a fish.

“Sure, but it was still nice of you to make your brother happy. You do that a lot, sacrifice your dreams for him. You think he appreciates it?”

“Of course he does!” Ford knew Stanley would do anything for him. “I don’t sacrifice things. Do I?”

“I’m just saying, kid, I bet someone as genius as you could have found the doppelgangers and the Gobblewonker in one day if you didn’t have to worry about him.”

“Well, yes, obviously- but it wouldn’t be fun if Stanley wasn’t there, you know?” Ford made his decision, moving his rook backwards to cover his queen. “We’re monster hunters together.”

“Like I said, you’re a real selfless kid.” Mr Cipher shifted a pawn forward. “I bet your great uncle thinks so too. He’s a weird guy, right?”

“He’s not so bad. Now that he’s not lying, at least.” Ford scanned the board as he thought five moves ahead. “Hey, why don’t I ever remember these dreams until they show up?”

“I dunno, Sixer! I’m just a figment of your subconscious!” Mr Cipher reminded him. “This is all in your head, so you should know!”

“I know, I…” he thought it over, hand dithering over his pieces. “Maybe it's just… happy dreams are harder to remember?”

“That sounds right to me, kid! Man, we’re a smart brain!”

“Can’t deny that.” Ford grinned as he made his move, placing his knight in position to take that pawn Bill had moved. Next turn, he’d make his move. “It’s still a little weird that a part of my subconscious is so aware. I’ve never read about anything like that.”

“We’ve never read about how other genius-level intellects dream!” Bill moved a different pawn. “Playing chess with yourself is a tried-and-true method of improving your skill!”

“That’s true.” Ford took Bill’s pawn with a smile, adding it to the small collection on his side of the board. “And that piece is mine too.”

“Great move, kid!” Bill tipped his black top hat. “You’ve really got me on the ropes here!”

“Well, guess you’ll have to find an opening,” Ford smiled graciously as he picked up his tea cup from where it was floating. He almost had Mr Cipher in check.

“Guess I will!” Mr Cipher laughed, high and screechy. Ford laughed with him, holding his tea cup, books and some of his favourite things floating gently around him.

It was a nice dream. Sometimes it was a shame he had to wake up.

#Gravity Falls #Dipper Pines #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Bill Cipher #relativity falls AU but Mabel is the author #gf #slowly the plot outline in my mind is building

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strwberri-milk · 2 days ago

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Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 16

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

The next week passes by almost as though it were any other week. You know, if you ignored the fact that Boothill’s sweet words for you somehow increased tenfold. Not only that, but he was getting even bolder with his touches for you, stealing you away for a chaste kiss if a ranch hand turned a corner or crowding you against the kitchen counter as he told you he wanted a quick snack before you got dinner prepared.

The two of you were enjoying a quiet evening, Boothill managing to have pulled you into his lap after you ran away from him insistently. His face is buried in your neck, peppering light kisses as you laugh at the ticklish sensation, feeling the smile pressed against your skin.

“Boothill, quit it! It tickles!” you laugh, holding his hand tightly as you allow yourself to truly relax.

“Why should I? You make such lovely noises when I kiss ya here, or here - and oh, don’t forget about that.”

He nips a spot against your neck quickly, darkening a mark he left possessively as you watch the sun come down.

You loved being able to just enjoy his presence, glad that he wasn’t pressuring you into making things official. For the most part he kept it private, not even telling the others that the two of you are sort of dating. You hadn’t really talked to him about what the two of you were but whatever it was it definitely did not feel casual in the least. You also didn’t want it to be casual, but confronting labels head on when you didn’t even know what your future looked like felt like you were jumping the gun.

“We should get inside soon. It’s going to get cold,” you mutter softly, turning your head to nuzzle against his cheek.

“If it gets cold I’ll just warm you up. You like that, don’t you?” he purrs, holding you tighter to his body.

Your body flushes at the reminder of what he’s talking about, stiffening slightly as his hand starts to trail up your shirt again. You don’t mind the touch in the least but you’re suddenly feeling quite shy, sliding off of him slowly to find something to distract him with when his phone goes off.

He sighs, answering the call and standing up with a yawn. He starts to listen to the speaker intently but not without leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, gently placing his hat on your head with a wink and a promise. You shake your head playfully and stick your tongue out as he motions to the house, most likely needing to step inside to get to his computer to access whatever documents it seemed the speaker needed most urgently.

You wave him off, hands on your hips as you survey the damage. Boothill had insisted on grilling tonight for dinner which left the two of you with the reminders of a mess. The others helped get the most of it but Boothill didn’t want to keep them out too late on account of already having them work such a long day.

You roll up your proverbial sleeves and get to work tackling the rest of the mess, bringing a bag of garbage to the front of the house. You hear footsteps approaching you on the gravel of the driveway, ready to run inside when you see Geryll holding a basket of some sort.

Eyeing her warily you make your way up a couple steps of the porch. She doesn’t seem insulted by your aversion to her and simply stands at the foot of the structure, offering you the basket in her arms. You know that if you bolt right now it’d just make you look even more suspicious, phone at the ready to call Boothill.

“Can we talk? Please?” she implores, seeming earnest.

You cross your arms, not sure if you should take what looks like a peace offering. Geryll hadn’t been over for a while and when you asked Boothill for details all he said was that the two of them had some sort of argument. You were glad for the peace as it let you actually move through the house without worrying about being screamed at again.

“Whatever you have to say to me, make it quick,” you bark, not wanting her to think she can push you around.

Her eyes flicker to the hat on your head and instinctively you reach up to touch it lightly. It made you feel a little safer, knowing that you had a little bit of Boothill with you at this moment.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted the last time we saw each other. It was cruel of me to spring all of that on you and I should have known better.”

Her words sound genuine as she gazes at you imploringly.

“Please, forgive me. And let me talk to Boothill. I have to apologise to him too.”

You know that holding a grudge against her wasn’t going to resolve anything but you didn’t feel ready to forgive her. You also knew that if you yelled loud enough Boothill would come running out of the door to see what you needed. You bite your lip, trying to determine what to do.

“I don’t accept your apology. You were absolutely out of line and you should know better. We’re both grown,” you scold lightly.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done any of that. It’s just that I’ve seen how hard Boothill’s worked for the life he’s got now and I didn’t want anything to ruin it like you could have.”

She seems to realise that those were not the best words she could have said and shakes herself off, giving you a smile that now seems a little forced.

“Clearly, Boothill cares for you a lot. If I want any chance of making it up to him we’ll need to get along. And it would be nice to have a new friend. What do you say? You don’t need to forgive me right away - we can just take it slow. How about you let me invite you to dinner? It doesn’t have to be tonight just whenever you think you can squeeze it in.”

You look at her reluctantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know…I’ve been really busy here and Boothill’s got some big jobs to prepare for.”

She seems devastated and you can’t help but feel bad just for a second.

“That’s alright. I understand. Whenever you got the time just know that I’ll be ready and waiting with open arms. Here, take this too. It’s a gift from me.”

She places the basket down in front of the porch, stepping back slowly.

“Thank you,” you say to her as you grab the basket, not sure if you really would eat anything from it.

“Of course. Anything to help somebody out.”

Your words are stolen from your chest as a hand clasps over your mouth.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧─── ｡ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆｡ﾟ ───✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Seriously, you need the papers now Mikahal?” Boothill groans, rolling his eyes as he bids you farewell to head to his office.

“I’ve fallen behind and despite the fact that you don’t like to read your bookkeeping is a good reference for me to look at. It won’t take you, what, more than half an hour to help a friend out?”

Boothill knew that Mikhal was appealing to his kindness and willingness to help out others and also knew that he wouldn’t really say no. It was a task that he was more than used to and the mess that was left on the deck was one that could be easily cleaned up anyway.

“Now don’t you start makin’ fun a’ me when you’re the one callin’ me for help. Damn near beggin’ on the phone - you’d think someone was chasin’ ya down for your profits right now,” Boothill laughs, sitting himself down at the computer as he puts the phone on speaker.

“Now, run it by me again. What is it exactly that you need help with?”

“We’re in between quarters but I had a last minute sale just right on that cusp that makes it difficult to figure out if I should slam it onto Q3 or Q4. I mean, I could either end with a giant boost in my numbers or start with a strong lead.”

“That’s why you’re callin’ me? You really think I know the answer to that?” he asks with a roll of his eyes.

Despite his words he sighs and pulls up his papers anyway, trying his damndest to answer each and every question that the other man has for him despite how trivial they seem.

“So how’s your little houseguest?”

The question takes him off guard for a second but it takes him no time to pretend that it didn’t, answering it smoothly.

“Geryll told you my friend was stayin’ with me? She’s adjusted well the last little while. Might even be stayin’ long term.”

“Really? Because she also said something else that I found interesting.”

Boothill’s eyes narrow at the tone that enters the man’s voice.

“Did she now? Somethin’ I should be aware of?”

“Said it was strange that a woman appeared at your home so quickly after your favourite lounge singer disappeared. Told me a little bit more about how she looked.”

It doesn’t take a genius to know what Mikhal is referring to, Boothill growling low in his throat. He doesn’t want to make an outright accusation just yet, knowing that there’s still the slightest chance that Mikhal is just confused, or was just going to make some sort of crude joke about it.

“I got eyes on her the other day. Knew it was her the second she turned to face me.”

“You son of a-”

Boothill’s hand slams against his desk, no longer to deny the facts staring him in the face.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t go swearin’ at me. I told you already that if you were willing to work with me we’d be able to split the prize money. Did you know he doubled it last I asked? ‘Pparently he’s gotten real desperate the closer we get to his final departure.

“I wasn’t sure how to separate the two of you but I realised I was just overthinking things. Good chance that you’d be distracted for just long enough for Geryll to come over for a visit if I asked you just a few questions.”

Boothill’s body kicks into overdrive, not bothering to hang up the call as he runs out to the deck. You’ve started to tackle the mess that he left you with, probably somewhere close to the front of the home where the trash can was sitting. It takes him no time to circle around the front, cursing himself as the telltale signs of a struggle sit in the dirt path. All that’s left is the hat he gave you, Boothill staring at the ground in shock.

The tinny sound of a voice on his phone laughing just angers him even more, bringing the device back up to his ear.

“Any chance you think Sampo’ll give me a minute with her before he whisks her away?” Mikhal leers, the smirk audible in his voice.

“You bastard. Touch a hair on her body and I’ll kill you. Your poor wife doesn’t deserve this.”

“You’re all bark and no bite Boothill. Maybe you’ve gotten soft over these last years.”

Boothill steps over to the hat he gave you, touching the wicker softly.

“I’ll kill you,” he growls at the voice on the phone.

“That’s a promise.”

#boothill x reader #hsr x reader #hsr boothill x reader #songs of sorrow

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