#what are mark stans called again

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

[ramp-it-up]

Knock You Down: II

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Bucky has to answer some hard questions on date #2.

This is a follow up to Part I

Word count: 3 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Part III will be posted on Sunday, 10/13. I think it will be the final part. 😓

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, daydreams of: oral sex (f receiving), marking, edging, & overstimulation. High potential for phone sex? Narrowly missed masturbation; a pet name in google translate Romanian; voice kink; drunk messaging/calling; Bucky has you under surveillance; AAAAngst. The heat is ramping up, but still no sex!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———-

Bucky woke with his lips tingling for want of you.

After your first date, sleep had been elusive. His thoughts of you led to a physical condition that he was used to taking care of right away, one way or another.

He decided that only you could solve his problem.

You had him as hard as a rock and Bucky knew that your soft curves were both the culprit and the cure

In his dreams, he had been eating you out, the smell in his nostrils a mix the your natural scent and perfume on your wrist as he went down on you. He couldn’t actually taste you, but he just knew that you were delicious.  

Knowing that he would be distracted all day, Bucky tried other means to work out his frustration. He got up, worked out, and concentrated on not being a simp. 

Unsuccessful.

At the stroke of 8 am Bucky sent you a good morning text and inquiring about your sleep. He hoped that your dreams were as full of him as his were of you.

Bucky chuckled as he pressed send. Good morning texts were not in his repertoire, quite the opposite. He was a pro in dodging follow up texts from his conquests.

After 10 minutes, he put his phone down, because he realized he was staring at it waiting for your response. In the shower, the stream of cold water was meant to calm the lava in his veins at the thought of you still asleep in bed. He needed to stop thinking of waking you up with his head between your legs because then his erection would never go down.

Back in his bedroom, Bucky saw that you had responded. His heart was in his throat at just the notification of not just a text, but an image sent on his screen. He had to sit down.

I had sweet dreams.

Image sent from Y/N

The image was a pic of you in your bed, hair tied back and no makeup. The morning sunlight on your skin was everything and the soft smile on your face looked so kissable.

It appeared that you were wearing a tank top. He could see your neck and the tiniest bit of cleavage, but it was enough to have him raging hard again. 

The highly rational urge to mark you up as a punishment for torturing him came to him like a bolt of lightning.

God, the thought of punishing, maybe edging you all day, or better yet, having you beg him to stop making you cum as he overstimulated you sent his hand to his dick under the towel, but his other hand was reaching for your contact. 

He groaned when he realized what he was doing. One hand had to stop. He wasn’t going to do this.

Bucky unhanded himself and sighed as your phone rang, then his stomach dropped as he realized you probably wouldn’t pick up. 

“Hullo? James?”

Your morning voice. The fantasy of how to wake you up took hold again.

“G-,” Bucky cleared his throat, but it didn’t help much.

��Good morning Frumoasă.”

Damn, his voice. Yeah. You had a voice kink. You felt the urge to ask for a picture of him.

And you knew where that would lead.

The rest of your day depended upon not revealing how much of a slut you were for him already, so you decided to crack a joke.

“Fumosa? What does that mean? You calling me fugly or something?”

Bucky laughed, and the sexual tension was broken. You were so fucking charming. He was definitely feeling you.

Bucky wanted to do so much more than to just be physical with you; he wanted to just be with you.

“Far from it, Y/N. Frumoasă means beautiful in Romanian. Ești foarte frumoasă. You are so beautiful.”

You could hear his smile as he replied.

“Hmmmm. Well. Good morning to you too, James. And thank you.”

Bucky smiled at his bedroom wall, reclining on his unmade bed, not caring that he would be late for work. But he was the boss, so it didn’t really matter. He wanted to hear that moan-hum thing you did again, so he repeated himself.

“Ești foarte frumoasă.” 

You were shook. When Bucky spoke in Romanian, his voice lowered an octave or two. It left you squirming.

You stifled another moan and Bucky shifted, his towel moving again.

This phone call was getting dangerous. 

“James…”

His heart beat double time when you said his name, as if you were asking for so much more than just his attention. One word from you and he would would make you see stars over the phone.

Damn, he was hard as a rock.

“Yes?”

The way his voice broke over that one little word left you speechless, trying to make a wise choice of words. Now was not the time for phone sex, no matter how much you wanted his voice to talk you through it. This man had you caught up, but you were trying to chill.

“See you in a few days.”

Bucky smiled again. You were constantly changing the game, a Queen to his Knight. But he was determined to capture you.

“See you in a few days frumoasă. I can’t wait. Have a great day.”

—

After that, you two stayed away from phone calls, subsisting on texts and anticipation for the next four days. 

But you couldn’t get away from thoughts of Bucky, especially since Nat showed up at your favorite coffee shop that morning. She claimed that she lived nearby while hinting that Bucky liked you a lot. You just smiled and tried to be enigmatic, not the blushing schoolgirl that you felt inside.

Hungry for more pictures of you, Bucky followed you on Instagram. You didn’t habitually reveal a lot of skin, but what he could see of you made him want more. 

You noticed his follow, (accompanied by several gossip rags) and took note as you blocked them and made your page private. James Barnes gave no fucks who knew about you. You smiled all day long at that knowledge.

On Wednesday, he noticed that you posted girl’s night out, apparently to celebrate your friend Sydney’s engagement.

You looked good, skin glowing, body giving, and those brown leather pants making him dizzy just by staring at them through a screen. He knew he’d be feral if he saw them in person.

Bucky fantasized all evening about you coming home to him that night.

When Bucky liked the post your heart rate increased and you felt like you were in a race.

“I’m winning!” 

You whooped it up with your friends and ordered another bottle. That’s when you saw Sam out of the corner of your eye. You invited him over for drinks, much to the delight of your friends.

Your drunk text to Bucky when you got home and the following exchange had him grinning as he went to sleep that night. Friday evening would be interesting indeed.

You woke up Thursday morning, wondering why you had a picture of a shirtless Bucky Barnes as the lock screen on your phone.

Your eyes almost fell out of your head as you opened your messages and saw this exchange:

Hey James. I want to fuck your voice. Especially when you speak Romanian. 🫠

But I can’t fuck until date number 3 sooooo

*Voice memo from James

*Voice memo to James

Image sent from James

Thank you Daddy. 💋

You are welcome, Frumoasă. 😏

You threw your phone.

You called him Daddy????

And you told him about the three date rule.

You were out of control.

You immediately sent him another message.

Good Morning, James. I apologize for last night. Please, burn your phone and destroy all messages from me. Have a nice life. 🫣

Good morning, Frumoasă. Last night was harmless fun. 😉 Have a wonderful day. See you tomorrow evening.

You grinned because although you were embarrassed, he was right. And also because he was a chaotic, but harmless gentleman. He just gave you what you asked for and didn’t take advantage of the situation. And his left arm tattoo sleeve was sexy as fuck.

What a man.

——-

When Steve and Sam caught him staring your picture during an auction that morning, Bucky just grinned as his best friends razzed him. He realized that you were worth it as he serenely endured them busting his balls. 

Later that day Sydney sent you some very interesting articles about Bucky Barnes and his business and called to check up on you. Your heart sank as you assured her that you were okay and thanked her for being a friend.

There was a different vibe for you now; James Barnes might not be the perfect guy. But you tried not to overreact.

Everything that was posted online wasn’t necessarily true.

You decided to exercise to clear your head, but lo and behold, when you looked to your left at SoulCycle, there was Steve Rogers, Bucky’s best friend. You managed to dodge a conversation by rushing off to work.

You were looking forward to your date, because James Barnes had a lot of explaining to do.

—----

When Bucky picked you up on Friday, you opened the door and quickly retreated to get your coat and purse as soon as he entered.

“Hello James,” you said from across your living room. 

Buck couldn’t put his finger on what shifted, but something had. He raised his eyebrow at you as you stood out of his reach and he felt the chill in the air.

“Hello, Frumoasă.”

He didn’t hide his admiration at your dress as he bit his bottom lip, positive that he could probably just flip up the hem and slip his… Bucky forced his eyes back to yours.

Damn, he looked good in the brown suit and black crew neck shirt. His eyes were everything on those colors. You noticed him checking you out and you looked down at your mustard dress.

“I hope this is okay. I wore this to work. Got out a little later than I expected. Billie, my assistant, and I were setting up for the opening tomorrow.”

Bucky smiled.

“You look amazing. And I can’t wait to see the exhibit.”

You cleared your throat. 

“About that. Are you sure you want to come?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“...Yes. We agreed when I conceded to your price on Monday. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing, we’ll talk about it later. Are you ready to go?”

Bucky let you have whatever space you were needing at the moment.

“Lead the way.”

You chose the venue of this second date, a Harlem Renaissance exhibit in the eponymous borough. Bucky remained the perfect gentleman, taking your hand as he helped you into the car, but keeping his distance as you rode uptown.

If it were not for his all consuming stares and the desire in his eyes, you would think he wasn’t attracted to you. But you couldn’t let your libido have you make a terrible decision. You were deep in thought the entire ride to Harlem.

—---

You were in awe of the exhibit as much Bucky was in awe of you. You caught him admiring you instead of the art more than once, but you just smiled and launched into a conversation about the pieces, discussing the merits of the exhibit.

“That’s very astute. So good. Beautiful and smart.”

Bucky’s proximity to you during your banter was not helping your resolve. His voice in your ear cooing praises was making you weak. But you had to be strong. When he took your hand again as you walked to dinner on Frederick Douglass Boulevard, the thousand butterflies which had taken residence in your stomach on Monday afternoon fluttered their wings. 

Damn. He had you down bad.

After you were seated, Bucky tried to break down the wall that you’d seemed to throw up between you.

“Alright, Frumoasă. Tell me. What is going on in that beautiful brain of yours? You’ve been in your head all night.”

You looked around, trying to avoid those perceptive blue eyes of his, and noticed that the rooftop terrace seemed to be deserted except for the two of you. You had been so caught up in your inner turmoil that you hadn’t noticed the surroundings.

“James…”

He was staring at you again, mouth open, and that tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yes, Frumoasă…”

“Did.. did you reserve this rooftop just for us?”

Bucky smiled and leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. He took a sip of wine before he answered.

“I may have called in a favor of the owner.”

“It’s Friday night! That is quite the feat.”

“Someone as striking as you deserves to be surrounded by beauty. Always.”

You shook your head at him.

“I’m serious James. I’m not your type. We come from two different worlds. You can have anyone you’d want. What would you want with me?”

Bucky sobered up, sensing your anxiety. He moved his chair closer to yours.

“I never make a promise that I can’t keep. And I don’t string women along. I try to make sure that everyone knows what it is with every encounter. Most women know that what happens is a one time thing.”

He stared at you with the ocean depths that were his eyes.

“And I hope you understand that you are not most women. Remember what I said Monday night?”

You nodded, remembering the rush of feelings and wild thoughts. 

“That was the first of many dates. I haven’t been on a second date in… I honestly don’t know how long.”

You digested what he was saying, really wanting to like him, and more. But you had to clear the elephant from the room.

“Speaking of honesty. What do you really do for a living, James?”

Bucky looked at you strangely.

“What do you mean? I-”

“James. You have one chance to tell me the truth.”

Bucky digested the look on your face; he knew you were serious.

“It seems that you have read some things. Or someone has said something to you.”

You shrugged and said, “Both.”

You were anxious and relieved that he didn’t insist on the lie.

“Okay. Then.”

He sighed and looked at you carefully with those eyes, giving you a minute. After he told you the truth, there would be no going back.

“I’ll give you the cliff notes version: 

When we moved to America when I was 10, my dad Jimmy fell into the family business, which was crime. He always expected me to take it over, training me from a young kid. Steve and I grew up together. Nat and Sam came along later. I dove in deep as soon as I was old enough and brought them with me, thinking that's what I wanted."

Bucky shook his head at his own miscalculation.

"It took five years to realize that it was no way to live. When my father died seven years ago, I could finally see a way out. I started the art business because it really is what I love, and I can divest myself of any connection to illegality be completely legitimate in a little over three more years.”

You sat back and crossed your arms. His explanation was too neat and tidy.

“You have a timeline to be done with crime?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but yes. I had a ten year and a five year plan. I’m working the plan with the help of my friends. And I’m doing it for them as much as for me. And if I'm thinking about a future with someone...."

Bucky reached over and took your hand as he stared at you.

"I'd be doing it for my own family as well."

You wanted to melt, but remained strong, pulling your hand from his.

“So you’re saying you aren’t a dangerous man? That I won’t be putting my reputation, my employment, and my life on the line by dating you?”

Bucky sat back as you posed your questions. He had never had to consider them before. He had never ‘dated’ anyone before. He just got what he wanted and they were safe because he never saw them again.

But now that what he wanted was you, and for far more than a one night stand, he was terrified.

“Y/N. I told you. I won’t lie to you. Yes. I am still a dangerous man. And yes, being associated with me can be dangerous. But I want you, Frumoasă. And I will stop at nothing to protect you."

You saw the ferocity of his emotions and you thought of all of them these past few days.

“Nat, Sam, and Steve. Those weren’t coincidences. Were they?”

Bucky gave you a wry smile and dropped his gaze. His voice got soft, as if he were chastened.

“No. They weren’t coincidences.”

Suddenly, you felt stifled, that there was no air avaiable. Even though you were outside.

“I- I need to think. I want to go home.”

“Come. I’ll take you.”

You rose and stepped away from Bucky.

“No. I need some space. I‘ll call a rideshare…”

“Nonsense. Nico is outside. He will take you. I can call Steve to pick me up.”

You looked up into Bucky's sad eyes.

“O-Okay.”

You fought the urge to bury yourself in his arms, and in a few minutes, Bucky put you in the car and you were rolling toward Brooklyn before you realized it.

——-

It wasn’t until you were in your tank top and sweats on your couch having made your head hurt with all of the thoughts for an hour, when you realized you never ate dinner and were starving.

You sighed and picked up your phone.

In just about another hour, your favorite takeout was on its way, comfort for a tumultuous evening. When you answered your door, your stomach flipped at the delivery person clad in white t-shirt, grey sweats, and a backwards ball cap.

You smiled at Bucky.

He grinned back.

“So. Is this date number three, orrrrr?…”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“You can drop the food off in my kitchen. This way, James.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, the heat in your gaze unmistakable.

Bucky smiled and thanked the heavens as he followed the sway of your hips into your home.

——-

Please let me know if you like it! 😊

Next part here.

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode eleven :: “REDBULL FANS”

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various drivers x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔musical releases resume and so does the drama.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

ylnestate

��� liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 18,450,948 more.

ylnestate U&U no. 44 will be released tonight at midnight. ‘Grandstand Girl’ is the 44th mini album by ﹫y/n and features artists like ﹫theweeknd, ﹫justinbieber, and ﹫champagnepapi. All songs (apart from Trust Issues) were produced and written by Y/n in the past couple months as she’s currently working on her biggest record yet, so stay tuned for that 😉⭐️!

tagged: theweeknd, champagnepapi, justinbieber.

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landonorris new brothers unlocked

→ logansargeant hello brother

→ landonorris hello, i hope you know you’re my step brother bc i don’t share y/n 🙏🏼

→ oscarpiastri what about me?

→ landonorris read the terms and conditions, same rules apply to every adopted kid AFTER lando norris 🫶🏻

→ logansargeant ok

→ username PLS

→ username TERMS AND CONDITIONS 😭😭😭

yukitsunoda0511 why does lewis get the good photos

→ y/n he was literally just standing there and he looked good

→ georgerussell63 not fair u always catch the rest of us off guard

→ y/n i caught him off guard too, maybe he’s not the problem 🤭

→ charles_leclerc I’m-

→ lewishamilton ﹫y/n thank you love 🖤🥰

→ username pls don’t flirt with my gf

→ username she will leave us for u in a heartbeat sir PLS stop 🙏🏽

username casually posts after ep announcement, no one like you, y/n y/l/n.

mercedesamgf1 pls bring lewis and george back, we need you three in the office rn 🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀

→ y/n on our way rn 🏃‍♀️

carlossainz55 you adopted oscar???

→ y/n yeah.

→ carlossainz55 oh.

→ y/n if u have a problem with my son u talk to me 🤨

→ oscarpiastri thanks mum

→ username … is the beef squashed now??

→ username i mean.. i hope

[ohbabydollie]

omg so i’m new here but i currently have brainrot for 2 things

1) being a famous celebrity (sortaaaa like the famous streamer one but more famous) where ur like, an actress or model, things like that. and having a semi-public relationship with schlatt where you’ll be spotted holding hands on occasion, or on a red carpet but not really publicly discussing your relationship (even though everyone knows you’re together), and everyone is either super happy and ships the ever loving shit out of you, or they clown on you a bit and make “who’s punching up” videos and odd comments, and just not giving a fuck and being happy together but kinda wanting to be viewed like any other couple and not just another famous couple to be analyzed. (also similar to mutual break up but you don’t care about hate and stay together)

AND

2) schlatt made a joke about having his cock out in the latest chuckle sandwich episode and….. giving him head under his desk when he films….. for some things, like recordings where he’s not showing his face, it’s easy, but when he has his face out, it’s a bit more challenging. he has to restrain the urge to watch you and moan SOOO bad…. that’s all.

LMAO NONNIE THE FIRST ONE, I HAD TOO

okay, let’s say you’re a celebrity that is agreed by men, women, etc. to be absolutely stunning

so many people that love you, call you their wife, etc.

you are an absolute style icon, wearing pieces made for you to exclusive red carpet events

even people who hate you have to agree you’ve got a great style in clothes and makeup and yes, you’re iconic, at least a little

then somehow you make your way to the youtube community

people assume from you being so open and sweet and social is how you find yourself starring in a project directed by Ted Nivison

you’re so excited for it, interacting with other creators, etc.

Jschlatt knows of you, but thinks you’re probably like all those LA stuck up influencers that managed to make enough connections to get what you wanted

but when he has his first interaction with you on twitter??

he’s taking the chance to flirt with you publicly

in any way shape or form

and is so public about his crush on you to the point everyone is convinced he runs a stan account for you

you both do get closer behind the scenes but don’t tell much people about it

especially considering his jokes that people love taking seriously and out of context

you both are pretty secretive about it, super down low about it until the day he decides to pay for your nails

a small j is on the underside of your ring finger as to not show it off too much

it can’t even be seen unless it’s up close

then someone points it out on twitter in a selfie

you say it was dirt, but they know what they saw

then the paparazzi comes in and takes a photo that goes viral of you in sweats and a suspiciously familiar wilson hoodie

you say it a coincidence over and over again but the evidence is undeniable when you post multiple selfies in familiar hoodies that look just a little too large for you

small scratches and bite marks on your arms but you never mentioned getting a cat

then you appear in a chuckle sandwich interview

but the vibe is different in that video compared to the rest with guests

schlatt is polite??? and listening to you??

he looks at you with so much affection

yeah, your team does damage control and quickly

claiming that you’re currently single and focused on your career

then you fuck up on your own

a misclick on a story made for your close friends of you kissing your boyfriend’s cheek as he has the biggest smile ever plastered on his face

oh well, too late to deny anymore

so you don’t say anything until your next red carpet event where he’s essentially your accessory

like arm candy and dressed to match you

then everyone definitely knows

and let me tell you, some stans are sobbing

lots of “i waited 3 1/2 years, white man did it in one week” from fans and other celebrities

punching the air too

lots of crying and audios after they realize you’re dating him fr fr and not them

people definitely make memes out of it

goddess s/o and bf they probably found digging around in the trash and probably has rabies

yk that one meme of shining armor and princess cadence?

yeah, that + other attractive partner and their silly bf

so so so many of those “do you think we’re…in another universe?” slides

they clip any time he talks about you and use it for edits

editing characters you play with c! schlatt (it’s giving jack frost x elsa)

they love the two of you and seriously cannot get enough

but they really are punching the air when he marries you and when he gets you pregnant (if applicable)

[naranja-301]

Stan can feel his vision going blurry, he was crying, figures out a while ago but how can't he? He felt like it was to much, to much for him but at the same time felt so good.

There betwen his legs laying down in the bed was Fiddleford, his hands holding with a gentle hold both his thighs and his mouth trailing with soft Kisses his skin. His touch was so gentle and so hot at the same time, the lips of Fiddleford going all the way up from his knees to his inner thighs.

After a few minutes of kissing the touch turned into nibbling, the teeths of Fiddleford leaving light marks in Stan.

Oh, but that wasn't the thing that was making Stan go crazy, it was the things that Fiddleford said to him in any touch his lips Made, in any nibbling his teeth Made on the skin of his thighs.

"I love You so much, Stanley...You are so good...so inteligent"

Another soft bite meets the skin of Stan, that with those Words, the way Fiddleford said them Made him unable to hold back another cried moan from his throat

"I'm-...i'm not-"

"sshhh...My love...My everything...yes You are"

Fiddleford moves his lips more up, almost metting with that spot on the body of Stan that sure would made the man go more overwhealmed that he already was.

"please...Fidds...I...I can't-"

"yes You can, love...please...let me love You..."

Fiddleford moves slighty from betwen the legs of Stan, sitting betwen them and his hands make their way to the face of Stan that had some tears in it. He gives Stan a warm smile, his eyes showing only love for the man under him, sweaping his tears with his thumbs.

He leans foward, Stan has to hold tight the sheets of the bed to supress another moan that wanted to leave his lips but at this point his body didn't made the actions his brain was telling to. He felt scared, even a bit frustrated with himself. Weak, the first thing his brain was screaming at him when he leaves another moan when Fiddleford breaks the Kiss and returns to those soft, gentle touches Fiddleford around his body, and just like if Fiddleford could read his mind he stopped, it was so sudden that made Stan freeze in place.

Stan looks up at Fiddleford Who had a somekind sad expression in his face and Stan hates himself for feeling like being the reason of that expression. Before he can Say anything he feels how Fiddleford holds his hand with his, guiding it to his face, massaging the back of his hand with both of his hands. He could feel the warm of the skin of Fiddleford, his thumb in an unconsious action caresing his cheek.

"Stan..."

"...i'm sorry... i'm-...I-"

God, why did he felt like this? Why does his heart have to hurt so much when looking up at the eyes of the other? Those eyes that Saw in him something he doesn't even know what, but sure enought to make the other stay and don't leave him, don't push him away. He felt his visión going blurry again, no no no he can't, he can't show weakness, not now, not with Fiddleford.

He is about to Say sorry again when the sensation of those warm and soft lips meet his jawline, then the corner of his lips, his nose and finally, the corner on his left eye. His hand no longer on the cheek of Fiddleford but holded with his in a soft grip.

"Stanley...You don't have to Say sorry for anything..."

"..."

"It's ok...it's ok, Stanley..."

Stan keeps looking up in silence at Fiddleford for some minutes, just Staring at the other with a shaky breath. His eyes traveling for all the face of Fiddleford, his eyes, his large nose, those lips, the lips that Made him felt like crazy just Moments before.

And then, he can feel how his ear gets a bit wet, his vision going more blurry. Stan leaves a shaky breath while more and more tears falls from the sides of his face.

He can't help himself this time, his body craving for letting all out, feeling still scared but now more secure, secure that the other wouldn't call him weak, or even a dissater. He cries, he even can feel how Fiddleford hugs him tight with his arms, cooed to him as if he were a little kid.

"it's on Stan...I got You...I got You..."

Stan wraps his arms back around Fiddleford, it was tigh, like he was scared the other would run away from him. He cries now more lauder, hiding his face on the crock of the neck of Fiddleford.

They both keeps like that for around 30 minutes, Fiddleford not stopping wispering those sweet and warm Words to Stan, brushing his hand on his back.

Stan sniffes his nose, sweaping the tears out from his eyes. He doesn't dare to look up at Fiddleford, not yet, he just stays there and wispers lowly at him.

"...thank You...for everything..."

Fiddleford hugs more tight at Stan, leaving a soft Kiss in his ear.

"anytime..."

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”

[darkmajesty-xo]

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

[piss-pumpkin]

🌲home🌲

Older!Dipper pines x reader

~3.2k words Chapter 1 of Douce amere,

Master list

The air in Gravity Falls was different. Maybe nostalgia clouded your perception, and maybe that was okay. It still smelled like pine and cedar and adventure here. And the day had that electric feel. It was the day they were coming.

Your alarm blared, and you groaned in response, grasping under your pillow to find your phone and silence it. Nine AM, on the dot. An early morning at the start of summer was a punishment in itself, but you had good reason today. Their bus came in at noon, and you had to be ready, meet them at the stop with the Grunkles and gang. You stumbled out of bed, and started to get dressed.

Half of you wanted to just wear pyjamas and spare yourself the trouble. The other half wanted to dress as nice as possible to snag attention. They hadn’t seen you in person in a year, even him. You sighed at yourself for giving into the stereotype, but you did want to catch his attention. No pyjamas today.

As you started to brush your teeth, you could feel the anxiety. As exciting as it was to start a new summer with them, it was scary too. What if they’ve changed? What if I’ve changed? You texted and called a lot, but… 

You shook your head, trying to clear the thought. They were friends. Always were and always will be. You hoped. 

Still, that wasn’t the only pain. You were older now. It was one of the last summers you’d be able to spend here with them before high school ended. You had to squeeze every bit of fun out of it while you could. Time seemed to slow here, but it still passed. Summer still ended eventually, despite everything. 

You shook your head again. The very beginning wasn’t the time to think about the end. 

Dressed and ready, you grabbed an apple and started to the mystery shack, a few hours before they were set to arrive. “Bye, Y/n! Have a good day!” you aunt shouted from the kitchen. 

“Bye, Susan, you too!” You called back. She was incredibly kind to let you stay with her, lazy Susan. 

The shack was close, and the soft grass folded under your shoes and wet them with dew. “Y/n!” You hear Soos call from the porch. He was still sporting the question mark shirt, but it was under a suit jacket, and the hat he wore was the fez Stan had given him all those years ago. 

“Soos!” You shouted back, waving as you jogged your to him. 

“Dude, I am so stoked for today, you don’t even know,” he said, leading you inside. 

“Dude, I know too well,” you laughed. “Ugh I can’t wait, I should have slept in more.”

Wendy popped her head in from the break room, “amen, man, I’ve been here since seven.”

You cringed, and clenched a fist near your chest, “My condolences.”

The mid morning passed quickly though, despite everything. There was still that static feeling, and it only grew as the day went. And eventually, the time did in fact come. The time to go to the bus stop and meet them. You had to. All of you. Stan, Ford, Soos, Wendy, none of you were willing to prolong the meeting any further. The only shame was that Candy and Grenda were still out of town. 

                                             …

The bus was rolling in, all to slowly for your liking. For everyone’s liking. You could feel how the people around you were buzzing with excitement too. One year was far to long away from these people. Your people. The bus came to a stop seemingly at your feet.

The door seemed to slide open agonizingly slowly, but against all odds, it opened. Out came Mabel, screaming.

”Aaaaaugh! Guys!” She yelled, jumping out of the bus and skipping the stairs. She threw he luggage aside as she managed to envelope everyone in a group hug before they had time to respond. 

Stan was the first to recover, quickly leaning into the hug. “Kid, you get taller every time I see you!”

Ford laughed, “You almost beat Stan and I.”

You almost spoke, but your eye caught on the second person leaving the bus. Dipper had a wide smile on his face as he watched the scene. With a sigh, he placed his bags with Mabel’s and joined he hug. 

“Dip!” You found yourself exclaiming, along with Wendy. The both of you maneuvered to let him in the centre of the hug. 

There they were, at last. Dipper and Mabel, Mabel and Dipper. Here. Home. You smiled, barely hearing the words around you as you buried your face in Mabel’s hair and Dipper shoulder. They smelt a bit musty from the bus ride, and a bit like Mabel’s strawberry shampoo. This was the place to be. You squeezed tighter. So did they.

                                               …

Walking back to the shack was nice, pleasant, nostalgic. Dipper and Ford talked science, while Stan interjected to call them nerds. Soos and Wendy were chatting, and You and Mabel were catching up behind them. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t call and text, but there was so much you had to just say. But Mabel was, on occasion, a stinker. She had a smug grin on her face as she drifted back a bit behind he others, prompting you to follow. 

“So Y/n, are you gonna do anything about your crush on-“

You threw your hand towards Mabel, and covered her mouth before she got his name out. She immediately started to lick it, but you stayed strong. Your head whipped in front of you to Dipper and the rest of them before looking back to Mabel, who’s smirk you could see in her eyes. “Dude, what the fuck?” You whispered. Or maybe it was more of a hiss. “Don’t just say that! Not now!” You wiped your wet hand on your pants.

She giggled. “Fine, fine,” Mabel shrugged, still smirking smugly. “Just trying to help is all.”

You pursed your lips, and squinted at her. “Somehow I don’t believe that… and who says I need help?” You turned your head away from her with an uplifted chin to add an air of smug snottiness to your question. 

“Uhh, the fact that you’ve been pining for like, two years, and are still single?” Mabel said dryly. You could still hear the shit eating grin in her voice, “But hey, what’s a professional matchmaker to that, hmm?”

You winced, “Okay you have a point.” You snapped your eyes back to her, and smiled, a slightly evil and cunning smile. “But this summer, I have a plan… this is the one I can feel it.”

Mabel faked a gasp, pressing her palm to her open mouth, “My gosh? A plan?” She mocked. “You sound like Dipstick now.”

”Oh god, don’t say that,” you laughed. “This isn’t like his plans, this one is simple, honestly.

Mabel looked quizzically at you in response. Her hands started to come it her eyes, nearly forming her skepticals.

”No really, don’t even with that,” you said, swatting her hands down. “I say plan but it’s really just… an idea. I’m just gonna flirt, like a lot. Like really smooth, hopefully. Or try to, at least.” Saying it out loud, you almost felt embarrassed, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

Mabel on the other hand, looked ecstatic. Her head was on a swivel looking between you and Dipper. “Okay, that’s a plan I can get behind,” she said. “I think you could have moves, I see the potential.”

You stifled a laugh, “Glad to hear it, glad your rooting for me.”

”Of course I am!” She said, hands flying into the hair for effect. She turned to you as you walked, and pointed to your face with one hand, the other resting on her hip. “And I will do my absolute best to assist your noble quest whenever possible, should you choose to call upon my services!” 

You played into the bit. “Appreciated, you are like my loyal knight and this is a war which we must win together.” You clasped her pointing hand in yours, “We will prevail!”

Mabel’s eyes lit up, “Fuck yeah we will!” She yelled. A bit too loud. Dipper and Soos turned their heads in front of you, shooting you curious looks. 

Ever smooth, you shot them back a snap and a finger gun. Dipper only smiled, giving Soos a light punch punch the  arm before drifting back to walk with you and Mabel, at your side. He laughed, “Fuck yeah you will what?”

You smirked, and stroked your chin with faux smugness. “Mmm, wouldn’t you like to know, Dip.”

Mabel chimed in, “Yeah, we got secrets, we’re scheming!”

Dipper rolled his eyes as he chuckled, “God, that has to be a new record for you guys, we’ve been here a whole five minutes and you’re already plotting shit.”

You smirked, and did your best to maintain eye contact. “Hey, I always am, it’s how I keep life interesting.”

”Life is very much that when you’re involved,” Dipper laughed. 

You could feel Mabel’s eyes burning into the back of your skull as she held her tongue and listened to your banter. Involuntarily, your smile widened.

”And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said. 

You laughed, “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.”

He blushed, his cheeks turning a slight pink colour, hopefully at your comment. First blush of the summer, hopefully the first of many you’d get from him, he was rather cute when he blushed. You were particularly fond of how the corners of his mouth curled up when he did, in the slightest of smiles.

”Welcome home, kids!” You heard Stan yell in front of you.  He turned around to walk backwards toward the shack so he was facing you and the twins. “Finally, am I right?”

Ford kept his back to you, but turned his head so you could see his eyes, “we’ve been looking forward to you kids coming back for a while, if you couldn’t tell.”

”Stans been driving me up the walls talking about you guys for months,” Wendy chuckled. “Y/n too for the last few days.”

You couldn’t help yourself, ”Hey, I did not!” you defended.

Soos snickered, “dude, you totally did.”

You pursed your lips and hummed lowly in disapproval. They were probably right, but that wasn’t something you’d outwardly admit. “Yeah whatever, nerds, that’s not how I remember it.”

Stan cackled, ”The congratulations, you got Alzheimer’s before the seventy year old man!”

You grumbled, trapped in this conversational corner. Mabel smiled, and elbowed your side, “Awww, somebody missed us!”

Dipper spoke too, “That much?” he asked, a little too innocently. Innocent enough to be mocking. 

You scoffed, “like you guys are any better.”

You all moved inside the shack to get settled in the living room, all still chatting. Dipper and Mabel’s suit cases were leaned against a wall by the stairs. 

Mabel pushed Dipper hard on the back towards you. “You’re right, Y/n, this little rascal hasn’t shut up about you guys for a week.” Dipper whipped his head around to glare at her, as if a threat. She snickered, “especially you, Y/n,” she teased. 

Dipper spun his head back around to look at you, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not like that-“he sputtered, a blush in his cheeks. 

You smiled. If you had to guess, you’d call if fifty/fifty it was actually not like that. You hoped anyway. Fifty/fifty on a good day, twenty-five/seventy-five against you on most others. “I believe it, Mabel is a half reliable source at best.”

”Hey!”

Stan chimed in and spoke to Mabel, “Hate to agree with Y/n, but they are completely right, sweetie.”

                                             …

The conversation moved, and you all caught up with everyone. As much as you already had, having arrived a few days before the twins, there was always more to say, more stories to tell. A lot can happened between summers. 

And eventually, it simmered down, and the twins started to try and settle in. 

There was a double edged sword to that, being, the twins still shared a room despite their age. It was slightly more annoying now then it was when they were twelve, especially to you, who occasionally wanted to hangout there with Dipper, and divorce yourself from Mabel’s match making antics from time to time. 

Mabel took her bags up first, running up the stairs with haste and excitement. You walked up behind Dipper, catching his attention, and did you best at a little bow. “May I help with your bags, m’lady,” you asked.

Dipper grimaced and recoiled, but a smile crossed his lips. “You sound like a redditor,” he snickered as he started to pick up his suitcases. 

You shrugged, “Your loss.”

He smiled, “I wouldn’t let m’lady strained their perfect hands.”

You laughed as you walked with him up the stairs. “Ew, yeah, I hear it. Never again, no more m’lady, too neckbeard for me.”

”Good, because I took a lot of psychic damage from that,” he said. “You can mimic the Redditor mannerisms with freakish accuracy, right down to the face.”

You put your hand to your chest, feigning hurt. “I take incredible offence to that, I do not have Reddit face,” you scoffed. 

As you approached the door to the attic, you stepped in front of Dipper to open it for him, who had full hands. Mabel was already laying on the bed with Waddles, kicking her feet in the air as she laid on her stomach. There were already posters on the wall and stuffed animals on the bed, too. 

Dipper barely batted and eye, moving to his side of the room with a small comment, “you work fast.”

Mabel shocked, ”You know me, they call me sonic in the-“

“Buddy,” you cut her off. “You finishing that sentence would actually kill me.”

She smirked, and rolled on her back to face you. “There’s a joke there about finishing, but I don’t wanna look for it.”

”Everyday you find new ways to disgust me.”

“Imagine living with her,” Dipper added, taking folded clothes out of his suitcase. 

Mabel grumbled, but said nothing and instead rolling over and looked at her phone. Waddles oinked beside her.

“Hey, it’s summer, I can imagine it perfectly well.”

Dipper laughed, and sat on the bed, looking at you with a smile. “Yeah… you do pretty much live here in the summer, huh?”

You sat down next to him, and grabbed the old musty pillow that rested at the head. “Good thing or bad thing?” 

He looked away, and laughed slightly, “Good thing.”

                                            …

The day went by, remarkably fast. The sun set, the energy simmered, people left. Soos and Wendy went home, leaving you chatting with Stans late at night. You didn’t quite want to leave yet. Instead, you nodded and snapped a finger gun to Stan and Ford, and quietly ascended the stairs to the twins room.

Mabel was sleeping already, snoring lightly. Not loud enough to bother you much. Dipper though, was reading. A small lamp in the bedside table illuminated the small space by his bed, where he sat upright against the headboard. “Dip,” you said quietly. “What are we reading?”

He looked up from his novel with wide eyes, as if broken from a trance. “Oh, God- y/n,” he stuttered, startled. “Are you staying over?”

You bounded over to the bed and took a seat next to him, nestling your feet under the blanket. “Yeah, but that’s not the point,” you said, leaning on his shoulder and glancing at the books pages. “What are we reading?” 

His skin was warm on your hands and arms as you leaned on him. His loose t-shirt was soft, too. He stammered a bit, “Oh, well- it’s a mystery novel, a murder, detectives…” Dipper looked at you for a flicker, as if checking to see if you were still interested. “There’s these two brothers that are the main characters, and this one guy who’s their partner.” Dipper taps the pages, and chews his lip. “But I have my suspicions about one of them.”

You hum slightly in a hushed laugh. “So tell me now, who’s the killer?”

Dipper rolled his neck, cracking it. “Man, I really think it’s the partner guy, but it’s awful because one of the brothers is in love with him.”

You winced, “oh shit.” You knew the feeling, empathy for a doomed character. “That kind of sucks for him.” Dipper nodded, and turned the page. He was maybe halfway through the book. you read along with him, trying to gain whatever you could from the out of context scenes. “So should I pick it up, or wait for you to finish it so I can read your next book with you?”

Very quickly you felt heat radiating from him. You did your best not to pull away in the inherent embarrassment of closeness, pushing though the fact that you made him blush again to stay leaned against him, your chin rested gently near his collar bone. “Well I mean- this one is really good, I’ll admit, but I may have just spoiled it for you…”

You waved your hand as he turned another page. “Eh, I don’t mind too bad. Mystery isn’t even my main genre, I just love the book club,” you said. It was nothing but true, it didn’t matter the quality of the book if you were reading it with him, or anyone really. But mainly him, or sometimes Mabel. Even if it was the worst book ever written, it was at least fun to discuss it and make fun of it together. 

“Well in that case, yeah I’d recommend it,” he said. “Wanna borrow my copy when I finish?”

”Mmhmmm,” you hummed, tired. “Or I could just read with you, I guess. I’m sure the first half wasn’t that important.”

Dipper shook his head, a slight and baffled smile forming across his lips. “I disrespectfully disagree with you,” he said, turning the page.

You yawned, “That’s… rude.” Your eyes were sluggish as they followed along with the words. Dipper started to turn the page again, before you were ready. You quickly cut him off, “Hey, hey, wait for me, I’m tired, alright?”

He turned the page back, “Alright, alright,” he yawned in response. 

You pawed at the pages when you finished, and on the next one, Dipper waited for you to do it again before turning it. And then, again. 

And somewhere along the way, you fell asleep, sitting with him on his bed, head leaned on his shoulder, and feet warmly huddled under the blanket. It was summer, and everything was okay again, home, in gravity falls. Whatever the summer held for you, whether it be mystery, adventure, love… you were ready. Whatever summer could throw at you, you were ready

Next chapter

Hello! This is a part of my Multi chapter dipper x reader story, I love it a lot, it’s one of those fics that’s like my baby. This was the first chapter written so yeah, it’s kinda rough. I really don’t wanna reread it so if there’s spelling errors lmk I guess😭

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Are You Sure?! - Episode 1 Observations

Jimin and Jungkook in the same car together was the gift that kept on giving. Besides how at ease they were with each other, the banter made it all so much better. Because even then, they had a huge smile on their face. I know it's easy for me (and others) to call Jungkook a brat (he can be), but Jimin is no better and sometimes he likes to push Jungkook's buttons to get a reaction out of him.

Yes, that is definitely how a dongsaeng should talk to his hyung. That dynamic was either all over the place or completely absent. It felt more like they were both on equal footing and sometimes it should shift but I couldn't sense any of that more traditional age based relationship they are supposed to be having.

And all this for to me say that I have this tiny desire to witness a real argument. We know how they deal with conflict within their relationship through the retelling of their rainy day fight, but that was ages ago. They are more mature now, with their relationship in a different stage and that brings other issues to the surface. The short and heavily edited conversation about the lack of quality time was a small window into that. Both were laughing and indeed in wasn't a serious conversation, but it did confirm once again how needy and attached Jungkook is. And that doesn't exist in a vacuum. It can show through more cute/funny "moments" on camera, but we all know there's many ways for that to manifest.

What I'm trying to say is that as much as I emphasize that all I want is to enjoy KM, the truth is that it doesn't only include cute moments. I enjoy when they argue or when one is not in the mood or maybe bored, etc. Or when they disagree. It's a mark of authenticity there in terms of how they agree to come across on screen as individuals, but also it's the complexity of their relationship, regardless of its nature.

Often, the issue was (and still is) with the difficulty of putting Jikook in a box. To clearly define their relationship and dynamic. As opposed to other ships which a lot of the times heavily rely on fictional tropes and it's easily noticeable in ships across k-pop fandoms. The behavior might have variations, but the fans are set with their definition of what that pair is like. The bigger part of its component remains the same due to circumstances, personality, type of content, etc.

Even with the BTS fandom/solo stans and all factions of micro-fandoms, they can't really pinpoint jikook and tend to take the fanservice route (which is a confirmation in itself of what they actually see, but I digress). They're not the bickering duo, the married couple or any other trope-like dynamic. With AYS and having access to Jikook in a format that allows us to take a closer look at less interrupted interactions, it becomes even more difficult to pin them down. Which, if not an indication of an actual romantic relationship (the shipping perspective), at least it clearly shows a life spent together outside cameras that seeps in at every turn. At a complaint, a commentary, a familiar touch.

To be continued...

[starsfic]

Grandpa and Great-Uncle AU: The Beginning

Summary: An hour after Shermie agrees to go to Gravity Falls, his son asks him to take his grandchildren.

AO3/ Ko-Fi

-_-

An hour after he hung up the phone, it rang again.

"Hello?" Shermie said. He wondered if it was Stanley, wanting to hammer out some last details or canceling the plans. "This is Shermie-"

"Uh, hey dad," Mark didn't sound as steady as he usually did. In fact, he sounded on the verge of tears. Shermie straightened up, concern rising. Mark calling upset was so common by now that his back didn't hurt after two years. "Uh, it's Mark... something happened..."

Ah, shit. With the state of his son's marriage, Shermie had to guess. "Did you or Ariel leave with the kids?"

"No," His daughter-in-law spoke up, her voice muffled. There was a sob in her voice that made Shermie want to hang up and drive over. However, it was ten in the evening and Piedmont was an hour away. "I fucked up and I said something really nasty to Mark and Mason..." There was the faint sound of her blowing her nose. "Mason overheard me saying something nasty about him and Mabel to Mark."

Oh. Oh boy.

"This is why I told you-"

"I know, Dad," Mark said before Shermie could start on again about marriage counseling and divorce. Everyone in the family knew that this relationship was a ticking bomb that would hurt the twins. "We know. That's why we called."

"We were hoping that you could take them for the summer," Ariel said, sounding much calmer now. "We don't want them to get caught up in the middle of us being shitty about each other." The foul language made Shermie raise a brow, but he stayed silent. At least they were taking responsibility and getting the twins out of the blast radius. "I- We know it's a lot to ask..."

"But, I would say yes," Shermie had to interrupt. "But I'm actually staying the summer with Uncle Stanley."

There was a pause. "Really?" Mark said, sounding baffled. "I thought he didn't want any of us visiting because of how dangerous the supernatural stuff could be." That decision had been made after the one and only visit to Gravity Falls that Mark had when he was three and nearly got abducted by fairies. It hadn't solely been Stan's decision, but Shermie had agreed.

"He...He said he needed backup because of how old he's getting and how busy the Shack is, plus how the portal's coming along," Shermie tried not to tremble at the memory of Stanley's voice, thick with so much regret and anguish that he was tempted to drive to where Filbrick was buried and smash his gravestone. "But, he's not doing well mentally. He didn't say it, but I know he's having a hard time, especially with how long it's been." It would be thirty years tomorrow. "I'm going to go to see what I can do, if I can maybe talk him into walking away."

Probably not, but he had to try. Stanford Pines wasn't worth this.

"Maybe the twins might help?" Ariel said, interrupting his thoughts. "You know how excited he got when he visited them in the hospital."

Oh, yeah. At the memory of Stan's elbow in his face, his nose ached.

But Stan had been delighted when he realized that there was a second pair of twins in the family. Shermie's favorite picture was of him holding the twins, their mom hugging him.

"I'll have to ask him. Give me a second." He hung up and his fingers trembled as he typed in Stan's number. Shermie wasn't sure if it was hope or anxiety, but he held his breath as it rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stanley, um...Here's the thing. Mark and Ariel want Mason and Mabel out of the house during the summer," Shermie said, trying not to panic as he said it all in one breath. "I told them that I was going to be visiting you and Ariel suggested I take them with me to-"

SMASH.

Shermie jolted at the noise, dropping the phone. He scrambled to grab it, his heart racing at an uncomfortable rate. "Stanley?!"

"Sure, bring them!" There was another smash. "I've missed the little gremlins. I can take them fishing." Another smash. "I didn't really get to do that with Mark when he visited."

"What are you smashing?"

"Oh, my beer." There was a thump. "Anyway, let me know when you guys are coming. I have to set up the attic and find the spare bedroom and find my cigars." And with that, the line went dead. Shermie blinked before he started dialling Mark's number.

Well, that was a hell of a yes.

"Hello? Dad?"

"He said yes."

[babybluebex]

bex how do you feel about the jq news

dreaded getting this question but knew it would happen eventually, and this got long so like tl;dr - i think it's fake, and i don't want to talk about it anymore.

i think it's a fake PR stunt, bc joe and that woman are so fundamentally different that i don't know how they could have organically come together and could avoid conversations that revolve around the bad shit she's done (amongst MANY other things, her blatant hatred and mistreatment of her fans like. the man who cried onstage at a convention bc he was so thankful to have fans. verus. a woman who calls her fans weird and tells them to get a job and is such an asshole to them like. how do you find a middle ground/compromise with a partner on smth like that??)

and also how he's been pictured with a woman publicly like twice in two years, but all the sudden there's pictures out the ass of them together, and he's all PDA on her? it's behavior we've never seen from him before, and it's too weird and different from his typical self that it doesn't feel genuine at all to me (and also he's forever beebopping around london because he lives there and NOBODY ever posts pics of him out and about, but suddenly here's three/four pics in one day?? and people being like "oh it looks like fan pics and not paparazzi pics", like paparazzi can take pictures on phones as easily as regular people on the street can. just sayin.)

also also the story breaking on DEUXMOI instead of like leaking to a twitter stan account first?? knowing deuxmoi's reputation, the fact the entire thing originated from them stinks to high heaven to me

but again. this is my interpretation of what's going on. i could be wildly off the mark, but it's my own solace to think it's fake, bc the alternative is that joe is giving attention to a white supremacist neo nazi apologist who makes fun of her fans. and i have put so much of my time/money/attention towards him that it would be so disappointing to find out that he's ok with this sort of behavior, to the point where he'll DATE her.

and in all honesty, i'm just exhausted. this is ab to get trauma dump-ish, but my real life is so stressful rn (for many reasons, but two of the biggest factors being my mother being in and out of the hospital for the past few months, along with being treated like shit at a job that i really enjoy and might have to end up quitting this job bc of said mistreatment), and i come online to escape real life stress, and all of this is making me want to bite people. like online has become miserable for me bc i'm so worried ab opening twitter/tumblr and seeing ANOTHER thing ab someone i like doing things that are icky/distressing. like i hate it here rn, i'm so for real.

i'm grateful that many people seem to be in agreement that this is fake and aren't posting the pics/vids here (or if they are, it just hasn't crossed my dash), but like i'm tired of this. a hiatus might be in order until everyone chooses to calm the fuck down and stop doing things that stress me out 😅 online is supposed to be a fun escape, but lately it's been stressing me out to the point where i won't even OPEN my twitter in fear of seeing something that distresses me even more and makes me spiral.

so tl;dr - i think it's fake, and i also don't want to talk about it anymore. here's my thoughts, take them or leave them, but i won't be talking about it/debating anyone on it.

[kanmom51]

I have always wondered why JM Stans hates JK. I have seen posts about how JK is being the Company's favorite and that Scooter is trying to use JK to out sell JM. I don't believe it but I do want your opinions on this. I know you will probably say that's a very stupid thing to ask for but I see it a lot and I wonder why they keep saying that JK and V are the companies favorites. And also do you think the company didn't actively promote JM? This Fandom has finally twisted things around. I just need to know your thoughts on this matter. Thanks

Hey love.

Ok, where do we start?

Maybe from the end.

It being that it does feel at times that JM gets the raw deal from the company. If it's intentional or just because he's too nice and doesn't speak up enough I don't know. But this has been going on for years. The way the promotions for Face were handled, the way his name or photo somehow seem to disappear at times from official sites. For example the official BTS US store had all the members apart from JM in the index.

The issue has been since fixed, but it took angry JM stans posting and sending messages and emails to the company to notice it and make it happen.

Or, another example is JM's Like crazy Korean and English version streams being counted separately by Spotify.

Little things that make you ask "why him?" or more so "why is it always happening with him?"

Now, it's not that Jin has been forgotten at times as well (being cropped out of group photos at times). Somehow it's always those two, but with JM it's way more frequent and feels off.

Saying that, I do feel that some JM solos tend to make JM out as a constant victim (perhaps part of allowing them to be his saviors). While doing that they are constantly making comparisons with the others and while doing so also try to tear the others down.

I think this is part of the issue with solos. Forgetting that these 7 men are part of one band. A band they ALL want to be part of. Something they have said multiple times in the past and recently as well. 7 men that love each other (not to mention the elephant - cough couple cough - in the room).

It's more than ok to have a preference. A member you feel you like more or feel more connected to. It's a different matter to call yourself a fan of a single member elevating him by tearing down the others and constantly calling for said member to ditch the others and go solo. Spewing hate at the other members in that person's name, supposedly for him. Obviously you are not a fan of BTS when you do that, but more so you are not a true fan of said member who loves the others you constantly attack and wants to stay with them as a group, as he constantly and repeatedly tells us all.

Like the whole comparison made between JM's promotions and JK's (two totally different stories, different artists' objectives, different markets). And let me be clear here. I am not saying it felt like JM's success, which was, I feel, unexpected, was downplayed or not properly formally and publicly recognized. At the time it certainly felt that way. What we don't know is what JM's feelings were on the matter. Did he want it that way or was it a company decision? I know how it looks, but at times we need to understand that there are so many undercurrents and we don't get to see most of what's under the water. We only see what's shared or not shared with us, by the powers at be's decision. For example: Later on, in his documentary we saw that JM did get a cake for the #1 billboard achievement. So was it his choice not to post a pic? At the same time we saw his success, again, kind of being downplayed in articles, in BPD's interview, so this is one of those things I am leaving with a big question mark. Was he given the well deserved acknowledgement (even if not publicly)? Was it downplayed from the start, even towards him? And if so, why?

That being said, attacking JK, writing hateful posts about him, his looks, his artistry, his character not only would not make a damn difference as to how JM is being treated by the company but goes against everything that JM is and everything that JM feels towards JK.

Same issue, btw, with all solos. JK solos and the hate towards JM, the person JK loves the most in this world.

Do you see what I mean?

That was a little long winded, lol.

So, I do take issue with the need to cut down at another members success only to lift JM's up (he don't need no lifting, he's bloody amazing). I can assure you that is something he personally would not want, being the beautiful soul that he is, he wants the others to succeed and is not in competition with them.

I also hated this need to cut down JK even before his music came out, during JK's promotions, when he was choosing to mirror JM, a clear friggin calculated choice with a clear friggin purpose, by calling him lazy and a copy cat.

First of all you could see, if only you had eyes and kept them open, how throughout ALL of his promotions JK was mirroring JM. It was with similar outfits (even using the same exact black leather pants). It was with wearing the top part of an outfit to which JM wore the bottom part in his promotions. It was with his hair style and colour choices and references to JM's album. Anyway, point being once again that attacking another member does nothing to help lift JM up.

I always find it funny that JM solos hate JK so much.

The person that JM loves more than anyone else, and who loves JM more than they could ever.

The person who knows JM more than they could ever.

The person that JM chose to spend the 18 months of his army service with together, 24/7!! This was not forced on either of them. This was their choice.

Could it be jealousy perhaps? You know, JK gets to get JM and they don't.

Or perhaps this need to be the savior - poor JM needs them to save him from the big bad JK and the big bad company.

p.s. - maybe, just maybe, if indeed JM is being targeted by someone in the company, that's the issue that someone has with him. The fact that he will always come first for JK. The fact that because of him they can't control JK. Well, JK is not someone easy to control, but a. with JM in the picture some of his priorities are different (like wanting to spend time with him, like wanting to go public with their relationship) or perhaps the effect JM has had on JK, being his catalyst (JK's words) and all; and b. Outright homophobia. JK is the golden goose and he is in a long term relationship with a man, a bandmate. It makes life much harder for those that would rather milk the badboy hetero fuckboy image to the limit when said person wants to be accepted for his true self...

Well, that was definitely me digressing from your questions. Oopsy.

Bottom line:

Something kind of feels off with how things seem to go with JM and official content at times over the years (that includes photos, sites, spotify etc.) including his solo promotions.

That said, the comparison with other members, in my opinion, is unjustifiable. Because first and utmost they wouldn't want their fans to be comparing them. They all put themselves out there for their fans and all heartedly supported each other on that journey. Every single one of them had a different kind of solo debut. This is about different music genres, collabs or not, writing their own music or not, promoting out side of Korea or not, even down to the language of the songs. And with this also comes the different kind of promotions. Music shows or live/recorded performances for army, in bigger or smaller venues or even a tour, like Yoongi did.

The comparison with JK is just unfair to both of them. Especially given the very special relationship those two have. Both being the other's biggest fan and supporter.

That aside, the two went on two very different journeys. JM went on a personal journey releasing his first album taking part fully in it's creation, it being a very personal story he was telling us. JK, on the other hand, for whatever reasons (some of which he told us some of which he most likely didn't) decided to go with songs written by others, choosing to challenge himself with singing in English, and new genres and vocals. The choice for an album in English could very much have been pushed by the powers of be, and I do not want to go into the discussion of just how much influence SB has or not, other than say that Bang PD, a very smart and savvy man, knows his way around the music industry and business worlds and has much more influence on JK than anyone else, and that JK is a grown ass man and has told us on more than one occasion that he tends to make decisions for himself, even if at times they might not be the right ones, he goes with his gut. JK also told us he wants to be a huge superstar and singing in English, what can you do, opens up the US and other markets for him in a way that singing in Korean wouldn't.

But even putting that aside people seem to forget that from the get go JK was always the Golden maknae, the one that not only the company saw as their golden goose, but also all other members put on a pedestal. Not saying that's right. Not saying that's fair. But it is what it is. The company is a money making business. And now that BH are under Hybe, although they have autonomy (mostly) on the music, the costs and promotions, they don't have free reign over. And if it's about money making and profits, at times these will be the guidelines as to into what and where the money goes as far as promoting an artist. Let me be clear here. I'm talking here about costs and profits as in how much hard cash was put into a member's promotion over another's. This here isn't about other shit that's happened, such as no public acknowledgement or counting streams of different versions of the same song together or separately. That is another issue. What I'm trying to say here is that the starting point was and never will be the same also due to financial decision making.

Ok, so I think that maybe I've made more of a mess here than anything else, lol.

My bottom line is that even if I feel that JM is being wronged by the company in one way or another (and this goes for any member that might be wronged as well), I would never turn on another member and blame them for it nor would I compare between them. You can like or dislike the music each and every one of them released. That's fair enough and makes sense too. But belittling a member just to try and lift up the other one, that is just wrong in my books.

[theyluvangel]

Biggest Subs in the Groups I Stan - enha, skz, SVT, bts, shinEE, nct, atz, txt, p1h

This is literally which member(s) of these groups I think would be the most submissive in bed!

warnings: probably grammatical and spelling errors, femdom themes, female reader

MDNI

Enhypen:

Sunoo:

biggest pillow prince there is

he just wants you to take over and do with him as you please

he's sensitive so you have to be gentle with him :(

loves praise

loves taking anything up his ass - that being your strap, fingers, a vibrator, or anything else you can think of

Jungwon:

some people disagree, but have y'all seen this man???

he wants you to take complete control over him - tell him what to do and he'll do it

he can be really bratty, but he's usually your good boy

likes some light pet play, nothing too extreme

please finger this man, he adores how close he feels to you when you finger his ass

if he's had a particularly rough day, or if he's just in the mood, he'll let you rough him up a bit - hit him, degrade him, ect.

Stray Kids:

Han:

he's a mommy's boy

lets you do anything you want to him

super loud, he has no shame

loves a bit of pain

horny all the damn time, its up to you to figure out how you want to deal with that

definitely has a bratty side, but he tries can be good

so cuddly

Felix:

the sunshine twins - two big bottoms

he's just so soft and fluffy if you know what I mean

he cry's usually from pleasure all the time, when he gets so overwhelmed he can't not cry

not at all afraid to try new things

slap him around a bit, jerk him off in public, sometimes he just wants to feel like a toy to you

but also please be nice to him, sometimes he also just needs to have some nice lazy cuddle sex

Seventeen:

Mingyu:

"wdym this over 6 foot tall extremely buff man is a big sub?" well let me tell you

he is there to do whatever makes you happy, and he can't do that if you're not telling him what to do

sososo whiny

loves being overstimulated

again i'll bring up the clip of woozi saying Mingyu likes to be degraded and embarrassed by his members

Tie.Him.Up

loves when you degrade him, but also gets so cute and shy when you praise him

loves seeing the marks you leave on him

I'm not going to specifically write out the rest but I think Dino, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jun, and Hoshi are all switches that would love to be submissive under you

BTS:

Jimin:

jimin gives of switch with a sub-lean vibes

he's a mommy's boy as well

can be really bratty but he can also be really good

loves restraints, impact play, really anything that will leave a mark

loves trying new things

he's just a really kinky guy

also super loud

could suck a titty all day

ShinEE:

Taemin:

anyone who has heard his music knows how submissive he is

he has a lovely song called "Criminal", where one of the lyrics is "destroy me more"

this man is a performer, the energy he presents on stage he'll present to you in the bedroom

loves pain play - hit him, scratch him, bite him, literally beat him and he will thank you for it afterwards

loves when you're able to bring him to tears

big masochist, exhabitionist, and voyuer

NCT:

theres several bottoms in this group so the formatting is gonna be a bit different

NCT 127:

Taeyong - mommy's boy

Haechan - brat

Jungwoo - tries to be good

NCT Dream:

Renjun - pillow prince

Jaemin - golden retriever

WayV:

Ten - brat + hella kinky

winwin - good boy, so soft for you

Xiaojun, Hendery, and Yangyang are all switches in my mind

Ateez:

Wooyoung:

holy shit, this man is the brattiest being to ever walk the planet

he loves riling you up so you'll be rough with him

at this point he's just about admitted to having a degrading kink

he's literally such a bratty whore

he NEEDS you to punish him

sometimes he can be good and he'll want you to be gentle with him, but that's rare

literally imagine bending him over your knee and spanking him for being a brat all day (I'm feral for this man)

+ I think both San and Mingi are switches that can be super submissive

TXT:

Soobin:

i think he's naturally a shy+nerdy guy, so he's attracted to people that can take control over him

a bit more of a switch lean

i think he'd really be into having you humiliate him, but he also loves praise

I think he's a bit of a perv, he'd steal your underwear and jerk off into your panties

Beomgyu:

he might be just as bratty as Wooyoung

is always a brat, its hard to get a moment of peace

super kinky and always in to trying new things

He likes to feel so weak underneath you, if you can make him cry and get his legs shaking - you've officially made him want to marry you

he knows he's a brat, so he needs someone to tame him

he'll take anything you give him, even if that means not letting him cum for a week

omg he'd look so pretty with tears running down his face, hair stuck to his forehead, all whilst you edge him until he loses touch with reality

Kai:

he's such a good boy

i feel like he's kinda inexperienced so he'd naturally fall into a more submissive position

he's really vanilla, all he wants is to cum and be praised

if you're mean to him in the slightest he might cry

he doesn't mind edging and overstimulation, but its a rarer for those to occur

+ I think Yeonjun and Taehyun are both switches, but they aren't the most submissive in the group

P1harmony:

(honestly everyone in p1h gives off some sort of subby vibes)

Intak:

he's so puppy coded

he's there to serve and please you

he loves when you praise him and call him your "good puppy"

he will act out occasionally, but he feels bad afterwards and always accepts his punishment

he'll absolutely do anything you want him to

Theo:

he seems to me like a bratty pillow prince

he will talk back

enjoys a healthy amount of both praise and degradation

he kinda acts like a princess in the sense that if he gets too dirty or sweaty, he'll complain until you clean him up

lets out the most beautiful moans

bondage is a must for him

writing this took me a lil bit but I hope you all enjoy! if you couldn't tell I prefer to write from a dom!reader perspective, but I'll write both dom and sub reader. please send me requests because the writers block is crazy rn!

[shunshunrika]

Megumi being rough dom🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

Y'all turning me into a Megumi Stan account (yeah he's my fav bitch but I'm feeling gojo lately).

I will do this concept for a larger set of jjk characters 😌

Jujutsu Kaisen! boys as ROUGH Doms

Warnings: afab!reader, aged up, SMUT, all kinds of things, don't read if not comfortable - nothing is abusive or nonconsensual or weird though.

Megumi Fushiguro

Trial and error rough dom. Rough intercourse isn't something that Megumi particularly knows a lot about and he takes it upon himself to try out different things to see what you like best. It's a new routine each time. One day he would experiment with handcuffs and leg cuffs, another day would be choking you till your eyes roll back, the third time would be stretching you into challenging positions to make sure his cock buries deep in, his weepy penis head kissing your insides with each violent thrust. He'd find that in all of his trials, decorating you with scratches and hickeys is by far the most common outcome.

"You look pretty all marked up by me."

Satoru Gojo

Cocky rough dom. Talks a lot. By a lot, I mean a LOT. and it's all about how good of a fuck he is. Won't stop comparing himself to his mates when he is skewering into you with his lengthy member. You let him though since you're get a marvelous sex session out of it.

"Do ya think Suguru or Nanami fuck their girls this good?"

"You think any of them can last this long?"

"You think any of them cum as much as I would? I'd fill you up till it reaches your uterus yknow."

It's all good though since it really contributes to making you a wet, wet mess just for your stuck up boyfie. If you let him boast on, he might eat you out for hours as a gift, licking your pussy dry as a desert.

Suguru Geto

Mean rough dom. He would do no position other than doggy and it's derivatives since he wants to see his cock go in and out and destroy you in 4K. He'd say a lot of derogatory stuff. Call you his whore. Spit in your mouth. Cum on your face. He gropes your ass hard, aiming to get atleast 3 climaxes out of you, gritting his teeth trying to last long himself. He'd definitely make you beg for those orgasms though, denying them as long as possible, making you weep and moan for them. Maybe he'd sympathise and give in if you suck on his balls for a bit.

Kento Nanami

Calculated rough dom. Does a lot of research. Asks Around- his friends and colleagues, then apologizes for the informalness. Gojo gives him a bit too many tips, not all of which are required. Kento, who trusts Gojo shows up wearing bondage garter belts, whip in hand and cuffs ready. You are so confused for a minute before he begins spanking you with the whip just the right way, with mathematically perfect intensity and angle. certified nipple biter. Would make your maidens go all red and raw. Prefers to fuck you after that with your legs spread eagle, ass in the air and you laying on your belly. When his cum dribbles out, he push it all back in again and again.

Toji Fushiguro

Unintentional rough dom. He is a womanizer™ but he doesn't actually go hard on purpose. He's just built like a bull, with a personality to match. It's no surprise that even a short, soft session would end with you fucked mindless, unable to think or speak - eyes crossed, tongue lolling out. He won't stop until his cum is decorating your face, the insides of your pussy, leaking out of your asshole, sticking in between your thighs, pooling in the fold of your stomach, collecting on your nipples. All of these weren't handjobs, one of your holes was used each time and by the end of it, you pray you don't pass out. That is just how Toji gives back to his girl.

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 2- Blue Light Fright Night

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a party-hating ghost, not new friends and new enemies, 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

"I can't believe it," Ford scowled as he restocked the snowglobe shelf. Little mini Mystery Shacks mocked him as they sat beside glass-encased Waddleses. How did Grunkle Dipper even get question mark-shaped glitter for these? "Gnomes on our first day- then we don't see jack!"

"Maybe we fought the gnomes so well they told the rest of the forest to be scared of us?" Stan polished the body parts jars on the other side of the aisle. 

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit."

"Hey-" Stan kicked him in the shin. Ford kicked back without thinking, focused on trying to get all the snowglobes lined up perfectly. "Maybe we're just looking in the wrong places? It's only been three days since gnome-pocalypse."

"We're not calling it 'gnome-pocalypse'. It was only a hundred or so gnomes. An apocalypse would require at least a thousand." He was rounding down as well. 

"Fine. What are we gonna call it then?"

"Uh-" 

"So are you guys coming to the party tonight?" Carla interrupted as she came around the corner, her nametag pinned to the front of her pink shirt and a flower in her hair. 

"Party?" Ford looked at her, setting down the final snowglobe. 

"Yeah!" Carla beamed and did a little dance in place, hopping from one foot to the other. "It's at the high school gym- the local sheriff sets up one every month for all the teens and it's super fun. You should totally come and meet all my friends- it'll be awesome!"

Ford's breath caught in his throat, an indescribable mixture of wonder and excitement filling him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. A real invitation to a real party. They'd never had one before! And here Carla was, offering an invitation like they were normal . Like it didn't matter that Ford had six fingers and Stan had the school record for detentions. 

"Yeah, we'll definitely be there!" He blurted out immediately, unwilling to let the opportunity of a lifetime slip by. "Wow, this is so exciting- Stanley, our first party!"

"Have you… never been to a party before?" Carla's face fell. 

" Pfft - of course we have," Stanley jumped in, waving a hand. "He just means in Gravity Falls, yunno. Jersey parties are really different so-"

"Oh, totally. But get ready, a Gravity Falls party is gonna knock your socks off!" Carla was all smiles again. Ford could see the reason why Grunkle Dipper had her as a cashier, she had a very upbeat demeanour that seemed popular with the tourists. The way she talked to them, able to get them smiling and laughing and telling her stories about their travels, she made it look so easy. Like talking to people was easy. Ford wondered how she did it. 

Maybe if he asked, she'd let him observe and record her interactions for science?

"Earth to Sixer-" Stanley poked him in the face and Ford spluttered, swatting at his hand. "You okay in there?"

'I'm fine!" Ford looked around and adjusted his glasses. "Where'd Carla go?"

"A tour finished so she's gone to do her charm offensive on getting them to buy junk," Stan shrugged. "Are you sure you want to go to a party?"

"Yeah!" Was that even a question? "Don't you? Why did you lie to Carla? We've never been invited anywhere before."

"Listen, Fordsy," Stanley put an arm around his shoulders. "When people invite you to do stuff you haven't done, you gotta pretend you have, or else they'll think 'wow, what kinda losers are those guys, never going to parties'. You wanna be in the in-crowd, go along with the popular decision if you don't wanna stand out."

"How do you know that?" Ford scrunched his nose. It seemed unnecessarily complicated, wouldn't honesty be the best policy in any conversation?

"Just makes sense," Stan shrugged. "Now Carla won't be thinking, 'those guys must be lame', she'll be thinking we're cool dudes back home."

"But we're not?"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't say that." Stan patted his back. "Do you really wanna go?"

"Of course! This is a chance to meet the wider population of Gravity Falls, and I bet with all the anomalies in this area, I won't even be the weirdest thing anyone's seen today!" He'd always wanted to go to a party. Like a regular kid. Maybe Gravity Falls wasn't so bad. 

"You're not weird," Stan scowled. "If any of them give you trouble I'll hit them."

"Stanley, mom said one week. You still have three more days." Ford reminded him. 

"Blegh-" Stanley stuck out his tongue. "Now we just gotta convince Grunkle Dipper to let us go."

"Why would we need to convince him? Surely he'll understand how important this is to our preteen social development."

#

"Not a chance." Dipper didn't even look up from the pasta sauce he was stirring. 

"What?!" They yelled in unison, Ford looking like all his dreams crashed and burned and Stan slamming his hands on the kitchen table. He hid a wince. Toughen up, Stan. Be a man. 

"It's a cop party, no nephews of mine are going to a cop party." 

"Grunkle Dipper, do you have something against cops?" Stan had to ask.

"I didn't agree to more questions."

So the answer was a yes. Cool. 

"But Grunkle Dipper-" Ford whined. "We've never been to a party before and we told Carla we'd be there. Please?"

"Okay, here's the thing." Dipper turned around and pointed his pasta spoon at them, pajama pants and a threadbare sweater on. It was silly. It had a puppy on it. "Grenda throws these parties once a month for all the teens in town, and because everyone's kids are there, all the townsfolk treat it as a social event. It's loud, annoying, and seriously not worth your time."

"But we could be party rocking in the house tonight." Ford said it with all the sincerity in his soul and Stan wanted to know how his nerd of a brother had found out about songs that weren't from the 1700s or whenever.

"What?" Dipper's face scrunched before he shook it off and went back to mixing pasta sauce and spaghetti. "Let me explain: I don't 'like' or 'trust' most of the people in this town, and the feeling's pretty mutual. Why don't you just have a party here? This is a house, it can- it can 'party rock'."

"Can we invite people?" Ford perked up.

"No."

"Grunkle Dipper!"

Stan hid a snort-laugh as he watched, studying Dipper more so than Ford, head tilted to make sure he didn't miss anything. There had to be a magic word of some sort to get him to agree. He didn't trust the townspeople, hey?

"If you don't like anyone here-" he cut off Ford's rant about the 'psychosocial development of twelve-year-old brains' before it really got going- "then the smartest option is to bring us into town when everyone's gonna be there." Stan shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, playing up the casualness. 

Dipper looked at him with suspicion. "What's your game, kid?"

"That way you can point out who to avoid and who we should keep an eye on so we can recognise them. I mean, we're gonna need to go into town eventually, might as well get it over with."

"... Alright, that's not a bad point." Dipper nodded, brow furrowed. Stan gave him an absolutely angelic smile, well practiced for when mom busted out the camera for family photos, and Dipper's brows furrowed harder.

"So can we go? Carla invited us as well, it would look bad if we went back on our word. And you said you wanted us to have a good summer."

"Okay, okay, okay." Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, serving up three plates of spaghetti as he joined them at the table. "You can go, but if Sheriff Grenda asks about me, tell her I'm dead or whatever."

"Yes!" Stan punched the air. "Yes!"

"What?! How is that the conclusion of this?" Ford looked stunned, mouth hanging open.

"Your brother drives a hard bargain, kid," Dipper pointed with a plastic spork. All his cutlery was plastic and Stan thought it was weird, no metal, no forks. But  it was the durable, colourful kind used for camping. "Eat your pasta and we'll get this over with."

Stan shoveled the pasta into his mouth, enjoying the taste of victory. Whaddaya know, for once Stan got them the win. That was never gonna happen again.

#

Ford's excitement only grew as they drove into town, staring out the window and trying to see anomalies in the dark. Stan kicked the back of the empty passenger seat and tossed his head back with a groan. "Why are we listening to BABBA?" 

"Because I love this song." Grunkle Dipper turned it up a notch and sang along, badly. Ford winced at the falsetto of "Dis-co Girl! Coming through! That girl is you!"

"Get me outta here!" Stan's next kick used both feet. "If you're listening, save me, Paul Bunyan!"

"Calm down, Stanley, we're almost there!" Ford could see all the cars parked outside the high school, and a giant RV with GIDEON across the side that towered over everything else. "What's that?"

"First people in this town you need to avoid: Gideon Gleeful and his lil b-" Dipper growled, cutting himself off before continuing- "Bud Gleeful. Gideon's the worst, they're just a creepy pair. Just got back from touring America with their fake psychic act."

"Okay." A fake psychic. Just like their mom. Ford missed her, she promised she'd call every week but it didn't feel like enough. "Anyone else?"

"Preston Northwest is about your age and a piece of work?" 

"I thought you'd have more enemies." Stan grinned mischievously.

"Those are just the child ones." Dipper hooked an elbow over his seat and looked back as he reversed into a parking space, wearing one of the baseball caps from the gift shop with a pine tree logo. His denim jacket and pajama pants clashed terribly with his 'dog playing basketball' sweater. Ford hadn't seen him wear the same sweater twice, but they all looked decades old, handknitted, and far too irrational for him. Perhaps he had some ancient sweater collection?

"How many adult enemies are there?" Stan unclipped his seatbelt as the truck stopped. 

"Don't you have a party to go to?" Dipper waved a hand at them. "Have fun and don't die or something. I'll be here when you want to leave."

"Thanks, Grunkle Dipper!" They chorused and hopped out, Stan racing around to Ford's side of the truck. 

"You ready?" He took Ford's hand for a second, and Ford snatched it back, trying not to think about his hands. It was gonna be fine, this wasn't Jersey. People here would like him. 

"Race you in?" He offered instead, shoving his hands into his pockets just in case. 

"You're on." Stan grinned and took off. He might have been better at punching, but they were both pretty fast from a childhood of dodging bullies. Usually it was a tie. 

This time Ford got there first by mere seconds and paused, able to feel the thud of the music inside in his ribcage. Of course- soundwaves were physical, that only made sense. He was about to lift his hand from his pocket before hesitating. His first party. Did he want to start off with a bad impression?

Stan caught up and pushed open the door. "After you, Sixer."

Ford smiled gratefully at him, stepping in as the smell of dry ice and cheese flavouring hit him. The gym was big, all the bleachers tucked away, and while there was no disco ball, someone had set up projector lights that sent rainbow shapes and lazers everywhere. The room was surprisingly full, and Ford had a sinking feeling they arrived late. "Were we meant to be here earlier?"

"Don't worry- it's cool to arrive late, I heard." Stanley stuck by his side as they stood in the doorway. "Should we find Carla? She's the only person we know here, I think."

Ford had a thought. A bit of a mean thought. Did he want his first impression on people to be Stanley as well? Not that Stanley was bad, Ford loved his brother more than anything, but his nicknames might give people the wrong idea, and the other way around- Maybe Stan would want to meet people without having to talk for Ford as well?

"We can split up, do a sweep on each side, and meet on the other end of the gym." He felt guilty saying it, but he couldn't help being interested in what would happen if he made introductions on his own for once. It was an experiment. 

"See who spots her first so we can talk to her, good idea." Stanley nodded. "Race you there."

He took off through the crowd to the right, leaving Ford to his own business and taking the other. He didn't move as fast as Stanley, keeping his hands in his pockets as he avoided the major crowd and skirted the edges. His head swivelled like an owl's as he looked around, trying to see anyone who might be safe to talk to. 

He saw something sparking near the wall and immediately remembered the various dangers of electrical hazards, resolving to check it and report it to the nearest grown-up- oh, but if that was Sheriff Grenda, Grunkle Dipper said not to talk to her-

Ford didn't really want to do what Dipper said, but… what if he got angry at them for disobeying?

More sparks. He blinked, regaining his focus, and sped up, noticing they were tucked beside the folded bleachers, hard for people in the crowd to see, hidden by the fog of dry ice. 

There was someone there. Two someones. Ford drew closer, in time to see a blowtorch light up and be lowered to a piece of metal. 

"What are you doing?" He blurted out, the two teenagers looking at him. It was hard to make out clear details in the dark hall, but the one leaning against the wall held a plastic bag of sliced bread, and the boy on the floor had a welding visor over his face. 

"Hi there!" The boy stood and flipped his welding mask up, revealing round glasses, a thin face, a long nose, and a friendly smile. "I'm Fiddleford McGucket, local inventor."

"You're an inventor?" Ford smiled. "Me too! I mean- I'm branching out into the field, I'm currently working on a magnet gun."

"Well that sounds mathematically feasible, I reckon." Fiddleford offered a hand to shake, absolutely covered in bandages.

Ford stared at it. "Uh- won't that hurt if I touch it?"

"I've got an un-nat-ur-al-ly high tolerance to pain, doctors say," he laughed, singsonging each syllable in a playful Tennessee twang. "Don't mind the bandages, all from my thingamajig building."

Ford hesitated just a moment longer before he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook Fiddleford's hand.

"Why, that is a mighty fine case of polydactyly you got there." Fiddleford complimented. 

"Th- thanks." He stuttered, in utter shock. No one had ever actually complimented him on it before. Most people didn't even know the term. "You too- I mean- not polydactyly, just thanks?" 

"Thank you kindly, and this here's my friend, Tad."

"Hi, I'm Tad Strange." The deepness of the other boy's voice had Ford reeling. Was that natural? He looked barely older than Ford, with shiny black hair and very neat clothes. He had to be the most nondescript person Ford had ever seen. "Would you like some bread?"

"Uh- okay?" Ford took some of the offered bread. Plain white sliced, from a grocery store. Was he meant to eat this without anything on it? Well- okay, he could try. "Do you carry this everywhere?"

"Of course. It's my emergency bread."

"Oh. Cool?" It didn't seem normal, but maybe it was for Gravity Falls? His hypothesis was correct, he was an anomaly in a town of anomalies! He could fit in here! "I like your voice."

"Thank you." Tad smiled. Ford liked his diction, how deliberately he spoke, how even his voice was. It seemed so calm. "It broke when Tad Strange was seven."

"If we're talking about weird body things, I'm double-jointed?" Fiddleford offered and pulled out a pair of black goggles, a matching pair to the ones Tad had pushed up into his dark hair, hard to see. "Here, put these on, I'm working on improving Tad's phone. I reckon I can really spruce it up."

"Tad Strange would like jetpack capabilities." 

"Yeah! I'd love to help!" Ford's smile was so wide it hurt at the edges, so excited he feared he may explode. Not that it was scientifically possible. 

Was this how easy making friends could be? 

#

Stan plunged into the crowd like a superhero charged through henchmen, keeping his head cocked in case he heard Ford get in trouble. He had to be always ready for bullies, Ford could have all the hope he wanted, as long as Stanley protected him. 

He squinted through the dark, not able to see too much in the weird party lights, lots of pinks and blues and kinda dark. He didn't really like his glasses much when he had to wear them, they were nerdy and made bullies throw stuff at him. He could see most things anyway, just blurry, and as long as he could get the gist he could work with the rest. 'Sides, no point in him having glasses anymore, amount of fights he got in.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he swung without thinking, catching air. Carla's laugh was bright and cheery. "Easy, tiger! Didn't mean to surprise you."

"Sorry." Stan mumbled. He wasn't as noble as some of the boys back home, who didn't hit girls. Seemed insulting to Stan, if they wanted to fight they should get to fight. But Carla wasn't like the girls back home, he didn't want to hit her. 

"C'mon, my friends are this way." Carla took his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Her hand was warm around his, and she didn't even hesitate. Known him four days and still took his hand. Wow, she was nice.

She pulled him to the snacks table, piled high with chips and chocolates and one very big lady in a cop uniform serving punch. Carla let go of his hand and spun around to face him, her skirt twirling as the lazers made the sequin design on it sparkle, and Stan suddenly got why Shermie used to get so weird around girls. Holy Moses.

"Stanley Pines, meet my besties!" Carla gestured at the group. One girl was spinning in place with an eye closed, two boys were having a string cheese war that looked more like flirting than fighting, the other girl was filming, and the last boy was cheering everyone on. "That's Shandra, Susan, Daryl and Edwin, and Tyler! Everyone, this is Stan!"

"Hi." Stan nodded at them, getting a nod back from the girls and Tyler. 

"And- wait, where's your brother?" Carla looked worriedly at him. "Didn't he come?"

"Course he did! Just went to scope out some of the party," Stan played it off, even as he looked around. What if Ford was already getting picked on? "He'll catch up."

"Okay, cool!" Carla looked up over the crowd and brightened. Didn't seem possible but she managed it. "There's Bud! Hold on, I'll get him." She dove into the crowd again, leaving Stan with her friends and no idea what to do.

He grabbed a random bar of candy to eat to avoid having to make conversation, shoving it all in his mouth in one go. He accidentally made eye contact with the cop and looked away too fast. That was probably suspicious. What was it Grunkle Dipper said? Don't speak English to cops?

Carla came back to the group with a wave, her hand entwined with another boy's. "Okay everyone! I need to introduce you all to my new boyfriend, Bud Gleeful!"

Stan was real dumb. Shoulda seen that coming, obviously Carla had a boyfriend. Little weird that it was one of Grunkle Dipper's enemies, but it was Stan's own fault that he got all weird just because the prettiest, nicest girl he ever met thought he was worth being kind to. No point being disappointed because he got stupid. 

"What a delight to meet you all," Bud smiled cheerfully, his brown roots visibly showing through white hair dye. Stan turned his back and started eating more candy.

The other teens offered a chorus of uninterested 'hi's, still focused on their cheese fight. Looked like Blubs was winning, if the goal was to spray as much cheese as possible in his mouth? 

Stan was starting to get why Grunkle Dipper didn't bother with the town, he was not impressed so far. Except by Carla, but she worked in the Mystery Shack so she didn't count. 

"And who might you be, lil fella?" Bud drawled from behind Stan, which had his hackles up and his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Bud was twice his size, but so was Crampelter, and Stan had won that last fight. He wasn't weak and useless anymore, he wasn't the wimp that cried after just one hit, not now that he could fight.

He turned around, feet shifting into the stance from his boxing lessons as he looked up at the bigger teenager. "I'm Stan. Who wants to know?"

"Why, just 'lil ol me'-" he spoke it like a quote- "it's merely just- well, small towns, I tend to know near-everyone. But I don't recall seeing you here before."

"He and his twin are Dipper's nephews and they're in town for the summer," Carla smiled, clinging to Bud's arm. "They're here all the way from New Jersey, how cool is that?"

The other teens looked a bit more interested hearing that, looking at him like he was an oddity, something to gawk at. Was this how Ford felt? All the time? 

"Yeah, what about it?" 

"That's quite a distance," Bud whistled. "Would I be right in assuming you're staying in that old shack in the woods?"

"Where else would I stay, smart guy?" Stan mouthed off, focus narrowing to who else might be coming in for a sneak attack. Crampelter had friends, maybe Bud did too. "My Grunkle lives there."

"Yes, a so-called man of mystery," Bud clicked his tongue. "He's quite a shameless fraud, wouldn't you agree?"

"Coming from someone who's dad is a fake psychic?" Stan aimed for what would hurt, because it hurt when he thought about it. "What a liar, bet you can't trust anything he says."

Everyone gasped. But they didn't know. He loved his mom so much, so much , but she lied so much, just because, even when there was no reason. She didn't mean any harm, but… 

"Hey now, that's not true!" Bud snapped, getting angry, and Stan regretted saying anything when he saw the look on Carla's face. She looked at him like he said something bad. He did say something bad. He was a bad kid, everyone knew it. 

What was he doing? He was ruining the party, he was making everyone upset, and Ford wasn't here, Stan needed him and he wasn't here, and why did he instantly make it a fight? Because Dipper said not to trust someone?  What was wrong with him?!

He had to get out of here. He pulled a smoke bomb from his pocket and hoped and prayed he got it right- got something right- and threw it at the ground. 

It shattered with a flash and a POP! and sent up a cloud of smoke and sparkles that had everyone coughing, and Stan bolted. 

He ran, sticking to the walls and the shadows, passing a supply closet as he looked for Ford. Where was his brother? 

He was rounding the bleachers when he heard Ford laughing. At what? He slowed his steps, peeking around the corner to see Ford holding a blowtorch and soldering something, laughing and talking with two other boys. He looked like he was having a great time. Without Stanley.

Stan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, fists clenched tight and shaking with that energy he got in fights. Ford had some sciency name for it that Stan couldn't remember right now. 

Ford was fine. He found people who liked him. Just like he wanted. Stan was tempted to go over there and say hi- but if Ford wanted that wouldn't he have come and got Stanley? Ford always wanted to show off cool things he found, he dragged Stanley all over Glass Shard Beach, so this must mean Ford didn't want to show off his new friends. 

Stanley could take a hint. Heck- Ford would probably be better off with friends who were smart like him. Stan just caused trouble, everyone knew it. 

He backed away, genuinely considering sneaking out to go sit with Grunkle Dipper. Even if that meant listening to girly pop music. 

Actually-

Nah. Still not desperate enough for that. He still wasn't sure if Grunkle Dipper even wanted them around, Shermie had been the one to push for the trip. Even brought the bus tickets. 

Everyone else kept making decisions and Stan kept having to deal with them. He scowled and found the supply closet again, because at least Carla and Bud wouldn't find him in here if they wanted to get mad at him for causing problems. 

He closed the door behind him and shoved over the nearest thing, sending janitor supplies clattering to the ground as he yelled, just to get the energy out. "I never even wanted to come here! Ford did, not me!" 

He turned and punched the drywall. "I hate stupid parties!"

The drywall cracked. Cracked more. Fell away to reveal a big boxy safe hidden behind the plaster, rusted and covered in dust and cobwebs. Stan had a suddenly cold feeling, a looming sense that he'd done something very stupid. 

A girl's voice whispered in his ear.

"Me too."

#

The screaming started as Dipper chewed a pen, brainstorming new attractions for the track. He caught the smell of ectoplasm in the air, able to recognise it instantly, and shoved open the door to his truck, sprinting towards the gym as a pale glow began to surround the building. 

He could hear the panic of the townsfolk,  his focus set on the door as he raced the ghostly energy, trying to get in before it cut off the gym from the outside world. The boys were still in there.

"No, no, no, no-!" The ectoplasm covered the door right as he reached it, the handle chilling his fingers as he failed to yank it open. He kept trying to jiggle it open before he switched to banging his fists against the glass. "Kids!"

"My lil Buddy-boy!" He heard from behind him, Gideon Gleeful running in his bedazzled suit, his white pompadour bouncing with each step of his wingtip shoes.  Dipper ignored him and braced his shoulder against the door, trying to shove it open. Now wasn't the time to start fighting his nemesis. Maybe? He could multitask.

"Hold on, son!" Gideon panicked before turning to the crowd, hand on his bolo tie. "Everyone, please! I need you all to step back and let me use my psychic abilities! Step back, everyone!"

Dipper felt himself step back before he could snap at Gideon to back off, watching Gideon raise his hand to the building.

"Spirit! I compel thee! Release our children and be banished from this place!" Gideon's voice boomed out bombastically, bringing his TV psychic bravado to the real world.

Nothing happened.

Obviously.

"Oh no! Something's blocking my powers! My innate abilities! That I definitely have!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper snarled and pulled a glove from his pocket, yanking it on as he stomped to the door. "Hey, ghost! Open up!" 

He drew back his fist and punched the door, the ectoplasmic coating jiggling like jello before it started to wobble faster, energy building up. Bad sign.

Dipper had enough time to swear for real before the ghost blasted him away from the building and into darkness.

#

One minute Ford was helping solder an ignition wire, the next the walls were glowing and tables and chairs were floating in the air. Snacks were flying, aimed at people's heads as screams filled the air, and Tad had to struggle to hold onto his bread as it threatened to fly away too. 

"What's happening?" Fiddleford clutched his hands together, rubbing at his spindly fingers. The rest of the party were freaking out, some rushing the doors, others trying to hide, some freezing in fear. 

Ford? Ford felt alive . This was it, the weirdness he knew was here. 

"Hold on, I may have an answer-" but the diary was so uncool-looking, what if his new friends didn't want to be his friends because of it? 

"Ford!" That was Stanley! "Ford, Ford, Ford!"

"Over here!" He responded without hesitation, because that was his brother calling and Ford would always answer. 

Stan rounded the bleachers and skidded to a stop, worn sneakers nearly losing traction on the smooth gym floors. His eyes were wide and he almost looked scared. Couldn't be true though, Ford had documented Stan's phobias and fear responses. Paranormal activity wasn't meant to register. "It's bad! It's really bad!"

"Wait-" Ford adjusted his glasses. "Stanley, did you do this?"

"I didn't plan on it, Sixer!" Stan flipped a switch into anger, shoulders hunched defensively. "I think it's a girl! I heard a voice!"

"A voice? So not only is this clearly paranormal activity of some form, but it's aware enough to manifest vocals and self-identify? Fascinating!"

"Uh, Ford? Who's this?" Fiddleford tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh!" He'd completely forgotten they were there, so caught up in the supernatural. "Fiddleford, Tad, this is my twin brother, Stanley. Stanley, these are my friends, Fiddleford and Tad."

"Hi. I'm Tad Strange. I like bread."

"Yeah, great to meetcha, the nerd book , Ford, what does it say ?" Stan made a swipe for Ford's jacket, where he knew the book was. 

Ford backed up. "I don't- I haven't looked yet!"

"Why not?!"

"Because-" laughter, vicious and dark, rang out around the room, and Stan whirled, hand out like he was protecting Ford and his friends. Ford stared as Carla lifted into the centre of the room, her eyes glowing white from within and her arms outstretched.

She spoke with a voice that wasn't hers. "Sixty years I've watched you all party! Now tonight will be your last!"

"Hey!" Sheriff Grenda stomped forward and pointed at her. "You're under arrest for possession! Get outta that teenager!"

"Adults," the ghost scoffed, crossing Carla's arms. "You threw this party? Then I'll throw you!"

Carla pointed as Grenda was enveloped in pale light before she seemed to- rip apart? But it looked wet? But there was also no blood or anything, her matter was just rearranged? That was so cool! Oh- and bad too, right.

"Sheriff!" 

"Where did she go?"

"It turned her into a disco ball!"

It had. Ford had never seen a disco ball with a face before. He wanted to take so many notes.

"Back behind the bleachers, c'mon!" Fiddleford dragged both the twins to the corner he and Tad were hiding in, sitting them down as they hid in the shadows. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but the panicking crowd likely drew more attention. 

"Poindexter!" Stanley grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You gotta focus! How do we stop this?"

"Okay." He pulled out the diary and started flipping through, face burning. He hoped Fiddleford and Tad didn't laugh at the sparkliness of it. "Ghosts, ghosts, I know I saw something- here!"

He cleared his throat and began reading the sticker-covered page, googly eyes pasted onto a drawing of a happy ghost.

"Dear diary,

I fought a ghost today! It was crazy! He was really cute, definitely dreamy, but he was also a major meanie who wanted to destroy town, so dateability: questionable. 

Good thing I saw some of her ghost hunting tapes, otherwise I wouldn't have kicked ghostly butt! I bet this one would have counted as a Category 5, so kind of a ghost wimp. Lemme list the categories before I forget! Womp womp!"

Ford scanned through the categories before he found it. "This must be it! 'Category 8: Haunted Buildings- these ghosts are stuck in one place and make reality go all whoa! But they can't actually hurt people permanently and you can totally work things out with them by talking about their feelings, awwwwww' and then there's a heart drawn in? And people hugging?"

"We're all gonna die," Stan decided. 

"Stan, you have to tell me how this happened. Maybe there's a clue there."

"I just hit a wall." Stan shrugged, looking away. "Same as always."

"Perhaps we should ask the ghost what it wants?" Tad offered as a solution, looking abnormally calm while Fiddleford was having a silent freak out next to him, rocking back and forth and carding his hands through his hair. Ford felt a bit bad to see him so nervous, he must not have encountered an anomaly before. 

"I think it's pretty easy to tell what the ghost wants, Strange." Stan snarked.

"I WILL DESTROY ALL THE PARTY SPIRIT THAT HAS EVER EXISTED!"

"Yeah, that bit's obvious," Ford agreed. "It says that Category 8s aren't unreasonable, so maybe we can convince it to leave everyone alone?"

"We have to get it out of Carla," Stan agreed and took Ford's hand. Ford blinked at him in surprise. Stan must have really been scared, they hadn't held hands in a while. His fingers were trembling. 

Ford didn't let go this time. Not if Stanley needed it. He squeezed his twin's hand and pulled them both out of hiding, the room nearly empty from everyone being turned into party favours and posters and stuff. Carla's body floated, items swirling around her like a tornado, her flower missing from her hair. 

"Hey, ghost!" Ford yelled as he and Stan stepped up. "We wanna talk!"

"Oh?" Carla's body raised a hand and they were both floating. Ford felt Stanley's hand go tight in a death grip, hard enough to hurt. His fear of heights, Ford had to do something. The ghost continued, making Carla's face angry in a way that didn't look right. "What do you possibly have to say? Here to defend parties like everyone else?"

"I- we wanted to ask why you're unhappy!" Ford blurted out. "We want to try fix it!"

"How can you fix it? You were invited to this party like everyone else, I bet you've been to lots of them, everyone has! Everyone but me!"

"No we haven't!" Ford tried to convince her. "Tell her, Stanley!"

"I-" Stan's eyes were scrunched shut, face pale and sweaty. "We haven't! Look at us, we're losers! Who'd invite us anywhere?!"

Everything in the gym stopped spinning. Then it all crashed to the ground, Stan and Ford included. Stan immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the floor, while Ford landed a little steadier. He placed a hand on Stanley's back and looked up at Carla, or, more accurately, at the ghost that had appeared, holding Carla up by the shoulders.

She looked like a normal teenager in retro clothes, just with thick glasses like Ford. 

"You're losers like me? But you don't look like it!"

Ford held up his hand and wiggled his six fingers. "I'm definitely a loser. And my brother…"  they both looked at Stanley, currently muttering 'sweet Moses, I love you ground'. 

"But if you're losers, then why are you at a party?" She scowled and adjusted her glasses. "Especially when one of you hates them."

"Huh?" Ford looked at Stanley, feeling betrayed. Stanley didn't like parties? But he was the one who convinced Grunkle Dipper, and said they'd been to lots to Carla, and-

And, Ford suddenly remembered, dodged the question about wanting to go in the first place.

"Stanley?"

Stanley looked away and swiped his nose with his wrist brace. "Whatever. So what if I do?" He pointed at the ghost. "Why do you hate them?"

The ghost gave a very big sigh and Ford braced for backstory. "No one in this town ever invited me to anything."

"Even all of the parties that were meant for everyone, I would get an anti-invitation. An unvitation ." The ghost floated just above the ground, looking sad.  "So one day, I decided that I would ignore my unvitation and go to a party meant for everyone."

She tilted her head. "Unfortunately, that party was to celebrate Gravity Falls' Annual Heavy Object Tossing Competition, and a safe landed right on me."

"That can not be a real thing-"

"It's real!" Sheriff Grenda, in disco ball form, yelled out. "I've won it eight years in a row!"

"Okay…?" Ford shook his head, resolving to ignore that. "So you've been here ever since?"

"Yes. I've watched people party for sixty years here!" The ghost began to turn red and catch fire. "And still! No invitations!"

"What if we invited you?" Ford offered.

"Or Carla!" Stan blurted out. "Carla over there, you just possessed her. She's super nice and will invite anyone. She invited us, for cryin' out loud."

"Oh. Okay." The ghost floated over to Carla, sitting on the floor staring blankly into the middle distance, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hi Carla! Can I come to this party?"

"Uh…" Carla looked over at them, frazzled and ruffled. Ford nodded as hard as he could while Stan gave her very emphatic thumbs up. Carla looked back to the ghost. "Sure...?"

"Great!" The ghost snapped her fingers and everything went right back to normal. People turned back into people, Grenda was no longer a disco ball, and the music started up again. "I've always wanted to go to a party! Whoo-hoo!"

"Can I ask you a million questions about being a ghost?!" Ford asked now that the danger was gone, pulling out a spare notepad and pencil, not noticing Stan walk off.

#

Stan picked up Carla's plastic flower and held it out to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure?" Carla accepted the flower, putting it in her hair. "I think my whole worldview just changed."

"Yep." Stan hesitated, fidgeting with his wrist brace. "I'm sorry I said mean things to Bud."

"Oh. Well- thanks, but I think you need to apologise to him, okay?" Carla smiled at him and stood up, brushing off her skirt.

Stan nodded and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "I will."

"Thanks. You're a good kid, Stan." She patted his shoulder. "And for the record: I don't think you're a loser, you or your brother. Jersey doesn't know what they got."

"Kay." Stan agreed because how was he meant to argue that? Not when Carla was smiling at him like she believed it, like she wasn't so cool. "Thanks, Carla."

"Carla!" Bud shoved through the crowd, flowery shirt looking a bit rumpled. "Are you alright, dearest-darlingest?"

"I'm fine, really!" Carla beamed, taking Bud's hands. "Stan and Ford saved me."

"I can see that." Bud shot Stan a filthy look. 

"Hey, Bud." Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, having to drag the words out of himself. He didn't like apologising much. Usually it didn't help things. 

"Can I help you, Stanley?" He made it sound utterly frigid. 

"Sorry for what I said about your dad and stuff. It was mean." Stan looked away, looking at Ford, who was introducing the ghost to Strange and McGucket. At least he was having fun. 

"I… suppose I'm also sorry about what I said about your great uncle. It was uncalled for." Bud tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Perhaps we should call a truce?"

"Sure. Truce." Stan stuck out his hand, too late realising it was his braced hand. 

Bud took it, squeezing way too hard and making the bones hurt. Stan didn't flinch and dug his nails in as an answer. 'Truce'. Sure. When Carla was around, at least.

"Yay!" Carla did a happy dance. "The power of friendship wins again!"

They both put on a smile for her, immediately shooting daggers at the other the moment she wasn't looking. Looked like they'd be hating each other in secret. Stan could live with that.

"I'm gonna go check on my brother." Stan yanked his hand back and walked off, already sick of Bud Gleeful. He was joining his Grunkle's rivalry on the side of his Grunkle. 

#

They found their Grunkle Dipper snoring in the back of his pick-up truck, having one of those old people naps he usually had in his armchair. Ford poked his face with a pencil, not expecting him to bolt upright and immediately fall out of the truck with a surprisingly girly scream.

"Augh! Dipper down! Dipper down!"

"Grunkle Dipper, we met a ghost!" Surely he saw the building glow, right? He'd believe Ford now!

"Huh?" Dipper rubbed his head, accidentally showing off the birthmark on his forehead of the Big Dipper constellation. He picked up his cap and set it down, blinking blearily up at Stan and Ford. "You what a what?"

"Met a ghost. Fought her, invited her to a party, whole shebang," Stan yawned. "Can we go home now?"

"I made friends!" Ford already had so many plans. "Can they come over for a sleepover tomorrow? They already called their parents and asked!"

"Sure and sure?" Dipper dusted off his pajamas, surprisingly dirty for a nap in his truck, and Ford noticed something.

"What's that glove?"

"Glove?" Dipper looked down before he noticed the blue glove on his right hand. He made a weird face before he pulled it off. "Uh, it's a- a compression glove? Yep! That thing! For my old man arthritis. Flares up sometimes. 'Cause I'm old."

"Aren't you fifty-seven?"

"I'm whatever age a senior's discount at the movies is," Dipper snarked, and Ford scowled. That felt sorta illegal. Definitely unethical.

"I like your moxie, Grunkle Dip," Stan complimented as he clambered out of the back of the truck. "So did you see any of that?"

"Any of what? I've been sleeping." Dipper blinked innocently.

"Oh, come on!" Now Ford really had to find proof of the supernatural. Time to build a gnome trap.

He reached for Stanley's hand again, resolving to talk to him later about stuff. Stanley squeezed his hand back, smiling at him before he yawned again. 

Ford yawned in response. Okay. Tomorrow. They'd talk tomorrow. Stanley shouldn't have to feel like he needed to hide things, not from his brother. 

Mystery twins forever, after all.

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 221 Trivia

I hope you like Stanley, because this is mostly about Stanley.

Once again we have Stanley represented as the knight. Sure Xeno was his original princess (even if he denies it), but now his princess seems to be the rocket.

Will Stanley get a fairy tale ending?

Xeno obviously wants to keep up his act as a villain, but Ryusui is denying him the privilege.

Stanley's original criteria for revival were loosely based on society being up and running, which is now the case as Ryusui mentions here. Like they'd agreed earlier, what Stanley did was considered justifiable acts of warfare and thus they trust him as a soldier.

Stanley and Xeno are both said to be 180 cm tall on their character files, yet in this picture there's clearly a height difference.

Obviously, the only explanation for this is so that Stanley could fondly tilt Xeno's head up towards him in the following pages.

Stan's new outfit makes him look less imposing and inhuman than his previous one, and instead mimics the buttons on the the front of a double-breasted military jacket.

The double "V" of his belt buckles could be the zig-zag of the American clothing, or it's two halves of an X.

(Conspiracies for the belt buckle, don't take these seriously:

a marker that he's loyal to Xeno

a simplification of the current KoS crossed-rockets flag

V + V = X

"V" for victory)

Stanley's scar is still here, but it's changed slightly: the line across the bridge of his nose is gone.

However it may fully disappear soon, since he'll be petrified on the rocket. This change will likely mark his atonement.

This is a brand new lighter based off the one Stanley had before they got petrified. For most of the Americas arc he simply used matches, apart from the "gag" lighter that looks like his handgun.

The math checks out.

This is, in fact, Stanley and Senku's first conversation (if you can even call this one).

Before now, Senku's never allowed Stanley to get close enough, and they never communicated directly over the radios either.

All Ryusui has wanted since he was a child was to make one of his models a reality and to pilot it himself, along with the help of his brother Sai.

Now, he's forced to sacrifice that dream for the greater good.

Sai knows this, which is why he's shown in the same room Ryusui was (across the table from him? In the same seat? It doesn't seem to be the same window, but the rocket is aligned the same.)

It looks like Stan does say the exact same thing: "dekiru ne", which literally translates to "I can". The "ne" at the end is used as a form of agreement, similar to saying "right?" in English. I sort of wish it was translated the same...