#you're almost 60 SURELY you know better by now

[sjweminem]

costas mandylor have a hairstyle that i don't absolutely fucking despise challenge

[ckret2]

Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I—it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done:

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea.  We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better. 

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

[mlyscha]

SIDEWALK THEORY ✦ P.SUNGHOON

𝓼ynopsis. in which the sidewalk theory is proven to be true by your boyfriend, making your heart flutter. 𝓹airing. p.sunghoon x female!reader 𝓰enre. tooth rotting fluff. 𝔀arnings. not proofread, english is not my 1st language, reader is kind of annoying and amelie is out of creativity tbh ( ;´ - `;). 𝔀𝓬. 93O. 𝓶asterlist.

♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: remember when i was thanking you guys for the 60+ followers... we are close to hit 100, WHAT?! thank you guys <3 ya'll are truly amazing (,,>﹏<,,) i also wanted to mention that i mainly use british english but i wrote pavement as sidewalk because i like this word better, you can judge me...

sunghoon loves you from the bottom of his heart. he is in fact so deep in love that he recently begun to create possible scenarios that could include you and him in the future ━ such as marriage.

okay, let's just not go that far. i might emphasise that, if you are expecting him to show affection in front of others or constantly do so in a daily basis, your fate is to be frustrated. the thing is that he just doesn't feel like doing it to prove his love for you. still, it's not like he has no necessity to kiss you, or hug you and all. he simply think different than most of people.

one of the things sunghoon figured out since he begun to fall in love with you and date you is that: protecting means loving, safety means forever. with that being said, he mainly prioritise protecting you more than everything; because, safety means forever, right? and he wants you to be his forever because he loves you ━ and loving means protecting.

also, since he was a little boy his mum taught him how to be a gentleman, and you can confirm your mother-in-law did a great job at it. sunghoon is just so polite, respectful, always respecting your boundaries ━ but still acting like that characteristic playfulness of a young boy when he feels acting like it.

talking about his mum's teaching, i might mention one thing that he learned, said his mum back then: "if someone you love is in this part of the sidewalk" she reefers to the part closer to the street. "and you want to keep them safe, make sure to switch places with them ━ just like i am doing with you." little sunghoon checks which part of the pavement he was walking on. "see? you're away from the danger of the streets, you know why?" "because you love me...?" "right! good boy!" ━ sunghoon from the future might not even remember this little lesson his mum taught him a long ago, but it glued to his mind until it became a normal thing to do.

now, dating this amazing man for almost two years, the sidewalk theory became your roman empire. you heard about this theory on tiktok, and from that point, you never felt the same way. i mean, since both of you were just friends he always did that, however, it was never that deep, you know? and since the beginning of your relationship you've never really figured this thing out.

so, nowadays, going out with your boyfriend is something else. sometimes you just want to feel that giddiness one more time, asking for a midnight walk to the convenience store with him, just to see him unconsciously touching your shoulders and gently switching places with you ━ and eat an ice cream. that scenario actually became kind of usual, but never failing to make you feel the same special way.

"hoon...?" you called his name hesitantly, not wanting to ruin his sleepy state since it was late. "baby?"

"mhm..." he groaned.

"can i ask you one thing?"

"mhm,"

"why do you do that?"

"mhm?"

"that, sunghoon, you know what i'm talking about!" you whispered-yelled, looking up to check on him, being met with his closed eyes and frowned brows.

"mhm-hm..." he denied.

"come on... you know? the sidewalk thing?"

"what sidewalk thing?" he spoke with a groggy voice.

"you know, when you switch sides with me..."

"i do it?"

"yeah!" you saw his right eye peaking at you, then closing again.

"mhm," sunghoon took a deep breath before asking: "what about it?"

"why do you do that?"

"i don't know," he shrugged. "may i ask why...?"

"because i like it..." you replied, admitting.

"why?"

"is cute,"

"mhm..." a cheeky grin was held in by him.

"why are you trying to hold that smile, mr. sidewalk?"

"hey!" his cute giggle echoed and that big grin found its way to escape. "don't call me that..."

"huh? want me to call you what then?" you teased, feeling his hold onto your waist gently tighten and his head snuggle onto the crook of your neck. "oh... someone's feeling a little clingy today, mhm?" his touch immediately went away. "noooo~ come back, mr. clingy man!"

"okay, stop this, don't call me those names,"

"i asked you which name would you want me to call you, mr. grumpy man..."

"call me baby, okay?! call me darling, sweetie even cupcake, i don't care," your boyfriend spoke impatiently. "now let me sleep, woman."

"eh? woman?"

"baby... baby, let your boyfriend rest, 'kay?"

"okay, you can sleep..." you squinted your eyes. "call me woman one more time and you'll be called mr. dumped man!"

bonus scene! ★

"[...] and i told her! but then she was like: "i don't know about any of that bullshit", and i was like-"

"yeah, right," casually, sunghoon places his hands on both of your shoulders and move you to the other side of the sidewalk. "...and then?" noticing you subtle silence, he continued, wanting to know about what was going on with your friend.

"um... and i was like..."

"you were like...?"

"you did it again!"

"you told her that?"

"no! you did this again," you looked down at the pavement.

"paid attention? what?" poor sunghoon, got confused about what you meant.

"the sidewalk thing!" you were trying to make him figure out what you were talking about a few days ago.

"oh? did i?" he checked himself, slowly figuring it out.

"yes, you did," you nodded while smiling.

holding a big smile, he scrunched his nose and cleaning his throat. "anyway, tell me what you really told her then, baby."

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆

[stairain]

The Chase.

Getting pulled over wasn't exactly your plan for a Friday night, but getting pulled over by a hot officer just might be.  

Warnings: Hard Dom Spencer, Police Officer Spencer, strong power dynamic, primal play (being chased, predator/prey), handcuffs, doggy style, car sex, degradation, slapping, cum swallowing, hair pulling, blowjob.

WC: 4.8K 

You knew you had been speeding, but you still couldn’t help the groan that left your lips when flashes of red and blue approached behind you and beckoned you to pull over.

You silently sat in your car as a tall policeman came up to your window, knocking on it. With a fake polite smile, you lower the window.

“Good evening, Officer.”

The man looks serious, not unlike yourself. He has kind eyes, but looks serious, as if this is the thousandth car he's had to pull over.

"Evening. Could you explain why you were driving 60 in a 45 miles-per-hour zone?"

You sigh and shake your head, looking up at the man with a faux innocent look.

“I-I didn’t even notice, my apologies, officer.”

He looks back down at you with an unamused look, and crosses his arms over his chest. 

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that more times than you could imagine. License and registration, please."

You sigh and roll your eyes when you’re facing away from him as you reach into the glovebox and take out your wallet.

The officer takes the documents and goes back to his car. You have a moment to yourself: your mind wanders as you look out the window, waiting for him to come back.

You hadn’t taken the time to really get a good look at him, considering you were far too annoyed that you had been pulled over. But as he walks away, you admire the strong physique of his body.

And once he walks back up to your car, a small smirk creeps onto your face when you realize how attractive he is.

Your expression must give you away, because he returns your smirk with a slight, amused smile of his own.

"Is there something funny?" he asks, handing your documents back to you, his tone still a little teasing.

You take them from his hands and brush your fingers against his purposely.

“Don’t you have anything better to be doing tonight? Or is pulling me over your definition of a fun Friday night?”

Your voice is teasing and there’s a mischievous smile on your face as you put your wallet away.

His amusement grows, and he raises an eyebrow. You're enjoying yourself.

"I'm just doing my job, ma'am," he says. "There have been a lot of reports of people speeding near here, so I'm just looking out for the safety of the community."

You tilt your head to the side and bite your lip as you look at him.

“You think I’m dangerous?” There’s a short moment of silence, before you speak to him again, your voice a little lower this time. “Don’t think I’m a good girl?”

"Well, your speeding certainly put you on the radar. As for the other one, well, you tell me." He winks, and then leans a little closer. "I'm going to give you a pass this time. Just... don't do it again, alright?" He's clearly enjoying this. He seems to like your style. 

A small huff leaves you in amusement, and you lean to rest your forearms over the opened window. 

“Why? Don’t wanna see me again?”

You catch him off-guard. He pauses, not expecting such a flouncy response.

“You certainly know how to make an impression." He says, his voice more serious. He's not sure how to proceed. He seems.. Intrigued.

“And what’s that?”

The officer’s gaze never leaves yours, and you can see the look in his eyes darkening the more he stares down at you. 

"Just someone who knows how to get herself in trouble." He grins. "Now run along. Or I'll have to arrest you."

You quirk a brow and lean further on the ledge, getting closer to him and looking up at him with those wide eyes of yours.

“Threatening me with a good time, Officer..?”

Your voice trailed off.

The grin on his face grows and takes his badge out of his pocket. 

“Officer Reid.”

He tucks it back away and almost regrets telling you the second he does. You could’ve been an undercover cop, reporting back his superiors that he’s trying to fuck every person he pulls over for speeding. 

"Are you trying to get arrested?" He knows this isn't how he's supposed to handle the situation, but he's enjoying it, and he's enjoying you. "Because I can put you in the back of a cop car right now.”

You bite your lip and look back at his car parked behind you. The lights still flickering, bright colors flashing against your skin as the evening sky only adds to it. When you look back to him, you grin.

“Never been in one before, Officer.”

Spencer chuckles a little. "Is that your way of asking me to do that?" You're teasing him now; you're flirting with him, and he knows it.

"You're a funny one," he says, "and you seem like you'd put up a fight." He raises an eyebrow. "Am I correct?"

You shrug, sitting back into your seat.

“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem, you seem like you don’t like it easy.”

He smiles, but not fully.

"And you seem like someone who likes to push boundaries."

He's not afraid of you. Actually, he's intrigued.

"What do you get up to when you're not speeding?" He asks, his tone a little teasing again.

With a cocky tone in your voice, you let out a light chuckle.

“Put me in the back of your car and maybe you’ll get a hint.”

The man’s eyebrows raise in surprise at your forwardless, and lets out a laugh of his own.

"Oh, you are trouble, aren't you?" He leans closer, closing some of the distance between you. As he looks down at you, the fire in his eyes looks borderline animalistic. "But I think I like that."

You unbuckle your belt, almost making a show out of how your fingers press the release button and seductively pull the belt away from your body.

“You think?”

He notices your body language and watches as your fingers undo that belt. When the buckle is released he leans even closer. He's attracted to you. A lot.

"I know."

His tone grows more serious. He's not sure if he should do it. It's unprofessional as hell, but god does he really want to.

You unlock the car, and the loud clicking rings through both of your ears. The noise almost confirmation for how much you want this.

“Then what’re you gonna do about it, Officer?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips, and then your body and then back up at your face. Without saying another word, he takes out his handcuffs.

“Ma’am, please step out of the vehicle with your hands behind your back.” 

You look up in thought for a moment, before crossing your hands over your chest and nonchalantly lean back against the seat of your car.

“No thanks.” 

"No thanks?" 

Your resistance sends a thrill through him, but it's a double-edged sword. He likes that you're fighting back. A lot. But he also has to do his “job”.

"Are you refusing a lawful order?"

He lets his voice carry with it the insinuation of a threat. A small, evil smile appears on his face. 

“Maybe I am.”

He doesn't want you to run, but he kind of does want that, too. You're so unpredictable in the best way possible.

“Ma’am, I’m going to ask you one more time. Please step out of the vehicle.”

When you stay silent and don’t move, he’s suddenly reaching his arm into your car and unlocking the car himself. You bite your lip when he grabs you by your arm and drags you out of the car, pressing you against it with him standing behind you.

His arm is tight on your arm, restraining you, but not painfully. He's gentle enough, but firm. He stands close to you, looming over your head as you're pressed against the car. You can smell him, his cologne, and you can feel him. You can feel the warmth of his chest against your back, and the telltale bulge in his pants.

"Now, are you willing to do what I say?"

He asks, his voice low and predatory. The threat in his tone is clear. So is his intent.

“Never.”

Your voice is tempting and defiant as you try to look back at him where your head is pressed against the cold metal of the car door.

"Then I have no choice."

One hand holds your arm behind your back, and the other places cuffs around your wrist. He locks them up with a loud clicking.

"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.." He recites the Miranda rights, but you sense that he's not really doing this by the book.

A downright dirty smirk forms on your face as you feel the harsh metal of the cuffs being fastened around your wrists, and you’re not listening to a word he says as he walks you back to his car.

Spencer opens the door of his car and forcefully pushes you inside before slamming the door in your face. You hear him get inside the driver's seat, his door shutting with a thud.

"You'll really try to make this difficult for me, won't you?" he says, but he's not mad. Not even a little bit. Your stubbornness was oddly arousing to him, a sense of responsibility to put you in your place washed over him the more he was in your presence. 

“You like a challenge, do you not, officer?”

You hold your hands behind your back, trying to fidget with them in a fleeting attempt to break free and stare at him through his rear view mirror.

"I do. Very much."

He starts up the car, puts it in gear, and then drives off. He smiles back at you, a predatory little smile adorning his features. His eyes stay on the road, but his attention is on you, watching you. Watching everything you do. 

The sky around you suddenly darkens as he pulls onto a dirt road, trees surrounding the car as he drives further into the woods.

There are no streetlights, and it's pretty dark. The only light was the blinding headlights of his cop car, flashing against the foreboding looking trees that surrounded the both of you. You've gone way past the edge of town, you've gone way off the road you were once on.

After a few more minutes of aimless driving, he parks the car and gets out. He goes around the car, pulling you out of the backseat and pushing you, roughly now, against one of the trees. 

A loud gap leaves you as the air is forced out of your body with the way he’s pressing up against you. The rough bark rubs against your bound hands, making you wince. You swallow and look up at his eyes full of lust and hunger as he stares back down at you.

His eyes are burning with something you can barely describe.

"You really don't like to be told what to do, do you?" He asks, and there's no more amusement in his tone. He's deadly serious.

"But you've managed to get yourself in trouble." His face is close to yours, and his body's pressing you against the tree. His arms are around you, his hands caressing your jaw.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as adrenaline and arousal flow through your bloodstream. As he gets closer to you, an evil smile crosses your face and you slip out of his hold, running from him.

"If you think you can outrun me, go ahead," He says as he lets you scurry off. He knew you wouldn’t be able to get away from him.

With a laugh, he gives chase. You move fast, but he's faster. You know you can't beat him in a sprint. He's not even out of breath.

You keep running as he chases you, and you're starting to get breathless. You keep looking back as you go. He's catching up. You can feel him practically breathing down your neck: he's getting closer.

When you no longer hear his footsteps behind you, you’re panting heavily and lean your back against a large tree. You tried to quiet down your heaving, as to not give yourself away.

Being chased by him like you were nothing but prey to him was turning you on beyond belief. You loved the chase. As you leaned up against the tree, you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together, biting your lip to contain the moan that threatened to escape you. 

Spencer catches up, but you don't hear him approaching until he appears from behind. You turn your head towards where you hear him, but the second you crane your neck, he's right in front of you, and he pins you against the tree. 

His arms are around your waist, holding your body tight. He's breathing a little hard, but his eyes are nothing short of predatory. His expression is dark and dangerous.

"You really, really should've listened." He doesn't seem the least bit angry. He sounds calm and mocking, as if taunting you.

"Now, what should I do with you?"

Your mouth goes dry when you try to respond, but then he’s quickly throwing you over his shoulder with no trouble at all.

A small yelp leaves your mouth and you begin to thrash in his hold. You scratch at his uniform and weakly hit his back, but he just continues to walk back to his car, ignoring your attempts to free yourself.

You're helpless. You have no power. No control. He just carries you back to his car, his grip iron-solid on your waist. You're completely at his mercy.

The bright white lights of his headlights shine through the dark trees as he approaches his car. With a grunt, he forcefully slams your body down against the hood of his car, bending you over and having you entirely at his will to do anything. With your hands cuffed, there’s not much you can do as he stands behind you, pressing his body into yours.

“Fuck..” You whimper out.

You're bent over the hood, pressed against the cold metal. He's close to you, so close. You can feel the heat of his body and hear his quickened breath. The smell of his cologne is near unbearable. You're vulnerable, completely at his mercy, and you love it. You’re beyond turned on when he presses his body into yours, where you feel just how much he’s loving this too. 

His heavy cock sits in his boxers, and he pushes it against your plush ass. You can do nothing but sigh and drink in his quiet groans.  

You're powerless here. He can do anything he wants to do to you. You helplessly moan when you feel his cold hands reach for the band of your pants and forcefully pull them down, exposing your ass to the frigid air around you.

His large hands splay over your exposed rear, and you melt into the touch.

“I’m a good girl I promise, Officer.”

"Hm?" He asks, looking down at you. His eyes are dark and predatory and his voice is quiet. That touch of his was strong, controlling. Everything from his touch and tone screams to you that he’s in charge, whether you like it or not.

"I'm not sure I believe you. You were so quick to break the law and to try to get away."

A cold breeze is starting to chill you, and a small shiver runs up your back. He's quiet for a moment, enjoying the control he has over you. "Perhaps you deserve a punishment."

You shake your head but he’s quick to reach a hand out and press your cheek against the car, forcibly holding you down. “N-No, Officer. I’ll be good I promise.”

"I don't think you will be." He says, and he's still holding down your face. His voice is cold and clinical.

His words aren't a threat, it's a prediction. It's the truth. It's a fact.

"You’ll just get into trouble again, won't you?"

He keeps his hand on your cheek, and he moves it and strokes your face. His touch is gentle - tender– yet forceful.

“Maybe.. I’ll get into trouble as many times as I can if you’re the one after me.” Your voice is teasing and amused, despite your predicament.

His eyebrow twitches slightly. Your comment was a little bit too playful– and it was definitely a challenge.

"Oh yeah?" He says, and now his voice contains something new. There's an edge of something to it. There's something sinister to it. "Is that so?"

You bite your lip and smile up to him as best as you, and as you speak it’s clear just how sarcastic your tone is.

“I’d never lie to you, Officer.”

Spencer sucks on his teeth for a moment with an unamused look on his face before he’s letting go of your face and moving his hands down to urge down his pants and underwear. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” 

The cold surface of the car sends a chill down your spine, but his hot and heavy presence pressing up against you serves as warmth enough.

All you can hear is the impatient sound of fabric and metal being pulled off his body, before you can feel the weeping tip of his cock pressing against your slickened folds. He lets out a low groan at the feeling of him sliding along the lips of your cunt. 

He wants to make a snarky comment, ask if you’re always this wet, or maybe ask if your little game of cat and mouse had you soaking through your underwear, but he refrains. 

To make up for its absence, he tilts his hips forwards and slips his head between your folds, just barely grazing the hole that was practically begging to be filled. With a pout, you try your hardest to push back against him, to have him “accidentally” glide into you. 

But despite only knowing you for an hour, he knows you enough that he’s already two steps ahead. Spencer pulls his hips back with a disapproving click of his tongue.

“I let you off of a speeding ticket, the least you could do is be a good girl and stay still.” 

You whimper at the gravelly tone in his voice, and make a small noise of acknowledgement. The bold persona you had sported before had melted away with the steaming hot tension between the two of you. 

Your obedience is quickly rewarded as he pushes his body forward, slowly sheathing himself in your drench walls. A breathy moan leaves your lips as your pussy greedily swallows his shaft, pulling him deeper and deeper into the soaking wet warmth. 

Spencer’s hand is quick to grab at the base of your head, grabbing a handful of hair and gripping firmly at the roots. He pulls back, forcing your neck back so you’re looking up at the dark night sky. 

“I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. Can’t let anyone know what we’re doing out here, hm?”

His other hand finds solace on the curve of your hip and waist, his grip borderline bruising as he uses it to fuck into you. His pace is unforgiving and aggressive, pushing and pulling his dick in and out of you as hard it had your walls already aching. 

And yet, all you could do is bite down on your lip so hard you could taste your own blood, and it only served to turn you on even more. The slap of his hips against your ass has you reeling, trying your hardest to bow your head down, but with the grip he has on your hair, it proves impossible. 

The hands stationed behind your back writhe and try their best to break from the cuffs, and when he sees this, he only humps into you harder and faster with a cocky huff. 

“Why’re you trying so hard to escape? Gonna run again?”

Your puffy folds are being rubbed raw with how sharp he was fucking into you, the heavy pounding of his hips pushing his dripping member deeper into you with each pass. Spencer leans over you the closest he can, and tightens the first in your hair. 

“You know I’ll catch you again, so don’t even think about it, sweetheart.” 

You involuntarily clench at the husky tone in his voice and the indication of him hunting you down again. Having you run through the dark forest, slick dripping down your thighs as you try your hardest to evade him, only for it to testify his claim that yes, he would in fact catch you again. 

“I-I won’t.. won’t run from you again, Officer. I p-promise–oh fuck–promise. I’m–I’m yours.” 

Your voice came out jumbled from the force of his thrusts, making an evil grin spread across his sweaty face. Reducing you to a blubbering mess as he tore you apart on his cock filled him with more satisfaction than anything else. 

He looked down to where his body met yours, and growled out a moan at the sight of your milky arousal pooling around the base of his length, and the way your ass was blooming with shades of pink and red with how hard he was slamming his hips into it.

His nails were digging into the skin of your hip, and the slight sting made you wince in pain. The hand in your hair was still relentlessly tugging at it, and he had the audacity to start using it as a handle to fuck into you in a harder, more methodical way. 

Your ass bounced back against in deep calculated thrusts, and every time your body lurched forward, he’d pull you back almost immediately by your hair. Your eyes squeezed in both pain and pleasure at the feeling of your roots being abused by his hand. 

“Thought I told you to be quiet. What happened to being a good girl?”

His tone is condescending and dark as he talks down to you, accentuating his words with the tilt of his hips and the yank of his fist. 

A deep ache settled in a pool at the bottom of your stomach, pushing harder and harder against your cunt, urging you to finish here and now and flood his headlights. 

However, despite how much your body was screaming at you, you were afraid to face the Officer if you came around his cock so early on, especially without his permission. He was already fucking you with a hostility that could only be described with one word: Angry. 

Your body ached from being bent over the hard metal of his car, your cunt convulsing around his shaft splitting you open, as he treated you like you were nothing but a doll to him. 

Spencer groaned as he felt you twitching around him, and a cruel smile twists on his face when you stutter and try your hardest to speak through his thrusts and your whimpers. 

“I-I’m.. Cum, I’m gonna.. gonna cum, please, please.” 

He abruptly pulls himself out of you, relishing in the way his cock drips with your slick as it bobs in the cold night air.

“No, you’re not.” 

His voice is almost as sadistic as the expression on his face, and he roughly yanks your head back, almost pulling you off the hood of the car. 

“On your knees.” 

You collapse to the ground in front of him and shift on your legs as you look up at him with teary eyes. His length, hefty and dribbling precum, swayed in front of your face, almost taunting. 

His hand moves to your face, running the tips of his fingers over the cheek of your skin, before moving up and tenderly wiping the tears that well in your eyes. The gesture makes your heart stop for a moment, you were surprised he was showing you mercy, so you didn’t get too comfortable.  

Looking up through your lashes, eyes wide and as innocent as you could muster, you swallow as you wait for him to make the first move. You wouldn’t dare try anything now, he knew that. 

Slowly leaning forward, the tip of his cock brushes against your pouty lips, smearing his spend all over you. His voice is quiet as he speaks to you, and the hand in your hair twists. 

“Open.” 

Your mouth drops open before he can even finish, and he smiles at your eagerness. The hand that was once caressing your face moves under your chin, holding the bottom of your head as he slides his cock against your tongue and down your throat. 

“Look at you.. finally being a good girl.” 

His voice is barely above a whisper now, and the whirring of his engine and the city’s faint noise pollution are the only things accompanying his words. The headlights of his car are shining against your back, and you can see the shadow of his form looming over you, cock down your throat, against the trees behind him. 

Once he’s pushed himself as far as he can, he readjusts his grip in your hair and starts to pull you up and down his shaft. Your thick spit coats him, pooling around the edges of your mouth every time you plunge back in because of how big he is. 

You moan around the mouthful and he grits his teeth with a groan at the vibration, plunging deeper and deeper, abusing the inside of your throat and rubbing the skin raw. You could just barely taste the salty precum against your tongue each time he pulled himself out of your mouth. 

His grunts and groans grow louder in volume and deeper in tone as his thrusts become erratic and animalistic. Spit and slick is dripping down your chin and chest, drenching the collar of your shirt and your skin. 

“Gonna–shit–gonna cum all over this pretty face..”

Your eyes water from how hard he’s stamping the back of your throat, and the ache in your jaw becomes unbearable as he works himself inside your mouth. It’s not another minute before he’s quicking ripping his shaft from between your lips and frantically stroking himself at the base as groan after moan seeps from gritted teeth. 

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment before they’re forced open when you feel a wet hand slap you across the face. With wide eyes you look up at him in disbelief, in which he just slaps you again. Your head jerks to the side from the force, and when you turn back to him, he’s shooting hot webs of his arousal all over you. 

Ribbons of white coat your face, streaming down your cheeks and running down your jaw. Your mouth parts in a soft moan when you feel the scolding fluid drenching your skin. 

Spencer throws his head back and bites his lips as his hips twitch forward with each pump of cum he deals to your face. His legs are shaking underneath him, and has to lean over you to hold onto the grill of the car in order to not collapse from the intense power of his orgasm as it washes over him in tsunami sized waves. 

The tip of his sopping cock pushes against your parted lips, shooting out even more of his spend against your tongue. You swallow with a sigh and look back up at him expectantly, your face is positively covered in the affects of his orgasm and when he drops his head back down, he only moans louder. 

He strokes himself one last time, body shuddering and hips jackhammering when his rough palm rubs over the sensitive undersize of his member, and explodes all over you again as he rides the wave of a second orgasm. 

A subsequent torrent of his cum coats your face, joining the previously expelled fluid as it all drips down your face. Some of it trails down your neck, and it makes you feel utterly disgusting in a way that only you would find irresistible.  

When he finally stops cumming, one of his hands reaches down to collect some of the liquid, swiping it off your cheek and forcing the finger into your mouth. He urges your lips open and pushes the soaked digit onto your tongue. 

The wet muscle wraps around the salty coated skin, sucking the cum off and giving him a show while you do it. Dragging your pursed lips over his finger, wide teary eyes bored into him.

Spencer scoffs above you in amusement before withdrawing his hand from you. 

“Is coming onto an officer a criminal offense?” 

Your voice is hoarse from the moans and his cock that ripped through your throat just minutes prior, and the rasp in your tone makes you sound absolutely wrecked. He rolls his eyes with a huff of a laugh and looks down at you.

“Why don't you get in the back of the car and find out?” 

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep.11

Part 1

*sits with half a tub of ice cream with both AC and fan on because my AC is old and needs a little help and puts my cat on Do Not Disturb mode (aka scratching his belly)*

Hello!!!!

Welcome back to my crack posting! =D

Warning: long post, and since I have like 60 screenshots, there will be a part two 😊😅

I wrote that intro before I'd watched the ep. Me as I was watching the ep was mostly incoherent screaming (so much so that my cat woke up from his nap to give me "what the hell, hooman" look).

This episode was amazing, and I loved it, and I'll probably die of too much fluff, but that won't happen before I finish watching We Are (which- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE JUST 5 EPS LEFT?!!).

I was giggling and kicking my feet (just like Peem the morning after that Prince Charming kiss) from the very first scene.

Oh, they are so gone for each other (and I am gone for them 😭). The smiles, the trying to hear what the other is doing just across the door ah

So, so true. As a writer that hits.

Also, I'm very glad they decided to showcase creative blocks, even if it was for a few minutes.

Me to PhumPeem: yes, Peem, I would love to know too.

Also- I really wanna know what Ciize was doing back there 😭

Too cute to handle 😭

Jokes (and puns) aside, this scene is quite significant. Previously, whenever Phum was seen in the vicinity of the Fine Arts building, it was only because he wanted something from Peem (yes even that scene in ep. 8, he wanted company from Peem), but now, he's just sitting there waiting for Peem. And when Peem comes down, he's pinching his cheeks right there and acting cute with him and asking what's wrong.

And he keeps on asking, because he can see that Peem is a little moody, and not his usual self. "You're usually livelier than this."

Phum: "Actually, I want to be water too..."

Me: No way, is this what I think it is?

Phum: "I want to be the reason you feel good."

Me: yeah, yep, that's what I thought

No but, you can't tell me Phum doesn't binge watch BLs with his beloved teddy bear. Of course he has a whole arsenal of cheesy flirting lines.

All this time, it was always Phum telling Peem how comfortable he is around him and his friends, how fun it is.

Welp, it's Peem's turn.

I love Phum.

This is both him asking for consent as well as making sure they're on the same page and going at the same pace (which he always does, as I'd said before).

Also, no, he wants you to get closer.

HANDS.

Hear how polite and soft Q is with Toey now? Once Q knew for sure that he's allowed to show affection towards Toey as more than just a mentor/mentee, he decided to be fluffy as heck and never went back (because his love language is giving and showing through actions).

Love that for them both <3

This is such a valid fear.

He was afraid that his love would be too much, and in the process he'd lose the person he loves again, so he thought it better to just suffer alone than confess. Not gonna lie, my heart broke just a little here. (Also, because I'm currently rewatching MSP, I'll be pulling a lot of parallels, and this reminds me of that scene where Sound tells Gun that he's afraid to confess to Win because he's pretty sure he'll get rejected).

Oh, and I keep forgetting to say this, but Satang is such an amazing actor. Watching Sound and Toey, I almost can't believe they're played by the same person.

Phum's lethal weapon and Peem's fatal weakness 😭

Let's be honest though, no one would be able to resist that smile, those eyes and that soft, "Na, krab". Oh yeah, he used polite pronouns here by the way.

I can't always notice the shift from formal to informal or vice versa because I'm not that well-versed in the language (yet) but this was pretty obvious.

Bonus (Peem's reaction):

Tan: flirts with his theerak non-stop 24/7 Fang: *brushes his hair a little and apologizes for making him wait* Tan: *melts into a blushing mess*

That man is so whipped.

And in this house, we stan all whipped men.

This actually reminds me of when I was a wee baby (around 3 or 4 years old, I think) when I rescued a baby sparrow and took it to my dad and told my neigbours my dad would be able to heal it because he's a dcotor (he isn't a vet either) 😭

Also- naming a bird by another bird is so true to Pun's character.

This so relatable oh gods 😭

Also, we got the princess carry for Pride month! Twice if we count Chain lifting Pun in the waterfall, which I totally do.

We finally get being carried to bed but realizing they're laying on top of the blankets instead of just being magically wrapped in them by morning!

*sighs fondly* such a simp. <3

Uh huh, you said that last time too.

Don't lie, Peem, you'd let him hug you every night.

👀

Is this the reason behind the NC rating?

Also, this singular line just gave me a brain worm that is making me write my first smut fic. I blame y'all for getting me into this series.

Yes, of course, Phum, everyone believed your "snort mi mi mi".

Don't think I didn't see your little secret smile, Peem.

(Also, I have a headcanon that Phum just loves to be the little spoon)

Now who's hugging who, huh?

"Go away", he says, while putting his arm around his (not) boyfriend.

See, it was all fun till this point, but you can't be giving me this level of domestic fluff while at the same time telling me they're not even dating yet. That just doesn't work.

So, for me, from this point on, they're an old married couple <3

Frankly though, all the four couples in this series are old married couples that just don't know they're married yet.

Toey: HELP ME!!!

Q: WHAT HAPPENED WHO NEEDS BEATING UP-

Toey: I forgot to do my assignment and today's the deadline 🥺

Q: ... 😑

You don't...?

I thought that was the perfect time to start working on it?

jk jk, kids, I'm a chronic procrastinator, please don't learn from me, learn from your P'Q

(Q reminds me so much of @desi-yearning when she scolds me after I pull an all-nighter to submit an assignment or study for an exam 😭)

Oh. Oh.

Oh my.

I love this scene so much.

This pencil box is very very special to Q, and he's asking Toey to draw on it - something that is irriversible, as Toey himself says.

But this is Q's way of putting together both his loves. This pencil box was picked up by Toey the first time, but back then, Q only knew him as Milk Frappe Boy.

Now, he's asking Toey to do something Milk Frappe Boy would never have been able to (remember, Toey started taking an interest in art only after meeting Pencil Senior), because Pencil Senior disappeared on Milk Frappe Boy, but Q would never disappear on Toey.

On this note, I end Part 1.

Part 2 will be out tomorrow, because as much as I try to deny it, I have these pesky things called responsibilities to attend to, and it's very late here now (not past my regular bed time, but way past my ideal bed time 😭)

Thank you for reading! 😊

Here, have some pizza and a cookie🍕🍕🍪

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

And here's Part 2

[gatitties]

Hi 👋😊.

I just had this a idea for almost a whole  year and it about a young teen female Reader who have a father figure or mother figure from the pirate they like the most but~~ I want them to be the older version from the future like when they are at the age of 40 or 60 . ( Strawhat pirates & white beard pirates & kid pirates) 

And if you don't write about the whitebeard pirate's it okay .instead of it I would like it to be the heart pirates 😊♡.

Edited!\ take your time okay, love your writing by the way👋😊♡

─Strawhats, Heart Pirates, Kid pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x teen!fem!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: some headcannons with your mother/father figure and the rest of the crew

─Warnings: the characters are older, like in those 40/60 year old drawings (reference)

Well yes I write for whitebeard and as a bonus you will have all four crews, ty!! ;)

─ You're like the baby of the crew, no matter how strong or smart you are, for them it's like a duty to keep you safe even though you don't need it.

─ Luffy, Chopper and Usopp are your best allies when you get bored and want to play or play a joke on others, although they are not so young for their usual games they can always make a small exception for you.

─ As for family roles… Sanji was like a father to you, he was the most attentive to everything, he controlled that you had a balanced diet, that you hydrated, and he made sure that nothing and nobody could bother you or harm you, physically or mentally.

─ This cook already has an age and a past that makes him want to protect every possible child, and despite the fact that you were not a child, in his eyes it still seemed that you were 5 years old and not 13.

─ You called him 'dad' once by accident and he cried after you left the room.

─ Sometimes he just walks into your room to tell you something random "did you know that swordfish can swim up to 100 km/h? They are great hunters" and leaves without saying anything else, he doesn't even wait for you to answer, "Close the door!" of course he never closes the door after that.

─ You spend a lot of time in the kitchen and he teaches you to make your favorite dishes.

─ Despite being forty years old, the fights with Zoro won't stop, and he always puts you in the middle to give him support, "yellow looks much better" "green is better, it doesn't look like piss" "Of course not, honey, what do you think about this? Yellow is better isn't it?" "I guess?" "Ha! see, my little girl is always right marimo"

─ Franky and Brook are like the uncles who spoil you.

─ Now… if you're looking for who won to be your mother figure, the award went to Nami, despite not being as young as before and having lived more adventures, she will never stop being like a scared cat and tends to separate you from danger when she sees it.

─ She earned most of your affection pretty quickly.

─ Typical mother who makes you save as much as possible, she'll lend you her old clothes if still in good condition, "this shirt suits you better than it did when I was your age, you'll be a beautiful girl when you grow up!"

─ Although she doesn't mind pampering you a bit if she wants, it's practically difficult for her to deny you something if you really want it, overall, she can always put others in debt to get more money.

─ Lots of relaxing baths with her and Robin, you like to gossip about everything you see when you stay on an island for a while.

— Many moments of shopping together, it doesn't matter if you like it or not, she will simply drag you down because she needs the opinion of someone younger to stay "in fashion".

— She'll also teach you everything she knows about cartography and navigation.

— Father figure Law lives under stress, his night schedules are still as shattered as when he was young and now he has a teenager under his wing to care for.

─ He is very strict with everything, he wants you to maintain a healthy life so you will have many restrictions, ranging from not spending much time inside the submarine to correcting your posture when you're sitting wrong. "You look like a shrimp sitting like this, correct your posture or you'll have back pain" "You look like an emo in your forties and nobody says anything to you" "…"

─ He's worried because teenagers are so carefree and stupid sometimes, he'll have Bepo supervise when he can't.

─ You have many arguments with him for small things, but don't worry, if he punishes you Shachi and Penguin are the uncles who get you out of trouble.

─ This duet with you by their side only means one thing to Law and it's headache.

─ Whenever you're in a bad mood, the crew jokes that Law has infected you with his continual sulking disease, and that now you are like father and daughter.

─ Law is a proud dad inside of him, he won't show that he is proud of you out loud, but in his mind he has you as someone smarter than half the crew.

─ He will teach you everything he knows about medicine, unless you don't like it or are too squeamish about operating or dissecting, however you are required to learn everything about basic first aid.

─ Ikkaku is the only woman on the whole ship so she was the mother figure who helped you not go crazy among so many men and an adorable bear.

─ You're always welcome in the kitchen to help or observe, but mostly to gossip, sometimes Bepo joins.

─ She has small details with you, like buying some matching pendants or bracelets, she also likes to comb your hair with different styles, definitely your personal hairdresser.

─ Unlike Law, Ikkaku will always let you know that she's proud of you for any little thing, like if you've only managed to take down a few guys on your own without help and will yell in mid-battle "Well done, that's my girl!"

─ God bless you with this crew because you will not have a day off, just because they have aged doesn't mean that they are not as chaotic as before.

─ Although they will respect you, you are not in this crew for nothing, and also, all these guys are afraid of an angry teenager with little hours of sleep. "Dude, shut the fuck up if you don't want me to insert this knife as a new piercing in your forehead" "Yo… ok, chill kiddo"

─ The closest thing to a mother figure that you found was Heat, because he was the one who acted the most like a mother hen with you, apparently he was the most concerned about your physical integrity because he was at that age of wanting children and you were the closest to that.

─ It's not like he was depriving you of potentially lethal weapons for a teenager, but he was more afraid of what people would do with someone young like you.

─ Because being in this crew most of the time means fighting and going to clubs, so yeah, he always had an eye on you just in case some nasty person tried something weird with you.

─ Wire always took care to relax Heat when you'd rather just walk around the village than be in a bar because you weren't much of a fan of drinking alcohol at your age. "What if she gets kidnapped? She can be there all alone being scared" "She literally dismembered a guy last time we fought, she'll be fine."

─ Wire is the cool uncle who lets you do whatever you want as long as your worried mom doesn't find out.

─ And if we talk about a father figure… Killer, Killer acted like a responsible father most of the time, not as worried as Heat but always watching over you and above all that you didn't let yourself be influenced by some of Kid's stupidity.

─ Because Kid was like your demon on your shoulder, despite already being of an age, this man wouldn't stop being impulsive and you're an easy-to-influence teenager, so you and Kid have a sibling relationship.

─ Killer just watches the two of you while he looks disapprovingly, you can't even see his face and you already know that he is disappointed with your decisions. "You guys broke what? oh okay." a lot of passive-aggressiveness whenever he scolds you.

─ But he will always scold Kid more because he is of legal age and should be responsible, he definitely doesn't leave you alone with him because the last time you ended up drunk.

─ And despite not being of many words, he's like the presence you need by your side at certain times, someone you can turn to if something bothers you and that you know that he will be there for you.

─ Overprotective squad in general.

─ Everyone sees Whitebeard as a father, however in your eyes he is like your grandfather, because Marco had earned the position of father figure.

─ This man wanted to establish a life a few years ago, start a family etc, then one day you just arrived and he decided to take you under his wing, literally.

─ He is the least worried if you compare him with the men of the other crews, he knows that he has many people who protect you by his side, so he is calm in that aspect.

─ He will still scold you for your bad habits. "Eat slower you'll choke if you keep eating like a turkey" "Don't you have a nest to make or something? I know how to eat, I'm not Ace" "Hey!"

─ Ace may have matured a lot more but he'll still be a bad influence on you, so Marco always asks Izo to keep an eye on both of you, because the last time he left you two alone you ended up in the stomach of a sea king.

─ His chest will swell with pride if you call him 'dad' in front of people.

─ He's the kind of dad who tells all the shits that have happened to you and he embarrasses you in front of the crew just because he wanted to tell a funny anecdote about you, although he later apologizes to you if he really upset you.

─ As for a mother figure, this crew is short of such things, but the closest thing was Izo, because without a doubt, within this crew full of testosterone, he was much more elegant and careful than the others.

─ And more than anything because you could steal his makeup to use it, although you didn't know how to apply many of the things he had, he helped you with that. "Honey you're spreading the makeup wrong" "Can you teach me Izo?"

─ He taught you a lot about self defense in case someone bothers you more than necessary, like using guns, you should know how to protect yourself just in case.

─ Proud mom watching you kick ass.

[the-fiction-witch]

Baby

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - 18 + fondling / frustrated sex / nudity / nipple play/ breast play / living room sex / sofa sex / love bites / making out / kissing / orgasms / fingering / Word Count - 5460

Y/n sat on the couch, her chess magazine in hand, wearing her white sleeveless jumpsuit, with the belt tight around her waist and the buttons up her chest done up tightly, her hair in its usual 60s curls with a white fabric headband, her cigarette in her hand.

Suddenly the apartment door opens and Benny marches in angrily,

She raised an eyebrow at his suddenly rough return,

Benny’s face is red, and he throws his suitcase down in the bedroom, his expression almost frustrated and angry. He begins to approach and sits down next to her at the edge of the couch. He puts his elbows on his knees and rubs his face with his hands. “I hate it there sometimes… the competition, the cocky sons of bitches…”

Y/n sits up puts her feet down and throws her magazine on the table, grabbing her cigarette box which she offered to him "What happened?"

Benny takes a cigarette from the box she offered him and lights it, breathing a shaky sigh. “The same thing that happens most of the time… I won against everybody there, which was expected. Then they keep asking me the same stupid questions. You know how much I hate that bullshit… They act like they want to talk to me, but they really only care about trying to be like me.”

"Well you're pretty fantastic. Not surprised people wanna be like you" she chuckled

He takes a second to puff from his cigarette before responding, taking a second to look at her before looking forward again. “They don’t know what ‘like me’ is. They just wanna be around me, they don’t really wanna do all of the hard work that I do. I hate all these stupid little people who think they will get good without putting in the effort I do.” He takes another drag from his cigarette and lets out a tired sigh. "And these girls… they just won’t leave me alone.”

Y/n glared softly,

He takes a moment to notice her glare, and he can't help but smirk and chuckle. "Oh, don't give me that look..." He takes another puff, then moves a little closer to her, and puts his arm around her. "They're nothing like you... I promise you that. You're the only woman I want."

"mmm but when your a hundred miles away and little girls in mini skirts are throwing themselves at the handsome chess champion,"

He smirked and looked down at her while he rested his hand on her thigh. "Do you really think that I want any of them? They’re annoying as hell. Besides, just because I look doesn’t mean I touch."

"Sure." She nodded

He laughs a little, taking another long drag from his cigarette before continuing his train of thought. "I mean, I could easily have any woman I want and we both know that... But I don't. I only want you, I thought you knew that."

"I know. Doesn't mean I don't worry"

He puts his cigarette out in the ashtray and moves closer to her, now wrapping both of his arms around her waist almost possessively. "Don’t worry baby…You’re the only one I want. Trust me."

she rolled her eyes and nodded "What else happened at the tournament to piss her off then?"

He groans, resting his head on her shoulder and speaking slowly. “It was the usual… The annoying fans, then other idiots from various magazines wanted my time and wanted to try to interview me. Then some of the other competitors are just the most obnoxious pieces of crap.”

Y/n nodded stroking his blonde locks, "how about... We grab some beers, get takeout, sit, play some chess, have a nice relaxing cigarette and a nice slow fuck. That makes you feel better?" She kissed his forehead,

A smirk formed on his face, his hands running up the sides of her thighs as he got a little bit closer, almost on top of her by now. "That sounds like the best thing I’ve heard all day… Except for one thing to add to that."

"oh? What else?"

He moves his body on top of hers, forcing her to lie down on the couch as he looks down at her. His smirk turns more into a smile and his gaze is hungry. He pins her wrists against the couch above her head as he moves his lips near her ear and whispers in a deep, low voice. “I don’t want slow… I want you all night.”

she smirked up at him, "I figured you'd want to go slow as you're angry, and frustrated" she smirked shifting her hips up against his,

He groans quietly and he moves his lips to her neck. He takes some of her flesh into his mouth and sucks on it gently for a moment before letting go and speaking softly in her ear. “Angry and frustrated just means I want you all the more baby… And I don’t want it gentle either…”

"don't you?" She smirked, "So me sitting on top of you and letting you ride it out all gentle and slow isn't what you want?"

He groans again, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking down at her. Even just the idea of it makes his body ache and gives him a strong desire to just claim her on the couch right now. “I would love that baby…”

she chuckled "Well, I'll certainly add it to our plans"

He smiles at her response and moves to kiss her, his tongue entering her mouth. He presses his whole body against hers, the growing erection in his jeans against her hip as his hands run down her jumpsuit. He finally pulls away from the kiss and takes a deep breath. “How the hell do you make me want you so bad even when I’m tired and angry?” he rubs against her hips pressing his whole body against the thin cotton of her jumpsuit, one hand holds her hip, the other unbuttons the front of her jumpsuit feeling the thin, soft fabric of her jumpsuit as he slides his hand inside to cup her bare breast, feeling one of her bare breasts in his hand immediately causes a wave of lust to rush through his body in waves.

She playfully shrugs at his question with a wicked smile,

He groans again, and moves his mouth to her neck to kiss and gently bite on her flesh. “God you’re so perfect…” He slowly moves his mouth back to her ear. "You know what else I find hot about you baby?"

"And what's that?" She gasped squirming a little,

He lightly sucks on her earlobe as he grins, loving hearing her gasp of pleasure and feeling her squirm under his touch. He began pinching her nipple as he spoke in her ear with a deep, low voice, practically breathless with desire now. “You’re always wanting me and you’re never afraid to ask for it…"

"and how am I asking for it?" she smirked, "because I wait for you to get home in a skin-tight jumpsuit without a bra... Or panties?"

His cheeks burn a little red when her admit to what you’re wearing underneath the jumpsuit. Once he hears her words, he groans again in response and presses into her more, the erection in his jeans even more noticeable now. “Exactly baby…” He moves his mouth back to hers, kissing her hungrily as his hands continue to touch and squeeze. Finally, he pulls away again and speaks softly. "Maybe I could just have you right here on this couch…” he tugs hard on both her nipples,

She groaned and threw her head back against the couch "You could? You that desperate for me Benny?" She smirked moving her hips hard,

He groans and closes his eyes, his hands gripping her breasts. It takes everything he has to keep control of himself. He opens his eyes back up to look down at her, still breathing heavily as he fights the urge to simply rip her clothes off. “You have no idea baby… I’ve been thinking about you all this time away.” He leans down again to kiss her skin, moving to her jawline and then back down to her neck. He slowly moves down to her chest, leaving gentle, open-mouthed kisses as he moves down her body. His hand moves the jumpsuit down off her shoulder to expose her even more as his mouth kisses lower and lower.

she playfully squealed a little as her skintight cotton jumpsuit ended up only on her mid thighs with her body exposed completely,

He groans at the sight of her body exposed to him. He takes a moment, his eyes slowly looking down over every inch of her bare skin. He lets his hands roam around her body as he looks, touching every part of her as he speaks softly. “God I love you… And I want you so much…” He moves with her to change positions, grabbing her roughly by the hips, his hands gripping her flesh as he flipped her onto her stomach. He grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her head back slightly. He doesn’t hold her head back for very long as he releases her hair and brings his hand back down to her hips giving her ass a firm smack, He leans forward, letting his hands grip tighter on her hips as he places his mouth on her shoulder and lets out a hot, deep breath. His mouth moves across her shoulder and up to her neck, kissing and softly biting on her skin here and there as he continues to speak lowly and breathless in her ear. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to take you like this…”

"I imagine you've been desperate too since we bought the couch"

He groans and lets out a low, quiet laugh, still kissing her neck as he speaks. "You know me too well…” He continues for another moment, kissing and biting her skin. After another few seconds, he pauses, moving his mouth near her ear again to speak in her ear, sounding even more desperate than before. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold back baby… I need you so bad right now…”

"Who said you had to hold back?" She smirked "Top draw by your chair ... Same as always" she reminded him "Or are you going to treat me now your home and just go raw Benny?"

He groans again, closing his eyes tighter at her words, her voice is practically making his body burn. “F-fuck baby…” He stops to take a deep, jagged breath before speaking again, his voice sounding almost strained now, “And what if I…” He stops speaking for a moment, his breathing is now more laboured as he struggles to hold himself back from completely taking her right now. “And what if I said I want to have you raw baby…?”

she chuckled "Then I'm sure I'd scream a lot louder"

He groans loudly at the thought, He closes his eyes once again as he tries to take a deep breath. “God I love you so much… I need you…” His hips press a little harder against her as he speaks, and his hands squeeze her hips more as if he needs the grip for support.

"I love you too Benny" she cooed "You can. Go on"

He groans once more at the sound of her voice and her permission. It’s as if the last string that’s holding him back is snapped. Immediately, he lets go of her hip with one of his hands to unbutton and unzip his jeans. His breath gets even more unsteady and laboured as he can barely control his body’s need to take her right now, right here. He hastily removed his pants and boxers, he gripped her hip again, holding him firmly in place as he spoke once more in her ear with a shaky, but hungry and wanting voice. “Are you ready baby… Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

she bit her bottom lip hard and gasped "Yes..."

He groans once again, loving her response and hearing her gasp of pleasure. He gently bites on the back of her shoulder for a moment while he positions himself against her, his whole body shaking with anticipation. His breath is ragged, sounding almost strained as he speaks in her ear in a low, rough tone. “God I love you so much… I’m not gonna be able to go slow baby…”

"I love you too... Go as hard as you want but don't cop out on me too Benny"

He groans, his body trembles almost violently now, barely able to control himself and hold back a moment longer. He takes another jagged, unsteady breath before speaking again in a rough but very soft tone. “I wouldn’t dare baby… Don’t you know by now I always finish what I start?” He pauses to let out another shaky breath before speaking once more in her ear, his voice still deep and rough with desire. “And right now I’m starting with you…” Without another word, he pushes his hips forward, pushing inside in one quick, hard motion

she grunted loudly and let a moan fall after shifting a little at the feeling of him,

His body instinctively trembles, He shudders violently for a moment before speaking again in a deep and rough voice. “God you feel so good…” He takes a couple of deep breaths to try and stabilize his breathing as he gets used to the sensation of being inside of her again. He groans loudly, shivering again as he feels her tighten around him. He grips her hip even tighter, forcing her to remain in place against him as he takes another few deep breaths to try and control himself. “You’re gonna make me lose it already baby…”

"that desperate Benny?" She growled starting to move herself back and forth letting him slip in and out of her, “you must have missed me,”

He moans and groans, unable to control his response. He keeps her in place against his body, moving his hips with hers to match her rhythm as he continues to speak in that same deep, low, and now even rougher tone. “God yes baby… So bad… Always so bad for you…” His whole body is shaking now. His breathing is very quick and uneven, almost like he’s having trouble breathing and controlling his body. His heart is beating so fast and hard that he’s worried she might be able to hear it. He grips her hip tight, holding her still as his hips move harder and faster against hers, wanting to lose himself completely in the sensation of her body and the pleasure only she can give him.

Y/n moans and squeals from her pleasure burring her face in a pillow

He groans loudly, the sounds that have become so familiar to him over the years but always drive him mad with desire. He loses control of his body completely, his hips moving even harder and faster against hers. He’s breathing so hard and fast now, he’s worried he might pass out. “God baby… You sound so good… I need you so bad…”

she screamed his name and mindless moans arching her back as she got closer and closer to her orgasm,

He closes his eyes, and he moves his hand up to grab a handful of her hair, gently pulling her head back to lift her face from the pillow. He continues to move his hips against hers, harder and faster as he groans loudly in her ear. “God I love you… I love you so much… I’m gonna…”

she screamed her eyes rolling back, she choked out a groan unable to speak as she neared her edge

He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, his body shaking and trembling violently, struggling to maintain control of his voice as he feels her getting close to her orgasm “Oh god, baby… Baby I’m, f-fuck……Fuck… I can’t… I can’t hold back, baby… I, I need you… Need you to come for me

"fuck... fuck... fuck... yes.. yes Benny!" She screamed loudly almost uncontrollably, her body trembling and squeezing around him hard as she felt her pleasure wash over her body immediately leaving her as a gasping mess letting out a short moan each time he moved

He groans and moans loudly, his whole body trembles even harder at the sensation of her squeezing around him, holding him so tight. He moans out a string of words, barely coherent, almost too overcome by the feelings of pleasure to speak at all. “God… God… baby. Baby, you feel so… so good. So good… baby… I, I can’t… I can’t…” He moves his hips and body even harder against hers, no longer able to control himself completely. He groans and moans her name over and over again, as he loses himself completely in the feeling and pleasure of her body around him and of the sound of her screaming in pleasure. His fingers grip tight into her hip, almost hard enough to leave marks. He closes his eyes, his whole body trembling violently as he reaches and passes the brink of his own release, letting out a low, rough, almost animalistic growl as he came inside of her, his body completely overwhelmed and consumed by the pleasure of her. He lets out several more deep, raspy groans, slowly coming down from his orgasm as his body trembles softly against hers.

Y/n gasps slowly moving her hips to let him milk every second of it, to ensure he rode it out before she collapsed down her face on the couches pillow as she gasped hard

He moans softly, still shivering and trembling as he slowly comes down from his orgasm. He holds her in place against his body for a moment, his hands grasping onto her tightly, almost like he’s holding on to her for dear life.

"... Fuck" she gasps "I missed you... I love you"

He chuckles softly and kisses the back of her neck, his lips lingering there while he speaks in a low, raspy, spent voice. “Missed you too baby… Love you too. So much I can’t stand it sometimes.”

she nodded getting her breath back,

He groaned and shivered a little as he slowly pulled out of her, his body still sensitive in the aftermath of his orgasm. He collapsed onto his back on the couch next to her, breathing hard as he reached out to take her hand into his, intertwining his fingers through hers. He took a few more deep breaths, his whole body shivering and trembling softly from the aftereffects of his pleasure and release. He looked over to her, taking in her flushed face, her messy hair, and every inch of her body before speaking in a raspy, rough, yet soft voice. “You are so damn sexy… I missed you so much I couldn’t think straight for two weeks straight.”

"humm how do you think I do when my sexy boyfriends away so much." She smirked giving his lips a tender kiss

He hums softly in response, his whole body shivering again as she kisses his lips and he hears her voice. He lifts his hand, gently grabbing a loose strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear. He holds her gaze and smiles softly as he continues to speak in that same low, but soft and affectionate voice. “You’re just as bad as me, aren’t you… Just as desperate when I’m away…”

"of course, I am, what do you think I do when you're away? Other than sitting around sad because you're not here" she chuckled getting up and grabbing some tissues,

He watches her wipe herself clean, admiring every inch of her body as she moves. He groans softly to himself at the sight of his own jizz leaking from between her thighs, then smiles when he hears her voice and speaks in an amused tone. “What I think you’re doing while I’m away? Let’s just say I think about it a lot when I’m alone during the nights… and during the days… and in the morning… and every waking moment.” He rolls off the couch, stepping towards her to gently grab her waist and pull her back against his body. He wraps his arms around her waist and places an affectionate kiss on her shoulder, still admiring her body while he holds her close.

"I do okay, usually just Hugging her pillow and wearing her shirts when I miss you too bad."

He chuckles softly, holding her tighter against his chest, his arms squeezing her gently. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling his face there for a moment, taking in her scent and the feel of her body. He speaks in a soft, affectionate and amused voice. “Lucky pillow… I should be jealous.”

"it's your pillow" she chuckled pushing him away grabbing her jumpsuit slowly pulling it up to her waist, the white fabric so tight every curve of her was obvious

He groans softly as he watches her admiring every curve of her body, especially the very noticeable curves of her ass. He takes a step closer, his eyes still on her body as he reaches out to gently run his hand over her hip, grabbing her skin as he speaks in a low and very affectionate voice. “Oh… I’ll be getting that pillow back… And my shirt too…”

"Of course, your home now. So I don't need them. I have something far better to cuddle" She smiled playfully rubbing her hips on him as she did up the belt

He groans again, the feeling of her body pressed against him so good that he can feel himself growing hard again already. He groans softly, leaning in close to the side of her neck, his lips gently grazing against her skin as he speaks in a low, affectionate voice. He whispers in her ear, unable to hide the desire in his tone. “Mm… now I’m home. You’re right… I can think of far better things to cuddle with now.”

she pulled her jumpsuit up over her shoulders again and went to rebutton the top however Benny grabbed the two halves of the top yanking them open and grabbing her breasts before she could hide herself "Benny!" She playfully chuckled

He groans at the sound of her calling his name in a playful, but still mildly scolding tone, a wide smile appearing on his face. “Heh… sorry baby. Couldn’t resist. I just missed these so much I had to grab them as soon as I could.” He looks down at her exposed breasts for a few seconds, his eyes taking in every inch of her skin. He groans softly to himself again as he feels her nipples hardening in his fingers, so begins to squeeze and fondle her,

Y/n moans throwing her head against his shoulder and squirming as her hand trails into his hair pulling him to kiss her neck harder,

He moans softly his lips moving to the spot on her neck where he can feel her pulse, kissing and sucking gently, not hard enough to leave any marks, but gently enough to feel and hear the sound of her breathing and moaning in response. He moans softly again in her ear, his voice is rough and low as he speaks. “That’s it baby… I know how much you like it when I touch you like this…”

"Harder..." She begs

His breathing gets even more ragged as he hears her request, his body shivering against hers as he feels a fresh wave of desire and need for her washing over him once more. He bites down on her neck, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to leave a mark now, sucking and gently biting on her skin as he speaks in a low and rough voice. “Hard enough to leave a mark this time baby…? Is that what you want?”

she gasped moving his hands to squeeze her chest harder "Hard enough to make me cum"

“You want me to make you come, baby? Is that what you need right now?” he smirked pinching and rubbing her nipples,

she moans and groans, her body squirming the more he rubs, tugs and pinches on her nipples. Her legs tremble and her thighs squeeze together as she gets closer

He can feel her body trembling and quivering against his, He groans and moans softly as he looks down at her body, watching the pleasure he’s giving her. “That’s it baby… That’s it, you’re feeling so good aren’t you?” His hands continue to move and rub against her, the sensations and sounds of her body, combined with the way she’s moving against him, is pushing him to the edge once again as well. He struggles to control himself, desperate to focus only on her and her pleasure and not his own needs.

she squealed and screamed "Benny please please... Fuck... Yes please im-"

He groans loudly, his whole body shaking with excitement as he sees just how close she is to the edge. He continues, rubbing and squeezing and gently pinching her sensitive skin as he speaks in a low, rough and somewhat desperate voice. “You wanna come, baby? You want to come for me, don’t you?”

"yes... Yes please... Benny please!" She begged her white jumpsuit clinging and darkening between her legs from how soaked she’s getting,

He moans loudly at the sound of her pleas. He knows what she wants, and he knows exactly how to give it to her, “Oh, you want it so bad, don’t you baby? You want to come for me so bad… Is that it?”

"Benny please im-"

He groans softly, his body trembling with excitement, his hands continuing to touch and play with her chest, his fingers rubbing and pinching her skin. He can feel the desperation and need in her voice and it’s driving him wild with desire. “Yes, baby… I know you’re close… You’re right there, baby…”

"Please! Just a little faster and ill-"

He groans more loudly, his hands moving faster against her sensitive skin, rubbing and pinching her chest desperately as he listens to her voice, the sounds of the pleasure he’s giving her only driving him wild with desire. “You’re so close, aren’t you baby? So close… Just let go… Cum for me, baby… I want to feel it…”

she screamed and squealed her legs almost giving out as her orgasm rushes though her she screamed his name loudly arching her back and pressing her chest against his hands, soaking her jumpsuit and almost collapsing to the floor if not for his grip on her,

He groans louder as he watches her coming apart, her body trembling and quivering in his arms as she reaches her peak of pleasure, her voice, her body, everything about her so much more erotic than he thought possible. He grips her waist tighter, holding her up, supporting her weight as she comes down from her high, his own breathing ragged and uneven as he speaks in a low, rough, and somewhat shaky voice. “There it is baby… That’s it… You’re so beautiful when you cum…”

"fuck... I love you so much... Thank you benny"

He holds her tighter, “I love you too baby… So much… I can’t even put it into words how much I love you… I love you so damn much… I missed you so much you have no idea…”

"I... I think I need to change clothes now" she chuckled looking at her now-soaked jumpsuit

He chuckles softly, “Yeah… I don’t think you’re gonna want to wear that anymore… Although…. I’m definitely not complaining about the view…”

she playfully shoved him before going to the bedroom to get changed "So? Take away for dinner? Are we getting it or just calling in delivery? Or are you still too horny to think about dinner"

He laughs softly his eyes following her as she walks away, admiring her body again. He takes a second to collect himself before he speaks, answering her question with a playful smirk on his face. “Yeah, I think some food’s a good idea… I haven’t eaten anything since I left this morning… I’ve spent the past few weeks pretty much surviving on a diet of coffee and cigarettes…. That and the memory of your sweet body of course…”

"I'm not sure my body provides much nourishment" she chuckled as she tossed her jumpsuit into the laundry hamper and walked around the bedroom gathering something else to wear

He laughs softly getting distracted and a little distracted once again by the sight of her naked body wandering around the room. He takes a moment to continue admiring her before speaking again, his voice playful and teasing. “You’re kidding me, right? Your body is definitely very nourishing… I could only ever survive off the memories of your body and nothing else and it would still be enough for me…”

she chuckled "What are you feeling? Pizza? Chinese?"

He thinks about the question for a moment, his mind focused on her more than food right now, but he knows he needs to eat something to actually keep functioning. “Mmmm… Honestly, either one’s fine with me. I’m not really feeling picky right now, I’ll eat anything you want… Unless you can think of something else to feed me…”

"how about as you're so hungry? And admittedly I am starving. I was meant to get groceries yesterday but I knew you'd be home today so I didn't bother... You wanna go do a huge order at that new KFC round the block?" She asked as she slipped on some panties and a bra

He smiles at the suggestion, “Yeah, that sounds really good actually… You’re right, I am starving… and I need something to eat before I pass out I think… KFC’s definitely gonna fill me up..”

"likely the energy you were using." She smirked as she grabbed a little black dress with a zip from collar to hem "You going to just have your cock out all day Benny?" She raised an eyebrow to him,

He chuckled soft, a hint of mischief in his eyes “What? You don’t like the view?”

"I adore the view" She smirked giving his lips a kiss and his hard-on a stroke before she began brushing her hair given the mess it'd become after their activities,

He groaned softly his mind going blank for a moment as he responded to her kiss and her touch. “God you know how to drive me crazy don’t you…”

"I wouldn't be a good girlfriend if I didn't" she smirked

He smiles, chuckling softly as he watches her get ready and continue to brush her hair. He shakes his head as he speaks, admiring how beautiful she is, even when doing something as simple as brushing her hair, and he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have her. “No argument there… Trust me, I have no complaints about anything you do… I love you, baby.”

"aww love you too Benny" she smiled giving him a kiss and a small cuddle

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body, holding her tight against him as he returns her embrace. He sighs softly, a sense of contentment and happiness filling him for the first time in weeks. “God, I missed this… I missed you so damn much… I never want to be apart from you ever again…”

"I missed you too Benny, but you'll have to be apart from me for your next chess tournament you know"

He sighs, a slight frown appearing on his face at the reminder of his next tournament, and the reminder of how that also means being apart from her for a few more weeks. “Don’t remind me… I hate thinking about having to leave you, even for a few weeks… I don’t ever want to leave your side again baby…”

"I know you don't, but it's not long. Then you can come back home and have all the cuddles you need"

He nods in agreement, “Yeah, you’re right… A few weeks isn’t that long, and I’ll definitely appreciate the cuddles when I finally get back home. Especially after how much I’ve been missing you the past few weeks…”

she chuckled and gave him another small kiss "Now come on pants. So we can go get dinner. Or I'm not sucking it for two weeks" she threatened heading into the apartment to get her shoes

He groans at the threat, knowing she’s only half joking, and quickly goes to get some pants on. He doesn’t want to risk that, not even for a second. He comes right back out into the room a moment later, pants on and looking perfectly presentable again, except for his messy hair and the hungry look in his eyes as he smiles at her. “All ready. Let’s go baby.” 

[l0stfoster]

Hi same anon who asked abt paul (i love him so bad) what are the reactions from the others the first time paul (or marcia/cherry for that matter) gets jumped like, real bad .

Paul Anon (that's what I'm dubbing you now get fucked /silly) the beloved OKAY SO! Giving you some deets on their first jumping & how their closest friends (or in Cherry & Paul's case {Marcia's if you're a Marbit fan} how their partners react) Cherry:

- For Cherry (and Marcia) the initial reaction the gang has is absolute anger and fury. The fact that the girls were attacked just for merely being in/around the presence of the gang and or part of the population that holds power is so infuriating. They're girls, so they're not roughed up as bad as greasers usually are on account of general 60's shit, but it's still not great. - Cherry's is arguably worse between her and Marcia's on account of a psychological impact; she's got rope burns around her wrists due to them being tied to stunt her power and her hair was cut practically up to her ears- both to prevent any magic usage and just for raw humiliation. She's also bruised and beaten a good bit; god knows fights are horrendous. I wouldn't be surprised if they ripped her earrings out, as Bev's the one who leads their jumpings. - Ace loses her absolute fucking SHIT. The only thing restraining her from going nuclear and burning down soc territory in her rage is both the risk of prison and to an extent doing something that drastic would get innocent people hurt. That would make her no better than the socs. It sure as hell doesn't stop her from going wild on the ones she can find, probably gets herself a few nights in the slammer for it. - Recovery is rough all over. They get her a neater haircut but she's shaken for obvious reasons, it probably takes a while before she has the guts to walk around her side of the tracks again.

Marcia:

- Marcia's lack of power means that she's less of a target, but if she gets the sight of her, it's a rougher fight. She can't defend herself all too well, but her jumping is more on the physical aspect as they beat her pretty bad too. Lots of bruises and cuts and her earrings are ripped out too. She probably has a better chance of fighting back because she wasn't automatically restrained, but 1v4 (or more) doesn't go well. - The most impactful thing for her that happens during it is that they destroy the feather she was gifted by Two-Bit. That's quite literally one of the most cherished things she owns, as she values how Two's been willing to interact with her after she'd watched his jumping without trying to stop it. Bev burns it beyond salvaging and Marcia's absolutely destroyed. She could handle the beating, can overcome being sore and pained for days, but having the thing that resembled the trust she'd fought so hard to earn back was devastating. - Two was probably THE most pissed off of the entire gang for Marcia's jumping, not only at how she was hurt but the feather being destroyed is such a blow to him as a Harpy. If he weren't afraid of Bev under the risk of having his wings fucked with again, he'd hunt her down and give her a taste of her own medicine. Cherry and Ace are also super pissed, 'cause the girls gotta stick together, but they don't really match the fury that is a pissy harpy; especially since harpies gang together— Two could've easily had every other greaser harpy on his side if he prompted it. - Recover is obviously just as rough, I wouldn't be surprised if Marcia starts rooming with someone on the east side out of fear of returning to the west side; especially since it's fully known now by other socs that she's powerless despite her association.

Paul:

- Paul is, to put it simply, almost beaten into an early grave. Not only did he previously have the most notoriety of the socs— which made him hanging with greasers a complete slap to the face— but he is also cursed. Another really prominent reason behind his humping is pretty simple; he’s gay. Society will look at Cherry and Marcia and the socs will go easier on them because they’re girls, but Paul? Paul’s a man, a guy who turned his back on the high society in favor of these pests. - His jumping Is rough all over. They're taunting him throughout, snarking about his sexuality, poking fun at how he can't even fend them off with his magic because not only is he weak, but he's a cursed who can't even do that right. They fuck him up bad; busted ribs, broken nose, and his arms are likely dislocated from them pulling him around hard to tie his hands together so he couldn't use his magic. He's got cuts and bruises galore. I'd go as far enough to say they probably broke an arm or something. I like to imagine they ripped his letterman jacket away from him because he didn't deserve something their kind wore when he was with those freaks now. Honestly, the only reason they stopped was because they couldn't see he was still breathing from the angle they were at, though they killed him, and booked it 💀. If they hadn't, though, they probably would've gone until he did stop. - The only reason he's found is because his familiar trails back to the house and grabs the attention of whoever’s there to get them to come with her, since Paul’s completely knocked out. It’s most likely Soda who finds him since he is arguably the one she likes most of the gang and she’ll gravitate towards him. He’ll follow easily too, since he likes her. It’s very similar to finding Johnny, practically that all over again - Darry is obviously the most pissed, probably the same level of anger he felt after his brother's jumpings and Two’s own. The same people who used to be on Paul’s side of things turning a switch so fast over what? A bit of magic and the fact that he likes dudes? Anger doesn’t even describe it in a way— the fae are territorial, and as far as he’s aware, Paul’s a part of that. He's out for blood; but Paul won't spill names so he's got no specific target. That sure as hell won't stop him from finding out, though. He's just got to behave enough to keep his brothers in his care. - The rest of the gang is a whole mixed bag. Dally doesn’t like Paul but his general response is “It’s deserved but only if I were the one doing it”, so take that as you will. Pony’s petty like Dally but since Darry cares he helps out with patching him up. The rest come to the conclusion that pretty boy here probably needs some watching eyes so he’s stuck with them for a bit. He does NOT know how to respond to it. Pretty much the idea for them is that only they're allowed to fuck with Paul, not the socs. - Paul probably has the easiest (mental) recovery for a few good reasons. It's certainly not his first fight/jumping, and it's not his first time being hurt that badly. There's a reason he's gravitated toward his mom despite her efforts to shove him away.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men #3 (From The Ashes)

At last, this book is starting to cook and show us where these people are at. Scott Summers enjoyers are eating well today, always good to see. Full coverage under the cut, and spoilers of course. TW discussion of violence, anxiety/PTSD mention.

Jed McKay hits the ground running with a bunch of goons called Shrikes having inserted into the Factory, the Alaskan X-Men's base. Shrike is Latin for 'butcher' and the eponymous bird is known for impaling stuff, so we can assume that they're not nice dudes. They caught a ride from the Vanisher (a 60s X-Men foe who has popped up here and there as a mercenary teleporter/unwilling X-Force asset. His aesthetic is much better these days) who's like 'damn y'all live like this' but objects to them using the term 'mutie.' Bro, you're dropping black ops goons into their house for an unnamed quid pro quo, you think their allies?

Implications...

- The Shrikes want to be inflicting casualties but they're deferring to Lundqvist, who doesn't. Not yet at least. We don't know if they're contractors or part of O*N*E (Office for National Emergency), a government agency I'm surprised still exists, given its abject failures in containing, protecting, or killing mutant schoolchildren.

- These jerks are Team One, clearly part of a larger group or organisation.

- They're professionals with quite advanced technology, and while one slur doesn't necessarily make them frothing racists, they're seemingly ideologically aligned with this mission.

Meanwhile, Scott ain't home right now. We don't get enough of his conversation with Rogue to see where their relationship is at, but we learn the Uncanny X-Men team are moving on Graymalkin and will not wait to synchronize plans or discuss it further.

- They're moving on Graymalkin? That name has been used quite a bit, so we can't be 100% sure if it's Cable's spaceship (unlikely), Xavier's 200 year old ancestor who was buried beneath the mansion for centuries (also unlikely), Graymalkin Industries, or a little house on Graymalkin Lane.

- Considering Scott's estimation that it'll escalate everything, I have to assume it's the X-Mansion. Rescuing Chuck? I don't see Logan wanting to do that. Killing him? That'd be a no from Rogue. Shutting down the torture prison that Chuck's in? Maybe. There's a lot of threads in the X-books and if the 'strays' came from there it'd tie a bunch together while inciting conflict. I guess we'll see.

- Of course Scott has plans. No clues here as to what they are.

- I've said it before, but I don't buy why these teams are separate or even in conflict with each other. It's going to feel inorganic for as long as we don't get an explanation. In UXM 1, Logan was acting like Schism Logan, which didn't even make sense back then. He's been living with Scott and Jean in a polycule for the last X years, and Scott/Rogue were on a Krakoan team together. These people trust and love each other, they've been family for decades. Everyone considers it a dark time for mutants and they have every reason to both want and need to work together. Show us why they're not! I beg you.

- The aforementioned Lundqvist has showed up with heavies to the diner, which the cop doesn't love. He says it's payback for embarrassing him, but considering what team one are doing that's almost certainly not the full reason.

- Looks like their relationship is adversarial. What's holding him back, though?

- Interesting. It was a government-owned Sentinel factory, and it was part of a settlement. I really want more information on Scott Summers v The United States. She-Hulk was his counsel too, I wonder if she was his trial lawyer on this. I'm assuming settlement has at least 3 meanings there, which is clever.

- I wonder if Scott got to choose. He likes Alaska, I could see him demanding it strategically. If the US chose it, ooof. A sentinel factory about as far as you can get from the Marvel hotspots while still being in the US. The whole 'implication' is ugly as hell too.

Is Scott Summers taking this shit?

As Colossus would say, nyet Tovarich, he is not taking it. Good to see he's not fucking around, though in that list of damages I'm very aware 'being forcibly deported from our nation' is not on it. Krakoa comes up, but it's being deprioritised and erased. It's a fist pump moment, but it still makes me sad.

- Shit yeah, get angry dude. You should be.

- Lundqvist is hard to read but he seems to be put in his place.

- Love the BLT power move.

Hahaha! Look at him chowing down with his mouth full. I just ordered a BLT, sometimes you forget how much you enjoy something until you read or hear about it, you know? Anyway, what does this dickhead want Scott to do about it? You know, aside from what he already is - trying to handle it. If he wasn't stalling for his goon squad I'd dismiss it completely.

- The ongoing mystery of the manifesting mutants gets a nod as national news. I can imagine Tucker Carlson or JK Rowling being the worst with this. The Truthseekers name feels very true to life. Right wing kooks are all about weaponising what is true and what is not.

- Scott not knowing what a thermobaric bomb is has some significance, but I think it tells us more about Lundqvist that he does. They're a fuel only type of explosive mostly associated with atrocities. Research indicates they're a very painful and comparatively slow way to die, bc the brain is still active while the body is torn apart or worse. Fuck this guy.

- I did wonder what those drone looking things were last issue. Seems the Truthseekers have some good technology, and may be looking to deny the X-Men theirs (if they're working with the government, which, come on. They always are.)

HAHAHA. EAT A DICK LUNDQVIST. Okay he's getting to the point. The X-Men make him look bad because they're doing his job and not covering it up.

- Either he doesn't know Scott very well or he's running out of shit to say. I really dig what's happening with body language here.

- X-factor are a joke in and out of universe. Sorry not sorry but Alex is too. I do wonder who has better intel on x-factor. Scott has always valued intelligence, though I wonder if he's more likely to get it from Warren or Alex. Warren is reliable AF, always has been. I can totally see him enduring that embarrassment to be the man on the inside. Alex could go either way tbh. He is not reliable at all. Most recently he moved to Limbo to be with Maddie and it was not a healthy relationship. It was codependent and Alex, at least was delusional. He also spent a while as a demon zombie.

- That's been brushed aside and for some reason he and Lorna seem to have regressed 15 years. They argued and the impression I got was Lorna was team mutant, Alex was team government/human? That kid's a mess so it's hard to tell. They could be running a long con - we'll see.

- But yeah, Scott's not having it. At all. Carrot or stick - choose! I do like the Brotherhood mention but I swear to god this better not be used to villainise Scott and fuel infighting with the Uncanny team.

Meanwhile... Shrike Team One are well prepared for the mission. They can't be sensed psychically or with any technology. Beast gets knocked out like a chump, but Ilyana can see souls.

See what I mean about technology denial? The last Cerebro unit too.

- Obviously it would be a loss but Beast could build another, right?

- Tumblr image limits being what they are I'm not including the action panels. I'll just say they're okay. Nothing amazing.

- Temper/Idie takes them out and laughs at their thermite (really not messing around, that stuff is wild) while getting off a few badass one liners.

- Magneto doesn't join the fray for some reason (He'd solve it instantly) and chats with Temper. Krakoa is mentioned, as is her imprisonment, but I'm not touching that further right now. When they actually show us where Magneto is I'll have lots to say, for now he's just sitting and saying lightweight stuff. Temper doesn't like or respect Mags though.

Wrapping up, the goons failed and the X-Men minus Mags and Beast drop them off.

- The official position is 'yes, we will fight America if you insist. Stop making threats and breaking into my house. Also, my wife is a God. You know that right? Now gtfoh.'

- It's really cool, though we've kinda been here before.

Something is wrong with Scott? It looks like an anxiety attack to me, tbh. Can't blame him, though I have a feeling it's more than that. Full on anxiety disorder/PTSD Cyclops would be new, I wonder if they'd do it. I guess we'll find out.

And to end on some... news... Trevor Fitzroy is back. yay 😮‍💨. Alive somehow, and resurrecting a ludicrous group from the 2000s. I wonder if Shinobi Shaw and Cortez will be there too. He's also killing mutants for ratings, something that's been done as recently as Krakoa. Not looking forward to it. MAKE UP NEW STUFF FFS.

At the end of the day I enjoyed the issue, mostly by virtue of something happening. Cyclops and Agent Lundqvist chatting in a diner carried it with moments that I'm sure we'll be seeing for years to come as 'fuck yeah' posts on Reddit. The art is competent, nothing really stands out for me besides the body language I mentioned. The art style and choices are probably a whole separate post, like why Cyclops looks 25.

Thanks for reading.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Say yes to heaven (say yes to me) ❞

Michael Myers x gn!reader x Corey Cunningham | dating drabble | graphic description of violence, mentions of nsfw things |

req: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with Michael and Corey recently and was wondering if we could get some Michael x Reader x Corey action going here? Just general headcanons of how that relationship would go!! <;33

Your boyfriends are truly on opposite ends on nearly every spectrum.

Not just in age — which, let's discuss before anything else.

Michael is in his 60's while Corey is in his 20's — by themselves? They make a pretty unlikely couple, but they're also clearly deranged, so no one can comment on that.

Throwing you in the picture? Chaos erupts.

Despite his age, Michael's impulse control is something that's held together by a stringy shoelace and tape. Don't get me wrong, Corey's just as awful but somehow it's slightly better than Michael's.

All this to say, if you're just as awful at controlling your impulses? The devil himself will need to leash all three of you before Haddonfield is plunged into total destruction.

The sewers aren't an ideal living space but it brings Michael a smidge of comfort, so when Corey's parents mysteriously 'disappear' he works on making an underground tunnel of sorts so Michael can come and go as he pleases.

Corey and you joke it's basically your boyfriends' doggy door and Michael death-glared from where he stood.

Michael is a tough nut to crack — but his weakness has been and will always be acts of service.

A warm meal, a warm bath, getting bloodstains off his clothes...

Helping him shave.

He is truly spoiled by Corey and you because now when he tries to shave he finds himself inexplicably frustrated it's not your fingers tilting his head back or Corey's deadly hands carefully going along the grain.

You've walked into the bathroom and yelled in shock when the lights switch on to reveal Michael standing near the sink with his razor blade, a frown oh-so-prominent on his face.

"...Do you need some help, babe?" Michael's scruffy face that glowers at you is all the answer you need.

Though a man of few words, the little things he does is more than telling of how much he cares about his lovers.

The daily pouches/bags/backpacks/etc Corey and you use are always filled with your necessities. Whether it be hand sanitiser, wet wipes, or mints — he even makes sure to slip your phones, wallets and keys in before you two leave. Michael doesn't engage in these mundane things but he knows they're important to you so he assists anyways.

Corey fills Michael's silence with his voice. Once he gets to talk about something that interests him, he could talk for hours on end and Michael is a great listener (even if he looks as though he's not paying attention).

Corey's a big fan of physical touch. He loves making it known that you're his in public and adores it just as much when you return the gesture — he turns red when Michael and you hold him between your bodies.

When your murderous partners are off to fulfil their homicidal needs, they tread carefully on their way to the bathroom once they're home. You've laid out a tarp to ease their journey, please keep the crime scene contained, boys.

Michael and Corey stalk you and each other — it can't be helped. They just need to make sure their lovers are safe.

Michael will steal for both of you. If any of you eye something for more than 10 seconds in a store, not 24 hours later it's vanished and 'somehow' appeared in your shared bedroom.

Date nights are comfortable and chaotic. Corey is sweet, his plans involve someplace hidden where the three of you can just be. Michaels' are more unconventional in a way that's endearing because he's an old man and an infamous killer.

Sewers are his go-to transportation and then when the three of you pop out he monotonously gestures to a beautiful home that's almost bordering a mansion. He opens the doors, meanders to the lavish dining room and there's the grand feast the couple he'd just slaughtered were going to eat.

"Thank you, Michael" Corey's grin is impossibly crooked and bright while you press a kiss to Michael's masked cheek — Michael's old heart squeezes with adoration.

Oftentimes, Michael experiences cuteness aggression. He has to hold himself back from physically grabbing you and Corey by your necks and shaking you around.

Peepaw appreciates all your music tastes. As long as you like it, he'll like it.

You're always in the centre when you three cuddle up. It's hot, they run hot — don't recommend it during summer nights.

Your boyfriends are velcro boyfriends though, good luck.

This is a bit silly, but Corey taught Michael about his job (he talked about the ins and outs of vehicles and Michael listened as he watched Corey work on his bike).

Michael can't be trusted on or in vehicles but there was one occasion where a victim had both you and Corey put in a tough spot and Michael had mowed them down on Corey's bike.

Corey picks you up from work but sometimes, an older man dressed in a rugged leather jacket and motorcycle helmet pops up and your coworkers whisper about you allegedly "cheating" on Corey.

("Cheating?" your coworker nods. They had bumped into Corey in a coffee shop and caught the mechanic, their guilt too strong to keep it a secret. To their surprise, Corey laughs as they describe the mysterious older gentleman with scarred hands. "No, no, (Y/N)'s not cheating — that's our boyfriend", your coworkers could not look you in the eye for a few days after that, much too embarrassed.)

Michael is a fan of watching. He's quite content with it, getting off on watching his beautiful lovers writhing in pleasure.

Corey's just pumped full of stamina — so much energy pent up in his body that quickies are rarely ever quick when it comes to Corey.

When Michael joins though? It's one hell of a ride for everyone.

The reason your bedframe is reinforced and your mattress is huge is so clear when your entire body is covered in teeth marks, bruises, scratches and stained with sweat, tears, blood and cum.

Corey's such an eager puppy. Obedient but so stupid when he's drunk on your taste.

Michael's grunts and growls always have you and Corey whining. His hands are just so big that when they cover your mouth you can barely breathe.

The thrill you get knowing the hands that worship and claim you are the same hands that have slaughtered and murdered countless of people? Indescribable.

Sometimes, when they reach the bedroom before they wash up after a kill they all but pounce on you.

"I'll clean it later" Corey mumbles as he rips your sleeping garments away, Michael holds you firmly to his chest — his raging hardon pressed on your ass as you squirm.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you, just, just needed this" Corey's lips are smeared with blood and spit and when you're on all fours with your face against Michael's crotch you know why. Those bloody streaks on his curved cock belonged to Corey whose fucking the air out of your lungs.

Michael has the best head game, lmao. The old man can deep-throat dick like a professional — Corey came so fast when Michael first did it to him and the both of you could not stop pestering Michael on where he learned how to do that.

He teaches both of you his tricks. Refuses to indulge in how he knows it.

[kidge-planet]

Kidge headcanon 60:

(And Allurance!)

Lance and Allura were resting together in Allura's room in the Atlas, wrapped up in the comfort of each other's presence. They had been chatting about various topics, their conversation flowing naturally as they cuddled.

Lance: Hey, am I crazy, or does Keith have a thing for Pidge? Allura: Hmm, I would say Pidge has a thing for him, honestly. Last time, she blushed a bit and got all flustered when he simply made sure she was sleeping and eating enough. Could have been something else, but it's not the first time. Lance: Well, I noticed Keith giving quick glances towards her when we were sitting together, and she was working. And that went on for almost an hour... *They both smiled at the realization.* Lance: Okay, these two are definitely into each other but too dumb and clumsy to do anything about it... Allura: And you're forgetting that both of them are probably focusing on what they have to do. I don't even think they know about their own feelings... Lance: Right! Can you just imagine the day they'll understand how they feel? It's going to be a mess! Allura: This all makes me think... It explains why Kosmo follows Pidge as much as he follows Keith. Cosmic wolves are known to create a sort of magical bond with their owners if they have one. He feels and knows better than us how Keith feels. Kosmo is probably reflecting Keith's mind... Lance: That's probably it. But I can tell, if these two ever get together, it'll take them time to act like an actual couple. I know Pidge never had a boyfriend; she said so, and when I insisted, she punched me. As for Keith, no need to know him. He never had a girlfriend. Allura: How can you be so sure? Lance: The haircut. Allura: You'd be surprised to know how many women I heard in the hallway saying that Keith looked "hot"... Even Veronica said so! Lance: Don't put my sister in this! Allura: Even Acxa! I think she likes him too... Keith is pretty popular with women, and I think he doesn't know it either... Lance: Let's not talk about it. *He crossed his arms and pouted but then kissed her cheek.* Allura: Do you think we should help them? Lance: Help them what? Realize? Don't worry... They have time... They'll figure it out on their own. They're not THAT dumb about feelings, I guess... Allura: You're right... Now, let's make a bet! My bet is that Keith will tell her about his feelings first! Lance: Well, guess I have to pick Pidge! I know she can do it... So yeah, if you win, I prepare a date night for the both of us. If I win, you do! Allura: Deal!

[fuck-customers]

TLDR: this is a cry for help. my sanity is non-existent.

my boss is telling me my coworker is complaining that i'm fucking BRAGGING about having weekends off? like no i'm not, you absolute fucking walnut. you asked me THREE TIMES what my schedule was, and i told you. it's two off two on FOR THE ONE WEEK. i had no idea what the schedule was for the week after, but that's what it was. and then he bothers me about when the manager is going to be in, and i'm going to tell him i'm not her fucking keeper, man. she told me this, stop prying, that's all the info i got.

(he's also walking around saying "oh the boss talked me into weekends" when she didn't. he JUST GOT BACK from a week in florida not a week and a half ago. he WANTED thursdays and fridays off, he asked for them, that's what he GOT. he went and bitched and lied, and he got the weekends. how pissed is he gonna be when he realizes he's gotta work all week sometimes because of the rotating weekend? who knows! we will find out <3)

and then he cries wolf about me getting six cases of bread out telling me people are walking away with it (which- one goes to one area, the other five stay where they are) and the manager told him that. that's? how many cases we use? why are you fucking crying about that? also if they're walking away with bread, you're not doing your fucking job?

he says "THERE'S 13 SLICES IN A BOX. I CHALLENGE YOU. I CHALLENGE YOU RIGHT NOW. GO THROUGH ALL THOSE BOXES OF BREAD AND COUNT THEM."

i look him dead in the eye and go "i'm not going through all those boxes of bread. not all of them have thirteen slices per bag, and we use five cases. if they need more, we pull it from stock." and i pissed him off. i've never felt more vindicated in my life.

if it's not him, it's the almost 60 year old coworker who brags about keeping a clown restaurant alive for 30 years every chance she gets, and gets pissed at me for sitting down for TWO MINUTES because my ankles hurt. i don't do things her way, she gets an attitude with me, she YELLS at me. and then she has the audacity to say "it's nothing against you!" like that's going to make it any fucking better. and for someone with 30 years of experience, she sure doesn't act professional to any degree.

also the two pawning things off for me to do (which is me doing EVERYTHING, by the way!) and blaming me for the mistakes. my manager and i noticed that yesterday. <3

Posted by admin Rodney.

[sunny1616]

Deluded Pt. 1

Matteo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You and Matteo have a toxic yet addictive bond. Both of you know it and can't help but feed into it further. But what happens when the limit is found and crossed?

Warnings ⚠️: toxic relationship, swearing, arguing

"Sttawpp Matteeo.. i have to get to class..." Matteo, has you trapped in an outdoor alcove at the courtyard. His hands bracket your hips, and his head is nuzzled in the sweet spot between your neck and collar bone. At your request for him to stop his perusal of your neck, he responds with a giggle that tickles you under your jawline. "This is no joke! McGonagall will kill me if i show up late for the third time this month!!... MATTEO IM SERIOUS.." You then brace your forearms against his chest and push off.

"Comme onnn. That old witch won't notice. Know-it-all-Granger takes up all her attention in that class. I know you dont want to go, so why are you wasting this precious, precious time?.." At the last two words, his face is back on the same sensitive spot. And you wiggle again with less will to end it.

"Ughhh, at this rate, we both won't ever graduate. Don't you ever take anything at least a bit seriously?" This was partly a jest, but you also wanted to know if Matteo had the right priorities.

"Why do you have to ruin the mood? Who the fuck cares about school? Both our families are loaded anyway. You could work at any department at the Ministry even if you didnt pass Divination. Besides, no one goes to classes anyways. Blaise, Crab, Goyle, and Theo- even Pansy doesn't give a shit most of the time! BE MORE LIKE HER AND STOP KILLING MY BONER" He ends with an annoyed exasperation. You just gape at his complete disregard for school. Sure, you weren't a stellar student, but you gave at least 60% of an effort. Better than 0, duh?!

"I dont want to be like all those people!! If i want to do something worthwhile after grad, imma have to learn a thing or two to be of some use. My mommy and daddys money can't buy that STUPID!!" Eyes wide, you think about picking up your bag to leave, but before you can reach down, he's already hissing again.

"Holy fuck... your such a fucking tease right now. Fine. Go. I dont give a fuck. You're not irreplaceable, there are 20 other bitches that'll gladly take your place with me right now over some dumbass class." He then frenziedly takes out a cigarette and lights it. Not even looking at you.

After a pause and a breath, you finally say, "Wow. How fucking fragile are you? You cant even go a minute without having your dick wet can you? Its pathetic... Im sorry that i have other priorities than you, a raging manslut!! And since you have 20 other girls under me, i invite you to go to them because im sooo fucking done with your ass. They're all probably waiting oh so patiently too for me to let you go. Too bad for them to soon figure out what a DISAPPOINTING MESS YOU ARE."

"Haha yea right. Let's see how you like it when you can't have me. You're gonna wish you had chosen differently. While i on the other hand get to finally HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN. GO DRY YOUR PUSSY OUT WITH MCGONAGALL AND TRY NOT TO GET RUG BURN WHEN YOU CRAWL BACK TO ME." You're already halfway across the courtyard and dont even turn back when you scream:

"I HOPE YOU KNOW THE NUMBERS BETWEEN 0 AND 20 WHEN YOU COUNTDOWN YOU DUMB FUCKER!!"

You sort of speed stomp across the yard to reach the hallway. Then quickly go to the changing staircase to get onto the right set of stairs in order for you to arrive to class on time.

Now that the nerves of almost missing class have subsided, you are now fuming about everything else. How could he say all those things to you? Though you know Matteo and what he's capable of your delusional thoughts creep in to ask; did he truly mean all those things? He won't actually hook up with other girls, right? Deep down, you knew the answer but still refused to trust it. Matteo is more unlike his father than he is like his father. But in regards to keeping true to his threats, you could say it runs in the family.

Author note: i hope yall are angry at Matteo. Hehe. Part 2 coming soon!

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

Do you have anything to say about my baby, the Honda CR-Z?

(Please excuse the low resolution, I wanted to introduce it with a pic from my collection and this was the only stock one I had)

Oh, the CR-Z... Pepperidge Farm here remembers obsessively following its debut on Top Gear Magazine! Pepperidge Farm and not many others, it seems, as in present day the CR-Z seems to be as relevant in today's car world as basket weaving. Wait, no, less.

In fact, coming up with an answer to this question was the most I thought about the CR-Z in almost a decade.

But thought I have, so here's your answer:

I don't get it.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like it! I am on record as a serial Honda liker -hell, to those who think it counts I own one- and I see no reason this one should buck the trend (although I've always felt it would look better with something between the headlights to stop it looking so big-snooty, as the bumper below does a good enough job of exemplifying that I won't bother rendering something better).

It's just that... I don't know what the point of it was. And looking at its sales that seems to be the experience of most vertebrates.

(To be fair, U.S. sales started in August 2010 and production ended in 2016 with the following years's sales just being stock clearing - but still, pretty bleak picture.)

It's not like we don't know what Honda were going for, they told us plainly: it's a sporty hybrid car, light on the wallet but heavy on the fun. And Honda would know of sporty compacts - what were they producing as the CR-Z rolled out?

Oh. It's the most hated of all six Civic Type R generations. Hm.

It's a joke, "most hated Civic Type R generation" is a bit like saying "most normal Kia Soul commercial".

If that car looks unfamiliar to you yankees, however, that's because y'all got different looking Civics for a while, such that your sporty Civic was this, the Si - seen here in the bewinged Mugen trim.

The Si is meant to sit below the Type R, but, since America wasn't getting the Type R, the yankee Si and non-yankee Type R were free to get the same 200hp from the same venerable engine (one day I'll go over all that makes the K20 so great) and the usual great handling, courtesy among plenty things of a limited slip differential. Wait, why is that not a link? Ah, right, I've never explained differentials... well, for now you can just trust that it's a cool type of differential that helps maintain grip when you're giving it the beans. Wait. Is it "giving it the beans" because you're stomping the gas pedal? Surely not. What is it from? Let me google this... Okay, sources seem scarce and shaky but apparently the idea was that if you fed horses beans they wou- wait this post is about the CR-Z. How did we get here? I swear this NEVER happens.

In short, Honda knew, and has always known, how to make proper sporty cars and give them great engines, whatever their size. So can it possibly have been a surprise when this thing came out and, forget motoring journalists, even the more talkative stray cats were meowing that the CR-Z did not have the engine grunt to back up its sporty pitch?

And look, if anyone here will say a car with as little as 120-130hp cannot be worth bothering with, it won't be a diehard of the Mazda Miata, which sold well over half a million units no more powerful than that. But that's a car that focused on open top enjoyment and getting a lot out of a little, just like the 60s European spiders it threw back to. What did the CR-Z throw back to?

Well that'll be the CR-X.

Introduced in 1983, the CR-X was a coupe version of the Civic of the time (hence its 1987 update corresponding with the Civic's). And just like the Civic in question, it is most fondly remembered for its sporty, proper-fun Si guise (pronounced "ass eye", because eye me dat ass) and the even sportier SiR that yankees never got. Which makes perfect sense, considering its main appeal against the Civic was the sportier looks.

Sure, since the CR-X left us North America got a Civic coupe in its stead, but am I going to pretend this thing looked half as good as the CR-Z that was about to join the lineup?

Not for free I'm not.

So now, imagine the stellar engine and manual transmission from a Civic Si/Type R, but now with electric assistance for even more power AND fuel efficiency, all in a car hundreds of kilos lighter, significantly shorter -thus more agile- and with the sleek CR-Z looks.

Then keep imagining.

The CR-Z never got an Si or Type R version, it was just left to sit there with its 122hp (later begrudgingly upped to 130) that, forget the contemporary sporty Civics, compared unfavorably to its 30 year old predecessor.

The CR-X was the sportier Civic. If its successor gets walked not just by the Civic but even by the CR-X itself, what's the point of the resurrection?

However, I concede there's an objection to this argument: this graph.

These are the US sales figures for the second generation CRX (which I think dropped the dash?), and, if you were to be able to parse it, you'd notice that the sporty Si version made up about a third of the sales - meaning most buyers forewent the sportiness in favor of the lower cost of the standard DX model or the High F-iciency of the even slower HF model. So if those versions sold well, why shouldn't the CR-Z have?

Well, if you ask me: image is more than looks.

This blog -and other affiliated entities- touched on the concept of race wins on Sunday bringing sales on Monday, and the same phenomenon happens with cool sport versions. Today's Corolla is a much cooler car in the eyes of the people who see in it the underlying foundation of its extraordinary GR version, and this phenomenon is most amplified the smaller the gap -or perceived gap, at least- between the version you're admiring and the more modest version you could realistically be interested in. I strongly believe that many people bought the dog slow CRX HF because the CRX Si ingrained within them the idea that they were buying something cool.

And Honda, as we touched on, had the perfect engine to dump into the CR-Z to make a wicked sport version. Hell, they could even have just given its regular engine forced induction - and we know it because the CR-Z Mugen RZ did just that!

Here at last was a perfectly respectable sport version that, while still underneath the Civic's best power-wise, was more than good enough to make car enthusiasts give a damn about the CR-Z. And what did Honda do with it? They limited the production to 300 units and only sold them in Japan. Take a fucking drink.

I cannot fathom why they would do that. It's not that they couldn't homologate the power additions or whatever, because a. that doesn't justify the limited production run and b. the supercharger (or at least a supercharger, not sure if it's the same) was made available in the US in the form of a dealer-fitted optional extra. Not by selling a supercharged special version altogether, no no, that may cause the public to -gasp- notice and care.

What was the point? Were they deliberately trying to keep the CR-Z's image one of an efficiency-focused... sleek hatch-coupe with minimal backseats?

Wait what?

Dear God, yankees, what have you done to Honda to get done so comically dirty?

Is it just that they thought y'all too big to fit back there?

That makes it even crazier!

Why in tarnation would they think people would care about a sleek, three-door, two seat, manual... efficiency-oriented hybrid?

Oh, right. Because they made the first generation Honda Insight. Which I myself love.

This was even sleeker and more hardcore than the CR-X: it was as light as the lightest ones despite the electric powertrain, it did without backseats entirely, it was the most aerodynamic production car that had ever been built... but all this wasn't about performance at all. It was about milking every drop of your hard-earned fuel for every single fucking inch of forward movement it was worth.

And it sold very well! I mean, look at the yearly sales figures!

Look how much America loved it! In a year of production that started from December it sold around a third the units the CRX sold in a full year!

So imagine what the production numbers were like for the year 2000!

huh?

Oh you mean these are the total sales. Like, all the first generation Insights ever sold in its entire six years and change of production. Oh. And it totals to like 17.000. Which is around how many CRX Si they sold in a year in North America alone. Hm.

Yeah, it suddenly makes a lot more sense how the second generation Insight was a Prius wannabe.

In fact, now that I look at it... that back looks familiar, doesn't it?

Wait...

Wait!

Well, now suddenly the car makes a lot more sense. And actually, come think of it, let me check the sales figures for the Mk2 Insight...

Considering, again, the CR-Z's US debut happened in August 2010, they match up pretty well, and it would be a pretty reasonable sales split if we were to consider them the 5 and 3 door versions of the same car.

Now, this may make it seem like it wasn't such a failure after all, and it did well in the segment it was actually intended to compete in. But let's give some context on how good those Insight sales figures are.

Yeah. Yeah no. The second Insight just wasn't a hit either.

But at least, now I can say I get the car. The Insight was pretty big and... uncool, so the CR-Z was a good way to offer that same hybrid efficiency to people who wanted a more compact, sleeker package - though perhaps not as extreme as the first gen Insight. Unless you're a yankee, I assume.

The name still doesn't make sense.

I mean, it would if I could see Honda seeing CR-X as just... a body style, and its resurrection of it akin to resurrecting, say, the Civic Shuttle.

(It was the only side picture I had saved.)

And Honda's press material made another point to this end, that I wasn't aware of.

So sure. Point taken. The CR-X was shaped by the quest for efficiency, so it follows that its successor would be efficiency focused as well.

But that's not how the CR-X is remembered. In everyone's minds, the CR-X is cemented as the sporty version (that Honda sold, mind - this is not like with the Supra, whose reputation was defined by modders). And the weirdest thing is, they don't just know that, they bring it up.

And indeed, they call the CR-Z's role "quite different from the original Insight coupe's" - they want this car to "change the current perception of hybrids" by blending hybrid efficiency and sportiness. They rightly sell its looks as sporty, take great pride in the manual transmission and explicitly state it's for driver engagement, over and over talk about 'enthusiastic' owners and 'enthusiastic' driving and 'enthusiastic' engine note etc etc. They brag about how much of a difference their Sport mode makes. They call attention to the valves per cylinder. They constantly remind of how (unlike the Insight) it has the legendary V-TEC. (If this is the first you hear of it, ask about it in the tags).

This is the press release for a sports hatch.

But when time came to give it a sports hatch's power? Japan got 300 units, North America got a dealer-fitted kit with a numbered plaque two years before the car's nixing, and we had to hope to never have a flat tire because Europe didn't get jack.

Was it to avoid stepping on the toes of the sporty Civics, because if the sporty CR-Z's potential buyers will otherwise just get a sporty Civic then why make two models to get the same amount of buyers? If so, I'll tell you why: because that was the only chance of moving regular CR-Zs, which surely must have been a worthwhile pursuit if you made the damn thing.

Was it the fear of a power-focused engine resulting in fuel economy so underwhelming it would undermine the model's eco premise? If so, heyo, you have electric assistance, which means you can either get more speed out of the same engine marking a win for the hotboys or get the same speed out of a more efficient package - and in both cases you're showing a hybrid powertrain bringing something to the table, which is how you actually "change the perception of hybrids" in the minds of people who consider them synonymous with boring.

I'm not saying my counters are bulletproof or that there is no argument against a hot CR-Z. I'm just saying that if there is, it's an argument against the regular CR-Z also. Because if the CR-Z was never to be something worth considering over anything that could be called sporty, then they should never have bothered to begin with - at least, if they were going to aim it so squarely at "the enthusiastic drivers".

In short,

Honda sought to make a sportscar - be it to sell the car itself or to sell a concept like "we're committed to preserving driving enjoyment even into electrification" or "hybrids are cool, so buy a hybrid, and please don't whine if we ever need to make a hybrid Type R or whatever thanks". And I'm always down for Honda building a sportscar. It was Honda that wasn't, for whatever reason. And so there the CR-Z stood, waiting until its passing for a sportier engine that would show the world how cool it was. But it never came. And it bugs me. Because I find it a shame. Because I remember reading of the Mugen prototype and waiting with bated breath for the production version that we ultimately never got. Because I still would love to see them about more than I do. Because I wish the second generation that apparently was in the works got to see the light of day.

Because, even after all these days of thinking about Honda's strategy and learning all we went over, and perhaps because of it,

I still don't get it.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

[afreakingdork]

READER STAN DROPPING IN FROM A HOSPITAL BED AND BOOOOY THIS CHAPTER IS FEEDING ME SO MUCH BETTER THAN HOSPITAL SANDWICHES GYAAAAAAHHH. He said it!! he said it!!

Everything Leo's done and he's outclassed by SANDWICH /j but oof. I knew Leo must have an understandable miff against Reader but seeing him admit just how deep that jealousy goes?? Because of course. Because Donnie's his *twin*, because they've had this song and dance of being at eachother's throats and in spite of that Leo still yearns for some sort or connection or an excuse to sever it completely.

It lowkey makes me remember the discussion if how WS!Donnie would react to his close-canon self/Crush too much self. How would *Leo* react to seeing a version of him that got into Donnie's space freely and without worry? A version of himself that got to wholly have Donnie as family,as a full fledged twin brother with no hard eggshells to walk on?

READER STAN, YOU ARE HOSPITALIZED?!?!?! I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY!!!! I'M SENDING HEALING VIBES!!! 😭😭😭 IM WORRIED ABOUT YOU!!!

This Leo reveal is so momentousness because I've been sitting on it for years and you've summed it up so nicely here! If we think about the timeline first in Weak Spot, though scary, when the bastard's three are introduced, we seem them as a little scary, but Leo is trying to do this bit in the midst of it and it doesn't fit and it feels wrong. Then when reader really meets Leo, he's bitter and paranoid and nothing like that person and so knowing what we know now, you see the aptly named song and dance was Leo's only source of connection. As bitter and cruel was it was, as lethal, it was the only one he had and that worked, but then we piece in more such as how Leo talks about how Donnie was finally gone, how they finally beat him back and there's such a bile there, like that's not something he wanted and then Donnie reappears, with some human, and he's different, he isn't playing the game and by all accounts he's wrong. Donnie is new and not the person Leo has known almost a lifetime and this upset Leo so so very deeply. Then, then, we place a recent piece about how reader said they understood Leo's banter comment from chapter 60. That's Leo comment about how they always do banter from chapter 19. In 60, Leo laughs. Leo laughs. Why laugh? Just because of the callback or because of something else? Because Leo then specifies he's lost his mind. Because reader doesn't get it. Because reader has made a critical error. Reader interfered.

I don't know! That came from somewhere where I've been sitting on this for WAY WAY too long!!! Thanks for letting me expound on it!

Oh DOING THAT WITH LEO!? THAT'S DELICIOUS, LET'S SEE: WS!Leo would need to talk to CTM!Leo. He would need to hear the story, just seeing it would not be enough for him. Hearing this other Leo talk about being the ultimate wingman and how he sacrificed for the team and all he did would bring WS!Leo to absolute tears. CTM!Leo would be sort of embarrassed like, hey big guy, it can't be that bad right? And WS!Leo would clamp a hand on his shoulder and try to suck it back up and tell him he did a good job which would surely water CTM!Leo's eyes from that (older) adult and self approval! For canon, he'd watch it like he were watching the TV show and just smile.

[starmage-constellar]

anyone talking about the secondary musical reference in thisisnotawebsitedotcom?

i dare say i'm stretching it but

with a capital "T", and that rhymes with "P" and stands for "pool"? or, even, words like.. like "swell?" (trouble, trouble, trouble.)

or, if you want to go even further, he's got a girl in every county [...] and that's 102 counties!

the speech predates the musical by a whole 5 years but i think that's the least of our concerns

(more nerdass explanations down below)

if you're not familiar with what musical is being referenced here, i don't blame you. it was a broadway phenomenon in the late 50s-early 60s in america, later had a (rather stellar) hollywood adaptation, and an at-home movie adaptation in 2003.

it's called "the music man," and the only reason i even know of the musical is because it's one of my dad's favorites.

now, i could just stop here, leave you with the information, and go on my merry way. but as someone who is (for better or for worse) very well acquainted with the story of "the music man," you bet your bottom dollar that i noticed some parallels right quick.

the protagonist of "the music man," harold hill, is a traveling con man who's so well-versed at the art of sales that he can put up with the speedy advancements of society without an issue. he seems to have a particular scheme of promising to set up marching bands all around illinois, then running with the money before they get a chance to check him out for anything.

though, of course, professor hill proves himself not a con man for the sake of one person. a lovely librarian and pianist, marian paroo. she's a skeptic and sees professor hill for the scam artist that he is, and attempts to distance herself from him and prove he's a liar. sounds familiar, doesn't it?

(though, of course, ms. paroo doesn't set professor hill on fire, and emmaline doesn't start dating the pseudo-alive silas at the end of the story.)

now, there's already enough comparison to make here already, even if half-assed, but i'd like to take a deeper look at the specific song that silas was mentioning here. "ya got trouble."

professor hill, a little bit after settling into our story's setting of river city, illinois, is informed that the billiard room was just hooked up with a new pool table. this sets off his plan to rally river city to his side: convince them of the trouble that could arise from such "sinful" activities such as your teenaged kids sneaking off to... play pool!

"Just as I say; it takes judgement, brains, and maturity to score In a balkline game; I say that any boob Can take and shove a ball in 'a pocket And I call that sloth; The first big step on the road to the depths of deg-ra-day I say, first: medicinal wine from a teaspoon ... then beer from a bottle!"

the narrative of the song follows professor hill deluding the crowd into his point: don'tcha see what we've come to? the new pool tables here? heck, pool at all, for that matter! do you want your kids bein' enticed by sin like that, hm? influencin' their fickle, innocent minds with this sort of stuff when they can't fight against the devil, unlike us adults?!

(note, "mass-staria" is a portmanteau of "mass hysteria")

silas does almost the EXACT opposite, in terms of message. isn't conformity boring? society, law; it's all so mundane! conformity's made in order to hide what you're REALLY meant to be: a crazed, sinful animal! you were MEANT to act on your impulses, every desire you've had. stop following the flock, and follow those who renounce society, like me.

take a listen for yourself, too, i'm sure you could find even more to it if you looked deeper, dug further.

and i'm sure i have more thoughts, but i think i might've lost my own plot on this one.