#you're telling me you haven't heard the criticism????

[jyndor]

just want to co-sign what is in this post right here. I talk about fandom racism all the time and I never, ever get hateful shit in response. honestly I keep my anon on, I am abrasive in my language and I’ve only ever a couple mildly irritating messages but never anything serious. that’s why when that anon asked for blogs about cassian that I love I didn’t give any because I know that the best blogs I follow for cass content (some of whom I consider my friends) are POC and/or latine and I have NO interest in unintentionally opening them up to some weirdo who might see them criticize fandom racists and then get fucking vicious with them, especially since I’ve gotten a weird amount of new followers lately and sorry folks but I don’t know yall, we’ve never met, I’ve not talked with you. nothing personal but fandom is extremely white and never handles conversations around fetishization, whitewashing and other forms of racism well.

these racists know what they are doing. they know that a white fan like me isn’t going to be hurt or triggered by being called racist slurs and being spammed with racist* abuse (I mean it’s horrible to see but it’s not personal to me, it’s not something we have that generational trauma over). it’s not going to work - and the goal is to silence voices of color and marginalized people. they don’t care to silence a white voice. in fact we usually get praise and like idk people just cosigning what we say.

white fans who claim to be anti-racist allies, we need to be explicitly, actively anti-racist. we gotta stand up for our friends and everyone else in these spaces who gets the abuse we don’t get.

*just to clarify because i didn’t know how to say this concisely but I mean some racist anon sending me racist shit isn’t harmful to me, not that you can be racist to me lol just to be clear.

[cvnntagious]

Leave 'Em Alone | C. Sturniolo

"I can't leave 'em alone / Try to change my ways, but the dope boy turnin' me on." -Quality Control

pairing : Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

summary : You find yourself running to Boston's local dealer the second he says he needs you, despite the various warnings you've been given about him.

warnings : use of y/n, swearing, mentions + use of drugs (marijuana only), "sneaky" link, SMUT, p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, pet names (princess/good girl/baby), spanking, denying orgasms, SUPER ROUGH 18+

a/n : this's a lot longer than intended so settle in. this's my first tumblr fic, feel free to give me constructive criticism! also, the name for your older sister's random, but you can just ignore it if you don't like it

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"You're not even listening, are you?" Your sister asked from beside you, causing your eyes to flick from the nail tech in front of you to her.

You shook your head. "I am! I am, it's just-- I'm almost 19 now, I think I can handle him," You replied, shrugging slightly before reminding yourself not to move too much.

"It's just not healthy," She disagreed in a hushed tone before lifting her freshly manicured nails to her face to get a closer look, "Oh, sorry! Can I get one more layer of polish on the left?" She asked the nail tech nicely before looking back at you. "Does he tell you he loves you? 'Cause that'd be a boldfaced lie." Your sister questioned disapprovingly.

You pulled your nails from the curing light, placing them on her lap to let her see as you gave a sweet 'Thank you' to your nail tech. "No, Avery. I'm not dumb. It's... casual," You said simply as your sister smiled at the acrylics you showed her.

"No, of course not! He is, though."

"Come on, don't be like that. Just because you don't like him doesn't mean he's dumb."

"He was this close not graduating with our class. You do remember that, don't you? You were only a grade below." Avery raised an eyebrow at you before letting out a quick chuckle, "I mean, hell, he almost didn't even graduate with his brothers. How embarrassing..."

You couldn't help but chuckle with her, rolling your eyes lightheartedly, "Can we just be done talking about Chris for now? I'm tired of it." You sighed dramatically, "We haven't even seen each other in, like, two weeks."

"Fine," Your sister shrugged reluctantly as she took her hands out of the curing light, thanking her nail tech like you had done minutes before. Avery held her hands up to you as the two of you stood up from the salon chairs, showing you her nails while you grabbed your phone off of the seat.

You gasped, smiling as you grabbed her hands to draw them in for a closer look. "I'm obsessed," You squealed, looking up with a toothy grin, "I should've gotten a design or something too!"

Avery laughed, reaching down to grab her purse once you'd let go of her hands. "Why didn't you? You usually do," She asked as the two of you walked up front to pay.

You only gave her a quick shrug, ignoring the text that had popped up on your phone. "I wanted to keep it simple this time, I guess." Avery nodded in acknowledgement as the two of you stopped at the front, reading the bill given to you two for $130. Your older sister began opening up her purse, only for you to gently move her out of the way, apple pay already open.

"I got it," You said simply, holding your phone up to the machine in front of you until you heard the ding that let you know the transaction was approved. Avery stood behind you in confusion before you turned to look at her, giving her a small, close-lipped smile. "Don't worry, it's not my money."

Avery's confused expression somehow twisted into an even more confused one, her eyebrows knitted together. "Who's is it then?" She asked curiously as she followed you out of the salon.

You turned to look at her, a timid tilt of your head as you pretended to think about it. "Chris'," You answered hesitantly, your voice a little quieter than intended.

"Oh my gosh, Y/n, you just said you haven't seen each other in weeks," Avery sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in distress.

"But I never said we hadn't texted," You whined, looking back down at the phone in your hand to see three new messages had popped up while on silent. You sighed, looking back up at her, "Look, I love you so much, and I'm glad we got to spend some time together again, but I have to be somewhere soon," You said, leaning in to give your sister a kiss on the cheek before she could respond, "Text me later, yeah?"

━★

You opened the unlocked front door and stepped inside, the smell of weed and the sound of 'Red Roses' by Lil Skies filling your senses; Both only getting stronger with each step you took into the house. You heard voices coming from the kitchen under the music, causing you to follow them through the progressively thickening cloud of smoke until you stopped in the doorway, knocking on it lightly to get his attention.

Chris instantly looked up from the clear bag of dried leaves in front of him, tossing the purple-green nug he had in his hand back into it as his serious expression turned into a cocky smirk. He look the lit blunt from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray on the table, turning his attention from you to the man holding two bags of weed just like the one Chris previously took his hand out of. "You got everything you need?" He asked, looking up at the tall man for an answer.

"I believe so," He replied, adjusting the baseball cap on his bald head.

"Good, then get out," Chris said simply, no aggression in his tone as he rounded the table to walk closer to you.

"We were gonna-"

"Look man, my girl's here - I haven't seen her in a minute. I'll hit you later," Chris cut him off, his words rolling off his tongue so casually. You were well aware he'd called you 'his girl'.

The man only nodded, as if he had an underlying understanding of what was going on. He grabbed his belongings off the table, still holding the bags of weed as Chris counted hundreds quietly beside you, the paper ruffling. Chris folded the money and shoved it in his back pocket once the man was close enough to dab up, the two patting each others backs with quick goodbyes before he'd made his way out of the front door.

With that, Chris looked back at you, the same cocky smirk from earlier appearing on his face. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you closer. "You done ghosting me randomly or what?" Chris asked, teeth peeking through his smile, his first words to you since you'd entered his house.

"Where's Matt and Nick?" You ignored his question, peering over Chris' shoulder as you reached up to dangle your arms off of them.

"Away." He answered, licking his sharp canine as he chuckled at your dismissiveness, "They're never home when I deal."

You hummed, your eyes finding their way back to Chris' blue eyes, dimmed by the glossy red of the THC in his system. "Are you done being so difficult?" You finally asked in retort.

"Difficult?" He echoed in a teasing tone, leaning in to attach his lips to the warm skin of your neck, pushing your hair back, "Awh, when have I ever?" His warm breath fanned your neck as he spoke.

Your head instinctively moved to the side to give him more access, feeling his wet lips sucking gently. Once he pulled back, you brought your right hand up to press your thumb on his bottom lip, looking into his eyes. "Did you get what I wanted?" Chris asked, reaching up to grab your wrist gently and look at the wine red acrylics on your fingers.

He chuckled, planting a tender kiss on your knuckles, "Oh, so you are a good girl after all?" He looked up into your eyes again, "Just wanted to be a little bratty? See if I care?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes at him, "Maybe I did. What about it?"

Chris shook his head, giving you a quiet click of his tongue, "Nothing about it," He answered to your surprise, "M'gonna make up for lost time, yeah?" He added, almost whining before capturing your lips in a wet kiss, turning you so your back was against the door frame as he held your chin between his fingers. His hands slid down your body, stopping at your waist to hold you in place as he slid his tongue between your lips, exploring the inside of your mouth as if it were new territory.

After a few moments, Chris pulled away from your guys' heated makeout, lifting you up and slinging you over his shoulder. "Chris!" You yelled, pure shock in your voice as he began carrying you up the stairs of his house, your hands gripping the back of his black t-shirt.

He shushed you, a low chuckle causing your body to shake on top of his shoulder a little, "I got you," He assured you, not stopping until he made it to his bedroom, plopping you down onto the middle of his bed. You looked up at him, planting your hands behind you on his mattress to hold yourself up as he walked to his light, dimming it before pulling his phone out to play a more intimate song on the speaker just below the two of you.

He walked back over to the bed, grinning widely. As soon as he was close enough, he climbed onto his bed, kicking his shoes off as he towered over you on his knees. He reached down to caress your awestruck face, unable to speak. You'd wanted this for weeks, despite all the things your sister and friends have said to convince you otherwise. Why couldn't you just leave him alone?

Before you knew it, Chris had you stripped down to your underwear, smirking at the sight of the red thong you'd put on to match the nails you'd get soon after and the slightly darker dampened patch around your core. He hummed as he bent down before you, "How cute," He said simply before placing a gentle kiss on the patch, causing you to clench around nothing. "You wan' me eat that pussy like it's ice cream, hm?" He licked up your clothed slit, feeling his warm tongue through the thin fabric.

It didn't take long for him to remove your thong too, sucking light red marks down your inner thighs agonizingly slow as you watched his every move in silence. "Got nothing to say?" He asked, finally kissing you where you needed him most, the slick on your folds making the middle of his lips wet, "Don't worry, you will." With that, his tongue dropped from his mouth to slide up your slit, stopping to swirl around your clit.

You sucked in a sharp breath, and he lifted his head to meet your eyes, licking his lips to savor your taste before he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you into him, "Taste so good." His thumbs reached down to part your lower lips, the start of his ruthless attack on your clit. His tongue swirled and sucked, occasionally lapping to slip into your hole. You couldn't help the moans and whines that left your mouth as your head finally rested on his mattress, eyes screwing shut as your jaw remained slack. A knot formed in your stomach and the sound of him slurping your juices filled his room before he flattened his tongue, shaking his head back and forth to elicit strained moans from you, your back lifting off his bed.

Chris could feel your legs start to tremble beneath him, letting him know you were close. Just as your orgasm was about to crash into you, your hands gripping the blankets beside him so hard that your knuckles turned white, Chris pulled away,* "Chris!" You whined at the way he'd left you a trembling mess in his arms.

Chris licked his lips, reaching up to wipe the mix of saliva and slick off of them, "Knew you'd have something to say," He said gruffly, "Sit up," He demanded before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You did as he said, pushing yourself onto your knees in front of him. Chris continued stripping, pulling his belt out of the loops to drop his pants and toss them off the bed beside him, revealing the aching tent in his boxers he'd been hiding. You swallowed hard at the sight, not paying attention to the way he gauged your reaction. "Let me see those pretty nails I paid for," He said after your guys' moment of silence, reaching down to grab your wrist and bring it up to the bulge.

He shivered when you outstretched your fingers, caressing his clothed tip as you looked into his eyes. He gave you a semi-nervous chuckle to hide the moan he wanted to let out, not willing to give up his pride like that with you just yet. He could handle a simple touch, he knew he could. "Gonna need a pic of this," He said, reaching down beside him and grabbing his phone.

"What?" You asked, pulling your hand away in embarrassment.

"Princess," He said lowly, reaching out to grab your hand and pull it to him again, "Just one picture." He assured quietly, snapping the pic with his flash on as soon as your hand met his length, the red nails a nice contrast to the dark gray boxers that almost (but not completely, if you look close enough) hid his arousal.

As soon as he'd gotten what he wanted, he threw his phone on the floor next to his pants with a loud bang, practically pouncing on you to attach your lips to your neck. "M'gonna fuck you so good," He said breathlessly as he hooked his fingers under the waistband if his draws, pulling them down effortlessly as he plopped you onto the bed beneath him, your head meeting the pillow just below the headboard.

His fully erect length hit his stomach as he looked down at your soaked core, his fingers caressing the outside. Just then, it hit him, making him quickly pull his hand up from between you two. "A condom would be handy," He explained his sudden jolt, beginning to lift himself.

You grabbed the back of his arms, stopping his movements. "No condom," You said softly.

"Y/n, not sure if my pull out-" He started, pausing when he saw the serious expression on your face. He clicked his tongue, laughing as he shook his head, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you out here tryna be my wifey," Chris teased, lining himself up with your entrance.

He rubbed his tip against your cunt a few times, groaning as he pressed himself inside of you slowly. Your jaw went slack and you eyes clenched shut again when you felt him filling you up, his angled dick and mushroom tip brushing your insides just right. Chris hummed at the feeling of you already clenching around him, waiting for you to adjust.

It wasn't long before he pulled back slowly, snapping his hips into you for the first time tonight. With all his sensual words earlier, you'd half expected him to be gentle, but boy were you wrong. He began bucking his hips into you relentlessly, not even easing into the rough fucking. Each deep stroke forced a moan out of you, Chris grunting above you. He slowed for a moment, lifting your legs over his shoulders to get better access to your cervix before shoving his tip into it.

You clawed at his back with your new acrylics as strained noises flew out of your mouth, your back arching off of his bed once more. You began trembling again, causing Chris to mock your moans. "Oh, oh! You want it so bad," He teased, a smile tugging on his lips as he squinted his eyes at you. "Mm, fuck, Chris! Chris, give it to me," He continued on.

He smacked the side of your thigh, causing you to gasp, "Say it, Y/n," He said, spanking you again, this time rubbing the red print he'd left, "Say you want it."

"I want it," You whined out, almost unable to catch your breath as he fucked into you so hard that the headboard crashed against the wall, "I need it."

"Oh, you need it?" He asked, feigning a pout before somehow thrusting into you harder, groaning through his teeth. Then, he stopped.

"You're not getting it yet." He pulled out quickly.

wc : 2.7k !

[oval3000]

Chapter 2

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

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

Jacob slammed one of the medicine drawers close after getting the bottle of pills from a specific patient. "I don't know what miracle came down here, but we haven't had an accident in a month." He said to a fellow nurse standing next to him.

"Don't jinx it," she said grabbing the pill bottle from his hands.

"You know," he stared at your section, watching as you typed what you needed into the computer," ever since she started working here, König hasn't bashed anyone's heads."

"Well it's only been a month since she started working here, I wouldn't be relieved yet." She said, popping two pills into a Dixie cup.

"Yeah well I'm very optimistic about this." He got up and walked away. "Oh if the drawer gets stuck again, just bang on it a few times."

"It would be better if they just get new ones," she sighed, walking away towards her row of patients.

He rolled his eyes, "please they're too stingy to buy new bed sheets."

You have been working here for a month and so far everything was okay. You do what you need to do and things go smoothly.

As for König, he hasn't said or do anything towards you. You honestly felt like they were fooling you by telling you all those stories about his past nurses and guards.

You learned more about the staff names on all floors. König's two guards are named Eli and Gabriel. They both make sure that nothing happens to you aswell as any other staff.

You met Dr. Smith. You first impression of her was a little stiff. Mainly because she was direct and serious. She doesn't really make small talk to any of the nurses only the administrator. She also doesn't really fond of you. Well it's not like she hates you, is more of she critics anything you do. From the way you gather the medical supplies to the way you check patients vitals. During her visit with König, you stay outside the room so you don't know what goes on in there.

You saw when she exited the room alongside Eli and Gabriel, taking König back to his room. You didn't need to look up to know that Dr. Smith was walking towards, her heels made it obvious. "He will no longer take his usual calming medication, he'll take this one." She gave you the doctors order.

"benzodiazepines?" He was fine with his usual one.

She looked at you with her eyebrows forward "Yes. Is there a problem."

"Wouldn't the short term use cause him more problems compared to how he is now. I mean, he's been doing good lately and his oth-'

"Are you a doctor (Y/n)?" She tilted her head as she gives you a serious stern look.

"No."

"Right, I call shots for what is good for my patients. So if I tell you to order his new medicine then you order his new medicine! Is there a problem!?" Her high pitch tone caused the other nurses to look at you.

You look around mentally slapping yourself in the face. Of course she knows more than you, you are just a nurse. "No, Dr. Smith. I'll order them asap."

"Good. Make sure that his primary physician knows about it too and next time you question me, go back to school to get a lab coat. You are a nurse, you do what I say."

She left leaving the echo of her heels scraping the white tile floors. You cursed under your breath while picking up the phone. Calling in orders for prescription is a pain in the ass. Well the hospital it is, you're not familiar with a psychiatric hospital. The last thing you need is to be at hold for three hours trying to get it through.

"We need medical attention at room #526!" You heard Eli. You quickly ran to König's room and saw Gabriel on the floor, holding his mouth as blood was coming out. You turned your head to take a look at König. He was standing there with blood on his nuckles. He's tall, you never got a good look on how tall he was. This man is a mountain an actual mountain.

"What happened?" Jacob entered in seeing the mess.

"I need gauze pads and bandages.' You said holding onto Gabriel. König saw as you attended him. You're his nurse not Gabriel's. You should be attending König not him. The other guards came in to help Gabriel getting up while the others trying to hold König down. Jacob came in with the medical tray. He flicked a needle, trying to get any air bubbles out. You got up as they took Gabriel out, "what are you doing?"

"Everytime he does this, we have to put him down" He made his way towards König while two other guards were trying to hold him down. Compared to the guards themselves they looked like little children against König.

You went in front of Jacob, "You don't have to do that. It will make him think more irrationally. Please he is my patient."

He lowered the needle down giving you a sigh, "Fine. I'll go make a report. But you still can't be here unless two guards are present."

"Okay." The two guards let König's arms go.

Eli and Jacob left to talk to the administrator. You picked up the gauze pads and bandage from the trey.

You haven't made eye contact with König. You've always been too nervous about that, but you had to see him to examine him. You saw him, you saw his face. He had stuble. His features are strong and sharp, his jawline looks like it can cut anybody. He had scars on his face one through his mouth and the other one through his eye. His eyes are blue a nice clear blue, which stood out against his dark under circles. He was probably the most handsome patient you have ever seen. No, not patient, the most handsome men you have ever seen.

You walk towards him, slowly. You looked up to him, your face aligned to his torso . His white t-shirt was snuged and hugged all his curves on his abdomen. You can see the outline of his perfect abs and chest area. His biceps make it look the arm holes of his shirt are going to pop open. His hair was a perfect shade of brown, almost golden. Like before, it wasn't long or short, it was a good length, enough to make a little lazy ponytail.

You stuck out your hand as he placed his on top of yours. Your hand looks barley visible compared to his. You took a peace of gauze and dabbed it on his bloody nuckle. He didn't have any wounds from the punch he gave grabriel. If anything, the blood you are wiping away is Gabriel's.

König stared at you. He saw how concentrated you are with him, how gentle you are with him and how carring you are to him. The fact that you stood up for him from getting sedated, it was a like a call for him that you are his officially.

I mean he did it for you. No one knows the other half the story, they always accuse of the one that looks guilty. When Eli and Gabriel went to take him back to his room, König heard the comments they made about you. All the comments made by Gabriel.

Sure, Gabriel is nice to you, but he looks like a jerk and he is one. He's nice to you, but behind your back he thinks you are an object. Talking about how he wants to take you, not for a date, but for a nice dinner so that he can fuck you later in his car and most likely never talk to you again afterwards...unless he's desperate for sex again

König couldn't let that slide. Talking about you like a sex toy. Talking about you like you don't have emotions. Yes, König has killed men and women that don't really deserve it, but you. Someone that stood up for him. That attends when he needs or wants something. He wanted Jell-O during lunch, but no one was giving him one. Then you came inside the dining room and saw that he didn't have Jell-O like the rest so you gave him one. It's like you read his mind. You don't deserve to be treated this way. It reminds him of himself when he was a kid.

Being bullied for just being nice, for being who he is. He wants to protect you that's all he wanted to do. So he punch Gabriel after hearing his plan to seduce and fuck you then leaving you alone for yourself without a care in the world. He was easy, just one punch and he was down on floor holding his bloody mouth.

You cleaned him up and sat him down on his bed. He wanted to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. To kiss you as a thank you.

He was never lucky with the women, who would be with someone who's a looser. He remembers the time in high-school when girls will ask him out only to laugh at his face when he thought they were serious. Before he left to go to the military he met a girl. The girl just wanted some free drinks so she talked into him for some free stuff. He lost his virginity to her and felt as if he found the one. But to her he was her wallet, a way to get free things and rides for her and her friends. He bought her flowers, teddy bears, chocolates. Took her out to romantic dates that he tried so hard to assemble. Only to walk in on her having sex with another men, in his bedroom on his bed in his place that he pays for. He hoped that she was just drunk or scared..maybe, but no.

"Seriously König, you thought that I cared about you? I mean you are not even good at sex. I was just using you for the free stuff. I just wanted free drinks jeez! It's not my fault you couldn't take a hint."

He saw how they both laughed at his face. How they both just sat there naked, laughing at him as if he was the punchline to a joke.

"Believe me I never wanted this to happen! Especially after getting that dam abortion. But it doesn't matter cause you paid for it."

She wanted money to buy a new dress. She used it to have an abortion. He felt tears running down his face. They didn't feel bad, no, they laughed harder at him at how pathetic he was.

"Why would I even be with a looser."

He remembered how those kids would push him down the slide. How they would rip away his comic books. How they broke everyone one of his toys.

"Looser!"

"Looser!Looser!"

his fist turned white, he felt his fingernails, cutting deep into his palm. The girl he thought was the one was taunting him along his boy toy. He walked up to them. They expected him to bawl like a baby and beg for an apology. Instead, he choked her. His hands gripped tight around her neck. He felt some punches coming from her boy toy, telling König to stop, to let her go.

He saw as the life of her eyes went away. He heard as her neck cracked and dropped her back on the bed. He turned the guy, choking him to death aswell.

He hid the bodies, ran away, joined the military and found a new way to live.

You heard other male voices coming from the elevator and the administrator coming in. "What happened!?"

"He attacked Gabriel." You said to him, you saw what was behind him, other doctors.

"Put him in a straitjacket." He pointed to König

"What no!" You said getting in between him and König.

"Excuse me!?"

"Putting him in a straitjacket isn't going to solve anything."

He crossed his arms while looking down at you "Doing nothing will solve nothing, (Y/n)!"

You turned to König who had a stoic expression "I know, but I'm sure there are oth-"

"What are you again, (Y/n)?" he blurted out.

You knew where this is going. Twice in one day, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "A nurse."

He gave you a small smirk, the same one Dr. Smith gave you. "Exactly. A nurse. I'm your superior, you don't get to tell me what to do. Your job is to take his vitals, and give him medication not to throw orders around! Do I make myself clear!" He stepped closer to you. You wanted to back away, but you felt frozen. He was directly infront of your face. "Now, move aside so we can our jobs!"

You looked down on the floor. You never felt so light headed as you did now. The other voices coming from them were echoes. You felt nausea and sweating. Your heart felt like it was pounding from your chest, but it sounded like a blur. "S-sorry.. sir." You always feel week when people yell at you.

"Next time you do something like that, you're out of here, (Y/n). " He said as you all watched König being put in a straitjacket.

The administrator, Ben, saw König. He was taken back a bit. The look he gave him. As if he was killing him right on the spot. König no longer had the stoic expression, he gave him a death stare.

Who does he think he is to yell at you for being nice to him. To threatened her. They are all the same. Everyone here is all same. The same kids that shoved him around the boys bathroom when he was 10. The same as those girls that laughed at him that laughed at his face.

But instead of him being the victim, is you. You're so weak and innocent, how can someone treat you like that.

But it's okay because you'll have König by his side. He'll make sure to save you.

To care for you.

To love you.

To make you his.

[petew21-blog]

A 5 star review

"Ok, Luke and one final question. A very well known and feared movie critic, Marcus Montoya, in his latest review for one of your films, has called you stiff and boring for a gay guy. What would you respond to him if he were here right now?"

"I would tell him to come see me at Lotus club tonight and we'll see which one of the two of us is the boring one. Haha"

"Ok, thank you for answering and have a great day"

Lotus club, Friday 10:14 PM

Luke:"Oh look who we have here. I really didn't think you would show. A straight gay in here. And you actually look bored."

Marcus:"Bored from watching you and your movies"

Luke:"Look, I don't know what you have against me, but it seems personal. If you wanna talk about it, spit it out. If not, then let me show you how gay people have fun. What do you think?"

There was a slight change in Marcus's expression that showed he wasn't really gonna talk, which Luke immediately noticed. Luke smiled and grabbed his arm and took him to the dance floor. They danced and drank for hours.

Luke:"So you're not into me. You're not gay and I haven't done anything bad to you. Why do you hate me then?"

Marcus:"It's my job to say mean stuff about people. It tends to bring out the best in them."

Luke:"That's a stupid theory. So, why coming here?"

Marcus:"I wanted to see if you can have fun"

Luke:"Oh I can show you even more fun"

Marcus stopped dancing and leaned Luke's ear.

Luke:"Oh don't worry honey. I won't tell a single soul. Let's go"

They arrived to Luke's appartement. Still drunk. One a bit hornier than the other.

They kissed all the way to the bedroom.

Luke:"Wanna top?"

Marcus:"I don't even know what that means."

Luke:"Jesus, you straight guys. I'll walk you through it."

Luke positioned himself on top of Marcus. Flexing for him

Luke:"You like these guns?"

Marcus stayed silent. He looked like he was concentrating hard enough to stay hard.

Luke felt dominant. He was fucking his tormentor. It didn't matter who had dick in whose ass. It mattered that his tormentor was now beneath him. His straight tormentor.

He could already feel his dick pulsating inside of him. He didn't wear a condom. Luke knew that this guy wasn't the type to transmit anything. Besides, he wanted all the cum inside of him. He wanted to feel all of it

Luke collapsed on the bed. Except Luke now felt a bit heavier and there was a very hunky man breathing heavily next to him

Marcus:"I really didn't think I'd convince you for having sex with me. Damn, for a gay sex this was a thrill. But I don't think I'll be doing that ever again. Or atleast for some time necessary."

Luke:"How did this happen? How did you do this?"

Marcus:"Relax. It resets back after we have sex again"

Luke:"So we're not stuck like this?"

Marcus:"Calm down, man. You'll get to have sex with yourself. Not everyone gets that chance. Now tell me where can I get some water?"

Luke still perplexed:"The... Kitchen. In the kitchen. There is filtered water."

Marcus got up with his new borrowed body. Luke was observing his new hairy and not very well maintained body.

Luke looked up as he heard footsteps coming back from the kitchen

Marcus:"I kinda lied about the sex part"

BANG. One bullet shot from the gun held by Luke's body

Marcus was now standing in his own appartement, clean from all the blood he had to scrape from his new body. Getting rid of his old body turned out to be much harder than he thought.

He went through all the steps in his head, just to figure out if he didn't forget anything.

"Honeyyy? Are you finished?" a voice echoed from the hall behind the door

"Yeah. Come in, love. No need to be ashamed. It's still me." Marcus answered with joy

His wife entered the bathroom.

Jessica:"Oh looking good, sir. I'm almost blushing from looking at you. I feel like cheating."

Marcus grabbed her by the waist and sat her down on his lap while sitting down on the toilet.

Marcus:"As if we haven't done this many times now. So, how do you like my new body?"

Jess:"Very handsome, very sexy. But... I'm not feeling so comfortable about all this gay stuff. Are you sure it wouldn't be easier to find someone... more normal?"

Marcus:"Oh honey, I'm queer now. You can't say that shit in front of me"

Both of them laughed out loud

Marcus:"I'll mention in another interview that God showed me the right way or some other bullshit. Can't let all the people know what really happened to Luke."

"Now, let's introduce this dick to your pussy. I have to beat that thought of fucking ass out of my head."

Another story request from inbox

Could you do a story where a straight movie critic swaps bodies with Luke Macfarlane?

Btw don't be like this fictional Luke and WEAR A CONDOM 😁

[homunculus-argument]

It's actually kind of funny how much brain space you can free just by adopting the principle of "if it's not hurting anybody, it's probably fine". If you don't know whether you should or should not do something, pause and try to figure out who's going to get hurt if you do that. If you struggle trying to come up with any imaginary hypothetical person who would be harmed by whatever you're doing, you're probably not going to benefit from listening to that doubting voice telling you that you're not allowed to do that.

Once I learned how to make friends and started finding people who actually liked me and supported me, my family started warning me about surrounding myself in toxic echo chambers that uncritically affirm and validate whatever I'm telling them, and believing whatever they say. Of course the people who have only heard my side of the story would believe whatever I'm telling them and side with me, they haven't heard their side of what happened. That it's unfair of me to poison people against them by telling people how they make me feel, when they aren't there to argue in their own defense. That family needs to be there to tell you the hard things about yourself and criticise the things you're doing, because strangers don't love you enough to tell you to stop doing ugly and cringe things, and correct you when you're being embarrassing.

That losing yourself into uncritical echo chambers of blind support and affirmation, without being held back by the leash of the critical eye of your family is bad because.... Yes, why? Who is being harmed if I do so? Am I being harmed by being surrounded by people who are utterly delusional in their opinion that I am fun and likeable? Who don't tell me when I am acting sickeningly wrong because they don't have the decency to smack me for doing that? Who never make me cry by telling me about every single thing that I am always doing wrong?

Who is harmed by my happiness? Why is it wrong to surround myself with people who are utterly delusional in their belief that I'm not a bad person? Why not entirely lose my grasp of reality as my family sees it, and believe them?

[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (1)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Summary: This will be a series! Part 1: (Y/n) and Harvey were 'together' during their time at Harvard, but Harvey couldn't commit to an actual relationship. They 'break-up', or whatever you do to end a situationship, and split on bad terms. Years later, after they become successful lawyers, their paths collide once again when (Y/n) takes a job at Pearson Hardman.

Warnings: commitment issues, angst, arguing - I think that's it but if you noticed something I missed, please let me know.

Word Count: 1784

A/N: I haven't written in a WHILE. Please, please, please constructive criticism. Also, there's, like, no Harvey fanfics. I think I read literally all of them soooooo... that's why there's this thing. Anyways, lemme know if you're interested in part 2 (I already started writing lol).

Harvey and I didn’t used to be so distant. Once upon a time, while we were both attending Harvard, I was the person he went to practice flash cards to study for the bar. While I sat against my bed frame asking him questions off the cards, he’d lay on his stomach with his feet in the air. Seeing as we were both quick witted, we’d often get distracted and end with a battle of lighthearted jabs.

               And likewise, he was there for me when I had been stood up on a date with some frat boy. He ordered in some Chinese food and pulled a big tub of ice-cream out of my freezer. We sat on my goodwill couch picking apart the guy and making up some dumb unfathomable story as to why he hadn’t texted.

               “I can’t wait to hear the headline in the morning: Duke, whatever the hell his last name was, found having been thrown from his car in a head on collision right into a semi-truck loaded with rubber ducks.” He did a news reporter voice that didn’t sound far off from how he normally talked. “Luckily, the ducks cushioned his fall, so he only suffered having lost his phone and missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime with the (Y/N) (L/N).” I repress my giggle but can’t stop the goofy smile on my face. “What a loss.”

               “I mean,” I spoon more ice-cream into my mouth, “Who would name their son Duke? You can tell they wanted a dog.” He nodded along to that and all the other ridiculous things we talked about that night.

               But some friendships don’t last forever. Especially, when you want more.

               We grew closer and had fleeting kisses often. Some borderline dates, but never anything serious. Never anything real. Not to him.

               “Harv.” I called his name from the couch after I heard the door to his apartment open and close. He walked through the door with a smile on his face. “How was your day?” I asked, but I already knew the answer just by looking at his face. He had a mock trial set that day and absolutely crushed it. He was assigned the husband’s attorney and was in charge of making sure that the wife got the minimum of what she was entitled to without having signed a prenup.

               After he boasted about his triumph, I applauded him. But he wasn’t finished running his big mouth. And his next, one little comment, threw our relationship through a loop. “One of the stupidest things a person can do is get married.” He smirked as he took of his jacket and started on his tie.

               I froze in my place on the couch. He continued getting comfortable and taking off his restricting clothes with his back facing me. My throat was tight, but I persevered, I had to make sure that I had heard him right. “You think marriage is stupid?”

               I eyed his back feeling distraught. Every fiber in my being hoped and pleaded that he was joking, but my gut knew better. Moreso, it knew Harvey better.

               “Marriage, in my eyes, is an irrational vulnerability. There’s no point other than, I don’t know, taxes?” He rambles on with his back still facing me. My heart clenches. “And even then, it’s not worth it. Divorce can ruin everything. A man, his family, hell, it can run an entire business into the ground.”

               My head was throbbing, and I couldn’t help the hot tears that brim my eyes. “Huh.” I acknowledge. My voice feels raw already from holding back letting out any noises. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

               My voice must have given me away because Harvey flicks his head over his shoulder to spare me a glance before double taking. His eyes widen and his body tenses. He turned his body to me and takes a step in my direction before stopping in his tracks. A tear falls down my cheek and I feel burning hot embarrassment in my chest.

               “Honey…” He gently grabs me by my biceps and looks into my eyes. “What’s wrong.” His voice is smooth as he caresses my cheek and pulls my face into his chest. I let out a choked cry and he rocks me back and forth for a few moments.

               I feel ridiculous. “Oh, it’s nothing.” I can tell I’m not being convincing when Harvey pulls my face from his chest and gives that knowing look before putting it right back where it belongs.

               I had no idea what to say. How do you tell your kind-of-but-not-really-boyfriend that you had already planned what the centerpieces at your wedding would look like? That this was it. This was everything you wanted. He was everything you wanted.

               “Even if it was me?” I blurted it out before I could really think about what I was saying. He looked confused for a second but then his face went stern.

               “Y/N.” All of a sudden, his delicate touch is a little heavier. “We’re not even-…” He cuts himself off and looks to the corner of the room. My mouth opened as I processed what he was too scared to say.    

               “You don’t want me.” My expression turned icy and I looked down. He let out a frustrated noise and pulled away from me. Though, I felt empty before he could even begin to move from my embrace.

               “That’s not it.” His brows were furrowed, and he wouldn’t look at me. That’s exactly it. I read his face and could feel he was holding something back. I was at a loss for words. I removed my body from the bed and let out an emotional scoff.

               I speedily walked into the bathroom, trying to make a plan. Any plan that won’t leave me anymore heartbroken than I already was.

Leave.

               It was my only option. I eyed the unused, small garbage bag next to the toilet and ripped it from its basket. “Y’know,” I suddenly felt his presence behind me. “I know you’re studying to be a lawyer and their whole schtick is lying and-” I started tossing my deodorant and face wash and every other thing I bought for his place into the bag. “-and withholding the truth.” I ranted in a demeaning voice. “But I didn’t think you would do that to me-”

               “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was raised and his hands were out to his side in an exasperated way. “I didn’t lie!” I didn’t stop tossing things in, in fact I’d finished my bathroom segment and moved on to his closet.

               “You’re right- you didn’t lie, you just kissed me, went on dates, and cuddled me! But, oh no, you’re right. We’re not anything.” I growled as I tossed my spare shirts and pants from his closet onto the bed before stuffing them in my already bulging, see-through bag.

               He didn’t yell, but he did have an icy tone when saying, “It’s not my fault if you convinced yourself there was something here when there wasn’t.” I stopped trying to make everything fit into the bag. The next few seconds were silent as I let his words sink in. My heart had to have gotten heavier because it felt like it was in my gut. Either that, or I was about to vomit.

               All I could think was ‘get out’. I couldn’t look at him, fuck, my heart hurts so bad. I tie off the bag and walked from his bedroom into the living room and finally, slam his front door. I couldn’t help but stop outside of it to try and listen for footsteps… but I heard none.

               So, I left. For the next few days, I spent my hours crying, sleeping, crying again and completely and utterly alone.

               I hardly saw Harvey again whilst I was at Harvard, thank God we were in different law classes. Of course, with an ego as big as his, it was impossible not to at least hear about him every once and a while. During graduation, I grimaced knowing that he was a few feet away with that million-dollar smile on his face. Never the matter, I put a smile on my face too and high-tailed it when the picture was over.

I moved back to the city I was born and raised, not too far from New York. I practiced as an associate for a while, but quickly climbed the ranks and made Junior Partner at the firm. I had mind blowing reviews and an amazing success rate that assured a job offer at whatever firm would have me. In fact, I worked so hard at my firm, that I reached the capacity of what they could pay me as a Junior Partner. I could either become Senior Partner or go somewhere else if I wanted to continue to grow my paycheck.

               And if I learned anything from Harvey Douchebag Specter, it’s that I should never settle. I set my eyes on the most successful firm in New York: Pearson Hardman. One over the phone interview and a quick glance at my numerous 5-star reviews, recommendations, and success rate-and I was welcomed to the Pearson Hardman family.

I rented an apartment not too far from the firm and began unpacking the few things I had. After paying off my student debt, I went on a spending spree, and I wound up with more than I could manage. After being knees deep in Dior, I had to offload some stuff. I packed everything I couldn’t part with and donated everything else to be distributed to a few women’s shelter. They couldn’t contain their excitement and now I’m a part of the state-wide organization. Funny enough how those things happen!

Either way, it was a fresh start, through and through. I had the bare necessities, and I was content. A shopping spree for some Ikea furniture was calling my name, though. The apartment was a literal husk up and would remain that way until I could find the time to go shopping.

Being in the city where I studied law and had some of the toughest years of my life made me emotional, but in the best way. Now I’m back, and at least 3 times as kick-ass as before.

Of course, since Harvard, I’d heard a comment or two about Harvey and what he’s been up to, but I tended to butt my head out, far away from his business. I’m sure he’s somewhere still in New York, I mean, he loved this city- but New York’s huge! There’s no way I’ll be seeing him anytime soon.

[all4yoi]

𝒯rust 𝒩o 𝒪ne (teaser)

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. mentions of blood and murder, swearing, violence and more to be added on the final work

wherein you wake up in a house in the middle of nowhere after 8 siblings take you in after running away from your murderer. you should've felt thankful, but why did one of them leave a note saying to not trust anyone? 'especially' their siblings.

teaser word count : 1.0k , release date : tba 😞🙏

taglist open!

Run. You've been running for what felt like hours already. The throbbing pain on your lower back was unbearable but you pushed forward, God you don't even know where you were going at this point. Despite the chilliness the night carried, you still felt the sweat forming on your forehead and dripping down your back. Your feet are throbbing, legs are shaking, and your eyesight is starting to get even more blurry.

Someone help me.

Next thing you knew, you were falling on the ground, head hitting a boulder before blacking out.

-

Soft humming and cabinets shutting were the ones to wake you from your slumber, despite that, you kept your eyes closed. The soft pillow and sheets you were laying on was alarming to you. You blacked out in the middle of nowhere, not in a cozy room.

Why am I here? Who brought me here? Who am I with?

Peeking with one eye, you were startled when you saw a female looking down at you with her doe eyes.

"Oh good! You're awake, thank heavens." she happily exclaimed before standing up straight. You took this as an opportunity to examine her from head to toe. She had long luscious black hair, dark eyes and pale skin. She was adorned in an old yellow farm dress, a straw hat with white ribbon was resting on her back and she held what looked like a laundry basket by her hips.

Attempting to sit up, you halted when a throbbing pain shot through your head and lower back. Right, you were almost murdered.

"Careful now!" the unnamed girl exclaimed, holding her hand up to stop you. "You're still severely injured, my brothers haven't got home yet.. I'd treat your wounds but.." she looked around and shrugged. "I'm a bit nervous since your wounds are really deep.. like it's been done to kill."

Because I was about to get killed. Was what you wanted to say, nevertheless, you nodded instead and fell back on the bed, wincing slightly at the impact on your back.

"Don't worry, the bleeding has stopped and I've bandaged you up. You should rest more, they'll be back before the sun sets." She smiles before closing the bedroom door and by the time you heard the click, you unwillingly fell into another deep slumber.

-

With furrowed brows, the boy examined the wounds before exhaling. He pondered deeply the possible scenarios and situations you could be into to end up with four stab wounds on your lower back.

He was restless, not because of your critical condition. No, definitely not that. He could care less about you, in fact, he wouldn't even treat you if it weren't for his sister's constant nagging on treating you. He was restless, because if his sister was the one to find you in the woods, it meant that your "murderer" could be close to their home.

They've been living in the woods for almost all their lives, they've never encountered anything like this. If they were to find something dead on the woods, it's either a deer, bunny, or birds. Not a girl who's on her early 20s. It was alarming for him.

Though he felt a bit of pity for you. How did you even end up in the woods? He could tell from your outfit that you were someone who definitely lives in the city.

A knock on the door brought him back from his thoughts. Turning around to look, he made contact with his older brother's eyes. "Are you done? Chloe just finished with dinner. Come eat."

He nodded, pulling your tshirt down as he stood up and left the room. Not sparing a single glance on your direction.

-

You were back in the woods. Running from him again. You could feel the tears forming on your tear ducts and a lump forming on your throat. The sound of his footsteps only made you go faster. The pain on your lower back was starting to become unbearable, and before you could trip and fall..

You woke up abruptly, chest heaving up and down violently as a tear fell down your right eye. Taking the time to look around the unfamiliar room, you spotted an untouched soup on the bedside table.

Throwing the blanket off your legs, you quietly got off the bed with a pained grunt. The bandage around your body was comforting and the pain was more bearable now. You could hear faint murmurs outside and dishes clattering.

Her brothers are probably home now. Your hand hovered over the old door knob hesitatingly, you could hear your heart beating faster. When you were about to turn the knob, a loud voice from outside stopped you.

"We don't even know a thing about her! As far as we're concerned, she's dangerous." A stern voice exclaimed followed by a loud thud.

"She's in danger! If you kick her out now there's a hundred percent chance she'll be dead before the sun fully sets," this time, the same soft voice of the girl you've met a while ago spoke, "and can you lower down your voice?"

You blinked as panic starts to overcome your system. Right, you were still in the middle of nowhere with people you didn't know. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked around the room, the bed was unkept, obviously, the soup on the bedside table still untouched, the single window is closed but you could feel the breeze from outside entering through.

Everything is made with wood, it's a cabin.

"Okay, calm down. No one's kicking anybody-"

"Heeseung-!"

"Chloe has a point Jay, you do too, but if we kick her out.. might as well kill her here in her sleep instead of letting her go and make her play cat and mice with an unknown person for who knows how long." you furrowed your brows with his choice of words, but he was correct in some way, you'd rather die in your sleep than get kicked out back in the woods and get stabbed to death.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, you took notice of a folded paper peeking from your pillow. Quietly, you approached the bed lightly to avoid the attention of the siblings outside, sitting down on the bed, you took the paper and opened it.

As quickly as you opened it, the paper was immediately crumbled in your palm as your breathing grew heavy overtime. Your eye caught the way the door knob turned, alerting you that someone was coming. You threw the paper under the bed before the door finally opened.

"You're awake!" You didn't have it in your system to smile back as the words in the paper was still repeating like a mantra in your head.

'Trust no one, Y/N. Especially not my siblings.' You don't remember telling anyone your name.

[pallisia]

Hey gg. I've always loved making up stories and drawing and thanks to you and the works you've recommended, I learned that being sincere in telling stories is one of the most crucial parts. I still get nervous when I show my stuff to others, though. Does that ever get any better? How have you dealt with harsh criticisms (whether you thought they were justified or not)? In any case, thank you so much for Soulsov and everything that came before it! You're a huge inspiration!

i don't think that gets any better. even for someone who has always enjoyed recognition like me, showing sincere work to others is a daunting thing. sincerity is what makes it worthwhile, but vulnerability is inherently scary. you kind of just have to do it.

as for criticism, i've heard everything from "your pacing sucks" to "your work is morally reprehensible." the latter flavor has brought me pretty low, but i've since had the realization that people will just log on and say whatever. you can't dismiss every single criticism as coming from an idiot, but the reality is that 19-year-olds who haven't had breakfast are just typing shit with no filter every day because it's easy. in four years, they're going to look back and think "what the hell was wrong with me" and hope you've forgotten it. that's my experience, anyway.

i go to peers who i trust for meaningful critique and try to keep an open mind otherwise. maybe that part gets a little easier with some perspective. anyway, thank you for your kind words and good luck with your stories.

[citrineghost]

I absolutely cannot get over - of all the things wrong with this season of OFMD - the abuse apologism.

Listen, hear me out, I understand that they're violent pirates. I understand they brutally murder and kill people and steal their shit and ruin lives. I get it.

The problem is, you cannot make a comedy about pirates and put a focus on the therapizing and emotional openness of the crew, making the fact that Stede showing up has them healing and talking and being emotionally more healthy as a major selling point of the show only to use that therapy-speak as a way of justifying abuse apologism.

They all hurt people, yes. The thing is, they're not supposed to hurt each other. They're supposed to be a family. The violence and abuse is supposed to be outside of the family network. They're supposed to be at home around each other, even if everyone there isn't great all the time and can sometimes be a bit toxic or unhealthy. Overall, in season 1, the message was, "We can get through this together." "Talk it through, as a crew."

Instead, season 2 dives directly into Ed committing atrocities against his own crew, giving most of them some combination of PTSD (which is clearly worse than any they've experienced before, because their personalities and ability to interact with people is completely altered), dissociation, hypervigilance, etc. Then, when they finally beat his ass and try to kill him because of the abuse, Stede fucking Bonnet shows up and is like, actually! I think you all should give him another chance!

The following episode(s) are so fucking hard to watch.

You've got people jumpy around him, terrified he's going to hurt them, all the while Stede encouraging them to just get over it and forgive him. He pushes for Ed to try to "turn poison into positivity." Basically encouraging the notion that if your abuser apologizes and then acts nice, everything should be fine and peachy.

The fact that this is bullshit is mentioned, I believe, only once, when someone noted that Edward didn't even use the words, "I'm sorry," during his apology.

This isn't just perpetuated by Stede, it's also perpetuated by Black Pete. He says to Lucius, "I feel like you're not even looking at me, you're looking through me." and then, when he sees that Lucius is drawing Ed's head on Pete's body (I guess meant to be some comedic take on traumatic fixation), he isn't sympathetic at all, he get's mad that he's not focused on him, and says something along the lines of, "You're so focused on the bad that happened to you but I haven't heard you mention once that you're alive."

This is such a heartwrenchingly common form of abuse minimization that it's nauseating to think about. This idea that, oh, you may be traumatized but actually you're not dead so who cares? Be grateful! Get over it!

And, unlike it being pointed out that Ed didn't say the words, "I'm sorry," this scene is never criticized by anyone in-show. Instead, Lucius appears very guilty and then draws a picture of Black Pete as an apology, telling him he's right.

He wasn't right. That's a fucked up thing to tell someone who was almost killed and then experienced extreme trauma following that. He made the entirety of Lucius' trauma an affront to him. Because Lucius was thinking about his trauma and not him.

Now the worst thing about all of this, to me, is that once this episode is past, it's treated as if everything is resolved. Oh haha funny, Ed walked around the ship with a cat bell on his neck for a few days so he couldn't sneak up on people! So cute and quirky!

It's fucking not! They should have thrown him onto a deserted beach and left him there. I'm not saying Ed should never be allowed to have anything good again in his life, I'm just saying it shouldn't be the crew he traumatized and abused. They don't deserve to have to live with him. They shouldn't be expected to forgive him.

Don't even talk to me about how they made a, and I quote, "Safe Space," and then Ed showed up to it. Like he had any fucking right to be there. When it was a Safe Space meant to be specifically an escape for the people he abused and traumatized. As if he, too, was a victim of him abusing them.

And on top of all of that, the fact that, as he's dying, Izzy is taking all the blame for Ed's actions as Blackbeard - another of Ed's abuse victims - and is treated as if that's the peak of his emotional development. It's not. That was where his development plummeted. He had seconds left to live and he used them to absolve his abuser of his guilt because he loves him and didn't want him to feel as bad when he died.

I was not a fan of Izzy in season 1. He was the biggest cunt on the ship, and he did encourage Ed to be a worse version of himself. But that doesn't mean his cuntiness justified him being mutilated and abused daily. We can only put so much of that on him. Ed had the power to say no. He had the power to be moderate, even. He had the power to be violent and terrible to people outside of their crew. He took Izzy's words and he ran with them - waaay further than he had any conscionable right to.

But this post isn't about season 2 Izzy. It's about abuse apologism, which I feel made up a significant portion of this season's content. And I'm just fucking furious about it.

I'm not saying shows can't have bad things in them. I'm not saying abuse apologism doesn't happen or that it doesn't have its place in media. I'm just saying, season 2 of this show wasn't a fucking comedy. The writers fucking tanked it. Everything that was good about season 1 was stripped of season 2 and everything was plunged into dark-humor tinted tragedy.

You can't base an entire show on the idea of comedically intelligent/modern therapizing language and then use that language to communicate that abusers deserve your pity and forgiveness - not to a queer audience that is probably 90% people who have been horribly abused.

[aqwnstars]

Give me siren scara or bratty mermaid scara hc pls. I'm begging you. I'm on the floor. I'm bashing my head on the wall.

HEY POOKIE<33 TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!

- A.N- I haven't been writing lately because my schools getting harder and I recently got an F in an exam so i have to study so the alpha scara isn't coming out soon so sorry my lovelies :(( I try to do my requests first, and then any other fanfic i started doing, but since fanfics take me a week or so to write, this one.... will be written in a headcanon format.. I'm not that experienced with writing a hc format so any criticism is appreciated, in a later time i might make a whole fanfic<33 (FUUCKKCKKKS I FORGOT TO WRITE HIM AS A BRAT ONEOMFMKOAKXKSK)

uhhmmmm i keep noticing i always write scara pining over reader which im not sure if its TOTTALLLYY in character, but writing him pinininy is cute so stfu🙏🙏🙏

Siren Scaramouche x partially deaf gn reader

Word count: 686 (short one..)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None!!

Pronouns: You/Yours, reader can be any gender (meant to be gender neutral!!)

Loving waves

Siren! Scaramouche who was known in the underwater world as the most majestic siren out of all.

His voice was such a lulling song so much so that anyone who gave him their listening ear couldn't help but be entranced.

And how shocked he was when he met a person he couldn't lure in.

He began to only think about them, at first planning on how to kill them because he wouldn't let someone he choose to lure in and kill survive, due to his ego, but that began to turn into a genuine interest a few weeks later.

Without thinking about it, Scaramouche had spent hours just staring at you, he wouldn't say it's admiring of course.

It has become a routine at this point, you'd go work outside, maybe take a walk and he'd just stare at you, gazing longingly at your features from afar.

The way you two met would be as if it was straight out of a fairy tale, he'd get caught up in a fishing web, and you'd be his knight in shining armor!!

Him, being a siren, is seen as a terrifying being, a coldblooded murderer, but to you he was such a majestic being, if you were more naive you'd think he was a God (in which case, he wouldn't complain!!)

Everyday since you had saved him, you started to visit him. You brought little trinkets from your home, and he brought you a few shells. (sometimes that is, if you're lucky!!) Might I add, the shells he gifted you were like no other. They range in colors and shapes, not even the most avid collecters saw the shells he had given you.

He enjoyed spending time with you, more than he thought he would. He has gotten used to being alone, so a daily presence in his life was something unusual.

He'd let you touch his tail, his face turning pink as you compliment him. Your fingers on his tail, lightly caressing his scales. He couldn't help but look away as you admired him. If anyone else had requested to touch his tail, he'd plan a new song just for them, ...let's ignore the fact he offered to let you touch his tail, that's an unimportant detail.

One of the things he loved, ahem... liked most about you is the gentleness your eyes hold. He has gotten so used to the trashing waves of hatred in the mankinds eyes, but to see one's with calming flowing water? He could and would get lost in that body of water, no hesitation, of course he wouldn't tell you that though!

He wanted to listeh to you all day, anyone who said his voice was enchanting has never heard yours. Although you sometimes slur your words, stutter and at times get too loud, he loves that about you.

At times he wished you were a siren too, how beautiful would you look under the waters light he wonders. How would your tail sway in the oceans, rivers and seas?

One time, you asked him whether or not he can sing without indangering someone, he had never thought about that. Well of course he's not gonna risk losing his only love to find out, but that's a story for another day.

A few things I can definitely see him doing is;

Giving you his scales! He could tell how you always admired his tail, your eyes glowing at how his tail would practically shine under the Suns light. One night, he'd pluck a scale out, later in the say give it to you, saying: "It had accidentally fallen out, here. Don't think for a second I pulled it out for you." All while looking away, trying to look as non-chalant as possible while.. panicking inside over your reaction.

This might seem cruel, but he'd sing to insects, without the intention of killing them, to see if he can sing to you without putting you in danger.

He'd look around the seas floor for hours to find a shell that you'd like!! (.. you like everything he gives you so that's... pointless..)

AND THAT'S ALL I HAVE ON SIREN SCARA!!! :DD I HOPE I SATISFIED YOUR REQUEST POOKIE!!! (hope i did the hc format right..............

[katesmemes]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!

"I don't think that blush is your shade."

"I'll probably just stay home."

"This is the first critical rager of the year."

"You know what your doctor said."

"You need socialization."

"Why don't you use my tanning bed?"

"You're in need, babe."

"I'm really sorry you got electrocuted."

"Are you hot for anyone?"

"[Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name], [Name]!"

"I don't know who that is."

"He doesn't play sports; he's cerebral."

"This party is gonna be clutch!"

"These things will turn your feet into hamburger helper."

"It's not haunted, just abandoned. Desecrated."

"Well, I heard [Name(s)] do witchcraft over there."

"I've never seen anybody there."

"I think it's really peaceful and quiet."

"I talk to him sometimes."

"I brought this for you."

"It's kinda morbid when I wear it so I wanted you to have it."

"That's really weird, [Name]."

"I just don't think anyone should be forgotten."

"Y'know, I wasn't gonna say anything, they were such a mess, but you look amazing now!"

"Oh my God, [Name], bag your face!"

"How do you know my name?"

"So what exactly happened to her?"

"I can never ever talk about it, for personal and legal reasons, and i also pinky swore, but I guess I can tell you. I trust you."

"I'd be screwed up if I were her, too."

"Hi, sorry, how do we know each other?"

"You're being so dramatic."

"This is not what I expected from you; you have so much potential."

"Lets find somewhere for you to sit for a bit, yeah?"

"I hate parties like this; I don't even know why I came."

"Your hair feels like easter grass."

"You know it's not nice to lead people on."

"I wish I was with you."

"It's okay; everyone does it."

"You should probably get going."

"Did you smash the mirror in the bathroom?"

"Do you know what happens to people who act out?"

"How about an apology?"

"I feel like I may want to apologize for what happened last night."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay."

"Oh, is there pizza left?"

"I think I'm gonna skip the movie."

"I'm just really tired from work."

"Do you know how hard that is on the groin muscles?"

"It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Do you like this song?"

"We're better off up here in case anyone comes home."

"I haven't said this many words in a row in forever."

"I hate to say it, but you're either crazy, or just goddamned inconsiderate!"

"You're kind of absurd, aren't you?"

"I really don't get your fixation with that one."

"There are plenty of halfway-dece guys who would date you."

"I wanna help you, I really do, but I dunno how."

"It's a waste of time to try and fix a boy; it's better to just accept a guy's flaws."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What happened to your neck?"

"You don't want to hold my hand?"

"This whole place gives me the creeps, okay?"

"I thought that was a really cool thing to say."

"Don't feel bad about what we did!"

"You saved me."

"Is that a rad new trend or something?"

"I don't play with dolls anymore."

"I'm sure there's some explanation."

"You know I'm usually pretty cool about things, right?"

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have no idea how scary this is."

"I actually feel like something's wrong."

"People are so afraid of death because they dunno when it's gonna happen to them."

"I'm not afraid of death anymore."

"I don't wanna die a virgin."

"I want to do it with someone I truly love."

"You're so supportive."

"I love our conversations."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude."

"How about I drive since you're not feeling so good?"

"Your boobs look great by the way."

"This is just too freaking much."

"It's your fault we're screwed."

"You act like you're happy for me, and you care about me, but you're not really happy for me."

"You couldn't let me have this one thing?"

"You knew I liked him and you went after him on purpose!"

"I swear, I would never do that to you!"

"Guys usually only want me for one thing."

"It just was never gonna work out between us."

"I don't have feelings for you like that."

"Do you know how uncool that is?!"

"Uh, you're not making any sense."

"Thank you for being nice to me when no one else was."

"You're the type of person who usually bullies me or looks right through me, but you didn't."

"You actually went out of your way to try to tell people I was part of your family."

"You really actually wanted me to be your sister..."

"You're a great person, [Name]."

"Listen, we're running out of time."

"Make love to me."

[ckret2]

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor  and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade  probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another. 

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor. 

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say. 

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

[utilitycaster]

Bonus:

Campaign 2 episode 92/Campaign 3 episode 92 parallels (with some assistance from 3x89)

Transcription of the text in the above images (screenshots from the Critical Role Transcript Search) below the cut:

The following is excerpts from Campaign 2, Episode 92, and Campaign 3 Episode 92 (except one from 89, noted below), interspersed. Travis is playing Fjord, Marisha is playing Beau, Laura is playing Imogen, Liam is playing Orym, and Matt plays Thoreau Lionett in the Campaign 2 excerpt and Liliana Temult in the Campaign 3 excerpt:

First image:

TRAVIS: Your histamine reactions are going again.

MARISHA: Yeah. I've been away from Zadash for a little bit, so the pollen, it's kicking a little, you know?

TRAVIS: I take it you don't fully, fully hate your dad. It's got to be hard to hear this.

Second image:

LAURA: I'm going to heard toward Orym who's at a distance and approach slowly.

LIAM: Hey.

LAURA: Hi. I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder.

LIAM: Sorry, I know how hard all that is for you.

Third image:

MARISHA: Everyone wants to make their dad proud, you know? Just hoping he could, he could show some of that.

TRAVIS: You don't know that he can't. It's been years. You've grown, you've changed. I'm sure you were even more of an unbearable shit before. I'm not saying he deserves a second chance, but he is your father, and you do have a mother, and a brother that you've never met.

MARISHA: (sniffs) I guess it's hard when... the word inevitable has been brought up several times in the past 24 hours amongst us. I feel like I've found my family with The Mighty Nein. I don't like looking at my past, because it doesn't have The Mighty Nein in it, and I think I put off the inevitable, because I'm going to-- I'm afraid it's going to be like my past.

Fourth image:

LAURA: Don't apologize. I can't begin to understand how hard it is for you.

LIAM: You know, every one of us makes our decisions with the lenses or prisms we see life through.

LAURA: Mm-hmm.

LIAM: I can't take mine down. (sobs softly) It's not even about revenge for me. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do.

LAURA: I didn't know them, but I can't imagine they wouldn't look at you and not be proud.

LIAM: (sighs sadly)

LAURA: I think you've gone farther than anyone could ever expect you to, and you're still going.

Fifth image:

TRAVIS: I don't think one contaminates the other. You've got good, solid footing here. I mean, shit, if we want to run, we run. If we want to kick his ass, we'll kick his ass.

MARISHA: Yeah. (sniffing) I kind of want to kick his ass, and I don't want to run.

TRAVIS: Could I ask you, in your wildest dreams, and feel free to say you don't want to tell me, what would you have happen when we go there?

MARISHA: I think I've worked so hard because I scripted this day, in my inevitable future that I would go back to him, successful woman, respectable member of society, Cobalt Soul, an Expositor, the thing he threw me away to, and I embraced. And then, I would get mad at myself, because I felt like I was doing exactly what he was doing to me my entire life, scripting me to be something else. And I'm still doing it. I haven't seen him in three years, and I'm still trying to be... something. And I think what's scary is that I like this, and what I've found, and I don't think it was until Nott started talking about having to go home and go away that it truly started terrifying me. Because for the first time, I'm happy. And what if that goes away?

Sixth image:

LIAM: (sighs softly) (sniffles) So far. I'm going to miss him.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I'm going to miss Letters.

(sniffles)

LAURA: They were-- They were alive.

LIAM: Out of any of us, he just wanted to help.

Seventh image:

TRAVIS: It could always go away. It could go away tonight. The Gentleman's debtors could come calling.

MARISHA: (chuckling) And I think I know that, and I think I say things to Nott like, "You don't have to put those stipulations on yourself" because I've convinced myself that destiny or the inevitability won't come knocking. If you ignore it, it won't exist, and that's not true.

TRAVIS: (sighs) It'll be interesting either way. Your face is leaking.

MARISHA: I hate it.

TRAVIS: I won't tell anyone.

MARISHA: Don't tell anybody.

TRAVIS: Yep. You're a good friend. You're a good trainer.

Eighth image:

LAURA: I want you to know that that for a while it may have felt that you and I were not seeing eye to eye or maybe you felt that I, I didn't have the same goal in mind that you did. But don't worry about that anymore, all right?

LIAM: I understand family.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I want for all the world for you to have your family.

LAURA: I wanted that, too, and (chuckles) god, that back and forth is a pretty funny thing, but choices were made. If nothing else, then at least we've got a little bit of knowledge on the inside now.

LIAM: Yeah. As much we'd like to, you can't turn back the clock.

LAURA: That's right. But you've got us.

Bonus image 1:

MARISHA: Mom already fucking mentioned that life gets difficult and it's hard. So you're right. Maybe it's easy to justify the easy way out, just get rid of the problem.

MATT: "That's not what this was about. You were on the self-destructive path. We didn't know what to do. I've never been a-- no one teaches you how to be a good father. I regret choices I've made, and you don't think I don't hold myself responsible for-- I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly."

MARISHA: You did. It was probably the best thing you could've done for me. So thank you. Tell me the story again, and then I'll go.

Bonus image 2 (from 3x89):

MATT: "History is filled with evil men. But few have the courage to stand up and try and stop them. Where I'm standing, I don't think we're on the opposing sides like you think we are. We just have a different myth, that's all. That's all. Please see it in yourself to understand why I've done and given up all of this."

LAURA: Maybe it's your turn to run. And I wake up.

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 2 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary : You obsess over the cuddle you shared with loki then you both share a joint together.

Warning: Smoking, recreational drug use, heat, so much of heat, bodyshaming comments, Loki being a soft baby, reader is insecure about her body, reader's mom is critical about her whole life, CUDDLING

Note : Song I used in this chapter. Now I know it was released in 2019 buttt I am going to use it anyways and you guys are going to ignore it the way we are ignoring TVA's existence. It also poetic in a way because time may or may not be linear in this fic 👀 Listen to the song first if you haven't, it's bomb, it's my go to whenever I'm drunk.

"Sooooo what does it mean if a guy cuddles you but you're not in a relationship or ummm dating or uhhh anything really" you asked your coworker Lyla. She was one of the trainers at the gym you were working at currently.

"Why are you asking? Are you cuddling with someone?" She asked you excitedly and you gave her a smile.

"Me? Cuddling? A guy? No no..noo no. Just a friend.. asking for a friend who's doing the cuddling..the cuddler is doing her i mean..you know what I want to say" She gave you a weird look as you said that.

"Yeah I figured..I mean aren't you allergic to men?" She rolled her eyes

"I'm…not allergic to men alright" you raised your voice so a few clients looked at you, the guy who had asked you out four times already did as well so you lowered your voice down a little "I love men..love themm like my own brothers and fathers and I hate the men hating we see these days" she gave you a questioning look as you said that. "Yeahh alright alright..just tell me what it means" you crossed your arms.

"What means what?" Attention span of a frog

"Man. cuddling... Friend?"

"Ohh yeah, tell your friend that this guy might be into her. I mean men usually don't initiate that sort of intimacy unless they're really into someone especially if it comes even before the sex does" she told you.

"Oh definitely no sex" you chuckled "That's what she told me"

You woke up this morning and you were squished against his body, completely squished all into him. Somehow you managed to get out of his hold without waking him up, though you did manage to fall down on your ass. What were you thinking rolling away from the bed that's the size of a toddler's cot?

He was a deep sleeper though and you just wanted to leave the apartment before he'd wake up but of course you bumped into him as you came out of the bathroom. He just smiled his usual angelic smile and wished you a good day at work as if you two didn't spend the night all squished together.

"How's the diet going? You seem even more chubbier today" you snapped out of your thoughts as you heard Lyla. She was an YouTube fitness model so she always stayed in shape and you ? Well you had tried to become one but nobody cared about the educational content you were making. You didn't have a response for her, you had been eating a lot of junk these days so this was clearly on you.

As you reached home after a long day he was watching something on the tv so you looked at the screen. He had a dark green tunic on that was probably made from some Asgardian fabric, a black trouser underneath, hair still wet from the shower.

"Captain released a statement that he had an altercation with me after I escaped, he claimed that I had morphed into him and was trying to steal the scepter"

"Whattt?" You looked at him confused

"Exactly what I'm saying. What is he talking about? I was here, I did not pretend to be him, as if I'd ever want to morph myself into him" you shook your head in disbelief as he said that. His accent always got thicker when he was excited or agitated.

"Why not? He's hot" He gave you the typical I don't think so look as you said that. You didn't understand a thing he was saying though.

"Something is happening..I clearly smelled the cologne of two Anthony Starks and now there are two Captains" you walked towards him as he huffed in annoyance, you placed your one hand on his shoulder to comfort him then you fluffed his hair up.

"Ummm how about you stop watching news? Let's start with that alright?" You grabbed the remote from him and turned the tv off, probably shouldn't have taught him to use it in the first place. He raised his brows in response, the crinkled lines on his forehead made you smile.

"I'm going to shower then you can do my lasagna" he smiled as you said that but you just heard yourself too "I mean we can eat each other" you took a deep breath after that mortifying slip up. Again. The cuddle sesh has infected your brain with some sort of virus "We can do…dinner..for fucks say" you mumbled as you stormed towards the bathroom.

Once you came out, you put on a tshirt and a pair of trousers. You could feel his eyes on you and it made you nervous.

"Do you wanna smoke weed or something?" You questioned him so he nodded immediately "Wow didn't have to convince you at all huhhh?"

"Is it a recreational mind altering herb? We have such herbs in Asgard, but it makes one rather foolish when consumed for a prolonged period of time, very detrimental for health" he said proudly.

"Ohhh your behavior makes so much more sense now you know" you chuckled as you looked for it in your closet and he rolled his eyes in response, he enjoyed this back and forth bantering with you.

You had two joints, where did the other one go? You made a mental note to look for it later because right now you just needed a moment of relaxation and distraction from that cuddling sesh you couldn't stop thinking about.

You came back to him and he looked at you curiously as you placed the end of the joint between your lips and lighted it up. The smell of the weed reached his sense, making him squint his eyes. Gah-dorable.

"Let's do it on the bed" you were saying all the wrong things today. You got off the couch and quickly hopped towards the bed. Oh he wanted to do it on the bed too, preferably the smaller one but he knew you didn't mean doing you exactly.

"So we can finally burn it down for good?" He retorted and you turned to look at him, feigning a hurt look on your face.

"It's my baby..how dare you?" he raised both of his hands up and took a step back "Because of the window..i don't want the smell to reach Mrs Geller" you said as you opened the window behind your bed "Okay the apartment in the front is still tenant-less..yayyy" you took a few hits and finally passed it to him. You didn't think he'd be able to smoke it because he just seemed so posh and regal and princely and you didn't think he had ever smoked anything in his life but turned out he was a pro.

You were already starting to feel the effect of it and you wondered if he did too? Passing the joint back and forth only made you hyperfocus on his lips. The lips that you wanted on--

"It is strong, though I never envisioned a lady like you to be into such a poisonous thing"

"It's just..grass " you said to him so he smiled, he was lying on the bed front side down, keeping himself all propped up on his elbows while you stayed seated with your back against the headboard "A grass that makes you feel floaty and drowsy.. besides I do it occasionally" That was probably a lie.

In order to avoid his intense gaze and that stupid smile on his face you decided to play music on your phone. Ofcourse you had to choose a song that screamed sexy.

Baby you can, ride it oh yeah..bring it over to my place

He put his hand forward so you passed the weed to him, he laid down on the bed as he took a puff. Did he actually want to burn the bed? You watched the smoke going up before it disappeared into the air.

And you be like

"Baby, who cares?"

But I know you care

Bring it over to my place

"Careful with the ashes" you said to him as you could see that it was about to fall right on his face. He suddenly clicked his fingers and you watched the particles of ashes beginning to drift in the air, as if that wasn't enough he made them light up again with his sorcery, it looked beautiful, reminded you of fireflies. You couldn't help but smile as you crawled on your knees to have a closer look, he sat up and watched that look on your face that he had come to adore so much.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"Beautiful" you giggled as you tried to touch one of them.

"Isn't it?" He said so you looked at him. Always with the intense gaze.

I can make it hurricane on it

Hunnid bands, make it rain on it

Tie it up, put a chain on it

Make you tattoo my name on it,

You looked at him and his intoxicated eyes made you want to hide, this wasn't real right? You were just too high and romanticizing things. Yup

You took the joint away from him and he sat up, you were still holding it between your fingers when he grabbed your wrist and twisted it towards him. Placing the joint around his lips he took a longer drag and when he let it out it hung in the air as if he had made the time halt somehow, he waved his fingers around and you saw the smoke turning into the foggy portrait of a woman. It was a portrait of you.

It made your eyes well up with emotions that you felt were indescribable.

Make you cry like a baby, yeah

Let's GoPro and make a video

Shut the fuck up brown.

"I'm speechless"

"At last..Thank the norns" you gasped as he said that, you picked up a pillow and hit him a bunch of times but he wasn't even defending himself. He was just giving you that killer smile with every attack.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"This was the best thing ever or what?" you huffed in excitement as you got off the bed.

"It is" he mumbled in his mouth as he watched the distance grow between you two. You were hungry now but he couldn't stop staring at you.

I don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

The lyrics spoke to him, he had never felt such a yearning before, what were you doing to him? Whenever he wanted a sexual release he found it with an equally willing partner, but it was never filled with such palpable tension, he knew he didn't crave just sex from you. He was enchanted by you and he didn't know why. You were just a mortal, he have had his moments where he used to look down upon your kind once.

He still wanted to look down but only when you'd be on your knees in front of him with his co—

"Come here" you yelled from the kitchen space so he pressed a stop button on the filth that were starting to corrupt his head.

"Turn up the music ..I need it in my life yeahhh" you sang along and danced on your spot as you reheated the lasagna you had made. He made his way into the kitchen and leaned himself against the refrigerator as he watched you be goofy. You did funny over the top steps to make him laugh and your eyes teared up again as he threw his head back while laughing. Why were you getting so freaking emotional over him for doing such a normal thing? He was just another run of the mill alien god.

Wait what?

You both sat down to eat finally but you couldn't stop giggling, your phone has been continuously ringing so you picked it up.

"Hey mommm…mummmyy" you mumbled, her voice sounded unclear and then you noticed how you were holding the phone upside down.

"Are you drunk?" She asked you.

"Nooooooooo..what?" You were zoning out alot so you just hummed to whatever she was saying. You did remember that she would visit the day after tomorrow and you did feel worried about it especially with a certain god slash alien in your apartment but you figured you'd think about it tomorrow. As she hung up you relaxed again.

"Remind me to diet again from tomorrow, goddd she's sooo going to comment on it" you mumbled so he looked up from the book he was reading. It definitely wasn't from this planet.

"About what?"

"Me being fat"

"You're not fat"

"And you're the king of England" he tilted his head at the comment "Oh I thought we were playing that game where we had to tell each other lies"

He sighed as you said that.

"I would never lie to you" he said sincerely. He didn't appreciate how you felt so critical about your physicality. He understood it because he wasn't any better but he still abhorred that you felt this way about yourself.

"I'm not kidding, okay? The other day we were making this video at the gym where the male trainers were supposed to lift the female employees and this guy couldn't lift me because I have gotten so heavier than before" you blabbed as you put down the plate of lasagna after eating.

"Did you perhaps ponder over the fact that this male worker of yours is too frail to carry a woman?" He asked you

"Yeah righttt" you chuckled so he put his book down and got up, in a matter of seconds you were in his arms, didn't even have a chance to react.

"See?"

"Ohh shush..I'm sure you're strong enough to carry a rhinoceros"

"So this rhinoceros must be a small and dainty little creature from your planet i assume. Much Like a Cat?" You chuckled as he said that. As he put you down finally, you both brushed your teeths, separately. And then he conjured that princely bed for you. None of you were going to mention the cuddling right? Okay.

"I'm going to sleep on my bed tonight, okay? You take this" you laid down on your bed before he could protest or get an opportunity to manipulate you with his sad scrunchy brows.

The lights turned off but you couldn't fall asleep, how could you when you were thinking about him constantly? You had your back turned against him and that's why you didn't see it when he stepped down from his bed.

"It's strenuous for me to fall asleep on that bed, my body is habituated to this one" you heard his voice so you turned slightly to look at him staring at you, he looked giant from this angle.

"I'm not moving" you huffed and turned on your side again.

Your eyes widened as you felt the mattress dipping because of his weight.

"It is definitely acceptable for me" you gasped as you heard his voice behind you, you could feel his body next to you.

"What are you doing?" you turned to look at him so he placed his large hand on your cheek and shushed you up by placing his thumb on your lips. How dare he?

"Shhhhhh..now sleep" you were going to say something but his thumb went past your lips so your pulled your head back in order to slip the digit out of your mouth. He only chuckled in response.

"You're being inappropriate"

"Am I?" He responded as he scooted even closer and just like yesterday his arm went around your waist but before that he made sure to hook your leg over his own, he pulled you closer to his body and your breath quickened again. You can't handle such close proximity, it made you want to do bad things to him and with him. The bubbling scorching heat. Noooooooo

"Sleep well" he whispered as he placed his head over your breasts again, would he be able to feel your nipples getting erect? You'd die with embarrassment if he could. The vibrations you felt from his words went straight to your nether region.

"Can I lower the temperature?" He questioned you.

"What?"

"The temperature. May I please lower it down a notch?" Oh now he wanted to be polite?

"Yeahhh?"

The heat usually bothered him but he didn't do it for the heat this time, he just wanted you to submerge into him. He wanted you to be so close to him because he really did enjoy sleeping in your arms last night. It felt safe.

As it got colder you sneaked your arm under his head just like you did yesterday and he couldn't have been happier.

"This is better" his voice came out all whispery and it made you bite on your lips, you were so close to moaning his name or something at the least "Are you uncomfortable darling?" You gulped as he questioned. You have never been more comfortable in life but you weren't going to tell him that.

"Noooo"

"I know"

The audacity

He raised his thigh up a little and now his hard muscle was snuggled perfectly between your crotch. One flex and you'd probably burst into an orgasm. God you felt nasty, maybe his thoughts were pure unlike yours and he just wanted to cuddle.

Your other arm rested on your own body in an awkward manner so he brought his hand up and interlinked his fingers with yours. In what world was this an appropriate relationship between two friends slash roommates slash alien- human buddies? Maybe in Asgard it was.

Or maybe just maybe he was as touch starved for affection and these physical touches as you were.

Once your hormones relaxed, you were able to fall asleep, it wasn't that hard actually when you were holding onto this giant soft comfy teddy bear in your arms.

However you woke up to your door buzzing incessantly.

"Y/n? Y/n??" And you heard your mom's voice. Oh god.

"Get up get up get up" you tapped your hand on his chest and he smiled as he looked at your puffy little face before you yelled at him again.

"My mom is here..get upp" you said to him as you jumped off the bed and started to grab his clothes and other things he had scattered all over the place.

"You said she'd come tomorrow..as in tomorrow?"

"I know I don't know.. go hide in the bathroom or something please" you whispered to him. You didn't want her to think you had started to talk to yourself now.

"I can just make myself invisible"

"Whattttt?" Your voice got higher but you didn't have time to dwell into it at the moment.

He clicked his fingers and then he disappeared in the shimmery waves, took you a second to process it.

"I'm still here, you just can't see me" you took a deep breath as you heard his voice.

"Oh okay okay..stay quiet" you looked at him or at the spot he was before he disappeared.

"I'm next to you" you jumped on your spot as he spoke again.

You quickly made your way to the door and you were met with your mom's angry looking face.

"Hiiii..hey what are you doing here..you're..24 hours early" you hugged her and she looked at you confused.

"No honey. I told you yesterday that I'd come tomorrow"

"No you said you'd be here the day after tomorrow"

"No I said yesterday that I called you yesterday and you didn't pick up. I wanted to tell you that day that I'd be here the day after tomorrow" you looked at her confused as her words fried whatever working brain cells you somehow still had in your skull.

"Why it's so cold in here? Are you trying to freeze yourself" she shivered and rubbed her arms with her palms.

"Sorry..ummm how did you..who buzzed you in?"

"Ohhh i met your neighbor downstairs, Mrs Geller, what a nice lady, we had a cup of coffee" she said to you so you nodded. She looked around the house in disapproval. Well you were going to clean it today. You wondered where Loki was at the moment.

"Sooo how come you are here" she took a whiff, ignoring your question altogether.

"Is a man living here?" You burst out laughing as she said that..

"You're funny..so funny ..funny funny mom" she glared at you as you cackled like a witch "Why would you say that?"

She walked towards the sofa and grabbed the book Loki had left last night and it made you grit your teeth so harshly you feared they'd break.

"Since when do you read?"

"I uhhh mom –" she looked at you with and her eyes got teary with plenty of emotions.

"Ohhhh I'm so happy for you…finally you managed to keep a man? Oh Mrs Geller was right you're seeing someone" she hugged you tightly. Mrs. Geller needed to shut up one of these days.

"Mom–"

"Ohh by the way everyone is in Minesotta and I didn't bring them here because I knew your house would…look like thissss" she made a face as she looked around before she turned to you again "So we'll be here in the evening, just prepare a simple dinner okay?" She told you excitedly.

"By everyone you mean your boyfriend and his daughters that I love so much?" You gave her a tight lipped smile and she glared at you. The sarcasm definitely didn't sit right with her. It never did.

"He's my husband now.. it's been months, don't be disrespectful..okay I have to go..I'll see you in evening" you nodded as she said that. "Oh and bring that guy over, I'd like to meet him"

"Mom I just met him like two days ago" you lied to her so she thought about it.

"Doesn't matter..Just invite him for dinner"

As she left you put your head down on the door and sighed deeply.

You looked at Loki as he reappeared, he had a sympathetic look on his face. Fake boyfriend trope? Were you about to go through another rom com cliche?

Serves you right.

Now you couldn't wait for the dinner so the only decent friend you had in life could witness your humiliation by the hands of your step father, his perfect daughters and your own mother.

🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know.. also I'm not able to tag some of you, please check your settings)

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72

@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1

@whylokiissocute @hyperlokilover

@vickie5446 @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @tallseaweed @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @flashhxn-lights @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy

[decolonize-the-everything]

Thinking about Project2025 and how it's at every level and branch of government. How entire cities are now under their thumb.

How Biden is saying "Israel has a right to defend itself" while calling Cop City protesters terrorists for not wanting a more deadly police force to be trained. But didn't stand with rail workers when they demanded better treatment when it was freezing and trains were being derailed.

How an epidemic on par with HIV ravaged the globe and Biden allowed pharma companies to exploit the world with price tags after promising it'd be public access.

Thinking about how in all this Israel and the USA are said to test tactics and weapons on Palestine.

How the USA stands with Zionists and how many people have told me, a native American, that Palestinians are in the wrong.

How the last 75 years don't matter. Only the last 2 weeks.

And real fucking talk?

For all the "progress" liberals pretend we made how are we here?

Americans and several of the Allied countries would not hesitate to conduct Manifest Destiny 2.0 and have blatantly stated as much.

Americans are saying things that my great grandmother heard about reservations and then later about native liberation. They're saying things the pilgrims told us before that. We're animals. Savages. That we are to blame. That when we die out it'll be because we didn't fight hard enough. That we don't deserve to even be here.

And you know what, I would hope this post would reach some of them but I genuinely feel as if liberals are as far gone as MAGAs are.

They will read this and just go and on and on about how bad the other guy is.

How justified they are to keep voting blue. Just like MAGA's whine until their privileged lives being "ruined" by "woke lies" justified them voting for Trump. Just like Israel is justified. Like every fucking war criminal ever has been.

BUT

I implore you to STOP trying to fucking justify everything! Nobody fucking cares about the reasons you use to support a genocidal war monger who's legacy before this was signing one of the most racially marginalizing bills in US history.

How about you try justifying taking a fucking risk, instead?

People in Palestine are being bombed every fucking day and you want to twiddle your thumbs about NOT voting for the guy who said it was okay and for what? Because your life might not be as comfortable as it is right now? That's your concern from your home with a roof?

Call me a fucking conspiracist but I haven't been wrong yet: Biden is a fucking Project2025 plant. And him and Hillary both have done nothing but make the democrats more and more conservative by catering to the "centrist" votes for decades.

Now we're here. They've compromised so much and want to look so "fair" that a genocide is being paid for on American tax dollars and what are liberals tellings us, what are they saying? ITS JUSTIFIED???? AND TO VOTE FOR BIDEN AGAIN

Y'all are so worried about everyone voting blue to avoid republican fascists that you don't even CARE how bad the people youre voting in are. You haven't even noticed the fascists you put in office yourselves.

You forgot your boundaries.

And isn't it funny how rad/fems and TERFs got mainstream around the same time? You know, the white supremacists based ideology that seeped into the mainstream because nobody was critically consuming or gatekeeping what was "empowering to women" for fear of being 'cancelled'?

Why? Cuz if you hate them you hate women. Just like if you criticize america then you're an anti-american Russian/spy/plant. Like if you support Palestine then you hate Jewish people. If support BLM then you obviously hate white people.

And that's it, isn't it. That's what it all boils down to.

White supremacists are and have been manipulating & gaslighting us en masse.

You know your friends that learned to gaslight an audience with therapy speak? The one that makes you afraid to call them out cuz they're better with words than you and could just as easily turn everyone against you if they use enough buzzwords?

That's the tactics white supremacists are using.

"I must be quiet so I don't say something wrong and look like a bigot" "if I speak, I may say the wrong things" "I may say the right thing the wrong way"

They have made you AFRAID to speak against genocide!!! Wake the fuck up!!!!

They aren't event trying to hide it! The IDF made a post that straight up says "you are an anti-Semite if you speak against Israel"

WHICH IS JUST STRAIGHT UP UNTRUE!! So may Jewish people have come forward against Israel and against Zionism and to support Palestine!

Israel's government is Zionist and that is not an inherently Jewish trait! Making you you believe otherwise is part of the propaganda and manipulation so you Stop speaking up. You can support Jewish people and Palestinians both.

Israel and the USA want you to believe that it is one or the other and that's not true.

The only people who benefit from trying to make you choose between which humans get to live are the white supremacists who cheer when this rhetoric starts to normalize conversation about which people are more worthy of living than another.

You have been gaslit into supporting genocide.

Gaslit into going down a white supremacist pipeline.

Gaslit into giving your silent consent.

Snap out of it.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 6

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 4K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

This one's a little longer than the last few, but it's one I was really excited to get to for a while. I hope you guys like it! We're starting to get into the nitty gritty! Once again please let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for your support :)

__________

After your emotional conversation with Pedro, you were worried he'd stop talking to you. At least, it seems that's how it usually works. Whenever you try to have a conversation about emotions with someone, it gets shut down. But surprisingly.. it didn't push Pedro away at all. The two of you talk nearly every day on the phone, and when you don't, it's made up for with plenty of text messages. You don't even have to be the first to communicate, either. It just feels natural. It doesn't need to be over-thought.

You keep telling yourself not to get your hopes up, but at the same time, you feel like maybe it's turning into something. Something more than friends. You couldn't help but wonder if Pedro felt the same way, or if maybe he's just a really nice guy.

Despite these feelings, you're still hesitant to tell him you love him. Although he put many of your fears to rest, you continued to be nervous. You were inexperienced. You were significantly younger than him. You led two very different lives. And even though he reassured you about your appearances, it doesn't mean you'd be his type once he actually saw you. Shoot, you don't even know if he's interested in pursuing a relationship.

Plus, now there's the risk of messing up a new friendship. Why ruin it?

How does anyone ever get into a relationship? Others make it look so easy, jumping from relationship to relationship like their heart isn't at stake.

Maybe someday you'd tell him. Maybe someday you'd share these other fears as well. But not yet. You weren't ready.

_____

About a week had gone by since you first talked on the phone, and it was around 1 PM when he called you.

"Hey Pedro!"

"Hey there, songbird," he replied cheerily.

"Songbird?" You giggled.

"If you hate it-"

"No, I love it. It's sweet," you blushed.

"Okay good. But the reason I'm calling is because I saw something on Instagram…"

"Oh yeah? What of?"

"About you. When were you going to tell me?"

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh what? What is he referring to?

You nervously laughed "I… what? Tell you what now?"

"Your album is coming out in a WEEK!??!" He practically yelled with excitement.

Seriously… this guy. Giving me a damn heart attack.

"OH" you replied sheepishly. "You scared me, thinking you heard… I dunno"

"Oh! I'm sorry. No. I haven't heard any information that you haven't told me yourself, nor would I believe it anyway. Other than.. this album!!!" Pedro announced like a gameshow host.

You laughed before replying "yes, yes, the album comes out next week! They just announced it I guess."

Pedro clapped and shouted. "CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I'm so happy and proud of you!!!!!!!!"

You weren't looking in a mirror, and he couldn't see you either, but you could bet money that your cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "Thank you, Pedro!" You giggled, your face beginning to hurt from the large smile he caused.

"How are you celebrating? Is the studio doing anything for you?"

"Well they mentioned an album release party, but being that nobody really knows me I don't know who I would even invite. Plus I'm not sure that a large thing like that is how I'd like to show myself to the world. A little too ceremonious for my liking." You grimaced.

"Well, I happen to think you deserve something ceremonious, even if you don't think you do. And I think we should celebrate."

"We - you - you do? You mean…?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"You and me," he said matter-of-factly.

"You.. and… What did you have in mind?" 

Frankly you didn't know what to think.

"Well. I was thinking… Maybe we could listen to the album together? We could talk on the phone and listen, and it would be like our own little album release party. You wouldn't have to show yourself or meet people. It would just be like our normal conversations. Except I'd get to hear your new music and talk about it with you. If you want," he said, sounding slightly nervous.

Your heart swelled at the gesture and you agreed happily. The two of you made a plan to "meet" at 7PM and listen together the night of your album release. And he promised he wouldn't listen without you.

_____

It wasn't until after you were off the phone with him that you began to overthink the songs on your album. Not unlike your first single, these were also rather vulnerable at times. Sure, he knew a lot, and he'd listen to the album anyway. Probably. But still. To hear it… together? You were starting to feel like you were in over your head.

Nevertheless, the week continued on like normal. Work, talking to Pedro, hanging with Skipper. You agreed to a few more interviews in article or voice format after the release, and signed a few last minute things.

As the album date approached closer, Pedro texted you one day.

"Okay I'm going to ask you something and I want you to trust me okay. I'm not going to do anything that I know you would hate."

"Okay…" what does this man have up his sleeve?

"Can I have your address?"

Why does he want my address???? The panic settled in. But, you did like him; and he hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. In fact, he's been one of the most understanding of your qualms.

So. You sent him your address.

"Thank you ❤️" Pedro replied.

A heart !?! A red one!? 

"You're welcome. Also… I was planning to tell you anyway, but if you're looking for my address I may as well tell you…" you told him your real name. Not your stage name. Not a nickname. But your name. First, Last. All of it.

"Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll keep it safe," reassured Pedro.

"Thank you, P."

"Of course. You have a beautiful name, by the way."

Your heart did a somersault.

_____

The album release date was finally here and you aren't sure you slept a wink. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You loved him and always enjoyed chatting together. This was exciting. But also these songs are so personal. This is a big moment. This was a big plan. And why did he want your address anyway?

~~~~~

Meanwhile at Pedro's place, he was just as nervous. He had started out excited, but then he got into his head. His plans for the evening started feeling too romantic. He didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He liked you, but he didn't want to push it. Maybe he was showing too many feelings towards you. You love someone else, and him not respecting that is rude. All you want is a friend and he's just going to seem like another one of those creepy guys trying to get into your pants.

But it was too late now, the plans were in motion, and maybe you'd enjoy it. Who knows. Either way, he loved your friendship, and friends could do this kind of thing for each other… right??

~~~~~

Throughout the day, you paced your house before finally leaving with Skipper in tow. "We gotta get some air, buddy. I'm losing it over here," you said while clipping his leash.

Stepping out of the house, you two went for a long walk, circled back toward home, and plopped down on your lawn. The house still felt too small in preparation for this evening, whatever it was. Why does it feel different anyway? It's just another phone call..? Unless….

Truth be told, while Pedro had his secret plans, you also had some of your own. Whether you followed through with them or not was up to your nerves.

After some sunbathing with your pup, you both head inside. The sun was starting to set, and you realized it was getting closer to the meetup time you chose with Pedro.

_____

6 PM.

You stared at the TV, not really absorbing anything on the screen, but needing a distraction. This afternoon you opted for a show that Pedro was not in. For once, you needed to not see his handsome face. You needed something else. Half paying attention while picking at a hangnail, you jump out of your skin at the sight of your phone lighting up. Pedro texted.

"Picking out my outfit for tonight! Always important to look nice for celebration."

Shit… he's not coming over is he?! That's why he wanted my address?!

"Wait…" you pondered how to phrase your question without sounding like a panicked asshole, when all you wanted to say was "what the fuck do you MEAN!?!"

I'm not dressed. I'm in sweats and covered in dog hair. I don't have makeup on. Oh no.

"Wait… is that why you wanted my address?"

"Oh. Nooo, no no. No, sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not coming over unexpectedly and interrupting your hiding place. I just think it's still important to dress nice."

"Oh..Okay.."

It was around 6:15 when he texted a picture of himself wearing a white button up with a dark blue suit and matching tie. He wore dark-frame glasses and his hair was slightly tamed, but still showed his messy curls. He looked gorgeous.

But as you scanned his body you noticed that instead of dress shoes, he wore a pair of polka dot socks. He had a goofy grin and his one eyebrow was cocked. You grinned.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go," he said.

"You're a goof, P. But I appreciate the effort."

A pause.

"Also, you look really handsome" you nervously hit send before you had a chance to chicken out.

Bold. Probably shouldn't have said that. But hey, friends compliment each other.

"Why thank you. A big accomplishment like this requires all the stops."

He timed this message right to the minute. As you read his text, your doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find two boxes. One large, one small. A delivery boy was getting into his car. 

"Delivery from your biggest fan. 

-❤️, P"

He… he sent me some kind of care package?? And put a heart? And said he's my biggest fan?

You squealed and carried the boxes into the house. "What's this!?" You texted Pedro.

"Open them and see!"

You immediately open them. Inside the larger box was a variety of items. The first thing you noticed was a small vase holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To the right of that was a bag, which you opened and found your favorite meal, from your favorite restaurant. 

Wow, this is elaborate. 

Below the food was another small bag holding your favorite dessert, and finally to the left, your favorite drink.

I can't believe he remembered all of my favorite things.. This is so thoughtful.

When you moved the flower vase, you noticed one more small item. Is that a… corsage?? You texted Pedro the question.

"Yep!" He sent, with a photo of a matching flower on his lapel.

Remembering you still had the small box, you opened the box flaps, wondering what could possibly be left for him to give you. On top of it was another note.

"For a handsome boy.

- ❤️, your mom's friend, Pedro"

Under the note was a jar of peanut butter, a squeaky anchor toy, and…? What's this?

You unwrap a small paper wrapping to find a dog-sized black bowtie. Shut up.

"SKIPPER!!! Look what Pedro gave you, buddy!"

He padded over to you and let you hook the dressy accessory around his neck. With the clip adjusted, he sat back, looking proud of his new fashion. You quickly snapped a picture and texted it to Pedro.

"I can't believe you did all this, Pedro. Not only did you send all this, but you remembered my favorite things? You remembered all the details from when I first met Skipper. My favorite food, dessert, drink, and flower? That's so sweet, this is all too much Pedro..  Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I.. I don't even know what to say."

You're amazing and I love you. Is what I want to say.

"You're welcome." He texted back. "Like I said, you deserve a celebration. Plus…"

Pedro sent a photo of his table, set up with the same food and drink, with the caption "now it's like we're having a dinner party."

It was nearing the time to meet, but you still had to do one more thing. You had pondered it earlier in the day, but fully decided it when Pedro sent the photo of himself dressed up. It's now or never.

_____

6:45 PM.

Pedro sat waiting for a reply after he sent his dinner photo. It had only been a couple minutes, but his hands were sweaty and his leg was shaking under the table. Finally, his phone went off. You sent… a video?

He opened it and pressed play. There, he saw you rotating your wrist with the corsage on it. The first time he's ever seen your wrist, hand, or arm before. The first time he's even seen your skin tone.

Geez you act like you're in the Victorian ages, pull yourself together, he rolled his eyes at himself for being so overjoyed.

Next, the video panned to Skipper in his bowtie, looking handsome as ever. The camera zoomed in on him and he looked up into the view with his big brown eyes. 

And then…

The camera panned to the side, and showed a mirror. A full length mirror, where you stood. He scanned your body from your perfectly done up hair and makeup, down your body to your dress. You wore your favorite dress, (in your favorite color, he noted) which showed off your body in the best ways. He looked down to the floor and noticed that you too were wearing fun socks instead of shoes. You wore a pair of striped socks and wrote in your caption "all dressed up and nowhere to go."

His heart picked up and he could feel himself breathing unevenly. He finally saw you. And you were gorgeous. He couldn't help the smile that enveloped his face.

Fuck. She's beautiful… I'm screwed. 

She loves someone else. She loves someone else. She loves someone else. Forget your feelings.

Despite his struggle, he knew he wanted, and needed, to tell you how beautiful he thought you looked. This was a big step to show yourself, and he also knew how self-conscious you felt about your body.

"Wow, you're so beautiful."

You blushed, replying with a quick thank you with a heart, then sending a second message asking if he was ready to listen. The video wasn't the only trick you had planned up your sleeve tonight.

______

The clock turned to 7 PM and Pedro hit the dial for your number. You answered the phone and said a quick "hang on" to set up the shared listening party link for your album. Once sent, you took a deep breath and steadied your nerves. Then, you took the plunge.

"Okay I got the link! I'm so exci - what - wait, is this an accident?" Pedro's hand fumbled as he received your incoming video chat request, his heart picking up to a galloping pace.

"Nope! You can answer it. If you want.."

He quickly swiped the accept button and there you were. Clad in your favorite dress, sitting at a table with the meal he sent in front of you. He could see himself in the corner square, dressed in his suit, with nearly the identical table setup and food.

He couldn't help but notice on his own video screen that his cheeks were turning rosy and his mouth curled into a large smile. But he was too happy to be shy about his blush.

"So this is you," he said.

"This is me," you replied shyly, but still with a huge smile and blush plastered on your face, matching Pedro's.

"You look.." he sighed shakily "..wow.."

"You look pretty wow yourself there," you said with a shy giggle.

Both of you let out gentle laughs, feeling a warm glow as your stomachs felt matching butterflies of nerves, excitement, and… maybe something else.

"So should we listen, I guess?" You asked nervously.

He didn't answer. He was looking at the screen, eyes scanning the video. 

Is he blushing? You wondered. But why would he be? He doesn't like me back… right?

He still hadn't answered you when you finally said "Pedro?? Did you hear me?"

He snapped out of it, somehow turning more crimson. "Oh! Sorry… yeah! Let's listen."

Your nerves were off the charts. Some of these songs were so vulnerable. The ones at the end of the album were the most telling of all.

But as the two of you ate your dinners while listening to your new album, you began to relax. The night was filled with him giving praise and you giving background information on the meanings and production of the songs. 

"Are all the different instruments and harmonies played by you?"

"They are! The studio offered studio musicians but I had originally played them all when I wrote it and wanted to keep it a one woman show."

"You're incredible," Pedro said, shaking his head.

You blushed, for the billionth time today.

When it came to "Imaginary Love" Pedro grinned. "Hey I know this one! The one that started it all." 

"Yep!" You agreed and he began lip syncing to the lyrics dramatically. Little did he know, those lyrics were actually about him. You giggled as he acted out a soulful rendition of the chorus.

"You know, this whole journey has been a real rollercoaster and there have been times I've wished I hadn't posted that song..."

Pedro looked at you with that puppy dog look of his and you continued "but then I remember… that if I never posted it, I would've never started talking to you, and it makes it all worth it."

Pedro placed his hand on his heart and pouted his lip. "I agree. I'm glad to have met you. If I didn't love this song already, that alone would be enough reason for me to consider it one of my favorites.

You grinned and looked down at the table, suddenly feeling shy. The two of you continued to listen, having long finished your dinner. Conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on a date. Not that you had much experience with that, but from what you'd seen in movies and shows, this felt very date-like. And you didn't want it to end.

But as the album went on, you approached the last two songs. The ones you were scared of most. The most vulnerable of the album. 

The second to last began to play.

'It's hard to imagine craving something that I've never had.

Dumb to be so desperate for something I've gone without.

But when I'm alone and thinking to myself, I need it so bad.

I crave it like a drug, but one I know nothing about.

Your kiss on my lips, or any kiss at all.

It hasn't happened yet, no matter how hard I fall.

The years keep passing, but still no love.

The years go by, but still no kisses.

I keep wondering and praying up above,

I guess I'm unkissable, despite my wishes.'

Pedro furrowed his brow, looking at you, searching for something. He read the title of the song, "Unkissable," and looked up again, opening and closing his mouth to find the right words.

"Do-" he stopped himself and pondered his wording again. "Is- are all these songs true?"

You stared at the table, picking your nail against the wood. "Yes."

"You really believe that?"

"... I mean… I don't know… maybe… I guess…" you avoided his gaze, but could feel it.

"And you've never-"

"Kissed anyone before? No. I haven't."

"But you've wanted to?"

"Yes," you whispered, starting to feel tears prick at your eyes.

Pedro shifted his lips to the side in thought before finally saying "well… you're still young. It'll happen."

"I'm 26, Pedro. Most people have kissed by the time they've graduated high school. I just… missed the boat I guess. It's okay. I'm just being silly. I don't want it that bad. We can maybe listen to something else now."

"Hey, hey. Don't shut down on me," he asked pleadingly. "26 is still very young, and don't worry about whenever everyone else has done things. Everyone does things at their own pace. I'm sorry you haven't experienced it yet, especially when you want it so badly, but I know that when it does happen, it'll probably be better than any kiss you would've had with some 15 year old boy you would've had in high school."

You laughed, breaking your tears for a minute. "Thanks Pedro."

"Of course. And hey, don't think of yourself as unkissable. Any guy should be so lucky to be with you. Maybe the guy you wrote about in your song will be your first."

"Maybe… I hope so. Thank you."

While your heart bloomed at the kind words and prospect of maybe kissing Pedro in the future, Pedro's heart began to ache. Not only was he sad for you when you wanted love so desperately, but he also couldn't help but feel sad hearing you want to kiss another man. He wants to be that guy for you. He wasn't joking when he said any man would be lucky. But especially knowing now your true age, 22 years younger than him, he knew for sure your crush couldn't be him. You were way too young to be interested in a 48 year old man. He was silly for even entertaining the idea.

But at least he had a new friend. And as he thought longer, he thought about his best friend Sarah, and her relationship. They have a huge age gap, 32 years, but they're happy. And he's happy for her. It doesn't feel weird with them. Could he have that with you? Or is he in over his head?

The last song on the album began to play. This one was less vulnerable, but if he decided to look at the lyrics and notice patterns, he'd see it in the chorus. 

'People have a lot to say

Everyone loves or hates me

Don't know what I did today

Right now you're all I can see

Only want to be with you.

Please, love me too.'

You're sure the obsessive listeners will figure out the acrostic, and if Pedro looks up the lyrics, he might too. But either way, it's out there. All you can do is hope for the best and eventually you're sure it'll come out anyway.

 This wasn't one you were sure about putting on the album, but when the studio read through your personal songbook, they went insane over it. They figured it out quickly, and they promised they'd keep it to themselves. Luckily they have so far, but if money came calling, you think they'd sell your heart faster than you could say no.

The song, and album, came to a close and Pedro looked up at the screen once again, staring into your eyes. "Once again your music has blown me away."

Whether he put together the end or not, he wasn't letting on.

"Thank you Pedro. I really appreciate it. And thank you for tonight. It was truly special and I mean it when I say it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You didn't have to go through all that trouble," you said thoughtfully.

"It was no trouble. You deserve congratulations for your album," Pedro replied with a smile.

Right.. it's just a congratulations. Nothing else. You sighed.

"Thank you. I'm really glad we did this. Talk again soon?" You asked.

"Absolutely. It was wonderful to meet you finally," Pedro said, finishing the sentence with your real name and smiling.

"It was great to meet you too, Pedro."

__________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading.

Looking for more? Next chapter!

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