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enhafilthandfiction · 3 months

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ok hear me out (yall have a bet) imagine mutual masturbation with jake, but the one that cums first has to give the other a head.. regardless of the winner j@ke ends up eating you out

Dumb Games - Jake Sim

A/N : Hello everybodyy I. am. back. (after being dead for like 345 months). Anyways, just wanted to say that I missed you all sm! <3 I hope you are all doing well and ready to enjoy reading this fic! Anon tysm this is such a good idea oml esp with bff!Jake 🤭

Pairing : Bff!Roomie!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Kinda pervy and desperate Jake, mutual masturbation, oral (f.rec), dirty talk (bc cmon it's Jake), panty smelling (sry), some fingering and I think that's it :))

Word Count : 1,268 Words

Masterlist

It was a normal day for you, laying in bed, reading, scrolling through Pinterest, studying, until-

"Y/n? What is thisss?" your roommate's tone which echoed through the corridor told you he was up to some mischief. You lift your head up curiously as he stumbles into your room, your expression quickly changing when you notice what he's holding. "Jake!" you yelp, rolling out of bed to chase after him.

"I didn't know you owned a pink dildo" he lets out amazed, looking back at your tired figure which was still running after him. He giggles and escapes to the living room, settling on the couch as you follow.

"Oh and it vibrates too!" he exclaims in awe.

"Yeah, now give it back" you breathe, trying to catch your breath.

"Nah, come get it" he lifts his arms up and you scurry to get your personal object back, climbing on his sitting figure as you reach for it, but his arms were too damn long.

"Jake, please, just give it back" you sigh, giving up. You don't even realise you're pretty much straddling him in the position you're at until you feel his other hand on your arm.

"How about we make a deal?" he asks, a playful smirk on his face. "last person to make themselves cum wins"

You deadpan at him "Are you kidding?" you ask in a simple tone.

"Nope, and the loser has to finish the other off" he adds, looking at you hopefully. "Plus I'll give you this back so you can use it in the meantime" he shakes the pink object in his hands, flicking his brows up and down.

You've always kinda liked Jake, he was funny and unserious and just your type. But he was also the person you pretty much grew up with. You were scared to lose such a friendship so you never actually made a move. This was your chance.

You roll your eyes in faux annoyance "Fine. You're gonna be the one cumming too quick anyways. We'll see how good you can give head." you shrug, giving him a pretty smile "Now give me my damn dildo back"

He laughs and places the plastic dick in your waiting hand, before looking up at you, smoothing his hands down your sides. You looked so pretty like this on him, he couldn't wait to see you pleasuring yourself.

You get off him too soon, finding your place at the other end of the big couch, spreading your legs as you snake a hands between them. "Fuck" he curses under his breath, his already-hardened cock twitching in his uncomfortable pants.

He also leans back on the opposite end of the couch, quickly untying the stings of his sweats and sliding them down impatiently along with his briefs. His cock springs out, the angry red tip already leaking precum.

You bite your lips at the sight of him, wondering how he'd feel inside you. One thing's for sure; that pink plastic dick wasn't half as good.

You get comfortable, rubbing your clit through you shorts. "Show me that pussy" he instructs, slowly stroking his shaft. You blush red, smiling at his impatience. Nevertheless, you lift your hips up and slide the shorts down along with your panties which you knew were soaked.

Jake didn't hesitate to grab the black material, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. You roll your eyes and sigh at his pervy behaviour. "Jakeee" you whine "That's dirty"

He doesn't seem to care, groaning at your smell and at the sight of you. "Fuck you're glistening" he points out, licking his lips as he speeds up his pace a little. #

You spread your juice around, circling your hole, closing your eyes at the tingling sensation. His lips almost start to draw blood at the way he's biting them, his hand going up and down his cock quicker.

He can't help the way his eyes are fixated on you, watching your expressions and your fingers touching yourself. He knows he's gonna lose the second you put a finger inside yourself, squeezing his base to calm himself down.

You open your eyes to stare at his, as if in a challenging manner, the sounds of your gushing juices fills the room, his curious eyes looking at where you finger yourself.

"Close Jakey?" you ask in a breathy voice which goes straight to his dick.

He breathes in "N-no" he lets out, his shaky voice betraying him. He can't help himself though. You want him to lose, adding another finger to your tight hole and moaning out loud.

He's done for when you purposely moan out his name, sending him into a frenzy, his eyes roll to the back of his head and before he knows it, his hands are drenched in cum.

You sigh at him "I didn't even get to use my dildo" you faux pout when he slowly opens his eyes, recovering from his orgasm.

"You won't need it" he mutters, getting off the couch and making his way to you. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you're sitting comfortably on the couch. He doesn't waste a second to sink down on his knees, spreading your legs as he takes you in.

"So fucking hot" he whispers under his breath. He's been waiting to taste you for so long. Smelling your panties just made him more impatient. You nod at him when he looks up at you from between your legs and he dives in.

He flattens his tongue and licks up your folds in one go, immediately humming at your taste. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your hole before slightly prodding it in just to tease you. His licks his way up you clit, kitten-licking the little nub sending tingles up your spine.

"Fuck Jake" you breathe out, subconsciously grasping his hair between your fingers. You push his head deeper into you, encouraging him to suck at your clit. He hums at the little tugs on his hair, the pleasurable sting going to his dick.

He licks back to you hole, his nose bumping against your clit, making you whine out. You can't help but close your thighs around his head, engulfing him into you. He brings his hands up to your thighs, keeping them open before he brings one hand to your hole.

You feel like you're going to explode with his finger prodding at your hole and his tongue on your clit, the stimulation becoming too much. "Fuck, fuck r-right there" you moan out, pulling at his hair to ground yourself.

The way he hums against your folds doesn't help, your hips twitching at the feeling. He starts finger fucking you at a quicker pace, his mouth still working on your clit. All it takes is one last suck on your sensitive clit before your squeezing around his finger and tipping your head back in pleasure.

He eagerly licks up your essence before you push his head away due to overstimulation. You catch your breath as he sits up and settles on the couch next to you.

"Hate to admit it but that was one of your best ideas, Sim" you chuckle out, still in a haze.

"I never come up with bad ideas dumbass" he replies, also chilling back into the couch, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

"We should play this dumb game again sometime" you suggest, trying to place a hint.

"Damn you liked it that much didn't you?" he asked giggling

"It's always nice seeing you lose your own game"

Hi again, thankyou for reading to the end :D I hope you enjoyed it !! Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

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too-deviant · 3 months

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The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.

Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one

Word Count: 4k

Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

You weren’t very popular at camp.

Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.

Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?

Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.

Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.

It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.

Which, again, was fine.

Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.

But then Luke got better.

You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.

You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”

It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.

Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.

So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway.

You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day.

The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet.

When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile.

The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped.

“What?”

He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”

Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”

“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”

“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed.

You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”

But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused.

He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.

Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?

You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it.

Should you say something?

You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright.

But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you.

He wasn’t your person anymore.

Luke was unsure.

Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit.

That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit.

He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame.

It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine.

Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone.

Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor.

But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again.

He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session.

And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face.

The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice.

Not that he was looking for you, or anything.

“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there.

All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina.

“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”

Cool, that was the plan.

“But it’s sword fighting today.”

Luke raised a brow, “So?”

“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”

He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Because —“

“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”

Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”

And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again.

The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —

No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be.

The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow.

“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”

Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements.

He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break.

“Yo— woah, man!”

Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground.

It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week?

Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview.

So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics.

You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it.

Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that.

It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.

Oh, great. You were thinking about him again.

And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away.

Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”

Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”

You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, fifty percent sure.

“Do what?”

“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”

You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”

He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent.

“I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”

He nodded, “No more big steps.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent.

His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”

You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.”

He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”

You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.”

But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”

Five percent.

A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.

So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.

You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?

You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.

The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.

You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.

You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.

“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”

Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”

“Just you wait.” You smirked.

Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.

“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”

“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“

“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”

“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”

You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”

His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.

You squinted, “What are you doing?”

It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”

His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”

He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”

“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”

“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”

You snorted, “You’re a loser.”

You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”

“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.

“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.

🏷️ @aceofswordsandarrows @cowsandcomics @number-onekidqueen @kestisvrse @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @how2besalty @iinlovewithfictionalppl @lilacspider @l0ve-dov3 @coffi-cake @ironmanbaldes @onecojg @hiraethavis @freaking0utficrecs @delphifarms @wildlyfreemoon @candylandy8173 @sinnercry @featherofthecrow @babellucci @telliette @totallynotnic

#i hate this #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan is a loser and i love him #percy jackson #luke castellan x you #pjo

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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

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Yandere Head Canons:

Predator and Prey

Yandere Various Beastmen/ women x Human Afab Reader

You live in a world ruled by beast men where you are the lowest on the food chain. Sadly for you, you’re often treated like a play thing by your coworkers…

Tw: Breeding, lesbian sex, smut, mounting, predator/ prey dynamics, Yandere behavior, etc

Leveret- Holland Lop

Leveret was your sweet childhood friend and loyal companion! He was incredibly shy to the point you’d always have to stand up for him. He has always looked up to you ever since you were kids… you were his hero!

Leveret is your standard pretty boy. Hyper feminine and lean, he often wears pastels. His fawn colored hair is usually a bit long and very fluffy, just like his floppy ears! Leveret is very cute but equally pathetic. He never stands up for you, but you’re never upset with him since he is a rabbit. What could prey do to a predator other than run away? It made his heart soar that you were never upset with him… Leveret wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you hated him!

Leveret went to work in the office with you so the two of you are together forever (just like you promised as kids). He doesn’t want to lose sight of his shining star!

Leveret love when you scratch his ears. He automatically thumps his foot which makes him embarrassed so you often reassure him. Leveret loves how sweet you are to him.

Leveret secretly idolizes you and has an entire shrine dedicated to you. He’s a pathetic man. He’s too scared to confess his overwhelming feelings so he settles for collecting keepsakes from you. Nothing you’d ever miss of course, but they meant the world to him!

Chapsticks, silverware, panties, it didn’t matter! It was all kept in a box under his bed for him to romance through when he felt especially pathetic.

Leveret often huffed and humped your soiled panties like the pathetic loser he was! He’d be over the moon if you saw him like this… if you told him how pathetic he was. It was his deepest fantasy! To be dominated by you! To have his small, pathetic cock inside of you. He’s a bunny so he could go for hours! Whatever you want…

Leveret often stalks you when you’re not around him and it turns him on to see you taken advantage by the other beast men, especially Amara.

He often wishes he was a predator so he could be more dominant and confident but he’s okay being a prey instead. You’re never suspicious of him this way… so it’s much easier for you to let your guard down around him

Amara- Spotted Hyena

Amara has a dirty blonde and black spotted wolf cut and scars from one side of her cheek to the other. Her whole body is covered in scars from her constantly picking fights.

Amara is a bully. She’s the meanest coworker to you just because of your species (human).

She often slams her shoulder into yours, knocks your papers out of your hands, or spills food/ drinks on your clothes. Luckily her bullying is only physically since the entire office dislikes her. Arielle is especially not fond of Amara.

You often see the African lion and spotted hyena get into spats

Her loud cackles always fills the office which raised the concerns of your coworkers. Arielle is often the one to come to your rescue. Which only makes Amara more agitated

Yet despite her cruelty to you, you’re not mean to her since you understand why she is the way she is. She had a hard home life since she was the youngest in her pack so you knew she was trying to seek power elsewhere

It’s when Amara hears you defend her to Arielle that the bullying begins to stop. “I know it’s just Amara’s nature and if it makes her feel like the leader then she’s fine picking on me. I’m just a human anyways, it’s not like I could ever defend myself.” You understood her instincts? Amara didn’t think a human would understand her more than other beast men would… it started her interest in you.

Amara will stop being physically mean to you since you’ve shown submission to her. Now she will share her lunch with you in an, albeit, forceful way. She will scare off your bunny beast man friend so she can sit with you in the break room instead. The hyena insistent that you needed more protein or you’d be too weak.

Amara is insistent on walking you home. Her hyenas ears flip back and forth on her head to listen to any danger. Her scarred and muscular form was enough to intimidate anyone away from you. Not to mention her 5’11” frame. She was definitely a predator not to be messed with.

Amara will become suffocatingly clingy to the point your boss has to separate the two of you in fear of your safety (and a lawsuit). But that doesn’t stop her from finding you during break time (and to rip you away from Leveret)

Be prepared for the spotted hyena to corner you in the bathroom, her hands grabbing you in every place she can reach as her nose is buried in the crook of your shoulder. How could she not votive how good you smell?!

It isn’t long before she has you bend over the sink, her pseudo penis pressed against your backside as she humps you. She may not be a male, but her organ is perfectly functional for mounting. Won’t you indulge her? Amara hasn’t mounted anyone yet and you said you understood her nature. So won’t you indulge her? It’s not like you could defend yourself, you said so yourself…

Amara may be a woman but she was sure she could please you just as much as a man! The two of you could be mates!

Amara is quite rough and her psuedo penis is quite big. She’s a true dom and has a biting kink. It’s best to avoid being alone with her… unless you enjoy being mounted

Arielle- African Lion

Arielle is a respectable figure in the office. Her ginger hair is usually kept in a pixie cut. She’s a handsome woman with a scar across the right side of her lip. She’s usually the best dressed in the office. She often has to shave her face and arms since she’s a trans woman. Arielle hates her mane that constantly tries to grow back and the excessive body hair (but she’d be over the moon if you tell her you like her hairy arms, she’ll keep them then),

Arielle was the first in the office to take you under her wing and to protect you from the others. She isn’t very fond of the way the others treat you. You’re a rare human! You should be respected…

Arielle often carries extra set of clothes on her so you have something to change into when Amara decides to make you wear a meal or beverage. As much as Arielle hates Amara, it satiates a part of her that adores you in her clothes. Something about it is sexy to her. Especially from how much smaller you are than her.

If you seek her out for help or guidance, you’re instantly in her good graces. You feel safe around her? She’ll keep you safe. You like her clothes? She’ll bring you more. You like her hairy arms? She won’t shave them anymore. You think she’s a beautiful woman? She’ll show you how beautiful she finds you.

Arielle is the most passionate amongst the beast men. She loves to trail kisses across your neck and chest. Her clawed hands are always gentle so she doesn’t hurt you. She’s so happy you don’t mind her genitalia. It makes her cry and purr to be accepted.

Arielle is a little sucker for praise of any kind. She’s quite a lax lover but don’t let that fool you. Arielle is quite protective of you and is willing to shed blood for you if she has to.

Arielle doesn’t mind sharing you with Eden but she’s not fond of the other workers. She especially dislikes Amara and Leveret.

She scents you more than the other beast men. You often find lion hair all over your clothes after a night with her…

Conan- Eastern Wolf

Conan hates humans so he avoids you like the plague. If you try to talk to the gray haired man, he will leave the premises.

Conan is a very attractive man with long gray hair and icy blue eyes. He’s usually quite stoic and quiet so no one ever knows what he’s feeling if they look at his face… his tail tells a different story.

Conan will eventually open up to you when he sees how hard you try to understand the beast men’s behaviors. You’re not a bad human like the others he met and it was rude of him to make such an assumption.

Conan will apologize to you but he still keeps you at arms length, until he notices a certain rabbit being odd. Hell, everyone was odd to you. And Conan didn’t like it.

Conan will offer you solace if the others start to be too much. He’s a bit higher up in the office so you can hide in his office to get away from the stage five clingers but it won’t be long until they find you.

Conan is great at giving advice and he is a great listener. He just never expected to grow fond of you as well… you were too nice for your own good.

Conan refers to you as little red riding hood. “Little red, don’t you think you should avoid someone like me?” And you’d always smile at him. “I think you’re nice though, Conan. You have such kind eyes… I’m happy you became my friend.”

Curse you. Curse you and your kindness. Your gentle scratched behind his ears and your soft words that made his tail wag. Conan began to crave you more and more until all he wanted to do was to breed you like a proper mate should.

Conan will try to stay away from you when he’s in heat by locking himself up in his office. If you choose to ignore the “do not disturb” note on his door because the others are scaring you, he cannot guarantee he won’t pounce on you.

Conan would apologize the entire time as he stuffs you with his knot. But this was your fault. You should know not to get too close to a predator. Didn’t your family ever warn you about the big bad wolf, little red?

Eden- Grizzly Bear

This giant woman was in love with you at first sight. You’re so small compared to her and that meant you needed to be protected!

Eden is the tallest amongst the other people in the office. She’s built like a powerlifter with strong arms and a strong back but has a tummy on her. Her hair is in a chocolate brown mullet and she’s covered in tattoos. She is also openly lesbian.

Outside of work, Eden wears flannels and resides in a cabin in the woods. She enjoys hikes and wood cutting. You jokingly call her a lumberjack.

She loves to talk. Eden is the office chatter box with a gregarious personality. She’s quite boisterous but she’s not a bad person. Eden is thrilled that you don’t mind her incessant chatter, you’re one of the few people…

This giant woman often greets you with a toothy grin and shoves Amara away from you. She’s one of the few people in the office that likes humans.

Eden will share all her snacks with you from the get go and she will be so happy if you share yours! Sharing is caring after all!

Eden loves honey straws that are supposed to be used for tea. She sucks on them like suckers any chance she gets. You often stress concern for her and her love of sweets but not to worry! She’s a grizzly bear! She will be perfectly okay!

She may seem like an idiot but she’s far from it. She notices the way Amara changes her beat around you in a second. And she doesn’t like it. If you build a strong bond with Eden, Eden will go to the bathroom with you and she will pull Amara off you. A bear is not to be messed with, especially not a grizzly.

Now you have this tank of a woman following you around work. Eden offering you snacks and protection in exchange for you talking with her. She’s a lax Yandere save for her over protectiveness.

Eden will take you on hikes and foraging in the woods. She will even teach you which berries and mushrooms are edible! Whatever you want, she will be happy to oblige.

Eden is perfectly okay with just being friends too. She doesn’t mind! Eden just likes being around you. But if you want more with her or if you want a third, she’s open.

Eden is a very giving lover. You will be her cute little princess pillow almost every time. She’d rather do all the work so the two of you can cuddle and watch movies but won’t reject you if you want to go down on her. She gets especially riled up if you offer to suck her strap. How naughty

Eden wouldn’t mind sharing with her best friend, Arielle. She finds it kind of hot to have you crying and moaning under her and the lioness. She’s kind of jealous that Arielle would be able to get you pregnant while she can’t, but she’s still happy to stuff your cute pussy with her strap or her fingers. You’re so fucking cute. Won’t you stay with her forever?

The two (or three) of you could live a pretty efficient life in the woods. So why don’t you just stay here where she can properly protect you?

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satoruxx · 7 months

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sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

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les4elliewilliams · 3 months

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Ellie is away... // e.w

chapter 3 - 2004, Sophomore year college

a/n: part 3 (ik finally) took me forever for no reason at all, i didn't even think anyone was gonna see part one but anyways!!! (reblogs and comments are always appreciated:))) wc/cw: 1.4k. jesse being bullied;( , swearing, loser!ellie i guess?, no smut or anything but MDNI. summary: set in the early 2000s. everyone was obsessed with AIM messaging and when you left your hometown for college, leaving your friends behind, it was what you guys used to stay in touch. Ellie's one of your best friends, and when you left for college, she started dating Cat, the girl she had always claimed to dislike. It wasn't just the fact that she hadn't told you about it; you didn't like Cat. It wasn't a secret, and neither did Dina or Jesse. Deep down, you knew that she was just afraid of your reaction. Their relationship was far from perfect, and when you told her that she should've just broken up with her, it didn't go too well. However, her grudge obviously didn't last long, you were her best friend, after all, and she couldn't go without talking to you for too long, so she ended up apologizing for being a dick.

➥ part one, two, four

brickmaster signed in.

brickmaster: ohhh hey yn

ynshere: Ellssss hiiii

brickmaster: what's upp brickmaster: how's everything for you

ynshere: nothing much i was playing the sims lol ynshere: everything's fine. what about you?

brickmaster: it’s alright, just chilling in my dorm at the moment brickmaster: got any plans for the weekend?

ynshere: just hanging out with my friend Emma

brickmaster: sounds fun brickmaster: who’s Emma? ynshere: just a friend brickmaster: i don’t think you ever mentioned her before brickmaster: how did you two meet?

ynshere: just at some party, she spilled her drink all over my clothes lol

brickmaster: oh no your poor skirt and crop top

ynshere: oh stfu ynshere: what's with the way i dress now? ynshere: not pretty enough for you, Williams?

brickmaster: never said that ;) brickmaster: so? what is she like? brickmaster: is she cooler than me?

ynshere: aw c'mon you already know the answer to that

brickmaster: oh i know i know brickmaster: no one's as cool as me

ynshere: no, actually she is cooler than you

brickmaster: pffffttt as if brickmaster: i'm still hotter though

ynshere: is that what your gf tells you to make you feel less shitty about your looks?

brickmaster: ouch that hurt brickmaster: no more Cat by the way

ynshere: oh? ynshere: i'm sorry, i didn't know

brickmaster: well no dip, i just told you

ynshere: shut up, you know what i meant smartass ynshere: what happened? (If you don't mind me asking)

brickmaster: she was too much brickmaster: she was too controlling brickmaster: always telling me what to do, who to hang out with or who not to talk to

ynshere: mhm

brickmaster: don't. say. it.

ynshere: i told youu ynshere: yn’s always right ynshere: say it.

brickmaster: i'm so not gonna say it

ynshere: you make me wanna strangle you sometimes ynshere: but good, you deserved better anyways ynshere: i mean, i'm sorry but she was horrible to you

brickmaster: i know brickmaster: took me ages to realize it

ynshere: better later than never

brickmaster: you always say that brickmaster: you never change do you

ynshere: nop ynshere: i evolve if anything

brickmaster: i missed you

ynshere: me too El, so much.

brickmaster: i wish we could hang out like good ol' times

ynshere: ew now you are starting to sound like Joel

brickmaster: oh fuck off brickmaster: i'm being sweet for once and you're ewing me like that?...never again

ynshere: lol i'm just kidding dumbass ynshere: i wish we could hang out like we used to back in high school ynshere: i miss seeing your stupid face everyday

brickmaster: stupid? I think you meant pretty* brickmaster: or gorgeous* brickmaster: yeah that's more appropriate

ynshere: ..i'm going to log out

brickmaster: noooo stay please :( brickmaster: what would i do without you

ynshere: you're such a failure ynshere: Joel should've worn a condom that night

brickmaster: jokes on you... he did but there was a hole in it

ynshere:……

brickmaster: my mum told me that...i don't know what to believe

ynshere: Ellie.

brickmaster: what

ynshere: you're a lost cause.

brickmaster: gonna make me blush

ynshere: i don't think i've ever seen you blush before like actually

brickmaster: cause i don't blush brickmaster: i make ladies blush, never the other way around

ynshere: damn such an alpha ynshere: your parents must be so proud of you

brickmaster: nah they hate me

ynshere: yeah, i wonder why…

brickmaster: you know brickmaster: ever since Cat and i broke up things have been weird

ynshere: how so?

brickmaster: well we have the same group of friends so it's just awkward, you know? brickmaster: i feel really alone sometimes and i miss you really bad brickmaster: i miss having you around, being in the same classes and all that

ynshere: i know we can't see each other but i'm here for you ynshere: always. ynshere: you can call me or message me anytime i really don't mind, i love talking to you

brickmaster: thank you yn, it really means a lot to me brickmaster: it's just… i feel abandoned brickmaster: she made me look like the bad guy for breaking up with her, it feels like they don't want me around

ynshere: have you tried telling them about the whole thing?

brickmaster: yeah brickmaster: but they're all up Cat’s ass and it's annoying brickmaster: i feel betrayed in some sort of way

ynshere: i'm sorry Ellie ynshere: they sound like shitty friends ynshere: maybe it's time to get new friends?

brickmaster: i know they suck but they were the only friends i had

ynshere: i'm sure you'll make new friends ynshere: you'll meet better people ynshere: hang out, go to parties don't stay in your dorm all day

brickmaster: you're right brickmaster: but like what did i do wrong? brickmaster: it's clear that they’d rather be friends with Cat brickmaster: fuck i feel like crying right now

ynshere: baby :( ynshere: hey listen to me, you did nothing wrong. you are amazing

brickmaster: i'm sorry for dropping all this on you brickmaster: i understand it can be too much

ynshere: don't you dare apologize for feeling upset, Williams. ynshere: it's okay, really ynshere: i'm here for you. It's not too much, you're never too much.

brickmaster: you're the only one i can talk to freely without feeling judged brickmaster: well you and Dina of course, but i don't wanna annoy her with my shit

ynshere: oh Ellie ynshere: i know for a fact that Dina cares about you as much as i do ynshere: you're never a burden to us, understand? ynshere: glad you vented to me

brickmaster: thank you so much yn brickmaster: you have no idea how much this means to me brickmaster: can i tell you something

ynshere: of course

brickmaster: you know that party at Jesse’s? brickmaster: the one from two years ago

ynshere: yeah what about it?

brickmaster: i always wondered if things went differently brickmaster: like if me and Cat never happened brickmaster: i remember i had the whole night planned, i wanted to spend time with you alone

ynshere: you never told me that

brickmaster: well you left earlier than expected that night sooo

ynshere: you're making me regret getting drunk that night ynshere: i was so sick, i remember drinking too much

brickmaster: yeah lol you were fucking wasted brickmaster: i have an idea

ynshere: shoot ynshere: and it better not include putting a dinosaur toy in your microwave

brickmaster: lmao no i'm over that phase brickmaster: what if i came visit this weekend? brickmaster: i really miss you and i need a break from this fucking school anyways brickmaster: besides, we promised we would visit each other right?

ynshere: oh my god please do ynshere: i would LOVE to see your ugly ass face again

brickmaster: you miss this ugly face though ;)

ynshere: maybe

brickmaster: fuck i can't wait brickmaster: ooh shit what about your friend Emma?

ynshere: it's whatever i’ll tell her you're visiting, she’ll understand

brickmaster: you sure? brickmaster: you don't have to ditch her for me

ynshere: Ellie. be for fucking real. ynshere: i would ditch anyone for you

brickmaster: alright alright just making sure brickmaster: so what do you wanna do this weekend?

ynshere: don't know, just hang out in my dorm?

brickmaster: sounds good to me brickmaster: anything sounds better than rotting in my dorm all day brickmaster: wanna get drunk too? I could bring some alcohol if you want

ynshere: sure why not? ynshere: if we gotta catch up

brickmaster: we must do it the right way brickmaster: i like the way you think

ynshere: lol see you this weekend?

brickmaster: see you this weekend :)

ynshere: bye bye :))

brickmaster is away.

jessescool has signed in jessescool: yoo yn jessescool: how is it goin? ynshere: JESSE OH MY FUCKING GOD ynshere: MY MANNNNNNN jessescool: lol you feeling alright?

ynshere: Ellie's coming over this weekend :) jessescool: yn using a smiley face. odd

ynshere: shut up. ynshere: SHE'S COMING TO VISIT ynshere: IM SCREAMING

jessescool: about damn time you two got together

ynshere: we're not together ynshere: she's just coming to visit ynshere: we haven't seen each other in like forever

jessescool: will be soon jessescool: is she still dating Cat?

ynshere: she just told me she broke up ynshere: Cat was horrible to her

jessescool: i remember talking to Cat a few times back in high school jessescool: she was odd ynshere: you know what else is odd?

jessescool: what ynshere: your mom dropping you on your head as a baby

jessescool is typing... ynshere is away. jessescool: i'm tired of y'all

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

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ckret2 · 3 months

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Chapter 41 of human Bill Cipher being really sick of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: after absolutely terrorizing Gideon for projecting used car ads into Bill's dreams, tries to blackmail Gideon into working for him again.

But not before showing some unexpected sympathy for the plight of a child psychic on whose shoulders the family's financial future rests.

####

Dipper and Mabel were in the middle of a race on a roller coaster track when Bill wandered back downstairs. He sat on the couch armrest next to Mabel and precariously balanced as he crossed his legs. "So I've been thinking over this whole thing," Bill said. "I think I should apologize to Gideon."

"Work that out all by yourself?" Dipper glanced at the clock. "Wow. And it only took you half an hour."

Mabel finished a lap. While the roller coaster track slowly lifted her car to the top of the hill to start the next lap, she turned to give Bill an appraising look, ready to assess his work. "Apologize for what?"

"For terrorizing him! Is this a trick question?"

She nodded slowly—a little skeptical, but so far so good—but had to look away as she regained control of her car. "What's your angle?"

"I'm equilateral, work it out."

"Shut uuup, I'm serious."

"Why do I need to have an angle? Maybe I want to practice some of the apology lessons they're teaching on Color Critters! Aren't you the one who wanted me to be a decent person? You should be thrilled. You are thrilled."

"Bill."

"Okay fine, I want you to stop looking at me like I'm evil incarnate over a silly little prank letter." He nudged Mabel's head with his elbow. She smacked his arm away. "Isn't that the only reason anyone apologizes? To stop people from getting mad at them?" He lifted his eyepatch and squinted at the screen. "Goose in the left barrel."

Mabel swerved left. "Yes! Eat tail feathers, Dipper!"

"No no no no—!" His anguished groan mingled with angry honks. He tossed down his controller as Mabel sailed past his disabled car. "I'm not playing with Bill in the room."

Mabel laughed. "You're a sore loser!"

"I'll be out of your matted hair in a few minutes," Bill said. "You're cranky, go get a juice."

Dipper stomped from the room, grumbling. "Whatever, I'm getting a snack." He pointed at Bill, "Not because you told me to! I'm just hungry! It's got nothing to do with you!"

"Sure." Bill nudged Mabel again. "C'mon, let me use my training. Don't think I haven't noticed you're trying to mold me into a model citizen. Why bother if I never get a chance to act like one?"

Mabel looked at him thoughtfully. "You know what? Okay. I guess not wanting people to be mad at you is a good enough reason to apologize." She'd been hoping he'd land on genuine remorse, but she'd take what she could get.

"Great! Fisherman's out, Questiony's working, Sixer's gonna be in his cave til dinner, Dolores doesn't care—" Bill gestured toward the door, "so let's get the bracelets and get to the kid's house while the adults are distracted."

Mabel grimaced. "Oough. Right. We have to actually visit him."

"Unless you want me to mail an apology letter—"

"Definitely not." She sighed. "Well, if it's for the greater good... put on something other than a hoodie and let's go."

"You got it." Bill hopped off the couch and swung with one hand around the doorframe as he headed to the stairs.

####

Dipper tried to protest, but he'd missed his window to talk Mabel out of it; and so Bill and Mabel headed out, with Bill in a loose smiley face-covered Hawaiian shirt—Mabel approved of the friendly message—an undershirt, the leggings that looked like jeans, and his dress shoes. In other words, about as disarmingly unthreateningly un-Bill-like as he could get. He seemed to get bouncier and more energetic the longer they walked outside, until by the time they were turning onto Gideon's street he was cartwheeling up the sidewalk.

Bill waited for Mabel to open the gate in front of Gideon's house; but while Bill blithely passed through, Mabel lingered behind a few steps. Bill paused and glanced back. "Hey. All good, star girl?"

"Yeah." Mabel laughed nervously and caught up. "Just... haven't been to his house since before he got weird. Kinda gives me the willies now."

"Can't blame you. This is the guy who agreed to be my sheriff in exchange for custody of your bubble key."

Mabel cringed. "Did he really?"

"Oh yeah. Think he was planning to visit you in there until he wooed you? I never asked him. I didn't want the details."

"Ugh." Mabel shuddered.

Bill paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that ten feet from his front door."

"It's... it's fine." She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Greater good. Right?"

He didn't answer immediately, tapping a foot as he thought. "Listen. Once we're in there, do you want me to go somewhere private to talk with him? So you don't have to worry about him leering at you the whole time?"

"Would you?" Mabel's shoulders slumped as a little tension eased up, relief obvious on her face. "But how will I know if you've apologized properly?"

"That little tattle will tell you if I do an awful job." Bill laughed. "Come on! I don't need you grading me on a rubric! Gimme a chance to prove I can say 'I'm sorry' without my life coach telling me how to behave."

"Thanks, Bill." She gave him a quick hug.

"Sure, any time kid. I'm not about to let any creeps get to you on my watch." Bill stretched his arms out, fingers laced together. "Ready?" When Mabel nodded, Bill knocked on the door.

After a long moment, a worried-looking, gray-haired woman opened the door. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Gleeful!" Bill offered a partial bow. "We're here to visit Gideon, he should be expecting us. Would you let him know we're here?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Her voice was a hushed murmur, as though she were talking to herself—or perpetually concerned about being overheard. She didn't raise her voice much as she called into the house, "Gideon? You have visitors."

Voice muffled, Gideon shouted from upstairs, "Who is it!"

Joy glanced over Bill and Mabel, but her gaze lingered on Mabel's face. "Oh. Aren't you that girl he...?"

"It's Mabel."

Joy said, "It's Mabel, and—"

Gideon let out an alarmed squawk. "Ohmygoodness. JUST A MINUUUTE! Where did I leave my cologne—"

Joy watched the ceiling nervously, listening to the subtle thuds.

Bill glanced her up and down, as though sizing up what he had to work with; and then he smiled brightly and said, "Well, I'm sure the little star's preparing a big entrance! Shall we wait inside?"

Joy started a little. "Oh—yes, of course. Please, come in." She pulled the door open wider and gestured to the sitting area.

Bill and Mabel took a seat on the couch. Bill crossed one ankle over his knee in a casual figure 4, and gestured to the armchair as though he were the host giving his guest permission to sit. Joy hesitated, but took the seat, sitting straight up without touching the back of the seat, feet together and hands laced over her knees.

"And how has Gideon been lately?" Bill asked. "We haven't had a chance to catch up since last summer!"

"Oh—I'm sure he's probably fine," Joy said, eyes darting around—to the clean carpet, to the framed pictures hanging straight on the wall, to the doorway into the kitchen.

"'Probably'?" Bill echoed.

"Well. He's really closer to his father, you see..."

"Nonsense." Bill lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I trust a woman's intuition on this sort of thing." He paused. "I'd wink here, but uh..." He gestured at his eye patch and shrugged with a helpless grin.

Joy curled her lips into her mouth and, for the first time since she'd opened the door, for a fraction of a second, nearly almost smiled. But it faded quickly; and when she spoke, her voice was low enough that Mabel had to lean halfway across the coffee table to hear her. (Bill didn't even move.) "You should probably know before you see him: he... has seemed a little bit cranky, recently."

"Oh?" Bill prompted.

(Mabel mumbled, "'Recently'?" and Bill nudged her.)

"Nothing like he was when he—" Joy faltered and quickly course corrected, "before his arrest. But, a bit. But then he's going through so much—reintegrating into life on the outside, trying to make friends at school..."

"Say, that's nice to hear! Has he made many?"

Joy hesitated. "He's always been... such a precocious child. It makes it hard for him to relate to other... And honestly, I think most of the children are jealous of his talents."

Bill nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure they are. Kids can be so cruel when they notice someone special. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down."

Joy nodded. "Yes—exactly. And he's so... sensitive."

Bill gave Mabel a warning glance. She pursed her lips tightly and puffed out her cheeks. Satisfied she wasn't about to weigh in on why Gideon wasn't making friends, Bill turned back to Joy. "Do you think that's what's been bothering him lately?"

"Well, yes, there's that."

Voice a tad lower, Bill prompted, "And...?"

Joy paused. She twisted her hands together. "And—I think he might be concerned about his father's business."

"Oh, the auto dealership?" Bill sat up a little. "I hope it hasn't been struggling lately?"

"It's... been a slow few months," Joy said. "It must be weighing on him—"

"He doesn't feel responsible, does he?"

Joy quickly shook her head. "Of course not. It isn't his fault. But he's just a little boy, there's not much he can do to help. Besides perform in a commercial, maybe—and he doesn't like that, we don't make him do that anymore—or..." She trailed off. "Well. Not knowing how to help or what to do... I can imagine he must feel... guilty." She stared down at her hands as she spoke.

Bill's gaze never wavered from her face. He nodded slowly. "I'm sure the business must be weighing on the whole family. It can't be easy for you, Joy—keeping a household running during such a difficult time." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll see what I can do to help you all."

Joy stared at his face, eyes shining. "I'm, sorry—did I catch your name?"

"Mr. Locke is fine, thanks. I was in business talks with your son before his incarceration."

Mabel leaned against Bill and whispered, "You mean he hired you to invade my grunkle's brain—"

Bill elbowed her.

Footsteps scurried down the stairs. "I'm coming!" Gideon rushed into the room, tugging his sleeves down his wrists, all gussied up and reeking of three separate hair products. "Hi Mabel my honey pie! What a pleasant surprise, what brings you by so s—" His gaze fixed on Bill, and his sweet smile twisted into fury. "You!"

Joy quickly stood up. "I should be—vacuuming the dining room." She hurried from the room, giving Gideon a wide berth as she went. The sound of vacuuming quickly filled the house.

Gideon never looked away from Bill. "Just what do you think y—"

Bill was on his feet and sweeping across the room before Gideon could get more out. "Hello again! I don't think we were properly introduced. The name's Goldie Locke." He blinked. "Wink."

Gideon grimaced. "You serious? Goldilocks? That's the best you could do?"

"I thought it was funny!"

Mabel scooted up onto the arm of the sofa, took a leap off, and landed next to Bill. "I came up with it!"

Gideon smiled uncomfortably. "Oh—sure, sure. Real cute."

"We came by so Goldie here," Mabel poked Bill's arm with both hands, "could give you a proper apology for his... 'prank.'" She got behind Bill and poked him in the back, directing him toward the stairs. "So you two go off somewhere private and do that! Go! Go on!"

"Wh— private?" Gideon leaned around Bill to give Mabel a pleading look. "M-Mabel, aren't you coming too?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "No, definitely not. I'm staying right here."

"But—but—"

"It's fine! If he tries any—" her voice dropped to a whisper, "—weird space demon magic—you can just scream. But he's basically harmless! I promise."

"But... I don't wanna be alone with..."

Bill put a hand on Gideon's back, turned him around, and practically dragged him toward the stairs. "And she doesn't want to be alone with you, and I'm going to respect her wishes."

Gideon hissed at Bill. He wasn't quite sure what to do when Bill hissed back. No one had ever done that before.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Bill said, giving Gideon a very worrying smile. "I just want an opportunity to show you the sincerity of my remorse. A little heart-to-heart! And anyway, you and I have a lot of catching up to do."

####

The moment Gideon's bedroom door shut, Bill said, in an exaggeratedly innocent golly-gee-whiz voice, "'Well, Mabel, the thing is, I was just cranky because I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in days, because Gideon's been broadcasting mind control dreams to the town multiple times a week! Yeah, you know how you've been waking up feeling hypnotically compelled to buy a car? Good ol' Gideon! But you're right, bullying isn't the solution! I should have just asked him to cast his brainwashing spell a little further from the Mystery Shack—'" Bill cut off with a laugh. "I take it you get the picture! Your flesh is as white as your hair! It's—it's creepy. Stop it."

Gideon was already on the far side of the room, holding a floating arm desk lamp toward Bill like a sword. Voice shaking, he asked, "How do you know about that spell? H-how are you even alive? And here like... like this?"

"Does it matter?" Bill meandered around the room, looking at Gideon's matching nightstands, his TV, the floppy teddy bear on his bed. "Here's the only important question: what's it worth to you for me not to spill the beans to your sweetheart?"

Gideon swallowed hard.

As Bill rounded the bed, Gideon backed away from him until his back was pressed against the wall between his vanity and his dresser. Bill leaned over to look under the bed and nudged a rolled-up tarp with his foot. It unrolled across the floor, revealing Gideon's magic circle. "Uh-huh."

"Please stop looking around my room."

"Relax, I just want to see what's changed! This is hardly the first time I've seen your room." He glanced down at the subtle depiction of his face woven into the pattern on Gideon's carpet. "I've had eyes in here since you were a baby."

He leaned over Gideon's bed, studying his knit zodiac blanket. "Although this eye is new. You went with red, white, and blue? How patriotic." He tugged at the blanket's edges, straightening it out. "Lots of pilling on the yarn, this thing's been very well loved. Does it still smell like Shooting Star, you cretin?"

"You keep your hands off of Mabel's blanket, you—!" Gideon swung his lamp toward Bill. It missed by a foot.

Bill didn't even flinch. "You're very lucky that you missed." For a moment, his voice was inhumanly low.

Gideon's blood ran cold. He clutched the lamp against his chest. "W-what do you want from me? I'm sorry I disturbed your sleep, all right? Is that what you want to hear?!"

"It's a good start!" Bill sat on Gideon's bed and made himself comfortable, propping himself up on his elbows, ankles crossed casually, resting in the center of his own zodiac. "Now, promise you'll stop advertising in people's dreams, and everything's forgiven!"

"I..." Gideon bit his lip.

Bill grinned a little wider. "What's the problem, kid? It's not like your daddy needs you running his advertising campaign! The family finances aren't resting on your shoulders!" He laughed.

Gideon just bit his lip harder.

"Oh wait. Maybe they are. Are they?"

He looked down at the tarp. "Mrrng."

Bill sat up, leaning forward until he caught Gideon's gaze again. "So sorry, Star Boy! I didn't realize how serious your situation is!" His wicked smile said otherwise. "Wow, that must be so hard for you—the family breadwinner, at such a young age. Knowing your family needs you to keep them afloat. And it's not like you can just go out and get a job! So what can you do, except... well, whatever it is you already know how to do? Putting on a good show, right?"

"It's not like that," Gideon snapped, ignoring the weight in the pit of his stomach. He looked down at his lamp weapon and tugged anxiously at one of his sleeves. "It—it's not as though we're broke! We just... might have to tighten our belts a little bit, that's all. It's normal, most businesses have their ups and downs."

"Of course. Just no big shopping trips for a while! Pity you're about to need a whole new wardrobe, though." Bill casually pushed himself off Gideon's bed, taking a step closer. "Hey, wanna know when your next growth spurt starts?"

Gideon shrank down. "No."

"It costs a lot to keep a growing kid clothed. And fed, and stocked with school supplies... If father asks for a little help, how can you refuse? If you don't, you could lose the business, lose your house, lose everything... all that, plus knowing it'd be your fault for not doing what you can? It's heartbreaking."

Bill leaned over Gideon, propping himself up with a hand on his dresser, trapping him in his shadow. Gideon cringed; but Bill asked, voice unexpectedly low and almost gentle, "You're so important. There's a helplessness that comes from wielding that kind of power, isn't there?"

The weight in Gideon's stomach grew heavier. Bill must have been watching his life ever since last fall; that was the only way he could have understood what Gideon was feeling so well. And yet—hearing someone else put it into words was a strange relief. He'd cut to the bleeding core of the issue. Gideon was the only one with the power to do anything, so he had to do something. It was a helplessness.

"Yeah." Gideon put his lamp back on his dresser, defeated. "Yeah, there is."

Bill crouched in front of Gideon, meeting him at eye level. "It just so happens that I'm sympathetic to your situation, kid. I get it." It was hard to read the mood in Bill's alien gaze; but for a moment, Gideon was sure he really did see a glimmer of sympathy in his slit pupil. "So how about this: I could help you out. Make some calls, pull some strings... give the family business a little boost," he said. "If you do me a couple small favors first."

Outraged, Gideon shouted, "You're blackmailing me into working for you again?! You—!" With a furious grunt, Gideon shoved Bill away from him.

To his surprise (and immediate horror), Bill lost balance, toppling onto his back with a yelp. But he just rolled onto his side and hopped back to his feet, laughing. "No no no! I'm blackmailing you into knocking off the annoying dream spell. That's all! Cut it out, or I'm telling Mabel. And—heck, how about the police while I'm at it?"

"You wouldn't—"

"I am pals with the sheriff and the mayor. Mind control happens to already be illegal in Gravity Falls, you can thank Quentin Trembley for that—such a forward thinker! I don't think there are any state-level laws yet, but I bet they'll wriiite ooone just for yoo-oou." The last sentence came out as a singsong taunt. "Anyway: drop the mind control. That's all I'm asking for. Okay?"

Gideon had circled around Bill to his bed, where he pulled off his zodiac blanket and bundled it against his chest. He wasn't sure which sounded worse. Prison probably should, but the thought of giving Mabel a fresh reason to hate him... He looked down at the blanket, and heaved a shaky sigh. "Okay."

"So? We're agreed? No more dream advertisements?"

"No more dream advertisements. You win."

"Great!" Bill beamed at Gideon. "But then, completely separately, if you want help saving the family business... well, offer's on the table! In fact, I'd happily offer to help without asking anything in return—"

"—you should, it's mostly your fault—"

"—except that, with my own situation being like it is, what with the limited access to my usual resources... I need you to help me help you." He spread his hands apologetically. "Nothing I can do about it."

Gideon pressed his lips together, looking down at his zodiac blanket. A fold in the fabric displayed part of the ripped heart. Gideon plucked out the blanket until he could glimpse the top of the shooting star.

He swallowed hard. "No. Absolutely not."

Bill blinked. "'Scuse me?"

"I can't accept your help," Gideon said. "I lead a support group of ex-cons—the very same ones I stupidly led into battle for you—and what would they say if they heard I was working for you again?"

The indulgent smile on Bill's face vanished. Rage flashed in his eye. "What would they say if they learned you're the first among them to reoffend?" He pointed at Gideon's magic circle. "Wouldn't they be disappointed. Aren't they your followers these days?"

Gideon squirmed under Bill's glare, backing away until he bumped into one of his nightstands. "F... 'followers'?"

"Your devotees—now that your Tent of Telepathy audience has abandoned you." The new smile that twisted across Bill's face now was hard and cruel, and his eye fixed like a prison searchlight on Gideon made Bill seem much closer than he was. "Isn't being worshiped sublime, Star Boy? That unconditional love? A worshiper will always be more reliable than some girl's fickle heart. But even the most 'unconditional' love always comes with fine print. How far are you willing to go to remain worthy of their love?"

Bill pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and waved it in the air. "We both know you'll help your daddy's business. The only question is if you'll do it your way, or mine." He placed the paper on Gideon's dresser and tapped it with his finger. "My way doesn't even involve breaking the law."

Gideon shook his head. "I won't..."

"I'll leave it with you anyway."

Bill strolled around the bed. "Well! I think we're finished here, how about you?" He stopped in front of the door.

He turned back. "Gideon, you're gonna have to get the door, I can't..."

"What?" Gideon asked. "Y'can't what?"

Bill huffed. "I'm sort of under this curse? So. If you could just—"

Gideon burst out laughing in disbelief. "The Amnesia Limina curse? You can't open doors?! Are you kidding me!"

"I can still ruin the rest of your embarrassingly short mortal life, you twit. Just—just get over here—"

Still laughing, Gideon crossed the room and got the door.

"Yeah. Thanks. Great."

As they came downstairs, Mabel hopped off the sofa. "Sooo? How'd the apology go?"

"Great!" Bill got in front before Gideon had a chance to speak. "I think we really understand each other better. Isn't that right, Gideon?"

Gideon grumped, "I think it's the worst 'apology' I've ever heard."

Bill gave him a dirty look powerful enough to kill a skittish horse; but he flinched under the weight of Mabel's disappointed frown. He laughed nervously, "Okay, so I still need some practice with my delivery! Human tones are finicky." He stared at Gideon. "But you accept the overall content of it, right?"

Bill was giving Gideon the creepiest smile he'd ever seen. But Mabel, on the other hand, was giving him this hopeful look—like she wanted this to go well so badly, and only Gideon could make or ruin her day. There's a helplessness that comes with wielding that kind of power.

In the world Gideon had been raised in, if someone who has transgressed against you apologizes, you don't have the right to withhold their forgiveness—it makes you as bad as the transgressor. The only way he could refuse was if he told Mabel he hadn't even gotten any apology; but there was no way to say that without admitting what they'd really discussed. "Yeah," Gideon muttered at his shoes. "I s'pose I accept it."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air so enthusiastically she lifted a few inches off the floor. "Great work! Happy face stickers for everybody!" She smacked a sticker on Bill's shirt and Gideon's lapel.

They tugged out their clothes to inspect their stickers. Bill's had a giant yellow smiley face over the words "Good job!" Gideon's had a smiling whale surrounded by the words "WHALE DONE". They were both disproportionately elated by their prizes.

"So can we go now?" Mabel whispered, "I feel like Mr. Gleeful's new clown painting is staring at me."

"Just one second. I should have a word with the missus of the house." Bill waved back at the kids as he trotted from the room. "Be right back!"

Mabel eyed Gideon warily.

Gideon smiled winningly. "So, Mabel. As long as you're already over here, would you like to stay for dinner—?"

"Nuh-uh." She turned and headed for the door. "Goodbye forever!"

"Aw."

Bill followed the sound of vacuuming through the kitchen into the dining room, and rapped on the doorframe. "Knock knock."

Joy flinched and spun around. "Oh." She turned off her vacuum. "Yes, Mr. Locke?"

"Just wanted to thank you for your hospitality before we leave!"

"Oh—yes, of course. You're welcome."

He lowered his voice, "And I also wanted to tell you not to worry about a thing. I'm sure everything will turn out fine for your family—and for you." He flashed her a winning smile.

She hesitantly nodded. "Thank you."

####

As they walked to the gate around the Gleeful property, Mabel said, "You weren't just all talk with Gideon's mom, were you? You actually are planning to help her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Something like that. How'd you know?"

"You told her to call you Mister. That means you mean business!"

A crooked smile stretched across his face. "Hey! No fair, you know too much. You're figuring out all my secrets."

Out on the sidewalk, Bill did a cartwheel, attempted to turn it into a handstand, and fell on the sidewalk. He brushed off a scraped elbow with a grumble and got back up. Well, it matched his burn on the other side.

"4 out of 10."

"I didn't ask."

Mabel snickered. "You know—your conversation with Gideon might not have gone perfectly. But you realized you did something wrong, you apologized for it, and you're gonna do better." She patted his arm. "I'm really proud of you, Bill. That's some serious growth."

"Really?"

"Really."

He beamed. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had been proud of him. (Granted, he didn't generally tolerate relationships in which somebody felt like they had enough superiority over him to feel "pride" toward his actions. Generally "awe" or "admiration" were more common.) He was basking in the praise. He was over the moon. He was euphoric. He was the best person to ever exist.

The fact that the praise was horribly misplaced didn't faze him in the least.

####

Gideon had spent the past minute picking peas out of his pot pie and scooting them to the edge of his plate.

Bud cleared his throat. "Son, you really ought to eat your vegetables. And they'll taste better mixed in with the rest of your food than all by themselves."

"I don't want my peas."

"But they're good for you! Don't you want to grow up big and strong—?"

Gideon flinched. He pounded the table. "I said I don't WANT my peas!"

"All right, okay, that's fine! Just thought I'd suggest it."

Gideon grumpily scooped up a forkful of chicken, carrots, and corn, eyed the carrots skeptically, and took a bite. It was fine. "So, father. How was work?"

Bud sighed. "Oh, it would've made more sense just to close for the day. At least then I wouldn't be wasting money on air conditioning the office."

"Oh." Gideon stabbed at a lone piece of corn with his fork. "Maybe we oughta... stop with the nighttime ads. It doesn't sound like they're helping."

"Ahh, you might be right."

Gideon heaved a sigh of relief.

"I just don't know what else to try." Bud shook his head. "I've tried newspaper ads, TV ads, radio ads, billboards, fliers, sales, cutting brake lines..." He settled his hand near Gideon's spot at the table. "Son, you know I know you're doing the best you can to help our family, and it means more to me than I can say. But, if there's anything else you can think of...?"

Gideon tried to avoid his father's gaze—and instead, spotted his mother. She usually kept to herself during dinner, wholly focused on her own plate when she wasn't setting out dishes or cleaning them up. But tonight, she was looking right at Gideon. Like she expected something out of him, too.

He shrank into his seat. "Well. I've got one other idea I could try."

####

Gideon shut the door to his room—and, just to be safe, stuck his chair under the doorknob. Then he gingerly picked up the paper on the dresser and unfolded it.

The same tall, thin handwriting as on the letter he'd received—but even more cramped, cramming as much text on one torn-out book page as possible. A terse paragraph of instructions, a phone number, a numbered list of questions, a prepared statement.

Gideon got his mobile phone and a notebook, set up to take notes at his vanity, took a deep breath, let it out, and dialed the number. As the phone rang, he looked at himself in the mirror and muttered, "Heaven help me if I'm facilitating the start of Armageddon."

Then someone picked up, and he held the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Oh, right, er—" He read off the paper Bill had given him, "'But rises gold over the pyramid.' ... Yes. Mhm, I'm calling on behalf of... of Bill Cipher. ... My name's not important, I'm just the messenger—oh, oh you recognize my voice! Haha!" He mopped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "A-always nice to meet a fan! Yeah, we know each other. Small world. N... no, he didn't give me my... I was—was psychic before I met him, actually. Sorry, I didn't catch your name—who'm I speaking to?"

Gideon looked at Bill's list of questions, wrote a 1. in his notebook, and beside it wrote "Sue Blime." One question down. "I have a message to pass on."

####

He pushed harder.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.

And then he laughed louder, and louder—higher, shriller, echoing all the way to the distant stars. "What am I doing?" He opened his eye and looked at his hands, tangled with gold threads and soaked in blood. He laughed again, gleeful. "What am I doing! None of this is real! This is a dream! We're in my dreamscape. None of this matters! I control all of you!"

Bill controlled all of them.

He effortlessly peeled his arm off the plane of his dimension into the third, still tangled in gore, and spun his finger. The golden shreds of skin let go of his hand, rotating around his hand in a loose tornado. Cackling again, he rose up into space, looping like a paper airplane on a breeze, telekinetically twirling the countless golden shreds with him like he was doing a ribbon dance. And wasn't it beautiful? He was changing their color—yellow green blue violet red orange yellow—he was melting them down to floating drops of liquid gold, he was making them vanish into thin air. There was no blood on his hands. There never had been. He had never killed. His mother did not exist.

He glanced toward the stars. "Am I gonna have any meddling from you? Want to sell me any cars tonight?"

The stars didn't answer. Good. He didn't want his show interrupted by a commercial break.

"I control you," Bill announced to the crowd of assembled worshipers below, numb and thoughtless and unmoving while the god of this dream had no use for them to live. "You answer to me!" He jabbed his thumb against his golden face—not the internal organs exposed to the third dimension the rest of the shapes had, but the exoskeleton he wouldn't start wearing until centuries after this memory. "The only life you have is in my head! All of you, all of you have been burned away for a trillion years!" He paused, then flashed two finger guns at a red hexagon in the crowd. "All except you, Hect. Always great to see a long-time fan!"

In the field of frozen shapes, Bill's memory of Hectorgon hesitantly waved.

"But..." Beneath Bill, still as aghast as he'd been so many eons ago, still playing his part to move this dream along, his father said, "But... what are we going to tell your followers?"

"Ugh, you're such a downer. Give it a rest, you old square!" Bill did something no prisoner of the second dimension had ever been capable of doing: he snapped his fingers. His father silently dissolved into origami butterflies and fluttered into space. "You barely even liked her."

He floated back down to the plane, lacing his fingers together to stretch his arms in front of him. "I don't need you," he muttered. "I've got this handled. I've always been the one who had this handled. Now let's end this dream the right way."

Time to sucker his suckers.

He swooped through the open doors to speak to his assembled worshipers as effortlessly as though he'd been doing this a trillion years: "My beautiful, loving believers! I have wonderful news. Your high priestess—my mother—has passed on; but, you should be celebrating! Because she hasn't abandoned us! Her spirit's just ascended—not up, but out of our dimension and into the third, where the spirits of all departed shapes live on! Her spirit's formed a bridge from there to me, and through me to you! She's revealed the true nature of the third dimension—a sublime realm of color and life—and I'll reveal it to you, too!"

The black starry void of the third dimension above Bill mutated as he spoke; now, it was raucous colors, beams of light, and glittery gold. Faraway neon-colored shapes danced deliriously through nebulas and clouds.

"I'll teach you the secrets passed down to us from the enlightened third-dimensional spirits; I'll show you how to see it all for yourself... and if you follow me, if you devote yourself entirely to my teachings, if you trust me blindly—blindly, for I can see what others can't—then I'll guide you INTO the third dimension! I will be your teacher, your divine guide, your muse! So tell me: do you trust me?"

The worshipers cheered.

"Do you worship me?!"

The worshipers screamed.

"Do you love me!"

The worshipers howled, mad with love for Bill, ripping each other apart in a spontaneous outpouring of zealotry.

Bill's shrieking laughter rose up above the roar of his imaginary crowd.

####

For the first time since his death, Bill woke fully rested. Dawn streamed in through the attic window, shining golden on the cloud of curly hair dangling in front of his eyes. And wasn't it beautiful? He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothed it back, and pushed it into the right shape.

He checked to make sure no humans were coming for a while, slid Journal 4 out of its hiding place, and flipped to the page where he'd stuck his "Good Job!" sticker. He'd used his stolen half-dried marker to blacken the sides of the yellow smiley face, turning it from a circle into a triangle, draining the last of its ink in the process. He wasted four pages with every detail he could recollect from this dream, going on and on about how easy it had been to assert his rightful control, how effortless to control time and space. If he ever found the human who wrote that lucid dreaming guide, he was giving 'em a planet.

At the end, he wrote in English, "You'll regret turning me down as your teacher, Stanford. You can't even imagine how many people would have committed murder to get that kind of attention. But I gave it to you."

He tried to remember how that sermon had really gone.

What did he need to remember the truth for? It must have gone something like that. He wouldn't still be here if it hadn't, would he?

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate a comment!! Next week we kick off with more of Bill's history—and then start ramping up for the biggest, longest plot arc so far.)

#bill cipher #(for the art)#human bill cipher #gideon gleeful #(for the chapter)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #(I'm disappointed i didn't get to draw Bill menacing Gideon; but i only had time for one illustration and i picked Lots Of Colors.)#(plus it's nice every once in a while to get a reminder of what Bill actually looks like)

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dxrlingx · 2 months

Text

Scaramouche x F!reader

NSFW under the cut [full ver. of this]

Warnings: AFAB!reader, student x teacher, age gap(scara is in his 20s n reader her early 30s), slightly OOC scara?, switch!scara x switch!reader, piv, clit play, exhibition kink, mommy kink. Not proof-read.

Working in a new college as the history teacher oh so suddenly was more stressful than you expected it to be. But it had a good pay and the students there loved you so you didn't have much to complain. You loved being a teacher, it has been your dream ever since you were a little kid; though marking endless papers everyday and planning out lessons for the next day every night was tiresome, scaramouche, the student of your history class, was more tiring to deal with than anything or anyone else. You had to sometimes take a deep breath and stop yourself from snapping at him. Even though you were his teacher, older than him and wiser, that didn't stop him from shamelessly making fun of you for being "seductive" for having a swarm of horny good-for-nothing students that drools over you like dogs in heat. You'd roll your eyes at him, saying that you don't have any interest in having sexual intercourses with your students.

...Well that was your mindset. Until today.

You lift your head up from the papers you were reviewing to the door that had been barged opened with scaramouche angrily storming in, holding up his recent history test paper and pointing at the big '27/50' you had written on his paper. Gritting his teeth and spitting insults at you, demanding you to change his grades. You slammed your hands on your table, standing up from your seat as you grabbed his face, squeezing it as you pulled him closer, glaring at him. "You think just because your daddy's rich and you get your way with everything and everyone, you could do the same with me? Don't make me laugh.. tsk" You whispered sharply in his ears. Scaramouche was lost for words, gritting his teeth as he glared back at you. He tried his best to hide the fact that he was completely turned on by all this. Getting dominated by you, your harsh words and the scent of your perfume that always manages to drive him crazy; was all too much for him to handle, getting all hard in his pants like a fucking loser. Well, he was one.

You let out a heavy sigh, adjusting his face so that his eyes are fixed directly into yours, face relaxing as your lips curved into a teasing smirk. "Since you want me to raise your marks up so badly.. I guess I'll do it for you, just this once. But~ you have to give me something else in return, only then it will be fair, no?" You whispered to him yet again, bucking your knee as you pushed it right against his aching erection, earning a choked moan and a glare in return. "Are you serious? You really think I would agree to do tha-" "Oh dear don't be so stubborn now, do you really think I missed the way your eyes longingly stare at my chest whenever I lean down to help you with your work? Or when you would stare at my ass everytime I turn my back on you, only to catch you looking away with a blushing face as soon as I turn my head to face you? It's all too obvious darling.."

Scaramouche's face was as red as ever, his eyes avoided your gaze at the realisation that he's been caught red handed. And it embarassed him how much he wanted to fuck you, but for the sake of keeping up his pride he had to act like he didn't want to indulge in your request. His body tensed up as he felt you rub your knee against his erection, he cleared his throat nervously as he faced you. "F-fine. But only for my grades, don't think it's because I want to.. do that with you or anything" Your eyes lit up, chuckling. "Whatever you say, dear~" You responded teasingly as you shoved him down on your chair, opening the buttons of your blouse as you pulled down your skirt, biting your lips impatiently as you undid his belt, pulling out his erection leaking with pre-cum as you giggled. "Oh my, you're more excited than i thought you would be."

Holding his cock against your hole you slowly sinked down, biting your lip as you whined. Scaramouche groaned and gritted his teeth at the feeling of your tight warm walls enveloping around his cock, gripping the handles of the chair his hips twitched, unintentionally thrusting up as his tip poked against your g-spot. "A-ah!.. shit.. mommy's gonna move now okay?.." You said through heavy breaths, lifting up your hips as you slammed back down, back arching at the feeling. You sped up, riding scaramouche faster as you gripped on his shoulders for support. "Ngh- fuck! M-mommy.. slow down agh.." You opened your eyes, staring at scaramouche who was a blushing mess, his eyes were hazy and his lips slightly parted as he let out whines and moans. His hands travelled up to your boobs, grabbing a hold of them as he fondled them as he pleased. You choked out a moan as your hips twitched, signalling you were close to your release, scaramouche was holding back to just cum right there and there, the feeling of your pussy too much for him to handle.

You let out a gasp as scaramouche suddenly lifted you up, roughly laying you down on your desk as he lifted your right leg over his shoulder, staring into your eyes with a smirk as he pulled out completely, only to slam back into you roughly, his cock bullied in and out of your pussy quickly, pushing you both closer and closer to your climax. "S-scara!~ ah- ngh.. 'm gonna, g-gonna cum!" Scaramouche sped up, his thumb rubbing your clit. "Yeah? N-ngh-.. gonna cum for me? Fucking cum.. cum for me" He hissed, hand gripping your thigh which was rested on his shoulder as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, only to slow down his thrusts as he glanced at the door. "Shit" He cursed under his breath, his friend was here, searching for him. Scaramouche had made plans with his friend to head home together.. and he had forgotten about it.

"Scaramouche? 'Ya done talking to the teacher yet?" The door handle rattles, thank celestia it was locked. Scaramouche stared down at your worried face, his frown turning to a smirk as he went back to fucking you silly. His thumb circled around your clit even faster, bringing you over to your edge. His hand clasped against your mouth to muffle your sounds. "Scaramouche? Scara? You in there?" The door handle continues to rattle, your eyes rolled back in your head as you threw your head back, legs shaking as you squirted all over, your juice covering the documents on your table as well as scaramouche's abdomen. You closed your eyes in bliss, your hands grasping his wrist as you bit your tongue to further muffle your moans. Scaramouche let out a groan as his warm seed spurts in your womb. As he heard his friend's footsteps disappear he removed his hand from your mouth, pulling out slowly with a sigh, his hand caressing your cheek.

"Made you squirt like a slut, so give me full marks yea?"

#genshin impact #dom reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #student x teacher #teacher x student #sub scaramouche #dom scaramouche #sub reader #teyvat #smut #teacher x reader #genshin scara #genshin #fem reader

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ink4blotches · 11 months

Note

Pav x spider reader who is from spider-punks world and is like a little sister to hobie but likes Pav cause I need more Pav fics 😭😭

I gotchu anon ;) I'll probably be asleep when this uploads but just so you know I was rolling around in my bed writing this simply because Hobie's British in this is so bad so please forgive that little...thing.

Synopsis/Feels: Reader is Hobie's little sis but not by blood but u can't rlly tell, bad British slang beware, clueless Pav, mentions of Tom Holland(TW), etc.

Word Ct.:667

Without further ado...

Spider-Who?(Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader)

"Woah, he's awesome..." I sigh in amazement as I watch Pav swoop through the streets of Mumbattan.

"Mumbattan has the worst traffic I tell ya...aye, wot er you lookin at, kid?" Hobie asks as he realizes I've got my eyes focused on the streets below.

"Just...stuff..." I dodge his question as I take a bite of my scone, courtesy of your 2nd favorite Brit. It's me, I'm the 1st favorite Brit of course.

"Too right...you ready to skedaddle back to our universe kid? I miss me guitar." Hobie shrugs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Er...yeh, I guess." I sigh, watching as Hobie opens a portal(idk how the portal thing works Sue me).

"Hey guys! Leaving so soon?" Pav suddenly lands next to us, looking flawlessly perfect despite fighting a whole villain just a second ago.

"Yeh, sorry mate but yer universe is borin...right kid?" Hobie asks me. I barely hear him and decide to disregard it in favor of staring at Pav.

"Kid? Hello? Yer brain get hit with a rock...?" Hobie asks, popping me in the back of my head.

"I'm good! I'm great. Sorry, were said what you?" I immediately realize my sentence makes no sense as Pav and Hobie both look at me in confusion.

Hobie locks eyes with me.

Don't look at Pav, don't look at Pav, don't look at Pav...

My eyes dart to Pav and quickly go back to Hobie's.

FUCK.

"Oh, I gotcha...lil bugger's got a crush. Ain't that a bitch...wild how he ain't even from your own universe." Hobie says casually.

"What? Is it someone from the Spider Society?! Miles? Or Gwen?" Pav starts throwing out random names of teenage Spider-Men from the society.

"Wait...don't tell me it's....Miguel?!" Pav looks at me in disgust for a second before I shoot a web at his mouth.

As I watch Pavitr try to pry the web off Hobie pulls me to the side.

"C'mon, you gotta pick another. Love Pav, but he's...y'know....Pav." Hobie trails off, assuming I understand him.

"Well yeh, but he's also...Pav, y'know?" I argue slightly.

"Right and I get that...but he's Pav." Hobie complains to me, his grip on my shoulder tightening.

"I'm not gonna have this conversation with you Hobart. Don't you have taxes to file?" I ask with an eye roll.

"Fine, fine!" Hobie holds both his hands up in surrender. "You gonna tell 'im soon? Might have to spell it out since he's...Pav." Hobie shrugs.

"You mean you don't care?" I ask with a raise of my eyebrow.

"Course not kid. He might be Pav, but 'e's also Pav." Hobie emphasizes his words like it'll magically make sense.

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Pav asks, finally joining us.

I give Hobie a silent plead.

"Nun much...I was bout to head back. Kid said she wants to stay awhile though." Hobie lies.

For reference I was thinking it but I didn't want to say it.

"Oh, great! I can show you my favorite street food stands and where the stray dogs are and where all the traffic is!"

"Oh. Where all the traffic is...great. Can't wait." I try to fake being excited.

"Catch you later, bugger. Try not to get pied off loser!" Hobie does a small salute before stepping through an open portal.

"Huh...? What does pied off mean?" Pav asks with an eyebrow raise.

"Nothing! Nothing at all...honestly it doesn't mean anything." I lie straight to Pav's face.

"...I don't believe you." Pav replies with suspicion in his eyes.

"Uhhhh....oh my god, is that Tom Holland?" I gasp loudly and point at the streets below us.

Pav's neck almost snaps as he looks.

"What?! Where?!"

Phew. Safe. Nailed it.

I watch as Pav swings down to the streets to find Tom Holland, who was never there in the first place.

I'll tell him. One day. But today is not the day.

•••••••••••

TAGLIST: @ihearthxh @sweetheartlizzie07 @the-vulcan

MASTERLIST

#pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr x you #atsv pavitr #atsv #atsv x you #actsv #pavitr x y/n #spiderverse pavitr

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beauspot · 1 year

Text

ok i’ve had time to sit with this viewing of wakanda forever and im only going to try to add things i haven’t spoken about before UNLESS my opinion on something has changed. i do have namuri and okoyuma brainrot so excuse any shipper nonsense you don’t care about 🥴

L O N G P O S T 👇🏾

Small Details I Noticed:

as t’challa was being carried to the city of the dead after the funeral two wakandan ships cross in the sky like they’re doing the wakandan salute

when ramonda meets with the united nations she wears purple and gold symbolizing how she’s “taking care of business” like killmonger

the color red is associated with tradition in wakanda and everything new is associated with the color the blue and blue typically is associated with what element? water

aneka and ayo are so cute 😙

the shift from background music to it being diegetic sirens was masterful

i couldn’t figure out why namor said shuri was the first surface dweller in talokan but he had a suit. then i realized duh it was from the start of the movie 🥴

Why does no one go for the Talokanil masks

t’challa falls in love with a river tribe girl, ramonda finds comfort by sources of water I don’t find it coincidental at ALL her whole family has ties to water.

every time he issues a threat Namor is looking at Ramonda but when he sets the shell down to ask them to call? he looks at shuri.

shuri wears white while she’s working in her lab because she’s still in a mourning period.

shuri’s tribe wears red namor is represented(partially) by blue and what color does shuri wear when she’s taken to his domain? purple.

I JUST REALIZED T’CHALLA JR IS THE KID THAT WALKED UP TO RAMONDA

NAMOR IS NOT THE VILLAIN. IMMEDIATELY AFTER HE TOLD SHURI THE SURFACE WOULD ATTACK THEY CUT TO A SCENE OF THEM PLANNING TO ATTACK WAKANDA

attuma is down horrendous he ain’t even join the fight in wakanda he just went looking for okoye. STAND UP.

namor and shuri pausing to stare at each other before she shoots cause they really don’t want to fight 😐

people keep saying ross’ scenes weren’t necessary and yet fully missed that namor was proved right by his scenes

N’Jadaka TOLD YALL ramonda gave her life to save riri. (doesn’t justify namor’s actions but don’t take away her agency)

shuri’s panther ears on her helmet point down like she’s ready to pounce whereas t’challa’s pointed up showing he was docile

shuri’s actions fully show us namor’s origin and how he ends up as adamant and stubborn as he is. their hatred turned them into warmongers shuri is just able to stop herself before she does something truly irreversible.

namor is such a loser he really thought shuri was finna call him on his shellphone.

in the midst of everything she remembers holding hands with namor as they watched the sunrise…hm.

Random Thoughts I Had During the Movie:

That chairman who introduced Ramonda was fine as hell

That french lady shook her head like her men ain’t break into that lab that’s wild.

Attuma’s first entrance (on the ship) had me grinning from ear to ear like “HEY BIG DADDY!”

Namor can really be brutal as fuck. The way those agents were screaming as their helicopter was spun into the ocean was scary as hell! (i’m still on his side tho ✋🏾🫱🏾liik’ik talokan)

hi anderson cooper!

i wonder why ramonda cut her hair

when shuri told her mother K’uk’ulkan was covered in vibranium he looked at her like “oh so you looked me over?” 😁

the jibari are hilarious

mbakus very silly but he has a big heart and is clearly very wise

nah okoye is right the midnight angel suit is u g l y

i cannot fully express how annoying i find de fontaine

riri my darling baby girl i love you

okoye don’t look ashy and i’m tired of them coming at my good sis

okoye is so funny 😭

the car chase scenes are always the best in these movies

i need the wakanda forever script

attuma GROWLED at okoye just kiss already

i like that attuma got his own whale and everybody else gotta share

ross is such a smol little guy who’s scared of him 🥴

angela was acting her ass off we know this but you know who else? danai. yup. i should watch the walking dead

everybody in this movie fine as hell

nakia should be in more avengers movies

nakia grew them dreads fast

their shaman was fine too everybody is HOT

why is de fontaines hair purple she looks twelve

if namor got in my face like that i’d kiss him idk

shuri fully forgot she was wearing that man’s bracelet until it was pointed out to her

mbaku’s face when he saw that whale underwater took me out.

see namor dodging shuri’s fire makes no sense he literally stands still when he’s being fired at initially and then hits the ship fire out of the air with his spear.

riri don’t listen cause ramonda definitely told her ass to run

i just-don’t get namor sometimes because he fully could have killed the scientist and shuri and he clearly doesn’t care about eternal war he just DOESN’T DO IT.

Nakia’s funeral outfit is beautiful

i will fully admit that the beauty of tenoch blinded me to namor’s brutality. that man is vicious.

aneka is so funny

iron heart has such a cute anime suit i kinda love it and hate it

we’ll probably see a different one since she can’t take it home though.

there’s something so silly about the way shuri and mbaku start to arm wrestle

the way he said “princess” and stared at her on the ship…he wanted to fuck so bad omg.

the lighting when shuri gets stabbed is insane, it becomes less saturated and green and i really like it 😗

namor’s little butt jiggle as he fell?? lol

the dissenting wakandans and talokanil are going to be a problem moving forward. they’ve each lost people and they’re not gonna let that slide.

WHY SOMEBODY BOO WHEN ANEKA KISSED AYOS HEAD. FUCK OFF HOMOPHOBE

Final Thoughts:

I really love this movie obviously but i think Tenoch being hot kinda blinded me to how cruel Namor can really be. Cause the whole time i’m thinking, he’s hot and he’s right i’m on his side. In general he doesn’t use excessive force and he gives people ample opportunities to stop fucking with him before he really goes off tho.

I still stick with my assessment that Namor isn’t a villain and you’ve missed the point if you think he is, that his actions weren’t justified but i understand he needs to protect his people so it’s not without reason.

I don’t understand why people think shuri shouldn’t have been the black panther okoye is in the dora, nakia is a spy who else was gonna be the panther?

i don’t know exactly why but this movie excites me and i am growing to love it more than any other marvel movie. this is most likely the last time ill see it in theatres since i don’t want to make myself bored with it but i’m really thankful to ryan and co for putting this out they did chad justice

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dark-frosted-heart · 4 months

Text

Alfons vs Roger event (Part 1)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Crown’s relationship is perfectly balanced.

Though they couldn’t be considered friends or family, there’s an unspoken connection and trust.

—Well, except for a certain “pair”.

Alfons and Roger: Unbelievable.

Kate: Did something happen? You two said that together the minute you came back from the mission.

Today, Alfons and Roger were supposed to be chasing after a serial killer who had caused quite a stir.

Roger: Al, if you’d drawn him over, I could’ve sent him to the after life in a heartbeat.

Alfons: Wow, you’re putting the blame on another? Had I not chased after you, you would have dropped dead.

Roger: I’m gonna wrap those words with a ribbon and give them back to you.

Alfons: Then I’ll wrap that ribbon around your neck.

Kate: Um, so what happened to the criminal in the end?

Alfons and Roger: William happened.

Meaning William, who seemed to have gone ahead, took care of the criminal instead of these two who couldn’t work together at all.

Kate: Regardless, I’m glad the criminal was caught.

Alfons and Roger: I’m not.

Kate: Huh?

Alfons: Every time I go on a mission with Roger, my delicate heart gets another scratch. Ahhh, woe is me!

Roger: What delicate heart. A delicate guy wouldn’t come at you himself. (•̀ ⌓ •́)

(This sort of sight isn’t surprising anymore)

Alfons and Roger have known each other since they were kids.

Had they been old friends, they would’ve gotten along exceptionally well. However, it;s the complete opposite for the two of them.

(I have a feeling that these two have the worst relationship in Crown…)

Roger: Geez, I can’t deal with this anymore.

Alfons: Oh, then be my guest. Please leave Crown and live as you like.

(A Crown resignation emergency?!)

I look around, but unfortunately, I seem to be the only one around to intervene.

(What do I do, what do I do? Ah, I got it!)

Kate: You two! I won’t give you any chocolates if you keep fighting!

Alfons and Roger: Chocolate?

Roger: Oh yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day today, isn’t it? No wonder the city was bustling.

Alfons: I heard you were making “sweetheart chocolates” last night, Miss Kate.

Kate: How did you know?

Alfons: I’m the well-informed Mr. Sylvatica.

Last night I was baking sweets with the maids when they encouraged me to make some “sweetheart chocolates”.

(I was planning on eating them all myself…)

Roger: Sounds good. I was gettin' tired of fighting. Let’s have a contest, Al. The winner gets Kate’s chocolates and serves the loser. How’s that sound?

Alfons: It’s the best of the worst of preferences. Yes, I like that.

Kate: Hold on, what is this?!

Alfons: So, what sort of contest are we doing? Anything beside a fistfight is fine. Ah, how about this. We have two shots of vodka, one of which is poisoned. A game with no hard feelings that can be won immediately.

Roger: If one of us kicks the bucket, then there’s no point in the servant rule. Then-

The games the two kept suggesting were so outrageous that it made me dizzy.

(At this rate, a city or two is going to get blown up. What the heck do I do?)

Victor: O~kay my cute cursed ones! This nonsense stops here.

Kate: Victor!

Victor: You two fight the moment I take my eyes off of you. Bad, I say. Bad!

Alfons/Roger: It’s Roger’s fault./It’s Al’s fault.

Victor: I’m not blaming anyone. I don’t mind the contest, okay? However, I don’t like negative games where the other dies from poison and things like that. I can’t afford to lose either of you. That’s not cute at all.

Kate: ……Not cute?

Victor: So here’s my proposal. Remember my friend, Viscount Morris?

Alfons: He’s the rich eccentric who owns a luxury cruise ship.

Victor: Yes, yes. The viscount’s beloved niece’s birthday is today. A birthday party will be hosted in one of his estates. The girl in honor has fled. I believe she went out of the country on vacation.

Alfons: She’s a runaway horse, isn’t she? Perhaps a consequence of being raised like a princess. A pity.

Victor: The viscount came to me in tears, so I considered going as her double…

Roger: If the lady suddenly became huge and burly, that’d make a failure of a party.

Victor: Therefore, Kate. I want you to pretend to be the lady.

Kate: I knew this was where the story was going.

Victor: Haha, you’re becoming more like Crown! So, Alfons, Roger, I want you two to serve as Kate’s caretakers so that she doesn’t get exposed.

Roger: But what’s that gotta do with our contest?

Victor: Hm, that’s actually a good question! How about you compete for “friendship points” while acting as caretakers?

Kate: What are “friendship points”?

Victor: Simple. You get a point if you’re friendly to the other. Oh, and the judge is Kate of course.

Roger: So the winner’s the one with the most points and gets Kate’s chocolates.

The proposal was completely unexpected, but it sounds like a good way for the two to get along.

Kate: I think it’s a good idea. I’ll also help the viscount.

Roger: If the little lady’s fine with it, then I’m game. Besides, it sounds like we’re gonna get kicked because of this pointless fight.

Alfons: I feel as if I’m being forced into something troublesome, but I’m fine with it. I’d also like to put an end to this pointless fight. Well… She and the chocolate will ultimately be mine.

Roger: You sure? I take what I want. You ready for that?

Alfons and Roger looked at me, and I blink in return.

Alfons, in an overly gentlemanly manner, shook Roger’s hand.

Alfons: Let’s have a fair, “friendly” match, Roger.

Kate: Ah. That’s one friendship point for you, Alfons!

Roger: What? Damn it, that was dirty.

Alfons wipes his hand, which had touched Roger’s, with a handkerchief.

Alfons: There’s nothing clean or dirty in this contest, is there Miss Kate?

Victor: Mhmm, it’s charming how they’re becoming fast friends. Fabulous!

#ikemen villains #ikevil translations #ikevil summary #ikevil #ikevil jp

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taizi · 1 year

Note

If you’re still taking prompts… disaster twins being disasters?

Casey can remember being this excited maybe once or twice before in his entire life, but that’s it. He doesn’t realize he’s bouncing in his seat until Michelangelo flops over him, arms folded around Casey’s shoulders and chin propped up on top of his head, grin present in the bright tone of his voice.

“We might be hyping this up too much,” the youngest Hamato—second-youngest, now, Casey reminds himself somewhat shyly—says good-naturedly. “It’s just a spar, CJ.”

“I know,” Casey says quickly, clamping his hands on his knees. He feels like a little kid again, being warned that if he can’t sit still he can’t stay in the dojo to watch training. That’s not anywhere near what Mikey said, but he’s not risking it! He refuses to miss this! “But it’s just—I haven’t seen sensei spar with anyone but Commander O’Neil in ages.”

He doesn’t say that Uncle Raph was killed when Casey was so young that he barely got to keep any memories of him. He definitely doesn’t say that when Uncle Tello died, sensei destroyed a string of Krang corps single-handedly, stumbled home half-dead, and then didn’t come out of the silent lab for three days. When he did finally emerge, some intrinsic, important part of him was gone for good.

By then, Master Michelangelo was too brittle for physical combat, pouring all of himself into the mystic arts instead. April was the only one left who was unafraid to drag Master Leonardo onto the mats, to bring some life back into him. And it was fun to watch, but it wasn’t those high-energy spars he could remember being awed by when he was a child, when all four of the turtles were together and the apocalypse seemed like something they might survive after all.

“I bet I whooped his butt, too,” April interjects loudly from the cozy-looking beanbag chair she dragged into the dojo. Leo shoots her a mock-offended look, hand over his heart, the whole nine yards.

He’s wearing a pair of bright pink cordless headphones, and his warm-up stretches have a lot more energetic bopping around than perhaps strictly necessary. Raph is smiling crookedly as he guides Leo through the forms, watching carefully for any sign of lingering tenderness or soreness and finding none. He’s probably as relieved as all the rest of their mismatched little clan that Leo has healed to this point—casts and leg brace finally discarded, energy ratcheted up to eleven.

Across the mat, Donnie is pretending to be buried in his phone, but he’s watching Leo as raptly as Raphael. If he thought for a second that Leo was nursing some hidden-away hurt, he would find a way to divert the match without anyone the wiser. And it would be something needlessly showy and stupid, too—Casey has the sudden vision of a lair-wide blackout. He pats the penlight clipped to his belt to make sure it’s there, just in case.

But Leo is in fine form, and Splinter steps onto the middle of the mat with a judicious air.

“Now I want a clean match, boys,” he orders, arms folded. “No shenanigans!”

“Aw, not even one?” Mikey pipes up.

The Hamato patriarch considers this carefully, then says, “I will allow ONE shenanigan!”

“Alright Michael!” Leo cheers. “Use those favorite son privileges for good!” He barely dodges the half-hearted strike from Splinter’s tail.

Then Raphael is placing his hands on Leo’s shoulders and giving him a friendly jostle, in the manner of ruffling a puppy’s ears to get it all riled up (a life-affirming maneuver that Casey only recently discovered for himself one early morning coffee run with Cass when they crossed paths with a nice lady and her wriggly baby pit bull) and Splinter is stepping back off the mat and Donnie is sliding his phone away.

“Let me know if you need me to go easy on you, little brother,” Donnie says magnanimously.

“You hatched four minutes before me,” Leo replies. His tone suggests this is an argument they’ve had at least one billion times.

“No one likes a sore loser, Nardo.”

April makes a coughing, cackling sound, and then shouts, “Someone get ready to do the heimlich! My man’s gonna choke on that hypocrisy!”

“APRIL, you were adopted and you can be replaced!” Donnie shouts back over everyone’s laughter. Casey feels like he’s sitting in the sun, surrounded on all sides by warmth and light. He was raised on the scraps of a ruined world, the scraps of love and joy that his family had left to offer him. They gave him everything they could, but he knew they were digging into the bottom of the well. Here, those things are a renewable resource. All the good just stretches and stretches and stretches forever.

Master Leonardo was not a bitter person. But he was very rarely a happy one. Uncle Tello and Rapha were gone and Master Michelangelo was aging rapidly before his eyes, three times as quickly as he should have. April and mom and all the faces that Casey saw everyday were weary and worn thin, constantly braced for the next horrible thing to come.

It heals something in Casey’s chest that he didn’t know was hurting to see them like this instead. A festering, years-old wound finally draining, finally given clean air and room to heal. April’s still heckling and Mikey is still draped over Casey, sturdy and boyish and the brightest thing for miles. Raphael is leaning against the wall, grinning, as eager to watch the show as everyone else. Splinter looks unrelentingly fond and also like he’s expecting this to be a trainwreck.

In the second before Splinter calls the beginning of the match, Donnie’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he says, “Wait, what are you listening to?”

A shit-eating grin stretches across Leo’s face, and in lieu of answering out loud, he lifts a hand and dramatically finger-spells K-A-R-M-A.

“Oooooooh,” Mikey and Raph and April all chorus delightedly.

“Oh, goddammit,” Donnie bites out, visibly preparing to fight for his life.

Then Splinter’s hands come down and the twins burst into movement. There are no weapons in their hands, it’s nowhere near as showy as their fight with the Krang had been, but it’s amazing in its own way.

They’re fast, much faster than the masters of Casey’s timeline because they’re so little in comparison, lean and lithe and all gremlin energy. The two of them move like they know each other as well as their own selves, the blocks and blows meeting as if they were choreographed well in advance, and every step is so quick and so clean that Casey can barely follow it. Five minutes in, Leo’s eyes glow white and then Donnie’s do, and Donnie barks out a surprised laugh.

Mikey yells, “No inside jokes that’s not fair!”

“It’s a nice break from that song. I've heard him humming it in the back of my brain all day,” Raph says ruefully, then quickly holds his hands up when Leo’s head whips around in his direction. “No offense! I like it! Just not—not 16 times in a row, big guy.”

Splinter steps in the instant Leo winces, having landed too heavily on his bad leg after a showy flip.

“Alright, silly melons, that’s enough. Match goes to neither of you because you play too much.”

Whatever complaint the twins might have made is entirely forgotten as they turn to face their dad blankly. Donnie says, “I’m sorry, did you just call us silly melons?”

“Melons are green, yes? And stupidly expensive at all times for no reason.” He pulls a paperback book out of the inner fold of his robe and thumbs through it. “Children like nicknames. The experts have said so.”

Looking torn between helpless confusion and hysterical laughter, Raph says, “What are you reading, pops?”

“Melons cost like $8 in Chinatown when they're in season, where the heck have you been shopping?” Mikey interjects loudly, shooting over the back of the couch like spending too much of the grocery fund on overpriced produce is the first and final straw.

“Seriously, Splints, what are you reading?” April asks, trying to get the book from him.

“Silly melons??” Donnie and Leo demand again. Training for the day is entirely derailed, though that might have been Splinter’s ploy in the first place.

Master Leonardo wasn’t a bitter person. Despite the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the losses he carried around in his heart, Casey’s memories of him are good and warm and only bittersweet because of those final moments, and because of how much Casey misses him every day. Still—even if he was careful not to let it show—Casey knows that Master Leonardo didn’t have a lot of opportunities for joy.

That’s the thing that’s taken the most getting used to here, Casey thinks, watching everyone. That’s the difference his family makes. This Leo doesn’t have to reach very far for a reason to smile.

He glances over his shoulder and his smile widens to include Casey, and Casey hurries off the sidelines to join the rest of them.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #disaster twins #rise leo #casey jr #hamato leonardo #hamato donatello #ratdad #my writing #prompt #anonymous #tmnt fic #swiftie leon agenda continues #working title for this is 'flexing like a goddamn acrobat'#idk whats up with tmnt fics being the vehicle for me forcing my music tastes on my readers lately but it is what it is #this is so silly but i had fun writing it

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mysticmellowlove · 5 months

Note

Teen fem reader x yandere.

They are both in highschool maybes she’s a year below him or just a little younger anyway- she’s know around school for really just having her shit together. She authentic, she’s smart, she knows what she wants to do with her life, she NEVER fights. She’s the type of girl to be nice nasty like of someone tries something she throws out some “I’ll pray for you,” or just something classy yk?

So it is a major surprise when she walks into the front office when yan is there being escorted in by a teacher or what not with looks like disheveled hair and when the person in the office questions her she admits she got into a fight. Everyone in the office is surprised because everyone knows she’s a good girl.

Yan can’t even believe it now wait till he finds out the reason we got into our first fight!

We got into a fight because of him actually. We were sitting minding our own business when these bitches started talking about him saying stuff like: “He’s so weird and shy, he’s fine as fuck though I would totally smash.” “I would let him fuck my throat is he weren’t such a loser.”

We hear that shit and trying to be as kind and put together as we can say: “Don’t talk about him like that.” They got offended and next thing we know we won a fight and are in the office with him.

note; this bad boy grew a whole ass storyline as i was writing it damn

Unlike a certain someone, she was better at hiding her feelings. However, when she heard her classmates speaking like that about him she couldn't help herself. When she was younger her dad got her to take up martial arts for a short while so she knew where to hit. It was easy really, to just hurt someone like that.

The assistant to the principal barely had their hand hovering over her back as she made her way into the office. The instant shocked looks she got wasn't something she really expected to happen but it is what it is.

"If you could just wait here for a moment miss, I'm sure this will all be figured out soon." The assistant said as they motioned her over to a chair, right next to him. He had been looking at her the whole time she was being escorted in, his eyes never leaving her figure. He seemed to be shocked, not even the thin line of blood dripping from his hairline seemed to interest him more than she did.

She sat down next to him, her legs crossed over each other as she fought the want to look at him. He had moved here not too long ago, an ex-private school kid. Rumours had already spread about him and from what she had seen him do they seemed to be true. He had been placed at this school because he was a delinquent that didn't fit the private scene. He beat up other kids and disrespected property.

He was the exact opposite of herself and yet that's what drew her to him. She was a fierce believer in opposites attract. Or maybe she just wanted a reason behind her casual infatuation. Being the best and the brightest got boring sometimes so maybe he was the perfect distraction?

It wasn't even as if her classmates were spewing lies about him either. He was rather cute, hot even. She wouldn't mind kissing him, or lying with him or maybe even letting her choke on his dick. It's just that she would prefer that only she be allowed the privilege.

No one seemed to understand him like she did.

"Why are you here?" Her head turned as he spoke up, his voice harsh and gruff. She blinked at him, behind his cold exterior she could see that small glint in his eye. That glint told her he was just as interested in her as she was in him. It was no secret that he was interested in her, rumours had spread about that as well.

That he would pummel anyone who talked down about her, using their blood as a reminder that she was untouchable even more than she already was. Sometimes she even thought the teachers encouraged it, so long as he wasn't breaking school property he could tail her as much as he liked. Act like her secret protector...

"There was just a little misunderstanding." She mumbled, he had been close to her many times before but she rarely had the chance to get close to him without him moving away from her, as if he was scared to even be seen next to her. She found it stupid... and selfish.

"Bullshit!" He yelled, his hand slamming down on the chair arm. The receptionist at the front desk flinched a little, keeping his head down.

"Who." Was all he said as he looked at her, his eyes ablaze. The intensity drifting off of him was stifling, overwhelming almost. She felt a small shiver run down her back.

"Just some girls, I dealt with it." She hummed nonchalantly as she shrugged her shoulder, ignoring the receptionist who looked like he was watching his own private teen drama.

He went to stand up only to be grabbed by her. He seemed to look down at his wrist in alarm, his cheeks lightly blushing before he managed to remain calm.

"I said I dealt with it, can't you be near me for a few moments?" She looked at him, her eyes shimmering in false tears. He seemed to sputter something before he sat back down, his eyes refusing to meet with hers.

"Why don't you want to be near me?" She hummed as she looked at him, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist. His skin was heating up like a furnace. He got like this from one little touch?

"I.... can't control myself." He mumbled as he looked down at his shoes, unwanting to show her his expression. She tutted as she let her eyes close.

"Then don't." That was all she said.

#love for anon #drabble #dom reader #sub male #sub yandere #yandere male #fem reader

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chickenparm · 6 months

Text

Never Have I Ever (Childe/afab!Reader) (1)

Silence settles, the stars spin in the sky, and the moonlight glints off the fire-water as Childe’s cheeks burn bright and he takes a quick pull from the bottle. Your mouth falls open, and you hurriedly push yourself to sit upright, the world shifting on its axis thanks to your inebriated vertigo. “You’re kidding.” “I took a drink, didn’t I?”

AO3 Link Next Part (TBP)

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Childe/afab!Reader (part 1 can be read as gn!Reader) 5,549 Words - NSFW (virgin!Childe, handjobs, blowjobs, first kiss, first.... everything, mentions of alcohol, mild somnophilia for about 45 seconds)

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If a friend will join you outside in the bitter cold to drink Fire-Water and chat together, you know they're the kind of person you want with you on the battlefield.

That’s the simplest explanation for how you ended up here, sprawled in the grass near some unknown lake at night, the stars of Liyue above you, a bottle clutched in your hand as you hold it out for the young man at your side. Your joints ache a bit after your last bout of sparring with him, and you’re certain he’s faring no better, but the fire-water being passed back and forth dulls it all down.

It’s not bitterly cold. In fact, it’s the time of year where Liyue’s nights are balmy, almost even a bit sticky with humidity. But Childe had pulled you aside before you left from your little mock fight, asking if you wanted to sit back and unwind with him for a bit before the two of you went your separate ways for however long.

And he’d looked so earnest, full of anticipation like he expected you to say no, that you couldn’t do anything but readily agree and follow him to wherever he carted you off to.

Childe gulps down a sip from the bottle, then lets out a quick sigh as if he were refreshed rather than cringing from the harsh drink. Carefully, he passes it back to you, and when you don’t take it right away with your sluggish movements, he pointedly takes your hand with his own and wraps your fingers around the neck of the bottle.

“Calling it quits already, huh?”

“Not used to drinking,” you answer, pressing a palm to one eye to stop the stars from spinning above your head. “I’m out of practice.”

“It’s not as if you forget how to have a drink. Maybe you’ve never had one at all,” Childe taunts you, pushing up on one elbow to look down at your serene expression, the gentle rocking of the world making you a bit sleepy. You know it’s an obvious bait to get you to try and defend yourself, but there’s little point in it.

But you do jab back, just a little. “I’ve had enough. You’re the one that’s probably lacking in life experiences.”

It’s weak, but you don’t miss the way his expression shuts down for a moment until he can figure out how he wants to respond to that. A nerve has been hit, and you slowly turn your head to look up at him fully, alert now that your attention has been drawn in. “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not,” Childe promises, and it’s an empty one. “I’ve had plenty of life experiences. More than you, I’m sure.”

“Oh, yeah?” Now you’re curious, unable to get a hold on your slippery, drunk impulses. “Alright, since you wanna be a kid about it, let’s be kids. Never have I ever. Sound familiar?”

“Are you going to make me sing nursery rhymes, too?” Childe settles a little deeper on that elbow, shoulder pressing up into his cheek until his right eye squints from the pudge. “Fine, since I’m so immature in your eyes. Loser takes a drink.”

A slow grin crawls across your face. You abandon the bottle, pushing it back to Childe as your hands lace across your stomach and you start off with a quick jab, intending to follow it up with something a little more hard-hitting. “Never have I ever had sex.”

“I took a drink, didn’t I?”

“You could’ve been thirsty. Never have I ever had sex,” you say it again, looking down at him as he whips his head to the side and takes another sip, avoiding your direct gaze. Just to make sure, you lean closer. “Never have I ever had sex-”

“Stop saying it, you’re cheating. I’m not drinking for that one.”

“I mean, unless you got laid in the last 5 seconds, you have to,” you point out, and he gives you a withering glare this time. No longer shying away from you, he takes another sip that’s even quicker, barely wetting his lips. “You’re really serious. Not even once?”

Childe doesn’t answer, but his knuckles are bleached white with the grip he has on the bottle, something unfamiliar on his face. You want to say it’s embarrassment, but you’re not even familiar with what that looks like on him. Childe is normally so unabashed and confident that up until now, you were convinced he didn’t even know how to be embarrassed.

It’s his turn now, but you disregard it in favor of pressing onward. “Never have I ever had a handjob.”

The liquid sloshes as he takes a drink, and all the air leaves your lungs in a disbelieving huff. No way is he that green, right? Childe travels the world, doing all sorts of unscrupulous things, and he’s still a virgin? Taking your turn again, you ask with sudden quietness, “Never have I ever been kissed.”

Childe’s throat bobs with another sip. Your lungs empty in astonishment. This cannot be allowed to continue.

“I’m going to kiss you. Right now, it’s about to happen, so put the bottle down.”

Before he can even contemplate doing what you asked, you’re already leaning forward to cradle the back of his head with your hand and press your lips to his own. It’s as you expected. Childe stiffens, unresponsive as his exhale trembles across your cheek. Despite this, you don’t pull away. There’s ample room for him to do so, but instead he just does… nothing.

Nothing at all. After that initial sigh, he doesn’t even breathe, doesn’t even move as you tilt your head a little to the right, slotting your mouth more neatly against his own in an attempt to coax him to do something. Push you away or try to reciprocate, you don’t mind which.

The longer it goes on, the more you start to second-guess that this was a bad idea. It just struck you as some kind of cosmic injustice that someone like Childe had gone unkissed for this long. Maybe it makes a little sense - he’s certainly busy enough to not mess around. But not even casually? Not once?

You find it hard to believe. But he did take the drink, and there’s no way he’d concede to defeat if there was any way he could fight his way back. Getting him to admit he’s a complete virgin must have been a crushing blow.

Just as your grip on his hair loosens and you’re ready to call it quits, his chin tilts up. The first tentative step to doing anything, and he opts to very carefully reciprocate. The first few movements are an obvious mimicry of your own, using what he’s immediately learned to try and keep up with you, even if you’re going painfully slow about it all.

Childe inhales deeply, breathes you in before the tiniest sound leaves from the bottom of his chest, the base of his lungs, into you like a quick hit of his own. Childe tastes like fire-water and something vaguely sweet, and you relish it as he nearly whimpers when you nip at his lower lip. Pulling back, you take in the state of him; flushed, eyes wide, lips parted in quiet awe. And it strokes your ego, just a little.

He must have enjoyed it, and you’re just glad you were able to give him a good one to start him off. Childe doesn’t say anything beyond a little mhm when you mention you’re going back into the city. It’s not as if you expected him to walk you there or anything like that, but it’s odd that he stares listlessly out toward the water as you get up and dust your clothing off.

It’s a shame you won’t see him for another week.

---

And that week comes and goes. You briefly leave Liyue to head to Mondstadt for a few errands, catching up with some of your oldest friends before wasting an entire day lounging about Dawn Winery. Armed with a bottle of Diluc’s finest vintage, you return to Liyue with little fanfare in the dark of the night.

You’ve missed your usual meetup with Childe by at least twelve hours. It’s not the first time, and you’ll just make up for it next week by letting him use his delusion, or beating the hell out of him until blood is running from his nose and staining his teeth and there’s a look in his eye that almost scares you.

As you lay in the dirt between two rows of grapes, staring up at the sky that seems more blue in Mondstadt, you wonder when it was that you started to notice little things like that about him.

You’ve always known he had a sort of battle-induced mania, but when were you able to perfectly imagine the giddy laughter that wheezes from him when you land a good hit to his diaphragm? When did you memorize the way his arms sprawl from his sides as he collapses back on the ground and concedes you’ve gotten the best of him? How long have you been able to calculate the precise milliseconds it takes for his pupils to dilate when he realizes he’s about to beat you?

Ugh, what a pain.

The lamps light your way as you make your way through the streets to the inn you’ve held your long-standing reservation at. Paid in advance, you find comfort in knowing that there’s always somewhere in Teyvat that you can call your own space, even for a little while. The key is at the bottom of your bag after having been gone for the past week, and you have to take a moment to fish it out in the darkness of the hallway.

The room is just as dark, and you make for the window immediately to open it and allow some of the moonlight in. The first beam of it through the cracked shutters lands across Childe who is laying sideways on your bed, legs over the end, hands laced together behind his head. He’d been waiting - and now he’s sleeping.

Eyes closed and breath coming in slow rises and falls, he doesn’t even stir as you approach silently and stand over him. His jacket is tossed to the side, crumpled near the pillows on your bed with the metal accessories snagging on the cases. Both feet are squarely on the floor, keeping his boots from dirtying your bedspread. Considerate of him, you note.

But there’s a reason he’s here, a reason he came to wait for you rather than accept an extra week of waiting. So you reach out and prod a finger into his stomach at the little window of skin near his belly button. It’s warm and firm; not entirely unexpected with the way he lives his life. Surely someone from Snezhnaya has to run a little hotter than most.

Childe stirs, nose scrunching in irritation at being bothered. It’s cute, you think, so you poke him again, letting your fingertip press a little more insistently into the smallest peek of his hip bone over his waistband and belt. Childe snores a bit in response, a quick little huff that gives you pause and makes your lips curl in a smile.

Still a pain, but he’s kinda cute. Really cute, actually. How embarrassing for you.

Giving up for now, you cross your arms and look down at him as he selfishly makes himself at home. At least if he were laying the other way, you could lay with him and try to get some sleep. For now, you make a sound of annoyance with your tongue and teeth before turning around to quietly unpack the few belongings you brought with you, and to safely place Childe’s wine on the table.

Very pointedly, you avoid thinking about how you brought back no other souvenirs for anyone else. Xiangling will be put out, and Zhongli will subtly try to guilt you before you mention his gifts are the meals you keep unwillingly treating him to. Yaoyao will be insufferably sweet and tell you that it’s A-Okay!

Having stalled for enough time, you turn back around to see if your movements did anything to wake him. Unfortunately not, you realize immediately, and he seems almost more comfortable than he’d been when you first approached. Comfortable enough to have unlaced his hands and thrown an arm over his face, the other arm tossed to the side to take up even more previous real estate.

The exasperation is almost distracting enough that you don’t notice the outline in his lap, laying across to the right with enough definition to be unmistakable. Your fingertips tingle with an unheeded urge, and you clench them into fists as you hear your own words knocking against every corner of your brain. Never have I ever had sex, never have I ever been kissed, never have I ever had a-

It’s wrong, already you know it and you haven’t even let the thought fully form. There’s no telling what he came here for. For all you know, he could have come by to tell you that he didn’t appreciate you kissing him like that, even if he had reciprocated. That doesn’t mean much, especially after having time to think on it, and you’ll profusely apologize if it comes to that.

But his cock grows harder, his stomach tensing a little as the softest huff leaves his lungs. What’s he dreaming of? Maybe it’s something mundane and this is just a normal reaction to nightly cycles. Or maybe he’s just that damn repressed that he dreams of an act he’s never partaken in before.

The floorboards creak under your knees as you lower to them, your hands curling around his thighs to steady yourself. You’ll just touch him a little through the fabric, make him feel nice in those dreams of his, then apologize a thousand times in the morning when he awakens and you confess immediately.

The firmness of his length seeps into the pads of your fingers as you run them from tip to base, gauging his length with bated breath. As you map out what you’re not allowing yourself to fully see, you fixate on the smallest damp spot on the fabric of his pants where his pre cum already soaks in. Enraptured, you run your thumb over it and push in until it spreads, enough to slick your finger.

The taste of him blooms on your taste buds as you press your thumb to your tongue. Closing your lips around the digit, you stare at the bulge in his pants and already feel your willpower crumbling. Just over the fabric, you try to remind yourself, but the buckle of his belt seems so easy to open.

But also, if this would be the first time someone puts their mouth on him, you want him to be awake for it. You want to see how his fingers grab the sheets to steady himself, his lip pulled between his teeth. If you’re going to do this for him, you want him to look you in the eye with all the desperation he can muster.

Just like he’s doing right now.

You freeze, saliva still pooling on your tongue from the salty taste that you’d stolen for yourself. The arm over his face had darkened things enough that you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes cracked open and his gaze trained on you with enraptured anticipation. He’s awake and he’s watching you, he’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. And so are you.

Childe cracks first, arm sliding over his eyes as if he wants to hide, his lip slipping from between his teeth as he whispers a quiet, “C’mon…”

More than once, he’s used that same little phrase to egg you on in a fight when you’re not giving it your all. To use it now, in this context, is like a blow to your psyche that you have trouble recovering from in any meaningful way. You brace yourself with your hands on his thighs, eyes staring up his body at his covered face. In the shadows you can see the darkness of his blush, his throat bobbing with a harsh swallow, the fingers on his hand flexing rhythmically.

Anticipation, desire, and no small amount of nervousness. You don’t blame him - it is his first time with this, after all.

So, you slow down a little. Rather than grab at him and yank his clothes off to sate your own desires, you nail it into your head that this is hardly for you. You’ll enjoy it deeply, but everything going forward needs to be framed with him in mind.

Especially if you want him to come back. Luring him to return to you to finish out what you’ve started by taking it all from him requires a bit of lavishing on your part. Something about the idea of being his first - his only - burrows into your every thought. How you’re the only one who has kissed him, tasted him, and hopefully will be the only one to feel him. It’s more enticing than any battle with him could hope to be.

Childe tenses when your fingers reach his belt, and stays that way until you’ve worked it free and unclasp the fastenings. There’s no point removing anything further than what you need, and as cute as his blush is, you really don’t want him distracted by his own nakedness. This will do just fine, you think as your labor pays off and you open his pants enough for his cock to spring free off its own tension.

The tip glistens with the smears of his own readiness, and even your inhales are tinged with the same saltiness that you’d tasted only moments ago. It takes more than a single swallow for you to fight back your saliva, and only when you’re prepared do you look up at him curiously and finally pressure him for a little more than being a passive participant.

“Wanna keep going?”

One blue eye looks at you, near-crazed as it’s complemented by the red of his cheeks and the dots of his freckles interspersed through the flush. “Don’t stop. Am I dreaming?”

Childe doesn’t want you to stop, then asks you a question that requires you to pause. A silly train of thought, but by the way his cock twitches suspiciously close to the timing of a heartbeat, you think there aren’t very many thoughts going on in there at all. “Do you dream about this sort of thing often enough for that to be a worry of yours?”

“You have no idea.” It’s said with a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Childe almost sounds wry - dejected even. Elation blooms in your stomach alongside arousal when you realize you might already have him on the ropes and you just never noticed. Did he ever pop one while fighting you? Next time you’ll pay better attention.

Slowly, first tucking the base against the webbing of your thumb, you wrap your fingers around him one by one. Avoiding the head for now, you simply give him a little squeeze and watch the way he’s already ruined from what amounts to hardly anything at all. The amused huff you make breezes against his cock, and you provide him one more squeeze, stroking up a bit at the same time until another pretty bead of his pre cum wells at his tip.

When your tongue drags against the slit, Childe’s hips buck up from the bed with startling speed, the hand he had flung to the side slapping palm-down on the mattress. Just as swift, your palm presses against his hip bone, grasping at it to push him down again while murmuring, “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

Childe’s voice shakes. Both eyes peek down at you now, and perhaps he thinks this is still a dream. Always so stalwart and confident, and all it took to reduce him to uneven footing was to tease the tip of his cock. With slow movements, you stroke your hand along him now, feeling with your palm how he instinctively tries to roll his hips up to meet each one.

Celestia themselves wouldn’t be able to drag you away from him right now. You’d be damned before you even entertained the thought of not seeing this through.

“I’m gonna use my mouth on you, is that alright?”

“Is that alright?” Childe’s head lifts, disbelief as plain on his face as the blush he’s relentlessly carrying. “You’re killing me. I’ve been thinking about this since we met and you’re asking if it’s alright?”

Well, you were trying to be considerate, but that’s out the window and replaced with the knowledge that Childe has been lusting - or maybe pining? - after you for months. Months. How many of those dreams has he had? Instead of asking about it, you shelf it for later and instead lean forward to firmly press his tip against your tongue once more.

Your lips wrap around him next, pouting around the ridge of his head to hold him there while your tongue swirls in lazy circles. Childe fills your mouth rather nicely as you take him further, pushing your tongue to the bottom with each bob of your head that works more and more past your lips. It takes all your effort to focus on making things feel good rather than the litany of sounds he’s making above you.

Childe doesn’t even muffle them. He doesn’t bother to cover his mouth, or keep his volume down as he moans your name, little pleas, prayers to a god he doesn’t specify but you suspect it’s the one he serves. Does worshipping him like this count as an offering to the Tsaritsa? His cock nudges the back of your throat as his voice cracks in a tortured groan, and you think you’d be just fine making this sort of pilgrimage more than once.

The weight of him drags against your tongue, slick with your saliva and his own copious excitement. It coats your lips, drips down your chin, dirties you in a way that only riles you further. And through it all he still hasn’t touched you, hasn’t crossed that boundary despite having your mouth on his cock. Not for lack of wanting; you see the way his fingers flex and the muscles of his forearms twitch and relax with each abandoned movement.

Blindly, you reach up with one hand for his own, instead of pulling it toward your head. Childe meets you halfway, letting you guide his hand toward your head in silent invitation. You want him to be a little more forceful, more active in taking his pleasure rather than just laying there and receiving it. But he doesn’t grab at you, doesn’t push or pull you to increase your pace.

Rather, Childe’s hand drifts down the side of your face, cupping your jaw and brushing his thumb over the bulge in your cheek from him filling your mouth. Childe pushes a little, feeling himself move inside, and a little expression of satisfaction moves across his face. And you get it now.

He’s not just laying there and taking it because he’s unsure, but because he wants to be lavished upon. Childe is enjoying having you do as you please. Probably as much as he’s enjoying feeling the goosebumps rising along your skin in the wake of his thumb’s movements.

Fine, you think. If he wants you to have all the control, then you’re just fine with that. For a moment longer, you bask in the slow tenderness before you close your eyes and push forward. Just as your throat instinctively gags around him, Childe makes a choked sound from above, and you treasure that single noise. It’s going to keep you company in your head for a long, long time.

The pace you set is steady, your focus narrowed in on how deep to take him before your reflexes protest. It’s surprising how easily he comes apart for you, hips straining up against your hand until you throw your forearm over his hips to keep him from getting too greedy. The hand on your jaw falls away, gripping his own thigh until his knuckles are white and you’re sure he’s giving himself bruises that you’d like to see later.

Every sound feels like a little victory, and you’re glad to keep winning and winning until he completely surrenders. His head snaps up, eyes looking down at you with wild eyes that say more than his stammering could ever hope to. You know he’s there, he’s about to finish, and you’re more than happy to spoil him by taking him to the base and letting that first pulse hit the back of your tongue.

And another, and another, each accompanied by a tortured sort of groan that he couldn’t hope to stifle even if he bothered to try. You’re so, so glad he doesn’t. If the knowledge that no one has done this to him before wasn’t enough of a reward, then those unfettered sounds would do just fine. But you have both, and you’re immensely satisfied as you let his cock fall from your mouth, wet and heavy and starting to soften.

On your knees, you stay there for just a little longer as his breath heaves with deep breaths, his eyes stare unseeing somewhere on the ceiling. The hair across his forehead has fallen back, leaving nothing for him to hide behind even if he wanted to. If he even tried, you’d force him back out. But he doesn’t, and you’re allowed to crawl up the bed to settle next to him, leaning your weight on one hand while the other reaches forward to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek in the same manner he’d done for you.

Words well up from your chest but none of them feel quite right. So, you say nothing at all, and just watch as his mind works to bring itself back together. It feels as if the entire night’s passed before his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he asks, “Still not a dream?”

“Not this time, no,” you tease, pinching his cheek a little. Wiping your mouth on your sleeve, just to be safe, you bend down and press a kiss to his cheek. “Tell me the next time you have one, though. I’m interested how it’ll go now that you’ve had the real thing.”

Childe’s short laugh is more surprised than anything, and he finally looks at you with clarity in his eyes and the remnants of his blush on his cheeks. “They haven’t been anywhere close to that. Not even a little.”

And maybe you’re a little proud of that. Self-satisfaction blooms in your chest as you gently pinch his jaw. “Good to hear. Go clean yourself up, then come to bed. Whatever you were waiting to talk to me about can wait a little longer ‘til morning.”

With a little groan, he gets up and wanders off to the bathroom without any further direction. You’re glad he doesn’t question your executive decision for him to stay here for the evening. It’d be a little embarrassing to explain that you want to know if he’s a cuddler or not.

When he returns, he’s far less dressed than when he left. His shirt, boots, and pants are abandoned, and he avoids your eyes as he slides into bed with you with little fanfare. It’s strange how you’ve begun to notice these little habits about him when he’s in a situation he’s unsure of. The quiet avoidance, the stalwart attempt to pretend nothing is amiss. It’s cute.

Childe is cute, and that thought isn’t as annoying as it had been during your lazy day at Dawn Winery.

When things fall silent and he’s laying stiff as a board by your side, you make another sweeping decision that this is not about to be an awkward night. You sucked his dick for gods’ sake, the least he can do is spoon you. So with a huff, you roll away from him and back yourself up until you’re pressed against him, then clear your throat a little.

Blessedly, he takes the hint.

Childe has grappled with you many times. None of them are in this context, but you’re surprisingly used to the feeling of his chest against your back as he slides an arm around your waist and molds himself to your form. With a little wiggle, you get comfortable, and his arm tightens around you. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Move so much?” Childe says it as a question, like he’s asking himself if that’s what he meant. Obviously not. “My dick is against your ass, you know what you’re doing. Don’t play with me.”

And for the first time tonight, you realize you’ve done something to him without purpose. Really, you had only been getting comfortable, making sure the two of you were nestled together nicely. Despite your gnawing hunger for wanting more from him tonight, you weren’t going to push for it. No, you wanted him to come back for it.

You want him to ask for more.

So, you quietly apologize and fall still, and the sigh against your shoulder is one of relief. Childe’s nose brushes along your skin for just a moment before he lets his head fall to the pillow the two of you are sharing. Less awkward now, you think. But he’s still pretty tense behind you, so you bring a hand to the arm around you and start to idly run your fingertips against his skin.

In little increments, he concedes his nerves.

“Actually, I don’t want to wait until morning,” Childe murmurs, so quietly you wonder if he’s practicing his words before he says them to you. But he doesn’t repeat them, so you just nod along and let him get things out. “I was going to say something when we met up today, but you weren’t there.”

It’s not said as a jab or out of hurt, it’s just a simple fact. The two of you hold odd schedules sometimes. Childe swallows audibly, coming to the point where he actually has to say what this is about. “Are we together now?”

Your teeth sink into your cheek as you inflict pain on yourself to keep from laughing in surprise. Maybe you should have waited on sucking him off. Surely that didn’t help his confusion on the matter. Only when you’re confident you can sound normal and not amused, you ask, “Because I kissed you?”

“Well, yeah. That was my original reasoning but then, y’know…” Childe trails off, then clears his throat a little. “If you don’t want to, then say so. I’m not the type to hold a grudge if you really only did all of this because you felt bad for me.”

“Now you think I kissed you and sucked your dick because I felt bad?” Now you sound amused, as much as you don’t want to. Really, this situation needs to be handled with a little more care. But Childe has never really liked being coddled anyway, so… “No, I didn’t do it ‘cause I pitied you. I did it because you’re cute, and I think it’s a shame you haven’t done any of this yet. And I find it kind of hot that I’ve gotten to be your first a few times now.”

Childe is silent for an eerily long time. At first you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, but his breath has picked up a little and you feel something twitch against your backside. No, definitely not asleep. Maybe even more awake than ever. There’s a slight tremor in his voice as he asks, “You think I’m cute?”

“Yeah, honestly I wished I’d kissed you sooner but I didn’t have a very good excuse.”

“You don’t need an excuse to kiss me,” Childe’s voice is all steadiness now, his arm wrapping tighter, your backside pressing against the unmistakable rigidity of his growing cock. “Could do it again. If you wanted, of course–”

“I will,” you promise, and his lungs expand against your back in excitement that you quickly temper back down. “In the morning. And then tomorrow evening you’re going to take me to dinner and we’ll have a nice date. Then we’ll go back to your place or mine, and we’ll play it by ear.”

Something brushes against the back of your shoulder through your shirt. You think it’s just him moving, getting comfortable, but then you can feel his words against your skin as he mumbles, “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“...Never have I ever been on a date?”

Even without seeing it, you can feel Childe’s sheepish smile as he doesn’t answer you.

#mind the a/n for content tags #tartaglia #childe #genshin impact #genshin #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #f!reader #afab!reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia/reader #childe/reader #reader-insert #nsft #mdni

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