#one of the worst things that could’ve happen to me recently

[loveinhawkins]

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

#on newly forming friendships and love ❤️ #eddie and robin #robin buckley fic #eddie munson fic #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and the party #steve and dustin #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and robin #eddie and robin fic

[winterchimez]

A Little Care | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: you have been awfully stressed out with work lately, and your boyfriend notices how it has affected you negatively, so he finally decides to give you some care for the night.

PAIRING: bf Sangyeon x f!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f!reader receiving), nipple play, cum tasting (f! reader), p in v sex, unprotected sex (pls do it safely irl folks)

WORD COUNT: 2,253

A/N: so i know i've said from the beginning how i would never write smut... well, something snapped and things happened so here we are 🤡 huge shoutout to my loves @sungbeam & @juyeonszn for proofreading this & reassuring me that it's okay ily both 😭🩵 this is my very first smut, so pls bear with me ><

update!! i've moved my nsfw works to @midnightfantasiez so do drop by and read my other works & say hi 🥰

The pouring rain that was hitting the train windows was making you ten times worse than you already were. 

It has been such a hectic few weeks for you at the office, but today was the worst of them all. Apparently, your director has been disregarding their employees' well-being and instead kept giving every single one of you more workload than you could’ve possibly endured. They have also made it clear that there will be no exception for losing the deadlines as they are now finally trying their awful best to fix up the company’s image before their subsidiary arrives in Seoul in the coming weeks for a visit. 

Hence, you have been working way overtime each day at the office, and by the time you have gotten home, it was already late enough to the point that most times, you would immediately crash onto your bed and skip dinner. 

Even spending less time with your boyfriend, Sangyeon.

You both have been in a relationship for two years and recently moved in together at the start of the year as Sangyeon managed to transfer to another branch much closer to where you lived. You were thrilled, to say the least, because that would save you plenty of time to take the one-hour bus ride to the city he used to work in back then. 

Ever since moving in with Sangyeon, he has been absolutely the best towards you. He noticed how your hours were much more tedious than he was, and he offered to cook dinner for most of the days while you were in charge of making the lunch boxes for you both since he would be home first than you most of the time. He was also already in his seventh year working for his company, so as one of the higher-ups, his timing was much more flexible, and he basically worked from home at least three times a week. 

Sangyeon has definitely noticed the change in you. Every time he brings it up, you have decided to turn him down instead, saying how you would rather not talk about it and move on to other much more pleasant topics that you both loved—music, films, and some random cafes that you both found on social media where you both would like to pay a visit on your next weekend date. 

And he respected your decision. Even during your weekly Sunday dates with one another, only a little about work would be mentioned, and you both would have the best days with one another, walking hand-in-hand through the streets while munching on your favourite bubble waffles topped off with ice cream. 

But it seemed as if something had snapped within you today. Your emotions were all over the place, and you just couldn’t wait to get back home and dive into his embrace. 

I just want some cuddles and comfort for the love of God.

“Hey, babe! Welcome home!” 

Sangyeon immediately popped his head out from the kitchen and peered through the door when he heard you unlocking the door open. He quickly approached you while turning the stove off and took your bags into his hands instead. 

“How’s my baby today?” He gave you the biggest smile that you have always loved. His radiant smile would always melt away all your negativity and make you feel much better. 

What he did not expect today was that you immediately dived into his embrace, with tears you have been desperately holding back for the entire day streaming down your face. 

He was pretty taken aback for sure, for the only time you would ever do this was when you two were both cuddling watching a sad film or when you finally got promoted at your job a year prior. Given your demeanour, he knew that something was wrong. 

“Baby… it’s ok. You know you can let it all out, right? You don’t have to hold them back no more.” He cooed while wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back to calm you down. 

“Sangyeon… I… Why is it just so hard to be happy with my work?” You sniffed, trying your best to talk through your tears. 

“I’ve joined the company because I admired their work ethic and environment. Why is it so different from what I have imagined? Why do fame and money bring out the ugliest in people? Why do they have zero empathy towards our employees who work so hard for them?” 

You were a crying mess, and you just couldn’t stop blabbing out the most profound thoughts you have had for several weeks. You were the type to bottle up your emotions, and you would instead take them to the grave and figure them out yourself. You knew it was your bad trait, which led to you not giving yourself enough time and care towards your physical and mental well-being. And the last thing you want to do is trouble your sweetheart, who has done so much for you. 

But tonight, you have decided that enough was enough, and you couldn’t care less if you finally showed your boyfriend your weakest moment because you just did not have the strength to keep it up anymore. 

When your breathing stabilised, Sangyeon finally cups your face to lift it and look straight into his eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through the shittiest management and deal with their nasty jobs. I may be unable to loosen your workload, but I can surely take care of you if that’s what you want.” 

“But you always take care of me, Sangyeon.” You sniffed.

“I know. But, maybe tonight I could give you some special treatment.” 

You giggled and wiped your tears away. “Okay, and what is this special treatment? Will you give me a spa day?”

It was there, and then you noticed how your boyfriend’s eyes had somewhat slightly darkened, and he was now eyeing both your lips and neck. He then gently drops your belongings onto one of the chairs nearby, and his hands now find their way to pull down the turtleneck top you were wearing.  

“Something much better than a spa day.” 

The next thing that happens, he crashes his lips onto yours, savouring them like there’s no tomorrow. This was different, much more different than what you were used to. Sure, you both have had plenty of kisses with one another, even having slow and sensual ones where you would have each other’s tongues in your mouth. But this was different. It seemed a lot more hasty and perhaps accompanied by lust. 

The soft and sweet Sangyeon you have been accustomed to was gone. Instead, he looked like a beast, thirsty and hungry, as if he had not been fed for a while. 

From the back of your mind, you knew you had to stop and question what turned him on. But with the way his tongue wrapped around yours and he was leaving no room for you to catch your breath, it was impossible for you to think straight at the moment. 

His hands now travel down to your hips, and he eventually forces you to jump and wrap your legs around him as he lays you on the countertop. That was when one of his hands slowly reached down, massaged one of your thighs, and eventually moved to your underwear. 

You gasped and were about to stop him, but he beat you to it. He rubbed your clit, all puffy and pink and sensitive, turning him on even more than before. 

“Baby, just trust me,” he cooed and proceeded to pick up his speed. At the same time, he breaks off the kiss and moves his lips down to your neck, sucking your bare skin. Your moans were getting out of control, each getting louder as his fingers worked their way around your tight opening. When you were finally relaxed enough to his liking, he inserted two fingers into you, earning a loud gasp as you tilted your head back. His fingers plunged in and out of you, his pace increasing. 

You couldn’t think straight. How could you? When your boyfriend is literally fingering you while sucking your neck at the same time. It felt so wrong, yet it felt so good at the moment. 

“S-sangyeon… please…”

“Tell me what you want baby.” 

“I... I want you… down there…” 

Immediately, he smirked and pulled his fingers out as he positioned himself right between your thighs. “I never knew you had this within you, baby. And I’m loving it a whole lot.” 

Sangyeon brings himself towards your clit, licking and kissing while inserting his fingers back into your hole. It did not take him long to insert his tongue into your opening. 

Dear God, you were in heaven. 

“M-more.. Sangyeon… don’t stop.. aaah–” 

As he quicked his pace, and so did your breathing and moans. It wasn’t for long when you finally came, and Sangyeon did his best trying to savour all of your juices. He then lifts his head back up to look at you while diving his lips back onto yours for you to savour the taste of your own cum.

“Baby, you taste so good. How about a round two?”

One thing led to another, and now you were lying naked on your bed. You have been with Sangyeon for two years and have never been naked in front of your boyfriend. And it was also your first time to see how glorious his body proportions were and how refined his muscles and abs were. 

He slowly climbs onto you and lays his hands on your bare skin. You shivered at the contact, you never knew your boyfriend would be so skilled with those glorious hands of his, touching and massaging every bit and corner of your body. He eventually finds their way to your breasts, which you have covered up by wrapping your arms around you. He slowly takes them apart to reveal your bare breasts to him.

“Why would you cover these up? You look so goddamn beautiful to me right now.” 

His lips dove to your right while his hands massaged your left. He circled around your hardened nipples while giving them a little suck every few rounds. You did not know how much your body would react to such a simple action of his, your toes curling and arching at the stimulation. It turned you on so much, and you dug your fingers into his soft brown hair to push him down to suck on them more. 

His free hand now travels back down onto your clit, rubbing it slowly once again to keep you nice and loose. 

“Baby... do you trust me?” 

That was when you opened your eyes and clearly noticed his big bulge poking throughout his boxers, eager to make its way into you. God, you were about to lose your virginity now for real. 

“I... I don’t know, Sangyeon. I’m scared.” 

“Don’t be. I’ll be gentle. And I made you a promise that I will take care of you.” he murmured while giving a gentle squeeze to your hips. 

With that, you slowly nodded before Sangyeon eventually pulled his boxers down, revealing his hardened cock. He slowly lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing your core to capture all your wetness. 

He peered up at you. “Babe. Are you ready?” 

Blinking, you had to take a moment to suck in a massive breath before nodding your head. In one swift movement, he pushes his member into your tight walls, earning a loud whimper from you. Your body quivered at the contact, and your boyfriend came down to you, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll give you a few moments to adjust. Hmm?” Even while you both were doing the deed, he was still considerate and ensured you felt comfortable and safe above anything else. 

As you tried calming your breathing down again, you finally gave him a nod, meaning he could proceed. He started slow, dragging his member in and out of your pussy for you to get used to it, all while showering you with plenty of kisses on your lips and around your face. 

When your whimpers slowly turn into soft moans, you let him know that he could pick up the pace. The pain that once bothered you was now long gone and was replaced with pleasure. Your fingers in his hair slid down to his bare back, and you couldn’t help but slightly dig your nails into his skin, which turned him on more. 

“S-sangyeon… faster…” you begged him; you were desperately trying to reach that high.

“Are you sure—you can handle it—baby?” He asked in between his groans. 

“Y-yes.. I want… more…” You replied weakly. 

Your wish was his command, and both of your moans now filled your room and the entire apartment. 

“I-I’m.. cumming.. Sangyeon..”

“Me too, babe—where—do you want me—”

“In..inside... please!” 

Immediately, after a few more thrusts, both of you came together. Sangyeon then leans down and buries his face in the crook of your neck, both of you trying your best to catch your breath. When you both finally came down on your high, your boyfriend broke off the silence. 

“So, did I somewhat manage to care for you today, princess?” 

You turned your head to lock your eyes with him before planting a soft peck on his lips. 

“You have done more than care for me, my prince.”

A/N: i will pretend that i did not write this at all goodbye—

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction

#deoboyznet #k-vanity #k-labels #kflixnet #k-films #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #lee sangyeon #lee sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon smut #sangyeon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon scenarios

[roses-r-rosie3]

Making The Bed

Tim Drake x M!Reader

[Spill Ur Guts Masterlist/Challenge]

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Breakup, Comfort

Summary: The Reader is the son of death stroke, and of course being his son meant that the reader had to train really hard, but he was never perfect. And he has also found himself in a relationship with Tim. So he pushes Tim away to train harder and make his father proud of him. That ends up leading to the reader and Tim having a massive argument, and they break up. But they meet again, with Batman confronting death stroke about something. It ends up in a fight with the reader and Tim fighting each other, but the reader overworked himself so hard to the point where he passes out mid-fight and Tim immediately stops to take care of him.

Quote: “I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were the youngest of all of Slade’s kids. Some might think that you were the most spoiled and loved because of this, but it was the opposite. You were not the best at combat, but you weren’t the worst. But your father made you see yourself as a disappointment because you weren’t as good as your other siblings were. He still made you his sidekick though, which confused you. But nonetheless you still tried your best to impress him.

One of the nights of helping your father with whatever he needed help with, Batman and red-robin showed up. You would have lied if you said that you didn’t blush a little underneath your mask. You couldn’t remember what happened that day, but you knew you caught feelings for him.

Tim would’ve been lying too if he said he didn’t catch feelings as soon as he saw you. He didn’t know what to do, so one day, when your father let you out on your own, you bumped into the vigilante and he immediately went after you. After a few minutes of him chasing you, he eventually pinned you to the wall and kissed you, and you two became a thing.

The two of you obviously couldn’t tell either of your dad’s about your relationship. Even with having to keep your relationship a secret, the both of you still remained together, you even revealed your secret identities to each other. And every time you “fought” you always pulled your punches and vice versa. Your father would quickly notice this though.

“What were you thinking y/n! You could’ve easily killed him right then and there! But you decided to let him go! You’re useless! God sometimes I even wonder why I even had you!” Slade shouted.

You had to stand there and nod, with tears swelling in your eyes. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You needed his approval. So from then on, whenever you fought with Tim, you would go all out, and Tim would notice it. So after that happened for about 7 more times, Tim texted you to meet him at a random roof top. You quickly snuck out of your house to meet him.

“Hey baby” Tim smiled as he tried to kiss you.

You didn’t let him though, which reminded Tim what he called you here for.

“Y/n, you’ve been acting different recently, is everything okay?” Tim spoke up.

“Yeah, I’m completely fine, why did you ask?” You said as you nipped at the side of your pants.

“No y/n, I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re lying, please, just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad” Tim said softly.

“Nothing’s wrong alright, I’m fine” you said again.

“Y/n stop! I know you’re lying because you keep picking at the side of your pants each time you lie! Just tell me the truth!” Tim said, raising his voice.

“Can you stop! I’m fine! If this is seriously all you called me for why even call me here to begin with!” You lashed out.

“Just tell me y/n! You’ve been more aggressive during our ‘fights’! Is it your dad making you do this?” Tim asked.

You wanted to tell Tim so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Can’t you just mind your business?! For the last time, I’m fine!” You shouted.

“Y/n please! If there’s anything wrong just tell me! I’m here for you” Tim said.

You couldn’t take this anymore so you just yelled at Tim with a mix of stress and fury.

“I’m done with this conversation! I’m done with you! I’m done with us! I’m done with our relationship! We’re over!” You screamed as you stormed back to your house.

Tim stood there in shock, still trying to process what you just said while you were waking further from him. Tim began to break down on the rooftop, wondering what caused you to lash out like that. Tim, after sobbing for what felt like hours, eventually went back to Wayne manor, and went straight to his room, ignoring his brothers, Bruce, and even Alfred.

When you got back to your room, you immediately realized what you just did and you started to cry. You lost the one person who loved you for you. You cried into your bed all night, you even considered texting Tim, but you couldn’t do it.

For the next few weeks you were training yourself, almost to death, you even passed out once, but luckily, Rose noticed and helped you up. Tim on the other hand, locked himself in his room, not letting anyone talk to him. And if he did, (which was only when he was when he needed to use the restroom or to go on patrol) he didn’t talk to anyone or give them the cold shoulder.

It had been 6 months since the breakup and you were in the training room when your father walked in.

“Y/n get ready, the bats is gonna meet us at a warehouse for a… meeting..” Slade said before he left the room.

As soon as you heard this, you knew it was your opportunity to impress your father. You just had to pray Tim wouldn’t show up. You practiced harder than usual, which caused you to be out of breath, and almost caused you to pass out again, but you couldn’t disappoint your father.

Meanwhile, Bruce knocked on Tim’s door, telling Tim that he had to have a discussion with Slade, and he needed all the help he could get if things went bad (which was bound to happen). Like you, Tim could only hope that you weren’t there, but the chances of that were very low.

When you and your father got ready, you headed to the warehouse, where Batman was already there, waiting, but he was alone. It rose suspicions from both you and your father, but who were you to complain? Tim on the other hand, he was waiting on the roof of the warehouse, looking at you through the glass ceiling.

“Hey, Tim. You okay? You’ve been acting depressed for the last six months now and you’ve been staring at the window for a while now” Dick said.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for Bruce’s signal” Tim reassured.

Soon enough Batman gave them the signal and they broke in through the window. As soon as you saw Tim, your eyes locked onto him, tears threatening to fall. Dick, Jason, and Bruce immediately went after Death stroke while Tim and Damian went after you.

You tried your best to fight them both off at once, you could tell that Tim was holding back, but Damian on the other hand, wasn’t. Soon enough you managed to beat Damian, which was a pretty impressive feat from you, considering how weak you were. Now all you had to do was beat Tim, but that was easier said than done.

You glared at Tim, and Tim glared at your mask, but before either of you could start to fight, you blacked out and collapsed to the ground, causing both Slade and Tim to look at you.

“Y/n!” Tim yelled out, getting everyone else’s attention.

Tim rushed over to check up on you, not caring that his family and your dad was watching. Tim quickly pulled your mask off to reveal your face. He missed looking at your face, he missed kissing it, he missed the feel of your face, he missed everything about you.

“Get away from my son!” Slade shouted as he pushed Tim away,

Although Slade acted like he didn’t care for you, on the inside, he cared about you a lot, that’s why he let you be his sidekick. Meanwhile, everyone was giving Tim a confused look, even Bruce.

“I can explain” Tim said.

“Yeah, that would be perfect right about now” Jason said.

“I’ve always had feelings for him, from the day that I saw him, and one day when I was chasing him down, it just happened” Tim explained.

“How long has this been going on for?” Bruce asked.

“It was going to be a year, and then he broke up with me, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months” Tim replied.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting differently” Dick said as everyone was putting the pieces together.

As everyone was talking, Slade appeared behind Tim.

“So, you’re the one my son was dating, I knew he was dating someone but I could never find out who. Why did he fall for someone like you? How do I know that you won’t break my son’s heart?” Slade said.

Slade sounded calm, something that far beyond normal for him. Tim was confused, but at least Slade wasn’t trying to cut his head off.

“Your son and I loved each other more than anything, he was always my number one priority, I can’t live without him, I love him so much” Tim responded.

“I trust you, but if you hurt my son, physically, or emotionally, I will make sure that you will beg for me to kill you” Slade threatened.

“And if your son hurts our brother, we’ll make sure to send his decapitated head back to you” Damian spoke up.

“Okay then” Slade said before picking up your unconscious body home.

“That’s not what I expected, I thought for sure he was gonna chop your head off” Jason shrugged.

———————————————————————

When you awoke from your unconscious state, you were in your bed, and your father was sitting next to you in your bed. Something felt off though.

“So, you and the boy wonder huh?” Slade asked.

WHAT?! HOW DID HE FIND OUT?!

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” you stuttered.

“I’ve known for a while that you were with someone y/n, I’m your father. The problem was, I never knew with who, until now” he spoke calmly.

“I’m so sorry dad, I didn’t mean t-”

“Don’t be sorry, I can’t control who you do and don’t fall in love with” Slade said.

“So you’re not mad?” You asked.

“No. But I have a question, something about his tone, felt off, tell me why” Slade said.

“I broke up with him, because I wanted to focus on training, to impress you” you confessed.

“Now I know why you fainted. I have one last question” Slade spoke.

“Do you really love him?”

“Yes, I love him more than anything, I want to get back with him, but I doubt he wants anything to do with me anymore” you sighed.

“Go”

“What?” You said confusingly

“Go tell him that you want to get back with him” Slade ordered.

“R-really?” You stuttered.

“It’s obvious that you two love each other a lot, and I am in no position to keep the two of you from each other” Slade said.

With that, you texted Tim to meet you at the same roof top you broke up with him on, and you ran.

When you got there, Tim was already there waiting for you, which caused you to slow down your walking. You both stared at each other for what felt like eternity.

“Tim… I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Tim ran up to you and kissed you. You were shocked at first, but you closed your eyes and gave in to the kiss. The kiss was sweet and passionate. You held him closer to you, you didn’t want to let go, you didn’t want to lose him, not again. When your lips finally departed you were already craving it again.

“I’m so sorry Tim I’m so sorry I lost my temper on you. I- I was just so stressed that I just snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to. I missed you so, so much. I missed you more than anything, please forgive me” you cried.

“I missed you too y/n, please, don’t ever leave me again” Tim sobbed as he hugged you.

“I won’t, I won’t ever leave you again” you sniffled as rested your head onto his.

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #mxm #gay #rosesrrosie3 #tim drake #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin x male reader #angst

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Triangulum - Chapter 3 - An Unwelcomed Guest

— — — — — — —

Bill’s head hurt.

A searing ache throbbed at the back of his skull while consciousness returned to him once again. No pain in recent memory compared to something like this; even getting his eye ripped out of its socket had been more of an inconvenience at worst. It took forever to regenerate those things!

The closest thing he could compare such intense pain to was his outright death, which sent a jolt of panic through his mind that only furthered his headache. He wasn’t dead again, was he—

“Why would I go through all this effort to bring you back, only to deceive you about what I have to offer?”

Oh. Right.

Any concerns were washed away in an instant as the feathery face of the shelduck drifted to the front of his mind. Not just their face, but the conversation the two of them had shared in the mindscape. The game they had wanted him to play, their contract, the destruction of the barrier as a prize—

—something was wrong.

Even with his eyelid still closed, Bill could physically feel a disconnect with his body. 

It was difficult to verbalize properly—his eye felt too distant from his limbs, and his usual shape felt noticeably altered. As if he’d slipped into a costume with lots of awkward parts, ones that stuck out in ways that forced him to be aware of their existence as he tried to descend down a narrow passageway.

Almost exactly how he’d felt whenever he possessed someone in the past. 

But the way the body suited itself around his existence, it didn’t feel like it would belong to a talking, anthropomorphic shelduck. Even with his eye closed, Bill could still feel a lack of any feathers pinpricking their way through his skin, or a beak protruding from his face—

“When did I ever say you were going to possess me in this game?”

…Ah.

Alright, even he couldn’t ignore a good loophole dodge when he saw it. Point to Tangy for their oh-so-clever little trick; he’d be sure to give them kudos for it later. 

Kudos in the form of soaking their tacky windbreaker in a gallon of rotten tuna fish for a month. Good luck getting the smell out after that one, Birdbrain!

“—what if he’s not even in there anymore?”

“Yeah, he could’ve jumped out after Wendy clunked him on the back of the head!”

“Are we even sure it’s him in the first place? Just sayin’, some random kid cackling maniacally in the middle of the woods isn’t the weirdest thing to happen around here.”

“Everyone just hold on a second, I’m trying to think—”

The sound of frantic, hushed voices stirred him further awake, and he fluttered his eyelid—no, wait, eyelids plural—open the tiniest amount to investigate. 

It didn’t seem like Birdbrain had taken any extreme measures with his vision; he still possessed a functioning eyeball. But rather than being set in the center of his face, his vision had taken a hard shift to the left and weakened to a noticeable degree. And while his vision hadn’t carried over to the right side of his face, he could feel another eyeball rotating around in its socket.

Almost as much as he could feel a set of teeth and tongue in a separate cavity much lower on his face—oh, eugh, he’d forgotten how bizarre it felt to have his face parts separated like this, and not even the fun kind of bizarre!—or a protruding nose right smack dab between his new pair of eyes.

Alright, so Birdbrain had gone humanoid for his vessel. Bit cliché, but nothing he wasn’t used to by this point. And if his mouth and eye placement weren’t enough to confirm this fact, peering open his eyelids further revealed his head to be slumped forwards, gaze fixed on a pair of black-panted human legs that were clearly attached to his body.

Yep, there was no denying that he’d been slapped back into a meatsuit mecha.

An even-riskier peek around him revealed he was currently tied up in some sort of bedroom. One clearly owned by the word’s most generic older woman of all time; creme-colored floral wallpaper decorated the walls, a shelf lined with creepy, porcelain dolls was situated near the door, and a comfortable old recliner had been set up near the fireplace—

—hang on, wasn’t this just the parlor room in the Shack?

“He’s awake!”

Shoot. Guess he’d made it a bit too obvious that he’d regained consciousness.

Bill’s head snapped up to full height at the sudden exclamation, only find himself on the receiving end of a number of different intimidation methods—all to various degrees of effectiveness.

Mabel’s weapon of choice was her beloved grappling hook. One of the better options of the bunch; metal was strong enough to shatter a fragile human skull if aimed at just the right spot and applied with just enough power and force. Terrible for his current vessel, but Bill could appreciate a healthy level of bloodlust.

Stan’s brass-knuckled fists were—admittedly—also an inspired choice, given how effective his fists had been in the past. A fact that Bill was happy to ignore and brush to the side as he shifted his attention over to—

—the random plank of wood in Dipper’s hands, one he was gripping tightly with all the intimidation of a mildly-inconvenienced kitten. Yeesh, had he even tried?

Of course, Pine Tree’s embarrassing incompetence was compensated in full by the gun in Ford’s hand, both the barrel and his own violent gaze locked onto Bill like his life depended on it.

Hmm, that was annoying.

And here Bill had hoped he could keep his return discreet for at least a short while before these suckers caught wind. Maybe strike some fear and uncertainty in their naive minds by staring ominously at them through their windows, only to vanish from sight when they came over to investigate. 

Were their minds playing tricks on them now that they were back in town? Were they simply paranoid as a result of what happened the year before? Or was there really someone watching them beyond the shadows of the trees? 

Maybe if his methods were effective enough, Ford would even start shooting at the woods in a blind panic. Heck, maybe one of the kids would even get caught in the crossfire!

Y’know, fun stuff like that.

But unfortunately for Bill, it seemed like he’d dropped right into the belly of the beast and Ford had gained the upper hand while he’d been unconscious. 

Any attempts to move his new human limbs revealed them to be restrained to the chair he was seated upon; arms tucked behind the back and bound at the wrists, torso tied in place—what, had there been a sale on rope or something? It was a miracle they’d left his legs alone—or maybe they’d just run out of rope by that point?

Nope, an abandoned piece near the far wall rendered that guess incorrect. Maybe they just hadn’t had enough time to restrain his legs, then?

Moving the focus back to his captors, Bill’s gaze bounced from person to person as he took a quick stock of their expressions. Unanimous hatred and fury trying so desperately to mask the uncertainty and fear behind their expressions. The clear desire to come across as intimidating, despite the trembling hands around their weapons.

So much fear, despite having the upper hand over him. Bill was tied to a chair and barely conscious, yet he could get a reaction like this outta them?

Good.

Because otherwise, he had no idea how he would be able to spin this situation to his advantage. With the element of surprise and mobility no longer an option for him, tapping into those fears and insecurities was the only weapon that Bill had left at his disposal.

Speaking of which—

The silence in the room stretched on as the Pines continued to stare at him, to the point where Bill was starting to grow bored. Sure, leaving them forever entrenched in uncertainty might be fun in theory, but that also required him to remain quiet for just as long.

And while that wasn’t an impossible order, Bill Cipher was not the kind of triangle to sit and behave quietly if he had any say in the matter.

He needed just the right comment to break the ice. A perfect reintroduction to his presence in their lives, one that would only strengthen that fear behind their eyes.

“I gotta ask, what didja think a gun was gonna do against me?” he asked with a grin at Ford. “I mean, do you really think regular old bullets are going to be enough to get the job done?”

His pupil flicked over to Dipper. “Guess it’s better than whatever Junior’s got going on over there, though,” he said. “Seriously, Pine Tree, a piece of wood? I guess you might have a chance at beating me in a game of interdimensional rock-paper-scissors, but outside of that, I don’t like your odds.”

Just for good measure, he punctuated everything with his loud, trademark cackle—one that shook the room and everyone in it.

Oh yeah, that’d do the trick nicely.

Sure enough, everyone’s grip on their weapons tensed, the fear in their faces now completely tangible as the worst scenario they could possibly imagine was confirmed.

“Bill.”

It was Ford who spoke first, tone marinaded in venom as he stared Bill down. Such vitriol sent another cackle throughout Bill, his body wiggling with delight against the bonds that held him to the chair. “Aww, it’s good to see you too, Sixer~!” he said sweetly. “What’s it been, about nine months now? Nice beard, by the way. Really brings your face together in a way that those sideburns didn’t, know what I mean?”

His amusement fell with a vindictiveness he made no attempt to mask. “Although if you ask me, I’d suggest taking up that old face-burning habit of yours to clear everything up and start fresh,” he said, narrowing his eye—eyes. “I mean, you’re clearly the expert in burning things around here. Facial hair, bridges, minds with me in them—”

“Stop talking.”

Bill was cut off by the cold, threatening steel of the gun barrel being pressed against his cheek, pupil flitting up to Ford’s own cold, threatening gaze. 

Oh, he was real mad. 

Of course, not even Ford’s ire was enough to silence Bill completely, and he managed a smug grin despite the distortion of his cheek against the weapon’s tip. “Again I ask: just a regular gun? No Quantum Destabilizer? No memory-erasing device or fancy-schmancy magical weapon from your precious journals? You’re really getting dull in your old age, Fordsy.” 

He tilted his head, half in thought and half to give himself some breathing room. “Although I have to wonder why you didn’t just try to kill me while I was knocked out, if you’re this trigger-happy?”

The answer to that one was pretty obvious. Given their initial reactions, they hadn’t been certain if he had actually been possessing someone—and they weren’t about to go and murder an innocent human on the off-chance they were wrong. And now that he was awake and his presence confirmed, they weren’t about to go and murder an innocent human while he was possessing them.

And if that was truly the case, it probably meant he was free to run his mouth as much as he wanted.

Probably. 

Maybe?

“Ooh, lemme guess: you wanted me to be awake before you pumped me full of lead?”

…Heck with it, he couldn’t resist the chance to press a few more of Ford’s buttons. To really test the waters on what he could get away with saying or doing. “Well, I’d love to see you take your best shot at it~!” he continued with a wide grin, one that show far too much of his gums. Guess that was one benefit to having a humanoid vessel again. “I know it’ll probably get a real laugh outta the poor sucker I’m puppeting around now—”

There was a click of the hammer as the tip was pressed further into his cheek, to the point where not even leaning away from it would pull Bill out of its line of fire.

Alright, limit reached for the time being. “Okay, okay, geez, I get the picture,” he said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Can I at least ask for a mirror or something? I wanna see what I’m working with over here.”

Okay, maybe one more. “I’d fetch one myself, but as you can see, I’m a bit tied up at the moment~!”

Ha. Hilarious.

Luckily for him, his clever little risk seemed to pay off in the unexpected way of making Ford lower his weapon, with an added bonus of painting a look of confusion across his face. And judging by the looks being exchanged between the other family members, it was clear that his little joke had been far more effective in causing confusion than he’d originally intended.

After a few more minutes of perplexed silence between them, it was Mabel who eventually—and hesitantly—spoke up with a: “You…don’t know what you look like?”

Hmm, an unexpected question to follow the unexpected responses. And a stupid one at that; did she really expect him to give her the honest, unfiltered truth when prompted?

If she did, the answer to that question would be a resounding “It’s funny how dumb you are, Shooting Star~!”, followed by a bout of condescending laughter to drive the point home. 

And the answer to her former question would probably be that same reply and condescending laughter. There was no chance across the entire multiverse that he would tell them about his little deal with Tangy. Birdbrain had said it themselves back in their mindscape: the second they found out that he was playing a game where the prize was the destruction of the barrier, the second Ford would do everything in his power to keep him restrained until the end of the game.

Or, well—more restrained than he was already.

Still, as good as his clever little joke had been, he had unintentionally dropped a small hint to them about his situation. 

Guess it was time to do what he did best; scramble their mushy little brains more than he’d done already and throw them completely off the right track. 

“I mean—it was all kind of a blur when I possessed the guy,” he said casually, leaning back in the chair as far as he could. “Didn’t exactly feel like stopping and sussing out all the details, not when the chance to stretch my legs again after spending nine months as a lawn ornament was right there in front of me—hey, come on—”

The barrel of the gun was at his cheek again as Ford gave him another warning look. “Don’t listen to a single word he says,” he said, directing the statement at the others. “We have no reason to believe that what he’s telling us is the truth, so don’t take any stock in anything he’s saying.”

Bill narrowed his eyes up at him. Spoilsport. Spoilsport and a hypocrite, to boot! “Oh, yeah, that’s rich, Sixer,” he said bitterly. “But I guess you would know what it’s like to give people a reason not to trust you, wouldn’t you?”

His functional pupil bounced over to Stan, the corners of his mouth twitching with the threat of a smile. “I’m just saying: the last time we saw each other, you were promising to finally give me that equation,” he said, with a look back to Ford. “But then when I ended up making the deal, it wasn’t your brain I ended up in, was it—OW!”

The tip of the gun was jammed so hard against his cheek that the skin would likely be bruised in the shape of a triangle later. “Stop talking—”

“Alright, that’s it.”

Before Ford could respond, Stan’s hand was back on his shoulder and gently goading him towards the door. “Ford, come on, let’s just—”

“Stan—”

“He’s tied up, Soos says the rope’s got the unicorn stuff woven into it,” Stan kept trying. “Let’s just step outside for a sec. Kids, why don’t you go with him? I’ll be with you in a few minutes, just—”

“We’re on it.”

Ford opened his mouth to protest further, but Mabel had already taken one of his hands in her own while Dipper claimed the other. “Come on, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel said, giving his hand an encouraging tug. “Let’s go wait in the hallway.”

“Yeah, why don’t you go ahead and leave, Sixer~?” Bill teased with a kick of his feet. “I’m sure I won’t go anywhere while you’re gone!”

A risky taunt, for sure. Ford had turned the gun on him enough times to prove that he was only a few more pokes away from throwing caution to the wind and sticking a bullet between his eyes, regardless of the consequences. Besides, the sooner Bill got the chance to be alone and collect his thoughts, the better. 

But at the same time, any opportunity to get under Ford’s skin was just too good to resist, nor did he have any desire to try resisting in the first place.

It seemed to be a lucky day for him in terms of taunt-rope balancing, because Ford pulled his hands from the kids’ embraces and trudged out of the room with calm, restrained steps. Steps clearly powered by every last ounce of self-control he could possibly muster, ones that suppressed a deep, brooding storm that swelled just beneath the surface.

Good. Seethe harder, Stanford.

Eventually the door shut behind him, leaving Stan and the kids—their own hands now void of any that possessed six fingers—behind. Although it was only a second later when the door cracked open again, and one six-fingered hand reentered their line of sight. 

A hand that Mabel immediately took hold of again before both her and Dipper hurried out into the hallway after him. Leaving only Bill, Stan, and a deafening silence left in the room.

A deafening silence that Bill was quick to break with a casual: “Gotta say, the beard look is waaaay more natural on you than it is on Sixer. Covers your ugly mug way better than his does.”

Apparently Ford had kept all of the restraint for himself because Stan was back to him before he could blink, and Bill had no time to brace himself as the older man grasped a rugged hand around his throat. “Listen to me, and listen good, Wise Guy,” he growled. “I don’t know how you got back here, and I don’t really care how.”

The hand around Bill’s neck tightened as he balled the other into a fist. “But I punched your lights out once, and I can do it again. As many times as it takes for you to stay down for good.”

He moved the first near Bill’s blinded eye, his good pupil following despite himself. “You try anything with my family again, you’re gonna know what it feels like to get punched to death twice. ¿Comprende?”

It was a threat Bill knew that Stan would hold himself to if necessary. One that Bill couldn’t help but feel a twinge of genuine fear towards as those final memories inside Stan’s head came rushing back to him. 

And for a split second, Bill could almost feel the terrifying heat of the flames around them, creeping nearer and nearer as they swallowed every last bit of the room in their destructive wake—

One fatal mistake…

—only for a brief moment, before he flashed Stan another toothy grin. “But seriously, you should keep that beard. Maybe try and convince Sixer to shave his, I don’t know who I was kidding when I told him it looked good—”

His grin spread wider, once again revealing far too much of the inside of his mouth. “But then again, you might have a little trouble convincing him. Considering your poor track record in fixing mistakes.”

Stan punched him. Hard.

And when Bill crumbled with a shout, pain enveloping the area around his right eye that was sure to be bruised within minutes, Stan turned and stormed out of the room.

Yep—flew too close to the sun with that one.

— — — — — — —

Ford had barely made it out of the room before the stress of the situation brought him to his knees, and Stan entered the hallway to the sight of almost everyone else circled around him in an attempt to bring comfort.

Seeing him, Soos lifted his head. “So, is it really him?”

“Sure looks, sounds, and acts like it,” Stan said, pressing a weary hand to his temple. “Alright, so the guy who tried to take over the universe and who we thought was dead is now tied up in the next room, very much the opposite of dead.”

He took a sweeping glance around at the rest of the group. “...Does anybody have a game plan?”

From beside Ford on the floor, Mabel perked up. “What about that zodiac prophecy thingy Grunkle Ford tried to do during Weirdmageddon?” she asked. “Didn’t he say that was supposed to stop Bill?”

“Hey, yeah!” Stan snapped his fingers with an inspired look. “Great idea, Pumpkin, we could try that!”

“But don’t we need all of the symbol-things for it to work?” Soos pointed out. “And out of the original ten, we only have, like—” He paused to count heads. “—six of the people here that we’d need.”

From the spot near the wall where Wendy had seated herself, she lifted her head to join in on the conversation. “Well, then why don’t we just get the other four?” she asked. “I doubt it’d be hard to convince Robbie, Pacifica or the others to help us out. They probably hate Bill as much as we do.”

“We could also try the Quantum Destabilizer,” Dipper added thoughtfully, pressing a hand to his chin. “Grunkle Ford said it could blast Bill back into the Nightmare Realm, but I wonder if that would actually work without a rift to—you know, blast him back through.”

“What do you think, Dr. Pines?” Melody asked, directing the question at Ford.

And suddenly all eyes were back on Ford again, who had yet to move from the spot where he had collapsed after leaving the bedroom—too enveloped in his own overwhelming, smothering thoughts to take any notice to the others’ suggestions.

Bill was alive.

A scenario he had only envisioned in the worst of the nightmares that plagued his head on a nightly basis. A fear that lingered over him like the shadow of a starving predator, waiting to strike its unsuspecting prey when they least expected.

He had wanted to hope so dearly that he’d been dreaming when that child between the birch trees began to laugh in that horrific, familiar way. The bone-chilling laughter that often echoed through the deepest recesses of his mindscape, nothing more than a mere shadow of the one who had once produced it.

But this was no dream, no nightmare, nor a bad memory he could simply banish to the back of his mind—

Bill was alive.

“Dr. Pines?”

“The Zodiac Prophecy is a no-go,” he said, his words forming on their own as he returned to his feet. “The entire town believes that Bill is dead, and letting too many people know that he’s returned could ignite a panic.” 

He cast a tense look around at everyone else. “One would argue that too many people know about his return already.”

“Hey, come on, I don’t think anyone here’s in a hurry to go blabbing about him,” Wendy pointed out. 

“Regardless, it’s not a liable option at the moment,” Ford continued. “And unfortunately, neither is the Quantum Destabilizer. The only power source stable enough to power the device was only obtainable in another dimension, with the assistance of another another dimension’s Fiddleford McGucket—”

“Oh, yeah, that’s gonna be tough to get, then,” Melody spoke up. “Fiddleford's out of town for a few weeks with his family.”

“We had to put our weekly anime club meetings on hiatus until he got back,” Soos added sadly. “But, that gives all of us plenty of time to catch up on our latest show and discuss our thoughts once he’s back!”

Ford raised his hands. “Wait, that’s not what I—”

“Well, what about when he does get back?” Wendy asked. “I mean—like I said before, I doubt he’d be in a hurry to go blabbing to anyone else. Plus he’s probably smart enough to build anything we’d need to get rid of Bill.”

“Wait, I—”

“Yeah, yeah, good point, Wendy!” Stan said, waggling a finger at her. “The guy turned this place into a giant, robotic, triangle-punching whatchamacallit. He could definitely build some fancy-schmancy power source—”

“You’re missing the point!”

Ford’s fist hit the wall before he could even process his action, and suddenly the hallway was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. His frustration lingered for only a second, before he took a look at the concerned expressions around him—

—and the guilt swiftly drowned any other emotions that had been building inside his chest. “Sorry, that was—sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Several pairs of shoulders unclenched as his arm fell back to his side, and Stan moved to him again. “Woah, woah, hey, come on, no one here’s about to judge you for swingin’ a fist,” he assured him. “Feel like outta anyone here, you deserve to do it the most.”

He flicked a thumb back at the bedroom door. “‘Sides, at least you held out as long as you could. I may have given the little jerk a—let’s call it a ‘welcome back gift’.” 

A pause. “I…I gave him a black eye, that’s the joke I was trying to make.”

“Non-refundable gift,” Wendy said with a proud nod. “Nice.”

“Stan’s got a point,” Dipper added from Ford’s side. “It’s Bill Cipher. I feel like if anyone deserves to be angry right now, it’s you.”

“Yeah, sorry for uh—sorry if we sounded like we weren’t taking this seriously,” Soos added. “I know how dangerous he is, and Wendy and I even told Melody everything about him ahead of time. Just in case something like this ever happened, of course. A big bad returning during a moment of peace is a common trope in sequels, after all.”

He rolled his hands together. “And since this is the summer after he died…you know, sequel summer? Just…just sayin’, it wasn’t outta the realm of possibilities.”

“I wasn’t sure how much of it was actually true,” Melody admitted. “But also I’ve seen way weirder stuff in this town. So if you all say that kid in there’s actually an evil triangle demon bent on destroying the universe, then I’d believe it.”

“There, you see?” Stan added. “Ain’t nobody here to judge. You be as angry as you want, punch another wall or two if you really gotta.”

“Although if it helps you swing at them less, clearly we’re all on the ball when it comes to thinking of ways to put Cipher back under the ground where he belongs,” Wendy pointed out. “Maybe the stuff we already suggested won’t work, but putting our heads together like this will probably get us somewhere a lot quicker than when you were just doing this by yourself, y’know?”

“Once again, Wendy knows what’s what,” Stan agreed, and gave her a thumbs up. “If I were still your boss, I’d give you a raise.”

“...No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He reached over to clasp a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Point we’re tryin’ to make is that you’ve got your family here for you this time. You don’t have to deal with this alone again.”

“Yeah, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel agreed, casting him a weak smile as she once again tucked a hand into his own. “We’ll do everything we can to help you kick Bill’s butt again!”

Ford’s gaze fell to her face, sweet eyes wide with concern and small hands once again gripping his own tightly. He could feel them trembling, clearly masking just as much fear as he was harboring inside him—

—the same way his had trembled as he pulled the trigger on the memory gun, wiping every little trace of what made his brother himself from his mind. 

He forced his gaze to the man at his right, eyes moving up to the face that mirrored his own to a near-identical degree.

The face of the man Ford had cried over for a week straight while he worked so tirelessly, so desperately to restore those lost memories. For whom he had dug out every last movie reel, scrapbook—even old postcards that Stan had sent during his travels across the country, and with whom he had spent several long night poring over the contents. 

The man whose confused expression shifted to bright realization as the kids read out the jokes from his favorite joke book, jokes he would follow up with every terrible punchline with perfect recollection. The man who suddenly remembered his and Ford’s brush with the Jersey Devil mid-story, only to go on and tell the back half as if the two of them had only experienced it yesterday.

The man who had risked sacrificing all those precious memories, all of who he was for the sake of the world’s safety. For the sake of his family’s safety.

And now Bill was back, leaving that precious sacrifice nothing more than a pointless suffering for Stanley to have endured.

“I’ll figure out a way to stop Bill by myself,” he said suddenly, pulling his hand out of Mabel’s before turning to the others. “Someone’s going to need to stay up and keep an eye on him tonight anyway. I’ll use that time to come up with a plan, and we can reconvene tomorrow.”

He reached for the doorknob. “As for the rest of you, it’s late and you should be getting to bed.”

Everyone exchanged a series of unsure looks, which Stan vocalized with a: “Do you really expect the rest of us to just sleep while you deal with some all-powerful demon all night?”

“Also, do you really expect us to sleep at all with someone like that in the house?” Wendy added. “I mean, I know he’s kinda—”

She made a shrinking motion with her fingers. “—now, but this is the same guy that crawls through people’s heads like a kid in a Hoo-Ha Owl’s playplace, right?”

Ford looked to her, then the other adults with a raised eyebrow. “You said the rope had unicorn hair weaved into it?”

“Well, yeah,” Soos confirmed. “Plus we set up those moonstones, got you that mercury you needed—”

“We have a whole stash of everything in the storage room, too,” Melody added. “If you need any more of anything.”

“Then it should be enough to hold Bill in place for the night,” Ford said matter-of-factly. “And if it’s not—well, I’ll be enough to hold him in place for the night.”

Before anyone could question him further, the bedroom door was opened and shut behind him. Leaving the rest of them out in the hallway, the shrill and barely-muffled greeting of “Welcome back, Fordsy~!” in the bedroom only adding to the unsure aura surrounding them.

Despite the door being closed, Soos held up a hand to the side of his mouth. “Uh, okay! Good night, Dr. Pines!” he called. “Also if you’ve gotta shoot him, please aim the bullets away from Abuelita’s porcelain doll collection!”

Mabel finally let her arm—the one that she had kept outstretched even after Ford let go of her hand—fall back to her side with a dejected sigh. A look that Dipper immediately spotted and moved to her side to comfort her. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” he said reassuringly. “Ford’s just worried about Bill, that’s all. And he probably just wants us to stay safe.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t need to go around makin’ himself unsafe to do that,” Stan said, pressing a hand to his head with an annoyed huff. “Is he out of his mind? What’s he thinking, dealing with all of this by himself?”

Everyone else exchanged a look. “Well, if he doesn’t want our help then…what should we do now?” Melody asked.

With a sigh, Wendy took a wide step away from the wall. “Guess we do what the doc said and try to get some sleep. Dibs on the couch as usual, by the way.”

With that, the shuffled on down the hallway, while the rest of the group silently watched her take her leave. Once she disappeared around the corner, Soos pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the hallway. “Uh, I dunno if it’ll help at all, but Melody and I sleep in the room next to Abuelita’s,” he said to Stan. “If you want, we can sleep in shifts and check in on Dr. Pines for you.”

“And if anything actually happens, one of us can come get you,” Melody added. “Leaving the other person down here to help him if he needs it.”

“Yeah!” Soos said, nodding in agreement. “If anything happens, we’ll come get you, okay?”

Stan hesitated to respond—as if the idea was anything but okay to him—but eventually he gave them a tired nod in return. “Alright, you two. Just keep an ear out for him.” 

He leaned over and placed a hand on Soos’s shoulder. “And—should I not get here quick enough to do it myself—I give you my blessing to punch the pointy little jerk in my place.”

With a look of honor, Soos pressed a hand to his forehead in a salute. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Pines! I’ll even knock out a few of his teeth if I’ve gotta!”

“Good man, Soos,” Stan said, giving his shoulder a pat. “Now get.”

With Stan’s approval, Soos gestured for Melody to follow him to their bedroom. “I’ll be the one to come get you if we need to, then,” she assured Stan as they walked. “That’ll leave Soos open for—well, that.”

And soon their bedroom door closed behind them, leaving nobody but the remaining Pines in the hallway. And with a gruff sigh and the realization that they were the only ones left, Stan turned to face the kids.

Despite the reassurances from everyone else—and even each other—they had shuffled close to one another with their attention firmly locked on to the door of Abuelita’s bedroom. As if they expected Bill to come bursting out of it at any second.

Yep, that was about what he expected.

Another sigh brought Stan to his knees, and he gave the two of them a weak smile. “Well, you two knuckleheads heard everyone. Let’s head upstairs.”

The two exchanged an uncertain look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah,” Mabel added. “I mean…it’s Bill.”

“If Ford’s so insistent on dealing with this by himself, then he’s probably got a couple of tricks up his sleeve to solve it by himself,” Stan pointed out, and reached over to lightly bap the top of Dipper’s hat. “It’s like you said, he probably just wants us to stay safe. And if he does need our help, then—well, he knows where to find us...”

Even he couldn’t bring himself to try and sound convincing by the end of his reassurances, but he gave both of them a nudge to move forwards before returning to full height. “In the meantime, let’s not give that demon the satisfaction of knowing he’s freaking all of us out and go get some rest, okay?”

After another look to each other, the younger twins eventually let themselves be lead down the hallway. Despite this, Stan counted at least three times where one of them would pause to look back towards the bedroom door, before they finally rounded the hallway corner and the room was barred from their line of sight.

The interior of the Mystery Shack had fallen silent by that point, save for the faint creaking of the wooden floor beneath their steps as they headed for and—after grabbing the bags they had dropped upon arrival—up the staircases that eventually brought them to the topmost floor of the shack.

Mere hours ago, the sight of the old attic would’ve been a nostalgic welcome back, like greeting an old friend after spending so long apart. And approaching the room at the far end would’ve been the equivalent of bringing that old friend into a warm hug.

Warm, friendly, welcoming—

But the air around the trio just felt so miserable as they slowed to a gradual stop outside the bedroom door, and Stan reached a hand to the doorknob. Rather than turn it immediately, he instead chose to direct his attention back at the kids. 

Silent attention—as if he wanted to say something, but struggled to find the proper words.

After a few, long seconds, he spoke with an uneasy: “Hey, uh, if you kids need to—you know…” The hand on the doorknob moved to the back of his head. “You gonna be alright by yourselves up here? You know you can always join Wendy in the living room, or come bunk down with me if you really need to, or something—”

The younger twins looked to each other in silent consideration, until Dipper finally spoke up: “I…think we’ll be okay,” he said, although his shaky tone implied otherwise. “If we’re really that scared, we can always sleep in shifts.”

“Yeah,” Mabel added with a bit more optimism. “And—and we’ll lock our door and window—”

An oink at the staircase drew a pointed finger from her, aimed at the pig who had ambled up the stairs after them. “—and we also have Waddles as an attack hog if we really need him! We’ll be okay!”

Her shoulders fell. “Right?”

Dipper folded his arms with a feeble nod, hands tightly gripping the sides as if he were attempting to keep himself grounded with such an action. “Yeah, we’ll…we’ll be okay.”

Stan didn’t miss this, and knelt down in front of them. “Hey, you two listen to me, alright?” he said, moving a hand to each of their shoulders. “I may not know how the little demon got back or why he’s back at all.”

The hands moved to ruffle their heads. “But what I do know is that I ain’t gonna let him lay a hand on either of you or Ford,” he reassured them. “And I don’t care how long it takes or how many times we gotta kill him before he stays dead. We’ll squash him for good if it’s the last thing we do—”

He was suddenly cut off by Mabel flinging herself at him in a tight hug, with Dipper quickly following suit. Stan remained still for a few seconds, before he wrapped an arm around each of them to complete the hug. “Alright…we’re gonna be okay, okay?”

He forced a smile as the two of them broke the hug. “And hey, look on the bright side,” he continued. “With the puny size he is now, we could probably just step on the little jerk and actually squash him to death!”

Sure enough, his weak attempt to lighten the mood brought a small pair of smiles to their faces. “We could get a pair of really big shoes,” Mabel added, smile widening further as she made a stomping motion with her foot. “Just go squish, like he’s a gross cockroach under a boot!”

“Are you implying that he’s not a gross cockroach already?” Dipper asked with a weak laugh.

“Touché, but I like painting a clear, visual picture of my words,” Mabel explained. “It’s almost as fun as painting an actual picture! Ooh, I wonder if I should paint an actual picture of Bill with a cockroach body—?”

“Save that for tomorrow,” Stan said. “Right now, you two need to get some rest. You’ve got a whole summer to look forward to, and I ain’t gonna let you kids miss a second of it.”

He gave them a wink. “Even with a sudden triangle-shaped cockroach thrown into the mix.”

Both gave him a smile—much wider than before—in return before finally shuffling to the door and pulled it open, revealing the waiting bedroom on the other side.

Aside from a lack of almost any dust on the furniture—had that been Soos and Melody’s doing?—the bedroom had remained mostly untouched since the previous summer. A few scattered googly eyes rested on the floor beside a forgotten food bowl for Waddles on Mabel’s side of the room, while several crumpled pieces of paper still filled Dipper’s old wastebasket.

And while uncertainty and fear still lingered in the air as the kids stepped inside, a bit of that old, nostalgic warmth did seem to be sneaking its way around them in a reassuring embrace. A reassurance that despite the evening’s stress, this was still a place they could call a home away from home.

After one last little smile at Stan—one he returned in full—Mabel shut the door behind them. Stan continued to wordlessly stare at the door for a few minutes, attention focused on the clicking of the lock, then the creaking of the wooden floor on the other side.

When he was sure the sound had reached their beds, he finally turned and shuffled back towards—then down—the staircase, continuing onwards down the hall on the second floor until he reached the door to his own bedroom.

It was only once his hand touched the doorknob that his entire posture sank from exhaustion.

His hand once again lingered for a moment as he looked back towards the staircase that lead downstairs—before he shook his head and trudged on forward into the bedroom.

— — — — — — — — 

It was barely an hour later when Stan firmly concluded that he was not falling asleep anytime soon.

How in the heck was he supposed to sleep at a time like this? Bill was back! The evil triangle demon that had tried to take over the town—town? Universe?—and had haunted his brother’s mind for literal decades!

Ford had always downplayed how much weight Bill truly held over his mind, always reassuring Stan that he was fine whenever the topic came up in conversation and was always quick to change the subject to something unrelated. 

But if Ford really thought the guy who slept in the same cabin as him for months on end wouldn’t notice him crying out in his sleep—the names Bill, Cipher or both being shouted into his pillow with so much hatred and fear more times than Stan could count—then Stan had a bridge to sell him.

And if he really thought that he hadn’t picked up on the subtle little ways Ford would flinch or the way his mood would shift on occasion—probably due to some unearthed memories about Bill, ones that Stan so desperately wished he could just punch as hard as the guy who had burned them into his brother’s mind—then Stan had two bridges to sell him.

“But then again, you might have a little trouble convincing him. Considering your poor track record in fixing mistakes.”

With a grunt, Stan rolled over onto his back and squinted blindly at the ceiling. He didn’t trust the pointy little jerk as far as he could throw him but he’d raised a good point. What right did he have to stand—lie around and call Ford an idiot for not wanting to talk about Bill, especially when he’d been the one in charge of getting rid of Bill in the first place?

He felt his thoughts drift to the earlier events of the day, before all the Bill stuff had started. Soos’s wedding announcement, the tour of the new exhibits—

“The very weird point they’re to make is that none of this would’ve happened without you building the shack to begin with, Grunkle Ford. So in a way, a lot of this is because of you!”

“Well, we kinda have you to thank for the idea, Dr. Pines. You and the kids, of course.”

It didn’t bother him. 

Really, it didn’t.

So what if Soos wanted to give Ford the credit for tying the knot with the girl he liked, or for giving them the smart-guy science methods to make the exhibits more exciting? Even if Ford was terrible at hiding his Bill feelings, at the very least he’d seemed pretty flattered by all the praise. 

He’d felt appreciated, nostalgic over the new, science-y ways that Soos and Melody were bringing in customers. The kids were excited to be spending time with him this year.

Ford felt like he belonged.

What kind of jerk would Stan be to take that happiness away from him, especially after all the years that had been taken from him already?

At at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if people slapped Ford’s name over every single one of his own accomplishments. Honestly, after stealing his identity for three decades, Stan would willingly give up a few of his own accord if it made Ford happy.

If Soos wanted to give Ford credit for building the place that inevitably lead him to his fiancé—even if Stan had been the one running the place when Soos started working here—then fine. If him and the kids wanted to give Ford credit for the exhibit ideas—exhibits that were wildly improved from the two-bit slop Stan had been pushing for the past few decades—then fine.

It was fine.

But if there was one accomplishment that Stan thought nobody could take away from him, it was the ability to keep his family safe. Not just them, but Soos, Wendy—the entire town. They had all called him a hero, finally saw him as someone worth a darn—

At the end of the day, he had finally proven he was worth something to someone.

And then Bill came back, alive and unharmed. Stan had failed to kill him good and proper, and now he was back.

Now he was back, and now Ford and the kids had to spend their summer in fear.

Now he was back, and Stan was truly worthless again.

After staring at the ceiling for about ten more minutes—and waiting another ten minutes for his nightly body aches to settle—he fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed. And with the groan of a man whose bones were older than he was, he pulled himself to his feet, trudged out of the room and headed down to the first floor of the shack. 

The light of the TV stopped him at the living room doorway, and a quick peek into the room revealed that he wasn’t the only resident of the house who was still awake.

Despite the TV running some early morning infomercial for a cheap and useless product—one worth more than its share of that hyper-specific brand of scorn and mockery that only a snarky teenager could provide—Wendy’s attention was firmly glued to her phone as she tapped away at the keys.

At the sight of Stan in the doorway, however, she lifted her head with a curious look. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Whaddaya mean? Clearly I’m sleepwalkin’.”

“Haha,” she said, snapping her phone shut. “Gonna try again with Dr. Pines?”

“You know it,” Stan said, and placed a hand on the doorway frame. “You, uh—you holdin’ up okay out here?”

“Psh, don’t even start,” Wendy said, waving him away. “I mean, sure, I’ve got my share of worries about that little megalomaniac being back—”

She flashed him a grin. “—buuuut I think a lot of ‘em were pretty evened out by the fact that I got to clunk him in the back of the head with a bat!”

“Oh yeah, that was great,” Stan agreed with a smirk of his own, before pressing his hands together in a squishing motion. “Isn’t it soooo satisfying? The little jerk talks suuuuuuch a big game, but you hit him once and he crunches like a soda can.”

Wendy cackled at that, although her expression fell again as she cast a glance upwards. “How’re the squirts handling it?”

Stan followed her gaze up to the ceiling. “Well, they’ve stayed in their room so far, so my money’s on ‘probably as well as they can with somethin’ like this.’”

“Mmm…”

She flipped her phone back open, fingers once again tapping at the keys. “At least they’ve got each other through all this,” she mused. “The two of them combined are some of the toughest and strongest kids I’ve ever met. No matter what happens, they’ll get through it so long as they stick together.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed, with a glance back towards the hallway. “At least they’ve got that goin’ for them…”

Both fell silent for a moment, before Stan turned to leave. “If you hear any yellin’ going on down the hall, it’s because I’m trying to convince Ford to go to bed,” he told her. “If I succeed, make sure he actually goes up to bed, okay?”

“You got it, boss.”

— — — — — — — —

The room was silent, save for the scratching of pencil to paper as Ford continued to write. 

Not for a lack of trying on Bill’s part; he had made several attempts to strike up a conversation with Ford already, but all had been shot down by either a menacing glare or the flash of the gun he kept within reaching distance.

And while neither were enough to completely shut Bill up, he did fall silent after the dozenth-or-so attempt to take advantage of the chance to gather his thoughts.

He’d agreed to play a game with that stupid duck and they’d plunked him back down in front of the shack. He assumed it had been right in front of the shack, at least; he did recall being greeted by the concerned faces of Mabel and Ford, along with some faint, blurry remarks about how he’d potentially fallen out of a tree—

—thank you, Birdbrain—

—but there was always a chance that they had stumbled across his body somewhere else and simply brought him to the shack to keep a closer eye on him. 

Regardless of how it had happened or wherever those suckers had originally found him, he was back in town as Tangy had promised. Sure, it had been a sneaky drop off with several details of what that drop off entailed omitted. But at the same time, they had still kept their word.

And while Bill still had plans to dunk that silly little windbreaker of theirs in tuna fish—perhaps with the added flair of tossing in a bottle of itching powder, Melt-Your-Skin-Clean-Off-Your-Bones-Juice, and maybe a splash of lime for taste—he could at least respect how much effort they had put into getting him here at all.

Planned retribution aside…eh, game could recognize game.

And speaking of game—

His thoughts shifted to the deal they had agreed upon, sealed with both a handshake and a signature. Three months, they’d said. He had exactly three months to play. Three months to find all the pieces of their dumb trinket and put it all back together again, Humpty-Dumpty style.

He briefly considered the idea of not playing their game at all—out of sheer spite for their deviousness in getting him here—but the idea was discarded as quickly as it formed. Despite their underhanded methods to get him back to town, they had been very clear about how strictly they had to stick to their contract. And even if they’d been lying about the legitimacy of said contract, they had still foolishly locked themselves into a deal with Bill himself.

Whether or not they truly planned on upholding themselves to their side of their deal didn’t matter—if he won their little game, Bill would either have a destroyed barrier or a duck subjected to an eternity of slow-roasting over an over fire in the Nightmare Realm. Maybe in the case of the second option, such torture directed at another being would be enough to get his buddies off his back when he returned.

Heck, maybe he’d even get a spiffy new jacket out of the deal!

And that was simply the worst case scenario. Best case scenario, the barrier would be gone and no one would be able to stand in his way ever again.

And a prize that valuable was enough for him to humor the tacky idiot and romp around an annoyingly-familiar hick town in a meatsuit for a summer.

Even with his current situation, escaping wouldn’t be a difficult task to accomplish. Sure, he was tied so tightly to a chair that it would make Harry Houdini blush—he would know, he dabbled in a bit of dealmaking with the famous magician back during the height of his career—and the ropes apparently contained some of that fancy-schmancy unicorn magic that the household had used to protect the shack last year.

A fact that soured Bill’s expression for a brief moment, but at the end of the day, even a magically-laced rope was still just a rope. And any rope could be cut with the right tool, or by the right sucker.

The sound of paper being ripped from a notebook distracted Bill from his thoughts, and a mischievous grin poked at the corners of his mouth as he cast a look in the direction of his six-fingered warden—just as the discarded page was crumpled into a ball and tossed it into the unlit fireplace.

Well, a sucker by any other year was just as gullible—or whatever.

Sure, Bill knew Stanford Pines would rather chew off his own extra fingers than be unpromptedly helpful to him in any way, shape or form. But even if a few details about the bigger picture had to be omitted—it wouldn’t be the first time when it came to Stanford—there were always ways for Bill to get people to do what he wanted.

The scratching of pencil to paper began again, and Bill lightly tugged against the binds that held his wrists. Well, while there were always ways to get people to do what he wanted, even he knew it was highly unlikely that he’d manage to trick Ford into freeing him tonight. And the near-silence of the room was starting to become agonizingly dull. 

To reiterate an earlier point, Bill Cipher was not the kind of triangle to sit and behave quietly if he had any say in the matter. Even if Ford was attempting to keep a lid on things now, there was always a way to annoy him into tossing out a few bits and pieces of information he had gathered in Bill’s absence. Perhaps some of that information would be of use to him.

Or maybe he would only succeed in getting the gun shoved in his cheek again.

Either way, the fifteenth attempt at starting a conversation was always the charm~!

“You know,” he began with a light kick of his feet. “I’m surprised you haven’t bombarded me with questions about how I got back yet.”

He saw Ford’s hand twitch in the direction of the gun, keeping his attention still firmly focused on his writing. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to, Fordsy!” Bill continued. “You and I both know for a fact that you’re a man beckoned by the call of the strange and bizarre.”

He winked at him with his good eye. “And let’s not kid ourselves; I’m the strangest and bizarre-est guy you know~!”

Another kick of his feet, his feet lightly bouncing against the chair legs. “Even if I no longer have access to your mind, I can tell you’ve got a billion questions about me buzzing around in that lump of wet meat you call a brain,” he continued. “Questions like ‘How did he get back?’ ‘Why is he human now?’ ‘Why, oh, why did I think that a simple memory gun would be enough to defeat someone as powerful, as amazing, as unstoppable as Bill Cipher?’”

Ford’s hand inched closer to the gun as Bill kept talking: “You must’ve felt so proud of yourself for that memory gun trick, by the way,” he went on. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, it was a smart move that only a brainiac like you could’ve drummed up in the short time you had.”

A wink. “Well, lucky for you I’m not the kinda triangle to hold a grudge,” he continued. “In fact, I’d even be willing to answer a couple of those hypothetical questions for you! And to call us even, you can always just answer a couple of mine in return. Like what you’ve been up to in the past nine months~! Come on, I’ll bet you’re just dying to tell me all about how you grew that beard of yours!”

The hand wrapped around the grip, and Bill settled lower in the chair with a sigh. “Fine, I guess it was too much to hope for a chance to catch up with an old friend,” he said with a dramatic flair to his tone—

—one that immediately shifted into something far more malevolent. “But then again, I guess I wouldn’t find any of those around here, now would I?”

Bill paused, giving Ford him a few seconds to chime in—only to roll his eyes when he heard a click from the gun as Ford turned off the safety catch: “Oh, come on, Stanford, are you really telling me that you’d rather spend the entire night alone with your thoughts than to spend five minutes holding a conversation with me?”

“Yes.”

It was the first word, sans any threats, he’d managed to get out of Ford all night, and it was annoying enough for Bill to sink further against his restraints with a huff.

Not a defeated huff; if a stubborn, old fool not giving him what he wanted was enough to stop Bill Cipher, then he wouldn’t be Bill Cipher. If he’d possessed enough patience to wait eons for a functioning portal, then he could certainly possess enough to get a few words outta Ford over the course of a single evening.

And as soon as Ford stopped being so difficult—you couldn’t avoid talking all night, Sixer—he'd be in business.

The distant sound of floorboards creaking somewhere on the other side of the shack perked Bill up again with a look towards the ceiling. Guess the rest of the household was fighting back the urge to sleep with a stick.

The sudden lack of pencil to paper also caught his attention, gaze bouncing back to where Ford was seated. He hadn’t moved, but Bill could still see the pupils of his sunken-in eyes shift towards the door with mild curiosity.

Mild curiosity that vanished the second he realized Bill was watching him, and his focus immediately returning to his notes after clicking the safety back and leaving the gun where it rested.

Hmm.

“Fine, you don’t wanna talk about what you’ve been up to for the past few months?” he tried again. “Fair enough, I really didn’t wanna hear about it. Why don’t we talk about about something else, then? Like the kids, perhaps?”

The hand was back at the gun without pause. 

“They’re looking well, older even. Or do they?—I’m still fuzzy on the details of the aging process of you mortals,” Bill continued. “Or if you don’t wanna talk about them, we could always talk about your brother. Can’t believe he’s still wildly swinging those fists around like a wild animal, especially when that didn’t even work the first time—”

The gun was ignored completely as Ford crossed the room in an instant, the vitriol behind his eyes hot enough to burn straight through Bill’s skin, blood, skull—his everything, until it bore a hole right through to the other side of his head.

A motion that made Bill jump against his better judgment—his blackened eye instinctively twitching as he remembered Stan’s earlier show of force—and for a fleeting moment, he expected another hand around his throat in seconds.

Before Ford could react proper, however, a loud knock pulled both of their attention to the bedroom door. After a silent breath of relief, Bill shot Ford a cheeky grin. “Sounds like you’ve got company~! Unless they’re here to see me, which—I mean, who could blame them if they were?”

Ford glared at him before turning back to the door. “Who is it?”

“Jersey Devil. Who d’you think it is?”

“...Come on in.”

The knob turned and Stan slowly entered the room, casting a silent look between the two of them before settling his gaze on Ford. “Just checkin’ in. How’s, uh—” he began, then paused. “—how’s everything going?”

He was clearly talking to Ford, and making an obvious effort to ignore the triangle-shaped elephant in the room. So naturally, Bill had to do everything in his power to make his presence as loud and obvious as possible.

“Everything’s peachy~!” he piped up, with another wiggle against his binds. “Ol’ Fordsy and I are having the time of our lives catching up on things! In fact, I think he was just about to tell me about what the kids have been up to for the past few months?”

He flashed Ford a wide grin. “Come on, Ford, I’ll bet they’ve shared a ton of stories with you~!”

Stan pointed a finger at him. “Hey, you’d better watch that mouth of yours, before I come over there and make it match your eyeball.”

“What, you’re gonna punch it?” Bill asked. “Go right ahead, I was just lamenting the fact that my mouth and eyeball are separated in this body.”

He giggled mischievously and flashed him a wide grin. “Your fist’s about the size of a mouth-sized eyeball, right? Just asking, because the second you swing it at these puppies—” He gave a warning snap of his teeth. “—I can’t promise that you’ll get it back.”

“Everything’s fine, Stanley. Go get some sleep.”

Ford’s tone was so scripted and hollow, like the words he actually wanted to say were being held back by a metric ton of steel. More than just the physical steel plate installed in his head, a whole dam of metaphorical steel was keeping the flood of Ford’s true thoughts at bay.

And judging by the way Stan’s features twisted with uncertainty at his brother’s words—only until he spotted Bill eyeing him and promptly shifted his expression into a look of disdain—there was clearly something keeping his own thoughts hidden as well.

Oh, it killed Bill to not know what they were thinking. To lack the ability to act as the metaphorical wrecking ball that could smash through all that steel in an instant, leaving him free to pry open every last little thought, rivet by rivet, bolt by bolt.

Well, at least he still possessed the ability to verbally taunt them~! “You heard the big guy, Goldfish~! Why don’t you run on back to bed while the adults talk?”

“Why you little—” Stan began, then paused with a look of confusion. “Goldfish, what—”

“Your sign in the Zodiac Wheel,” Bill elaborated. “You know—that little goldfish thing on your hat! Although I guess it could also be a reference to your constant desperation for fortune and fame, combined with your childish dream of dragging Sixer off on some ridiculous, insignificant boat adventure. You know, first part’s the gold, second part’s the fish?”

He tilted his head. “Of course, I could always call you Fez instead, but that just sounds silly. It’d be like calling Question Mark Shirt or Pine Tree…I dunno, Other Hat? Hmm, kinda like that, actually.”

“...Welp, that one’s on me for asking,” Stan said, and promptly turned his attention back to Ford. “I did need you for something, though. Apparently Soos found a few more moonstones that he said we should lay out in the hall—”

“Well, feel free to lay them there,” Ford said, making his way back to his chair. “One at each corner, evenly spaced…Probably a smart idea to stick one at the end of the hallway for good measure—”

“I really think we need your help with it,” Stan urged.

“Not if you follow my instructions.”

Bill’s eyebrows shot as far up his forehead as they could get, expression lighting up with sadistic glee. Oh, oh—they were fighting~! “Aww, I’m back for five minutes and you two are already at each other’s throats again!” he said with a mirthy twinkle in his eye. “Man, even after all this time, you Pines Twins still can’t get along!”

He began to rock back and forth in the chair with delight. “Come on, punch each other in the face!” he demanded excitedly. “Give Sixer a black eye that looks worse than mine!”

He stopped rocking for a moment, and cast a look down at the chair. “Hmm, I forgot that you mortals haven’t evolved to the point where you can hear the voices of inanimate objects,” he said. “I can’t even hear just how much this chair is probably screaming from the way I’ve been rocking it back and forth.”

With a cackle, he proceeded to rock back and forth even harder. “Hehe, I’ll bet the guy’s absolutely livid right now—ACK!”

The chair suddenly tipped over and crashed—Bill and all—to the floor with a loud clatter. With his limbs too restrained to catch himself in any dignified fashion, Bill quickly found himself with his face squished into the lavender rug near Abuelita’s bed. 

Both Ford and Stan stared at him for a moment, their disagreement temporarily forgotten at Bill’s misfortune. However, Stan snapped back to reality first and took advantage of the other two being distracted long enough to pull Ford towards the door and out into the hallway.

Bill barely had time to bark out an irritated: “Hey, get back here and pick me up!” before the door was pulled shut behind them. With a irritable huff, he attempted to rock the chair again in the hopes of adjusting to a more comfortable angle.

And after a moment of struggling, he finally succeeded in rolling the chair onto its—and by extension, his—back. Leaving him completely flat on the floor with his gaze pointed upwards at the ceiling.

Well, at least this angle was more familiar.

— — — — — — —

“Stanley, I said—”

“I know what you said,” Stan replied, closing the door shut behind them. “But you know I’m gonna try and make you sleep tonight, right?”

“And you know I’m not going to do that, right?”

“Ford—”

“How on Earth am I supposed to sleep with Bill still alive?!” 

It was like something had finally crashed right on through whatever wall Ford had built up in his mind, the stress he had tried desperately to repress all evening spilling out of him in an instant. “The memory gun should’ve worked,” he muttered in a panicked tone. “It…it destroyed everything in your mind, right?”

“Well, yeah, everything—” Stan began. “But—”

“There had to have been something he did, something that protected him,” Ford rambled on, mostly to himself. “Was it a spell? Some kind of failsafe? Did he catch onto our plan—”

“Woah, woah, hey, just breathe for a sec,” Stan interrupted. “Yeah, this is exactly why you’ve gotta let someone else babysit the little jerk while you get some sleep. You’re not gonna get anywhere if you’re too tired to think straight.”

And maybe if Ford got some sleep, he could shift some of the burden to Stan’s shoulders where it belonged. Yeesh, the poor guy had really been holding back earlier. Had he really been this stressed all evening?

…As if Stan needed to ask.

“You’d be surprised at what I can accomplish during an all-nighter,” Ford assured him. “Back in my college days, I once started a twenty-thousand-word essay at ten in the evening, and had it on the professor’s desk by six the next morning.”

He pressed a hand to his forehead. “And when you first arrived here to help me hide the journals, I believe was on my fourth consecutive day of staying awake.”

“Fourth?!” Stan sputtered in disbelief, before he shook his head. “No, no, just gonna ignore that for now—it’s not like I got any room to talk when it comes to bad sleep schedules. But also you are not staying up four days to deal with this by yourself.”

He reached over to place a reassuring hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Come on, Stanford, let me help you,” he urged. “At least go get an hour of sleep. I’ll stay down here, keep him quiet—heck, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut if he gets too mouthy with me.”

He balled his free hand into a fist and thumped it against his own chest. “Let me help you put that pointy jerk twenty feet back under the ground, and make it stick this time!”

Ford’s eyes fell to the hand on his shoulder and followed it up to the desperation in his brother’s features.

An expression near identical to the one he had worn after being blasted by the memory gun. Confusion mixed with a desire to understand…

It was like they were back in that clearing in the woods, the natural warmth of the sun draping itself back over the town, after the blood-red skies of Weirdmageddon had barred it from sight for so long. Stanley kneeling in front of him and the kids in a dazed trance, no recollection of whom he was or the sacrifices he had just made.

All of which he had assured Ford was worth the risk while they swapped clothes back in the Fearamid, beneath the wretched tapestries of the remaining Zodiac members, an ear perked on both ends for Bill’s thundering footsteps reapproaching the main room.

But had it been? Had it been worth the risk?

Up until Mabel’s scrapbook method, they had no way of knowing that Stanley would’ve been able to return to his usual self. And as far as they knew, that cure only worked when presented with the memory gun’s effects.

What if Stanley got involved again, only for something worse to happen to him than lost memories? What if he couldn’t simply be scrapbooked and home movie’d back to his usual self again this time around?

What if—

“Yeah, well, if they keep on bein’ that thrilled, you’re gonna have to bust out that necromancy spell to talk to me.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Stanley,” Ford said, and turned back to the door. “You go get some sleep.”

“Wh—Ford!”

His brother’s name fell on deaf ears as Ford promptly open and shut the door behind him. Stan continued to stare at the closed door, too dumbfounded to properly react. 

Ford really didn’t want his help with Bill? He could understand sending everyone off to bed earlier, but he was still turning down his help when it was just the two of them?

He raised a hand to the doorknob, the temptation to try and properly sway Ford into letting him help rising in his chest—

“Mr. Pines?”

Stan nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a voice from the other bedroom in the hallway, and he turned to see Soos standing in the doorway. “Everything alright? …I don’t have to punch anyone yet, do I?”

With an exhale, Stan forced his hand back to his side again. “Yeesh, Soos, don’t sneak up on me like that or I’m gonna be the one who starts swinging. But nah, everything’s fine. Just thought I check in on Ford, is all.”

“Alright,” Soos said with a small smile as he held up a fist of his own. “But I swear, I will throw a punch if I need to! I made a promise, after all.”

He paused, and switched the fist to another hand. “Although maybe I should use this hand,” he said thoughtfully. “Don’t wanna accidentally break my Shack-Brochure-and-Fanfic-Writing hand on his face, you know what I mean?”

He swapped back to the first. “Although it’s probably better to use your dominant hand to punch—”

“Go to bed, Soos.”

“You got it, Mr. Pines!”

He shut the door, leaving Stan once again by himself in the quiet hallway.

Stan cast a look back to the door in front of him, his hand moving towards the doorknob again.

The same way it had when Ford had called him to the shack all those years ago, eyes bloodshot and features sunken from a lack of sleep—four days, Ford?!—and he’d showed up without a second thought to help.

Despite all the time they had spent apart, Ford had relied on him enough to seek out his help. Despite everything, Stan had still held some worth in his brother’s eyes.

And how had Stan proven that worth to his brother?

By tossing him through some massive, otherworldly portal for thirty years, stealing his identity, and ruining his life.

By getting huffy over a simple thank you and nearly dooming the entire universe.

“But then again, you might have a little trouble convincing him. Considering your poor track record in fixing mistakes.”

By not doing the one thing that had actually granted him worth, and killing that stupid demon proper.

He slammed his hand back down to his side again in a balled fist, and headed back down the hallway.

Forget it, he’d try again tomorrow.

— — — — — — —

“So, how’d the fight go~?”

Not even Bill’s shrill tauntings could pull Ford out of his determined state as he returned to his chair and notebook, the tip of his pencil once again dancing across the paper with incredible speed.

From the floor where he’d fallen earlier, Bill cast him a sour look. “Oh, real mature, Sixer. You’re really not going to pick me up?”

Ford’s hand clenched tighter around the pencil as he went to scratch out his latest idea—one that joined the dozen other scribbled-out ideas above it—before moving down to the next empty row on the paper and starting again—

“Uh, hello? Stanford? I’m talking to you!”

Talk then, you vile little demon.

The tip of the pencil snapped and Ford was unable to bite back his frustrated grunt of surprise. Right on cue, a cackle started from the floor as he reached for a pencil sharpener. “Hehe, I heard that~!” Bill chimed in a singsong voice. “Guess we know who lost the fight, eh, Grumpypants~?”

Ford paid him no mind as he quickly sharpened the pencil back into a point and returned to his work with that fierce determination from before.

No matter how many scribbled-out ideas he had to toss into the fireplace, he was going to find a solution to this problem.

No matter how long it took, no matter how much he had to verbally endure at Bill’s hand again—

—he would make certain that his brother’s sacrifices hadn’t been in vain.

“...Okay, seriously, are you going to leave me down here all night?”

— — — — — — — —

Mabel couldn’t sleep.

Ever since she’d settled into bed—a snoozing Waddles curled up at her side—her eyes had stayed glued to the ceiling. At first she’d tried distracting herself by holding mental conversations with the mold spots permanently stained into the old wood, but not even Daryl could lift her spirits at a time like this.

Every few minutes, her gaze would move to the bed across the room, a question lingering on her tongue for a moment before she returned her attention to the ceiling.

It was around midnight before she finally vocalized her lingering question with a quiet: “You awake, Dipper?”

Her answer immediately came in the form of blankets shuffling as Dipper rolled over to face her. “Of course I am.”

She rolled over to face him proper as well, both pairs of eyes shifting to the triangular window of their room. The moon hung high in the night sky, its beams of light shining through the glass and illuminating the floor in a way that would normally be comforting.

Tonight, however, the sight of an eye-shaped object through the triangular frame was just a painful reminder of what waited for them just a few rooms below.

“I can’t believe he’s back…”

Dipper turned his gaze from the moonlight and back to his sister at the sound of her voice. “Did you see Grunkle Ford?” she asked quietly. “He was so scared…”

“I don’t blame him,” Dipper admitted, placing a hand to his forehead. “We went through all of that trouble to kill Bill, and it didn’t even work.”

He slid the hand down to cover his eyes, but immediately lifted it again to peek over at her. “Hey, you saw it, right? How much he looked like me…”

There was more shuffling—this time on Mabel’s end—as she sat up in bed completely. “It was like when I saw him during the puppet show,” she said, pulling her legs to her chest. “Except the hair and eyes were different this time around. His left eye wasn’t all—”

She covered her own left eye with one hand. “His hair color’s different this time, too. I wonder why?”

“Who knows?” Dipper said with a shrug. “Although I guess meeting—or re-meeting a guy who looks like me isn’t the weirdest thing to happen in this town, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mabel agreed. “Still…why’d it have to be that guy? Why does he have to ruin everything?”

A sad hum escaped her as she hugged her knees close. “So much for getting to spend more time with Grunkle Ford this summer…”

Dipper let his arm fall before he sat up in bed. “Hey, come on, you really think it’s gonna take all summer for Grunkle Ford to get rid of Bill?” he asked. “He’s spent the last thirty years traversing the Multiverse! He’s explored more dimensions than we could probably even think of on our own—dimensions where everyone lives underwater, dimensions ruled by talking robotic octopi—”

When Mabel plopped sadly back against her pillow again, Dipper paused for a moment to think. “—dimension where the air is made of cotton candy instead of oxygen?”

As he’d expected, the concept twitched the corners of her mouth with mild amusement. “Ugh, I’ll bet that dimension is soooo tasty,” she said. “I wonder what they do when it rains, though? All the cotton candy would just melt and then they’d have no air—ooh, I’ll bet they have like, a ga-ZILLION of those cotton candy-making machines ready for when that happens!”

“Anything’s possible in the Multiverse,” Dipper said with a nod. “My point is that Grunkle Ford’s been around, and he’s probably picked up a lot of different ways to get rid of Bill! Even if the methods he’s tried already didn’t work—and even if we can’t use stuff like the Zodiac or his Quantum Destabilizer—I’m sure he’s got something up his sleeve.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And if none of those work, we could always come up with some ideas for him! Like—like—”

She flumped her arms across her blanket with an exasperated huff. “Well, I’m too tired to think of anything now, but I’m sure we could think of something!” she said, scrunching her face in concentration. “What if we…I dunno—”

“Oooh!” Dipper snapped his fingers with inspiration. “What if we got one of those time travel devices, strapped one to Bill, and then rocketed him to a date so far into the future that he’d never be able to get back to our time?”

Mabel pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, but her amusement faded almost immediately. “Nah, that wouldn’t work. He could always trick and possess someone super far in the future, and they could help him get back here,” she pointed out. “Like what he did with that Blendin guy, remember?”

“Oh, yeah…”

The two fell silent again, the only noise that could be heard was the gentle summer wind rustling the forest outside their window. “We should probably sleep for real,” Dipper finally said. “We can just…do what we told Grunkle Stan we were going to do and take shifts, right?”

“Well then, you sleep first,” Mabel said, once again in an upright position as she reached over to pull Waddles close to her. “And like I said I was gonna do, I’ll let Waddles stay on your side and be your guard hog while you sleep.”

Waddles followed up her remark with a groggy little oink of reassurance, and Dipper let out a chuckle. “Yeah, and what’s he gonna do if Bill pops up in my dream?”

“I mean, you can always dream up a dream Waddles to eat him,” Mabel suggested. “He looks like a corn chip, right? I’ll bet dream corn chips taste just as good as real ones!”

She plapped a hand against the top of Waddles’ head. “Plus then when you wake up, you’ll have the real Waddles right there to comfort you!”

This got a full-on laugh out of Dipper. “Alright, alright, point made. Send him over.”

Mabel leaned over the side of the bed and gently set Waddles to the floor, giving his little rump an encouraging pat. “Go on, boy! Go protect Dipper from the dream nacho!”

With another tired little oink, he ambled on over to Dipper’s side of the bedroom and oinked up at him for assistance. “Go ahead and set an alarm on your phone, Mabel,” Dipper said, and reached down to pull him up onto his bed. “What should we set it to? An hour? Hour-and-a-half?”

“An hour works for me,” Mabel said. “But if you don’t actually sleep for that hour, I will not hesitate to stay up longer out of spite!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sleeping…”

Dipper settled back down under the covers while Waddles snuggled up next to him, and it wasn’t until Mabel heard Dipper’s light snoring that she finally dared to tear her gaze from him and reach for her phone.

That was good. At the very least, he’d be getting some sleep tonight.

She looked to the window again—the moonlight still faintly illuminating the darkened room—and crawled out of bed to stare outside properly. Despite the tall trees that surrounded the shack on all sides, there was little to block the ocean of stars that painted the night sky.

After staring for a bit, she turned and crawled back into her bed. With another look at her brother to make sure he was still asleep, she dug her hand between the mattress and wall, the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips in determination as she fumbled around for the unseen object she sought so desperately.

She knew it was a longshot that it would’ve remained in the same place for nine months—given the dustless state of their room, Soos would’ve been the most likely candidate to find it if he searched-slash-cleaned hard enough—but eventually her fingers brushed against something and she pulled it out to investigate.

It was an old, dusty piece of paper, the same one she had crumpled and tucked in its hiding spot almost a full year ago. The edges were frayed and torn and the tint of the paper was a sicklier yellow than she remembered—but the jagged writing on the front was still just as legible as the day she’d found it in Stan’s car:

“Note to self: Possessing people is hilarious! To think of all the sensations I’ve been missing out on—burning, stabbing, drowning. It’s like a buffet tray of fun! Once I destroy that journal, I’ll enjoy giving this body its grand finale—by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind, and his mental form will wander in the mindscape forever. Want to join him, Shooting Star?”

Mabel stared hard at the paper for what felt like an hour—although in reality, it was probably no longer than a few minutes. She read and reread several times over, every cruel word like a knife to her vision and gut, before finally crumpling the paper in an angry fist and shoving it back down between the wall and her mattress where it belonged.

She settled back against her pillow again, and turned back to Dipper’s bed. Still fast asleep, with nothing more than the occasional twitch or shift in place.

He was sleeping, supposedly without nightmares. That was all that mattered.

She continued to stare at him until the sight made her drowsy, before turning her attention back to the various mold spots on the ceiling.

Daryl was going to have to work overtime tonight if he really wanted to lift her spirits.

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #Gravity Falls #Triangulum The Fic #Bill Cipher #Stanford Pines #My Writing #Long Post #(More characters in the chapter; they are just tagged for the art) #(Stan and Mabel get some decent screentime in this chapter as well)

[asterdisaster06]

i love you ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

Pt 1. Pt 2. 3.

summary > Soap interactions with you, bringing you food after you skip dinner in favor of taking a nap, Price wants to see you - see pt 1 for overall fic summary

word count > 1.6k

warnings > should be none

a/n > future chapters should be longer, this just felt like a nice cutoff and I'm just starting to get the hang of fanfic writing. gotta love our boy Soap though. it might be a while for the next chapter though since i'm working on other works too

ao3

“Goddamn, who let a little birdie in here?” He laughs. 

Soap. You had heard quite a bit about this particular Scotsman from your ex lover. You had an inkling that you two would’ve gotten along, even bringing it up to Simon once or twice about meeting him. He denied your request, sighing goodnaturedly about how you two apart are already the death of him - let alone together. You claimed that this was all the more reason to meet him, or at the very least, let him know of your existence. Simon had always paused around this point and you had never pushed it, and now you’re kind of glad. The last thing you needed was another person that was no longer a stranger around this base. You were supposed to be having a new start, and that would be very difficult if MacTavish knew of your existence beforehand.

However, you hadn’t expected to run into one of Simon’s teammates so soon into your arrival on base. The world seemed to have different plans though. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to my room?” You ask politely, pulling out your information to show him.

“Aye, I do happen to know the way, follow me, Lass.”

You were honestly counting on him not knowing, but you’re realizing now that he’s the kind of person that would figure it out whether he knew initially or not. It seems like you’re stuck in the company of this man and his mohawk for a little while longer. It’s not like you particularly disliked him, in fact it was quite the opposite. It’s just the memories of your past are being dredged up by him, and his association with Simon wasn’t helping.

“So, what’s up with the mask,” He asks, drawing out the ‘a’ in the last word, coming off as teasing you. 

You were attempting to come up with a half truth, because you truly hadn’t worn this mask minus on missions at your old base. It was simply this place that brought out that side of you. Or maybe it was a person rather than a place.

“I just find it comforting, y’know?” You decide on, finally. It wasn’t a lie, the mask truly did offer you comfort around here. It just probably isn’t for a reason that Soap would detect. 

“I think you’d get along well with one of my masked comrades, maybe bond about hiding identities or somethin’” Soap chuckles.

You offer a slight smile in return, the anxiety that had recently left coming back in full force. You knew exactly who he was talking about, and you vehemently disagreed with what Soap had to say. 

“You should join us for dinner after you get settled in, I could be your little tour guide,” Soap says, winking at you. 

“I’ll have to think about it, stranger,” You offer back, smiling.

“Oh yeah! The name’s Soap. Soap MacTavish,” He laughs. 

“You can call me Angel,” You say, blushing as you realize the implications.

He sends you a curious look with an eyebrow raise. “Oh? Let me at least take you out to dinner first, Bonnie.”

“Very funny, it’s my callsign. Like I assume yours is, unless your parents really hated you,” You joke, almost enjoying this banter with Soap. 

“Oi, we don’t judge around here,” He laughs, referring to your silly callsigns. 

“I suppose I’ll see you around, Soap?” You ask, ready to settle down in your own space. With your own silence to accompany you.

“Is that a yes to dinner?” He jokes, aware of the double meaning of his sentence.

“Oh knock it off, I’ll have to think about it,” You smile, wondering if this is how it could’ve been in another life. A life where you had actually gotten to meet Soap under different circumstances. You unlock your door, entering and turning back to see Soap still there. 

“Don’t think too hard! I wouldn’t want you to worry that pretty little head of yours too much, Bonnie,” He teases, already deciding on a nickname for you it seems.

“We hardly know each other, and you have no clue what I look like,” You laugh, pushing him out of your doorframe, amused at his antics nonetheless.

“Oh, I’m sure you look slightly better than a troll under the bridge at least,” He says with a toothy grin. “You’re not ugly, are you?” He asks ironically.

“Quite the opposite,” You offer up with a crooked smile. 

“That’s what I thought,” He says with a smile that rivals the Cheshire cat. “Now, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?”

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you’ll be fine alone,” You say, tiredly. It’s not like you wanted to cut your friendly banter with Soap short. On the other hand, you didn’t exactly feel like socializing. Not after your tiring day already. 

“Alright, alright rookie. But I am bringing something around later to make sure you eat. If it wasn’t me it would be Price, so don’t think it’s any trouble,” He says, predicting your words before you could even voice them.

“Who are you calling a rookie, Sergeant?” You chirp out. 

“Are you not one? Price just mentioned that we would be getting someone new, or maybe I was zoning out when he mentioned your details. Actually no, I definitely was. I think I was throwing crumpled up paper at Gaz - you’ll meet him later,” Soap explains, smiling at the end.

Gaz. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick. Simon had spoken less of him specifically but whatever he did have to say, it was only full of praise. That or another story of his unfortunate luck lending him time hanging from a rope out of a helicopter. That story had always made you laugh. 

“I’m technically a Lieutenant,” You manage to say between laughter. 

“Jesus Christ, another one? I wouldn’t have coined you for one,” Soap exclaimed.

“And why’s that?” You ask, curious but already knowing the answer. People have always underestimated you based on looks and size. Starting from your first days at the academy to when you first got your callsign to even after you were nicknamed the ‘Angel of Death.’ Other soldiers had only reinforced Simon’s words that you weren’t worthy of your position, let alone the opportunity to even try. 

“Just the way our Lieutenant, or I guess I should start referring to him as ‘First Lieutenant’ now, responded to the details that I didn’t hear. He almost seemed to be. . . worried about having someone else to worry about. Looking at you now though, I can tell we’re going to have nothing to worry about,” He ends with a smile.

Huh, that was new. You didn’t expect that from Soap, but you suppose he’s just full of surprises. Fitting for the demolitionist that has a knack for gunpowder filled surprises. Nonetheless, you had luggage to unpack and sleep to catch up on. You eventually get Soap to leave you alone to your devices, putting on your playlist and unpacking about half of your shit before getting too tired to continue. Laying back on your freshly made bed, your eyes flutter closed and you fall into unconsciousness. 

A knock at your door wakes you and you shake off your sleepiness - rubbing your eyes and stretching as you do. The blurriness of both your vision and mind makes you almost forget where you are. Only for a second though. 

“Open up, Angel!” Soap yells through the door.

He really had no capabilities of being subtle, did he. You stumble a bit getting out of bed but find your footing and make your way to the wooden door, turning the knob and opening it. The brightness of the hallway makes you flinch slightly before your eyes adjust to the lighting. 

“What do you want?” You ask the man who’s simply standing and staring at you.

“You- you don’t have your mask on-” He stammers, seemingly caught between staring and shielding his face out of politeness. 

“I mean, I don’t sleep with it on, and you did kind of wake me up, MacTavish,” You sigh, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Oh right! Here’s your food,” Soap smiles sheepishly, taking the tupperware out from behind his back. It has a silly little doodle of himself in cartoon form saying “Food for Angel, No touchy” which you found amusing enough to smile at. 

“Thank you Soap, genuinely,” You offer up, taking his gift of food from his hands. 

He smiles back at you, sending you a mock salute before heading off to presumably his room. Before he gets to the end of the hallway he suddenly stops and turns, yelling back at you that Price wants to see you in his office after you finish eating. He really waited until the last minute for that one, didn’t he? Despite the slight annoyance you held, it was overshadowed by the simple amusement you had watching the man. He might not have known you knew of his famous shenanigans before you even set eyes on him, but you would get there. You take a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of what the mess hall had to offer for today. It exceeded your expectations, but that could just be the fact that your old base had shit food. 

You truly wondered what Price had to say to you, deciding that he was calling you down to fire you for the disrespect you had shown him and your apparent partner by leaving so suddenly. Obviously, it was not going to be that dramatic, but you still worried a tad bit. You were aware that you would likely be working alongside Simon, and some small masochistic part of you accepted this job despite it. Maybe in spite of it. You wanted to prove yourself to him, though you’re now realizing that he’ll eventually need to know your identity. Something you aren’t keen on sharing. 

That part of you had been shed long ago, and now your new feathers have grown in.

#ao3 #cod fic #cod mw2 #fanfic #mw2 141 #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #john soap mactavish #mw2 #angst #hurt/comfort #emotional angst #angst with a happy ending #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john price #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick

[star2fishmeg]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏ

Pairing: Miyauchi ‘Binzo’ Kozo x afab!reader

Summary: y/n’s day just kept getting worse and worse and Binzo had just what she needed to make it better

Warnings: ooc Binzo, fluff, comfort, swearing, short n' sweet

Authors note: this one’s dedicated @straysugzhpe who is such an incredible person and writer!! This is my first time writing Binzo by the way, have mercy. F/n = friend’s name

Authors note II: my banners and fics look better on dark mode btw, light mode users are your eyes okay?

Request: none!

With the sun finding slumber over the horizon, what was supposed to be just a normal day at school turned for the worst. The heavens opened in the morning, completely ruining the hairstyle she spent ages on perfecting (no occasion, but she just wanted to feel pretty), she failed a test and while it wasn’t that much of a deal, it was just something you’d rather not add to the already defeated feeling; then over lunch, someone spilt juice over her uniform, leaving it sticky and gross and to finish off her day a couple of girls had stolen her shoes and when she had found them, they were covered in mud. Her day went so horrifically that she hadn’t even waited for her friend and just left.

Crushing the juice box between her fingers, y/n dropped it lazily on the bench beside her, staring back at the view over the city from the hill she found herself. The city itself had started to awaken, restaurant lights flickering and apartment lights barely glowing in the tangerine hues that blanketed the world. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes, her breath becoming shallow and she tried to refrain. It failed though, her ducts gave out and the weight on her chest was relieved with hot tears silently streaming down her cheeks, quiet sobs heaving as she let the stress of her day rush out her body.  Covering her face was pointless, no one was around anyway, in her eyes she was already a mess as it was. Dropping her head, she pulled her knees to her chest, curling up on the bench while watching the sunset with blurry vision and sore eyes.

“I, uh…hey y/n.” Kozo wasn’t one for being soft-spoken, but the way he was picking at his nails while approaching the bench to sit next to her in small steps gave enough indication that he was trying his best. He sat at a reasonable distance, not to frighten her, eyes flickering between the view and her figure.

Y/n sniffed, languidly turned her head to give him a glance, pushing hair out her eyes and wiping her eyes swiftly, “Did f/n tell you?” she sniffed. His eyebrows raised at her croaky voice, she really sounded rough. His heart tightened, he’d never seen someone with so much resemblance to sunshine appear completely dejected and rained on. Binzo only nodded, looking back at his hands as she sighed, “I feel awful, I just left them without a word.”

“They understand, don’t worry.” He paused, “You gonna tell me what happened or do you wanna hug or something?” His mind was screaming at him, he could’ve said something better than that and he could’ve offered a hug when he wasn’t covered in dirt and drywall.  Drywall. Where did the drywall come from? He kept fidgeting, his fingers becoming more interesting than anything else at that moment. Leaning back, he draped his arms over the back of the bench, awkwardly opening his mouth but no words came out. What would Mercy do, huh? He had asked him about this type of thing recently but now it was reality, he’d gone completely dumb as if y/n was some random woman. The cogs in his brain rusted and trying to think, he’d known her for years why was his leg trembling and why did he suddenly care about his appearance, why was his stomach doing flips?

Y/n scooted closer to him, resting her head on his chest, facing the dusk, “Did my hair all pretty only for it to get ruined, then failed some dumb test, had juice launched over me and some girls stole my fucking shoes and covered them in mud, so now my feet are cold, damp and disgusting and then I just ran off without f/n so I feel guilty about that and I know it’s not that deep but I can’t help it.”

Binzo wrapped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer while she cuddled into him, tears brimming and being soaked up by his jacket. He didn’t say anything, but the thundering in his chest spoke volumes for him. He just gently caressed her hair, twirling stands on his finger and combing it until she had no tears left to cry.

“For what it’s worth, y/n, I still think you’re pretty,” he said softly and glanced down, y/n lifting her head to meet his gaze, “Even if your hair was ruined, clothes soaked and shoes muddy, you’re still very beautiful.”

She smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing, a genuine smile. Kozo responded with a smile of his own, not a manic one like before fights, one that only existed in the comforts of his room and inner circle where it was followed by a small chuckle rather than a growl. Overall, she thought it was nice hearing him talk rather than yelling, the zombie everyone else knew didn’t exist around her, not that she was bothered by that side.  

“I think you’re pretty too,” her fingers ran down the denim on his jacket, leaving a streak in the dust that coated it, “Even when you’re covered in...drywall?”

He shook his head in defeat, smile never fading, “Shit happens.”

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse

[Masterlist]

[Requests OPEN]

2023 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise, translate, repost, copy any of my works. If you notice that any of these have been done to my work, please let me know.

#binzo x reader #miyauchi kozo #high&low #high&low x reader #high&low the worst #high and low #highandlow #high & low #high&low the worst x reader #high&low the worst x cross #high&low the worst cross x reader #suzuran x reader #high&low binzo

[ginalinettiofficial]

hey what’s up hello okay so i finally just finished s2 e52 of dndads (had a very crazy work week so was listening in bits and pieces) and here’s the thing is that im also currently relistening to the whole season and earlier in this week, the most recent episode i finished, was halt and catch fireball, and before that ya know was mrs. swallows oak garcia’s home for peculiar teens or whatever that one is called where they are just. at normal’s house and we got to actually get to know rebecca a little bit and i have got to say that i don’t know if i could’ve picked a more painful and wild older ep to listen to as a precursor to dood riddance i really don’t!!! literally half of the shit in dood riddance just circles back to that arc in the swallows oak garcia home and it’s CRAZY

like first of all. the red vines, which they called twizzlers the entirety of e52 which was MADDENING as a person who legit just finished e30/31 where the red vines were introduced

but then like. e31 is where taylor gets the anime sword from nick!!! that he loses in e52!!!

there were a few other things that i’ve forgotten in the half an hour since i finished the ep because my brain is a sieve on a good day and i’m just getting home from two back to back 13 hour shifts (with an extra 1hr10/20 each day for the commute) so the brain machine is so fucking broke rn

but mainly. i wasn’t loving e52 esp after dood left i just was not vibing with it, i feel like the vibes were off in the room in a way that translated into the ep for a bit there, but then anthony in those last like three minutes brought it back around and with the roll of rebecca??? after i legit JUST finished listening to the eps that feature her the most prominently and like truly showcase not only normal’s relationship w his mom but also, as is said several times in e30/31 and their teen talks, just how similar normal IS to his mom and how he really clearly is a total momma’s boy and very much so seemed to be a kid who sought solace with his mom more than anyone else in his family and just. having legit JUST reestablished that in my own, made the end of e52 DEVASTATING for me in a way that idk if it was for other ppl??? idk haven’t checked the fandom yet im very disconnected this season but just.

like

i think that okay so we have ten parents it could’ve been, right? and five of those are the kiddads, and none of us want to see them die, so in that moment when anthony was telling us what was gonna happen, obviously my instinct was like “oh god don’t do this don’t do terry jr again but truly permanent” and then my next instinct was that it would be potentially even MORE awful if it was scary’s dad because finally there he is and that’s ALL she wants and for willy to take that moment from her would be INSANE and then (mind you this was my thought process over the course of literally 10 seconds, my brain is ping ponging in my head and has been since the second i got in the car to head home i need to sleep) and THEN my next thought was, oh god, but how fucked up would it be if it were marco??? oh god, how fucked up would it be if it were cassandra?!?!?!?! and then it was time for the roll and truly in those brief seconds basically my brain flicked through every potential victim and said “oh god THAT one would be the WORST”, EXCEPT for veronica and rebecca, and it made the hit of it being rebecca who was low down on my instinctual list to think of but then the second he said her name i was immediately ricocheted back to earlier in the week when i was listening to halt and catch fireball and mrs. swallows oak garcias home and how many emotions i had about normal and his mom just relistening to those episodes and then the fact that i DIDNT think to worry about her just

all of that combined to make that a CRITICAL HIT FOR ME OKAY like i am SO fucked up over this truly that was WILD and i applaud anthony burch for it and now am excited for the finale even though ive spent the last three eps just dreading it for several reasons but now im excited and devastated and i love that

anyways. that was word vomit i just NEEDED to get this out because the connections between those two episodes really will not stop hitting me in the head and i need to impart that onto SOMEONE. if u read this. ur a real one. rip rebecca swallows oak garcia you were a legend and i am so sad about u

#d speaks #dndads #dndads s2 #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers #normal oak

[laniemae]

We need to talk about Nilovalentine’s behaviour in this whole situation (NOT A HATE POST JUST EXPLANATION)

[IMPORTANT PLEASE READ]

To say it once again, this is not a hate post of any kind, I just want to talk the specifics of what has happened the past month.

I know this is a very risky post to make, for me and for everyone involved. But to properly tell the truth about everything that’s happened I believe is the best for my mental health and to learn and recover from this situation, and to hopefully never get caught up in something again.

Before you hate on me for saying this, please don’t instantly assume the worst of me for speaking up about this sort of behaviour. I don’t want any sort of anchoring bias to be at play here and am trying my best to simply explain what has happened without any bias, and I please want everyone who reads this to understand this and to at least understand where I’m coming from, ok?

———

So to start off, this post is not in any way justifying my actions. I have already talked about what I have done and what I did was bad, I explained that in another post. But I feel like if you guys understand Nilo’s behaviour in this situation hopefully this can be of benefit to us all. And please don’t attack any one mentioned.

Basically it all started with my first breakdown from the second new years gartic phone game. It’s hard to remember as I often forget stressful things but when I first got upset Nilo commented on my post saying how 0709 was “ok because…” instead of acknowledging how uncomfortable I was with it and trying to reason with me. I stated before in my apology post that sort of attitude gives me really bad memories, but in his benefit at that time he wouldn’t have known that.

I got really upset at the post and told him how that just made things worse. Then not too long later Nilo proceeded to joke about it on his account and completely disregard how uncomfortable I was in the situation. Now, just to make things clear, from this point it could’ve been a misunderstanding where he thought it was some silly ship hate and didn’t notice my discomfort, but things just proceeded to get worse as time went on.

I ended up talking to someone who tried to help me in all of this. They went on to try and ask for an apology/more notice on the situation. I don’t know what exactly happened from their perspective but Nilo had taken over a week to even respond and the apology did not mention anything about my discomfort and feels redundant over what has happened recently.

Things were quiet for a while until the Valentine’s post last week that set me off. To say it once again, I acted brash and overly violent in that situation and I am not justifying what I did, I was just at my nadir at that time and couldn’t see anything else in sight and thought it was the end. What happened afterwards is what made me really worried about Nilo’s attitude towards my situation.

He proceeded to go on and joke about the situation replying to an ask with some joke about this being like a war or a game to someone who supported him with some silly soldier image telling them “god bless soldier”, completely disregarding how uncomfortable and a dark mental state I was in treating it like it was just some game.

Nilo replied to my reblog when I got incredibly upset about it saying that he didn’t hate me only to say that he didn’t care. He blamed everything that happened on me while again, very clearly not acknowledging my mental state at the time or that had ignored any sort of reasoning I had before I became violent. He claimed that I could move on like it was no problem implying that my whole behaviour was stupid and proceeded to make way too many assumptions about me and my behaviour.

Even though I reacted violently and inappropriately in this situation Nilovalentine’s ignorant behaviour should not go unnoticed. With me, I’m trying to learn from my mistakes and become a better person. I don’t want to make any assumptions or anything but I don’t think anything has changed with Nilo.

He’s repeatedly ignored my situation and discomfort, joked about my situation and had put no efforts to reason with me and literally said he did not care and put all the blame on me. Yes, a lot of it was my fault but the ignorant behaviour is what spiralled it out of control in the first place.

Again, this is a very risky post for me to make but I feel like the only way things would ever move forward is by saying this. I can’t bottle this up and keep it all to myself as that’s probably what caused me to act so badly on Valentine’s Day last week.

And to say it, since I’m only me I don’t know every perspective from this situation so there would be more to this, this is only my experience and the behaviours I’ve had to deal with. We’re all human after all, so there’s so good or bad here, just choices and mistakes.

Please, do not hate on either of us for everything that’s happened. This post is only intended to be a stone for my recovery and subsequent efforts to rejoin this fandom once more, even if I have to get everything of my chest and risk a lot as I know lots of you are mutuals with Nilovalentine. So please, take this post to heart and consider things from a wider perspective from now on out. I only want to make things better for everyone and after hitting rock bottom I’ve started to understand this situation more clearly, and the acceptance that comes with moving on. 

I’m sorry for posting this as it’s a hard topic, but we all need to move on at some point and not get stuck in a cycle of stagnation.

Please treat this situation with respect and don’t rush to any sides

If you haven’t read it, this is my original apology post detailing the situation and why I responded as I did in greater detail https://www.tumblr.com/laniemae/742434928724164608/about-the-situation-at-hand-and-why-i-responded?source=share

#milgram #I’m very sorry for maintagging this #I guess this is an important post that needs to address everything #I’m scared of the reception this may get #I don’t want anyone to get hurt anymore because I’ve had enough of that #The only way to move is to move forward if we all try it’s not that hard if you clear your mind #I am truly sorry for my behaviour I exhibited during this whole situation #Like I said I was at my lowest and could not make sense of anything that was happening and was too overwhelming #I hope this comes as a learning experience to me so I can avoid making mistakes such as this in the future #It feels so bad for talking about someone so specifically about this and I know I’ll probably get gossiped about alot #But I feel that this is necessary to move on #Tag to find later

[pumpkinpie59]

i honestly want to share my thoughts on apritello bc i’m tired of people hating on it …

i personally don’t think they’re toxic. i used to, during my teen years. i had stopped watching the show because i had nothing to watch it on (didn’t have cable). and everyone online was complaining about apritello like it was the worst. so i took their word for it and didn’t really look into it myself.

but rewatching it recently has made me reflect on it more, and honestly?? while i recognize that they made tons of mistakes in their relationship from season 1 to mid-season 3, i can’t really hate either of them for it. they were KIDS. and kids (and heck, even adults) will make mistakes when dealing with romance for the first time. what matters is that they come to an understanding, meet in the middle, and grow to be better. and watching the second half of season 3 onward, i was convinced by their actions towards each other that they had grown! both as individuals and as a duo. donnie backed off while still caring for her and supporting her, and april had his back too, letting him know when he was too much and showing him care and affection when he needed it.

actually there’s a quick scene in season 4 episode 1 where in the background, right after casey and donnie hug april in celebration, april gives donnie a look and he backs away apologetically. and then she smiles at him and they continue to celebrate. she’s giving herself boundaries for both of them, and he’s respecting that.

(kinda hard to see but here it is in the background)

i think the main reason that people feel so icky about them is because there was no scene where the two of them talked about their relationship on camera.

i personally don’t need to see them talk to believe that they grew closer based on their actions alone, but i can see why it would confuse people. but i do believe they talked off camera.

the writers obviously wanted to focus on other plot things instead of on the drama that is apritello, and i blame a lot of that on nickelodeon thinking that they’ll lose viewers if they show a human and a mutant get together.

the only time in the second half of the show where their relationship reaches a danger zone was the whole aeon crystal situation, but i don’t blame april or donnie for what happened. april obviously couldn’t control herself very well, and donnie was trying to respect her boundaries while still making sure she was okay, which proved difficult.

but they got through that. donnie forgave her and never gave up on her, and it was through her affection for him that she beat za-naron. actually even before she was completely possessed, there were moments when she had unbridled rage (toward shinigami), and donnie was the one to take her out of it.

and from then on they’re almost constantly next to each other.

i do wish we could’ve seen them like,,, actually get together on camera, but i am basically convinced they were dating during season 5.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #apritello #tmnt donatello #april o'neil

[anxresi]

Somehow, I can tell who wrote the script for ‘Derision’...

...The latest leaked script for the bastion of security which is Miraculous Ladybug.

I’ll spare you the predictable scenes set in flashback where Chloe (with the help of that gullible lug Kim and willing assistant Sabrina) covers everyone’s favorite blunette in spiders (didn’t Zoe get cockroaches put in her locker too? WTF is it with this show which considers insects the epitome of bullying?) and covers her ass with green paint (hey, it could’ve been worst! It could’ve been gum... oh.)

The part where it REALLY shows Mr Astruc’s handiwork and how he’s far more manipulative than even Chloe could ever hope to be, stands out in this particular shining moment... 

1. WTF is ‘Rosita’? Is this the Mexican dub, or something?

2. OOH THOMAS YOU SO META WITH YOUR BLATANT EXPOSITION!! But really, you’re using an argument against Chloe fans rivalled only in its disingenuousness by its pure straw man...ibility.

My beef with you regarding Chloe’s development isn’t ‘E-v-i-l people using bad parental treatment as an excuse for their misdeeds’ and more ‘Leading us on a wild goose chase with HOURS of episodes showing Chloe growing both as a person and a superhero, only to abandon all that suddenly to turn her into a wannabe terrorist and psychopath overnight’. Check out TV Tropes. Alpha Bitches do not generally turn from Lovable Alpha Bitches to Complete Monsters in the space of one episode, do they? (Unless of course, you want us all to kneel at the altar of that vast expanse of blandness known as Zoe, but that’s another story...) 

Ways it could’ve been done better: SHOW us during S1 and S2 that Chloe is capable of the mindless thuggery we’ve seen of her more recently. If you’re going to show her pull a Heel-Heel-Face-Turn, do it GRADUALLY in a realistic fashion, don’t just dump it all at the end of S3 by pretending her budding development never happened. And if Zoe was REALLY ‘the true holder of the Bee Miraculous’, how come her name was never even mentioned until the early parts of S4?! I think we’re talking about less of a character here, and more of a placeholder introduced to take on Chloe’s role as a hero because you don’t like her. (Zoe getting Pollen after one-and-a-half episodes was ‘utterly ridiculous’ too, as will be her becoming Chat Noir briefly in a future show(!) But again., that’s a discussion for another time.)

Basically Mr A, you can heap as many humiliating ‘punishments’ upon Chloe as much as you want. Mutilate her once-halfway-complex and potential-filled personality by increasingly marking her as one-dimensionally e-v-i-l to your heart’s content. Insert as much clunky dialogue from the mouths of other characters to get back at your ‘haterz’ if it makes you feel better. Even set entire episodes set in the past designed to make people hate her as much as you do... hey, it’s your show!

But don’t try to pretend any of this was planned. Along with the reasons given above, I don’t think if all this was intended from the beginning, such a MEGA surplus of Queen Bee and Chloe toys would’ve been released... if they always intended her to be one of the most despised characters. It was all done because one man’s blind hatred of a fictional teenager hi-jacked the plot and derailed it from what it could’ve been. At one point at the end of S2, things were ticking along quite nicely. Then YOU got much more heavily involved in the show’s writing... and the rest, as they say, is history.

And no, I am NOT devaluing Marinette’s in-story bullying. I’m more criticizing Thomas’s shameless weaponizing of it to turn this episode into yet ANOTHER stick to beat Chloe with. It disgusts me more and more, to see him paint (pun not intended) a young child as some kind of irredeemable hellspawn incarnate to prop up the kudos of the stereotypically ‘nice’ girl characters around her. Sorry... Marinette, Mylene, Rose and ESPECIALLY Zoe. You’re just boring. CHLOE FAN FOREVER!! :D

So, to conclude... my main reaction to Derision... is complete and utter derision. Just not in the way they intended... ;)

(Someone just left a comment pointing out Mylene’s mother abandoned her. Figures only Thomas would use a side character’s misery as yet ANOTHER excuse to get back at Miss Bourgeois. What’s the betting that this now canonical detail was only put in to denigrate Chloe more? After all, he introduced an entire character for this very purpose, so I wouldn’t put ANYTHING past him now...) :p

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #Chloe #chloe bourgeois #ml spoilers #ladybug

[mortallyclearwonderland]

I'm not enthusiastic about Wish

Is everybody hipped for Wish? Finally! An original movie that will honor the history of Disney's animations in a new style? Sign me up! Where can I buy a ticket?

Well, I'm not about to forget everything this company has done. It seems too good to be true. Can Disney really do a 180? Well, seeing the new wave of pointless remakes not entirely.

Let me list everything that can go wrong given Disney's recent trends:

The movie will be an eye-candy with beautiful 2D and 3D. (But going by the trailer it's not as impressive as the Puss in Boots the Last Wish or Spiderverse. We need a better name for that animation style. How about 2/3D? ZED? I don't know.) 

The music will be great, at worst forgettable.

The Star character will be annoying.

Valentino will be funny and marketable but the movie could've worked without him. 

The world will be huge, beautiful, and interesting and we explore none of it. 

The protagonist will be bland with one obvious flaw or a dream which will be related to the message of the movie. 

The message will have all the subtlety of the hammer in the face.

Inconsistencies, contradictions, and random stuff happening because funny/the plot.

References to older classics that you wish you would be watching. (You saw how many references they cram now into their other movies? And now it's one of the things they talked about the most!) 

Death is funny until we have the fake-out death then you need to care. 

No love interest because love makes women weak apparently. Or no love interest because the actress is a lesbian and she talked about how Asha ''looks like her'' because modern acting isn't about pretending to be something you're not, it's about showing who you are every chance you get. And for those who think they might make a lesbian love interest, I would like you to take a look at the gay ''romance'' in the strange world. But if by some chance they do I doubt it will be any good. When was the last romance in Disney, Frozen 2 (2018) and that's a holdover from the first movie (2013) and the last good romance was Tangled (2010). 

No villain. Or worse, a lame villain! It's supposed to be a throwback to the older Disney movies and that includes its villains but Disney is so incompetent with their IPs I wouldn't be surprised if they get their own villain ''formula'' wrong. I swear if they try to make him a twist after spoiling that Chris Pine will be voicing the villain and his evil laugh in the teaser trailer, or ''redeem'' him after he did unspeakable evils. And no villain song. Can Chris Pine sing? Please no terrible auto-tune! 

Making jabs at old Disney tropes even tho this movie isn't even half as good as the movies that came before it, uses a bunch of other modern tropes or straight up the same ones that it mocked earlier and completely misinterprets them and uses them even worse! Modern Disney seems to hate its past and does everything to show how ''better'' they are now. Which is untrue in most cases and just smug and annoying!

I'm sorry for being so pessimistic but that's how jaded I become and only towards Disney. It might be their greatest hit that will make people think ''Disney is back''.

What do you think?

#WISH #Disney wish #Asha #King Magnifico

[mlmxreader]

Okay | Fox Mulder x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Mulder with the prompt "You could've gotten hurt!" please?

summary: Mulder is involved with an accident at work, and you fear the worst has happened to him when you get the call. 

tws: swearing 

word count: 639

When you got the call to say that Mulder was in the hospital, you genuinely did fear the worst for your boyfriend, thinking that you would have to identify the body, but when you met Scully outside, she was quick to reassure you; he wasn’t hurt, he was just caught in an accident during their most recent case, and although you begged to see him, she had explained that you weren’t allowed until the doctors had concluded all the tests that they needed to do in order to ensure that he was as well as he had been when he left for work that morning. 

So you sat with her, bouncing your leg until she put her hand on your knee and gave you a little smile; she loved Mulder as much as you did, he was like family to her, and although she had no reason to worry, as she had looked him over at the scene and found nothing, she knew that she could not give that same type of reassurance to you. You needed to see him before you would believe that he was okay, and she very much knew that feeling all too well; she got you coffee while you waited together, and spoke to you about things that you would find interesting just to keep your mind away from fearing that something had happened to your boyfriend. Every now and then, when you put your arm on the rest, she would place her hand on yours and would gently trace your skin. 

You would calm down for a few moments, and she would give you that wonderful smile of reassurance; you never admitted it, but you always felt safe with Scully, you always felt like things were okay when she was around - like when you were at school and your best friend would walk in, and you would know that things were okay. Only now, you were much older, and instead of worrying about being told off about homework, you were worried about why the doctors were keeping Mulder in the examination room for so long. 

At last, though, he left the room, unable to do up his tie in time as you crashed against him, holding his waist tightly with one arm as you placed your other hand at the back of his head to keep his body close to your own, a sigh of relief and a thousand words of gratitude that he was okay falling from your lips so quickly that the words became mangled and indistinguishable. But he laughed, and pushed you away enough so that he could look into your eyes. 

“Look, I’m okay.” 

“I know,” you whispered, nodding and kissing his forehead. “I’m fucking glad, but… you could’ve gotten hurt! Why did you think-” 

“(y/n),” Mulder cupped your face in his hands as he tilted his head to the side. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.” 

You frowned, shaking your head as you swallowed thickly. “Fox… I was so fucking worried, I had no idea what to do, I thought- I thought the worst had happened when I got the call to say you were here and I-” 

Just to shut you up and stop you from spiralling, Mulder quickly kissed you, and when you pulled away with a smile, he chuckled. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You owe (y/n) one,” Scully said from her chair. “You really had them worried, Mulder.” 

Mulder hung his head for a moment before he let out a sigh. “Alright… how about dinner? On me?”

You nodded, but not before pulling him in for another tight hug. “We can get a takeaway and watch Ruggero Deodato films - how’s that sound?”

“We can do that,” he agreed. “But I’m paying.” 

“You’re goddamn right you are,” you laughed softly. “Fucking idiot… I love you.” 

#mlem writes #fox mulder imagine #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #fox mulder x yn #fox mulder x y/n #fox mulder #the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #the x files #x files

[lazycosmos]

Lazy in Space Thoughts Pt.2                     Reanimated

Hey all! I recently watched the reanimated eps of Bee and Puppycat on Netflix and wanted to share.

Spoilers and all under the cut! 🐝 🐾

I really loved getting to see the older episodes reanimated in the newer style, the colors were spectacular! And I liked that they actually tried to set things up earlier like showing some of Bee’s dad, the ship under the ocean, and the ‘hands’. I also enjoyed seeing some new locations and outfits for Bee though, I hate to say I’m once again left with some mixed feelings

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

While it was nice seeing the newer style, the characters at times looked a little off? I don’t know if it’s because of the style but so often everyone looked off model. Deckard’s design stood out the most to me. Also sometimes the facial expressions weren’t as exaggerated in the style as much as it could’ve been

idk maybe it’s just me

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

The episodes were rushed overall, so much was skimmed over and it seemed they only did that to shove other plot threads in from season 2 that already existed. In the 2nd reanimated episode, ‘who would want this’, Bee just has the gum randomly, they barely set up Bee’s dislike of water, and it doesn’t really end with her bonding a bit with Puppycat like before (he neither helps with the farm or saves Bee from the cats in the bathhouse).

Then reusing the video game temp job from Bee’s birthday in the original for a montage sequence in ‘who would want this’ actually made me a little sad. It felt so hollow when that was an episode I really enjoyed and related to Bee--her doing all the sidequests to distract from things she didn’t want to deal with and because it felt good to be good at something. Which is instead replaced with her making perfect donuts in the 3rd reanimated ep ‘What do you want to be?” by doing basically nothing...

Also in that ep she says she ALWAYS goes to the arcade for her birthday when in the original she didn’t like to do anything on her birthday because of the memories it brought up about her dad (and possibly her being sick). The moment between Bee and Deckard when she finds out he was leaving was also toned down and had so little emotional impact compared to the original. That was one of my favorite scenes and it felt like nothing here.

I found myself barely relating to Bee at all in this. and she emotes/reacts waaay less than before and lacks in dialogue a bit. Also Bee and Deckard’s relationship seemed watered down too. I didn’t get the idea that they’d known each other for years, it was written like they were casual friends instead. He didn’t even know when her birthday was in this.

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

Then Deckard and Cass just accept Cardamon being the landlord?? They only question it once and then start asking a CHILD to check out the house and kick out Toast??? It was so weird

Speaking of Cardamon, I don’t know why  the emotional moments with him and his mom were so toned down when they a chance to do more with it. I think they could’ve showed a little more of how he struggled or why he has no caretaker. It’s just acknowledged that he’s alone once and then forgotten. I would’ve taken more of that than a pointless ‘origin story’ of how he ran into Sticky.

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

Puppycat’s character got some of the worst of it imo. he’s way more destructive and a jerk this time around for some reason? Somehow less fleshed out than before. I’m not sure what they were trying to get at with him. I was also confused at him not minding being a ‘pet’ when before he absolutely detested it and was often destructive because of others treating him like one or him frustrated not being able to do certain things. There were also sooo little moments between him and Bee that their relationship wasn’t built much.

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

So many of the jokes and memorable dialogue were lost too here and there. I was kinda disappointed to not have the “You took too long, now yo candy’s gone. That’s what happens--BAKOW!” Or “IM SHOVIN THE CROTCH ICE UNDER THE DOOR” Those were so much more memorable to me and some friends and I still quote stuff from Season 1 to this day lol

even gags like Puppycat mindlessly floating into Cardamon’s living room to watch Pretty Patrick in season 1 was gone

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

At the end, I was left with a sort of shallow reimagining of Bee and Puppycat Season 1 with certain plot threads and moments haphazardly spread about only to service Season 2. :( idk, maybe I just sort of hoped for a little more since they went through all the effort to reanimate it all? Guess I didn’t expect to have as similar disappointments as I did with Season 2. Anyway, feel free to share your thoughts, at least I’ll have some more lovely screenshots for you all! 🐝 💛 🐝

#bee and puppycat #bapc #bee and puppycat lazy in space #lazy in space #bee and puppycat netflix #bee and puppycat season 2

[jehovahhthickness]

Hova, I am freaking out. I am an emotional wreck. I hope that you & your followers don’t judge me for what I’m about to share.. I just really need someone to listen & somewhere safe to express my feelings/concerns. I’m having a very difficult time processing all of this alone.

I found out Wednesday that I have HSV 1 & 2. I’m positive I know exactly who gave it to me..

A few months ago, I traveled to my home state to visit friends & family over the summer.. Well, I ended up meeting someone through a good friend of mine. He was very kind, funny & handsome so I started really liking him. We talked a lot, went on dates & had a lot of fun out & about. It felt like such a solid & magnetic connection.. We started to spend a lot of time together. It had been almost 2 years of no sex, so I figured I would have some fun.. Which now has turned into a nightmare for me.. I wish I had never gotten involved with this man.. Had I known this outcome would bring me sexual trauma for the rest of my life… Mentally & physically.

I never experienced any cold sores, genital sores, tingling, burning or any symptoms of HSV.. So I never would have thought I had it if I hadn’t gone to my routine woman’s well check earlier this week, got tested & found out. The only thing I noticed recently that makes me suspect it was him was a cluster of small fluid filled bumps on the side of my left middle finger not long after we were intimate. I’ve been on google reading about HSV & I read something called “herpetic whitlow.” It says it’s usually by the nail bed, but I saw some pics towards the middle of the finger that looked similar to what I had going on. I brushed it off thinking maybe it was a burn or something else. I had no clue it could be HSV so I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Now I am very worried because my toddler developed a rash shortly after. He had a few bumps similar to mine on his arm like 3 fluid filled bumps. Then another rash on his groin. (Not his genitals, but on one side of his inner thigh/groin area.) It says whitlow is very contagious & now I’m very very afraid that I could have passed this onto him. Especially changing diapers since it was on my finger & I did not have a band aid on.. Even holding him, a kiss or sharing a cup? It did clear up fairly quickly. He didn’t seem to experience any sort of discomfort. No fever, irritability, crying. It went away on its own & hasn’t returned since I noticed it around September. Although, I’m thinking the worst & also worried it may come back. I am so scared & upset. I just want to make sure that he is okay, but I’m nervous about taking him into the doctor because what if they accuse me of sexual abuse? Then I risk legal problems because of a possible virus on my finger. Maybe I’m just paranoid & overthinking & he’s fine? Google feels more unreliable than ever. Each website has different information & I don’t know what’s true & what’s not.

I wish this never happened. I’m so stressed, depressed, embarrassed, ashamed & angry. My anxiety won’t let me relax thinking I’ve passed this on without meaning to. I feel fucking awful.

Thank you for listening.

Please, please, please use protection guys :(

- Sincerely, one devastated mama..

I want to reassure you that herpes is so fricking common and not lethal to the point that the stigma that’s attached to it is worse than the actual condition itself.

Literally most folks have either both herpes 1 & 2 and have NO idea that they do.

Just me kissing a dude on the mouth and letting him giving me head will give me genital herpes. It is what it is tbh.

Or you could suck on your own finger and masturbate right afterwards can lead to you getting it as well.

You didn’t do anything wrong. This could’ve happened to anyone.

Also, just go to the doctor and explain exactly what you just said to me, CALMLY and it will be fine.

I know you’re pissed, upset and very disappointed in yourself. But you are doing okay, babe.

I can reassure you that you have nothing to panic about. If it was something else, I would be more concern. But it’s just herpes.

As far as your future sexual partners … anyone that’s educated with functioning brain cells won’t trip over it.

[khaleesiofalicante]

The finals are over, and I did proofread the paper! And I was pretty proud of how I did it. It was a very interesting paper about anti-colonialist movements. But now that I am free, here are the Lily updates. In list form, categories and everything 

Lillys chaotic dreams: I wanted to start with the completely what the fuck things first. So let me tell you about this dream I had in which there were demon fights, but somewhere in the middle of the dream was like a mini commercial break or some thing, and it was Shrek and regulus black on a date in a Burger King. It is a Pairing that has boggled my mind, but my friends think I should write fanfiction about it because it’s just so out there that it would be a just a chaos move.

Lillys love life: I have a girlfriend now. and she is lovely. But also chaotic gay moment, we’ve gone out to get cookies, and on the box she put happy first kiss day. And then we went to my parents house and spent the night over there, and I left the box downstairs with the writing facing out, thankfully my mom didn’t notice, and if she did she did not say anything, which leads me to believe she didn’t notice because my moms always saying something about some thing.  but I was still in a panic that whole rest of the day because I was going to be going on a plane with my mom for the next four hours, and I did not want to be confronted. I didn’t have a good enough excuses prepared yet.

Lily’s performance opportunities: I will be finally accomplishing my dream of performing at a diner. There’s a music festival happening in the city, and I applied to perform, and two places got back to me about performances. It’s going to be the first time I’ve done a live performance in about two years maybe and I am so excited. I’m still trying to make my Setlist, but it is slowly but surely coming together. If you ever have any recommendations, feel free to send them my way. I’m also trying to decide if I want any of my originals on the list, and if so do I want them to be fully finished, or just giving people a peek on the things that I’ve written to see if it even goes over well with others. I DK, I’m very insecure about my songwriting so I’m quite hesitant with sharing it with others, especially at a performance venue

The negatives: mental health has been honestly decline recently, I did start going to therapy which was pretty good, although it did unbury some past traumas that I quite forgot about which has not been quite fun to relive. I also lost one of my best friends of like nine years, we were growing apart, and it led to some really toxic situations, and we also just realize things about each other from the past that we’ve done to each other that were kind of fucked up. And I just think that we really brought out some of the worst qualities in each other as much as we helped each other grow, and that’s just a very hard thing to wrap your head around, that’s some thing could’ve been so special and precious and have helped you out of some difficult times, and yet has left you with so many scars and have not always been the healthiest situation to be in. I also had a family member going to the hospital which was quite terrifying because he’s been declining in health recently, and he was a family member that practically helped raise me, so I just end up becoming very worried win his health gets worse. Also, I was going to go study abroad in the Netherlands in the fall, and almost everything had been prepared, and then the school got back to me saying that they didn’t think that they could be accessible to my blindness which really sucked because I’ve been excited. But also, it’s one of the times where I was explicitly told that I could not do some thing that I’ve been dreaming of doing for a while simply because I was blind, and it’s a shitty fucking feeling because it’s not the first time, but it’s one of the most obvious. So yeah, I’ve really been trying to look at the really great things that have been happening in my life, but it’s been kind of difficult.

Lillys bad bitch behavior: I did a bike ride through all five New York City boroughs. That was like 45 miles at least, and it felt great.

Lily’s job: I’m going to be a diversity equity and inclusion intern at a bank, so that’s exciting. I’m very curious how much they are actually committed to the work because I worked in that field at my school this semester, and they are quite horrible at it, and so are most other places that claim that they are committed to diversity and inclusion in the workplace. But, I am hoping for the best, especially based on some of the stories they’ve told.

Things Dani should be proud of: I went on vacation, twice. Lily taking breaks? I know it sounds insane, but it happened. Like I mentioned, I started going to therapy. It started off at school counseling, but I’m looking into some stuff for the summer. We are working on self healing this year.

That’s probably not it, but that’s all I can think of. I hope that you have been taking care of yourself, and ILY!

PS: it’s almost my birthday, and as reparations for IALS, I think you should start thinking of a Mavid Royalty snippet… Just saying.

@noah-herondale-lightwood here you go in case I didn’t mention any of these updates in our messages.

CONGRATS ON FINISHING FINALS. I HOPE YOU ARE TREATING YOURSELF NOW.

Your dreams are truly something else.

Lovely to see you and your girl are going strong. Sending more love your way!

I'm so so excited about the live performance opportunities! Let me know how it goes, yeah? A song rec for you to consider: Love Letter by Anthony Lazaro & Sarah Kang. I think you will like it.

I'm sorry to hear about your mental health but I'm so proud of you for going to therapy and being so fucking self-aware about it. Therapy is never easy. Making yourself vulnerable and confronting your trauma is even worse. It takes so much courage and strength to do that. Keep holding onto that strength and courage. I'm wishing the best for you and hope more study-abroad opportunities come your way. Keep applying for more! Always.

BIKE RIDES IN NEW YORK? THAT'S BAD BITCH INDEED.

A gentle reminder that I don't need a list of things to be proud of you but thank you for sharing it anyway. I'm very proud indeed.

PS - Bold of you to assume I'm not always thinking of Mavid royalty au. Hope you had a beautiful and memorable birthday 💙

#lilypad

[miriacobusiuvenis-youtube]

Traphouse Tea & Haunted Homes

This may be the biggest rant of all time I’ve had with YouTube as the core focus. I wanna preface this with I first found this whole group through the abandoned mall video on Elton’s TFIL channel, and I loved the opportunity he brought to this group and how he pushed everyone outside of the comfort zone without putting them in their panic zone as I consider it. Do I think some of the shit they did was stupid? Absolutely. Some of the shit they did was absolutely insane, but as we’ve seen what Sam and Colby do now, the more you think you are above it, the more you remind anything that you are above it, the last power things have. As I will go on to reference, in Corey and Aaron’s podcast, the less you give it credit, the less you talk about it and more you ignore it, the less power it has.

I think it is so stupid how these boys handled so many of their issues, whether that be with each other, with ghosts, or whatever else you might be able to think of, and I’m gonna go through the issues they could’ve solved and my issue with how they talk about them one by one.

1. Ouija Boards, Belief In Ghosts/Spirits, Treatment of Spirits, ETC.

Of course, as the group was younger, they did a lot of stupid things. A couple of things that Aaron specifically mentions in their podcast: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EOkjnCFdT28&list=WL&index=15

include Sam’s 3 A.M. challenges, Colby placing the Ouija board on his chest, Elton getting his blood on the Ouija board, Jake buying the Dybbuk box and the doll. Are all of this things really stupid? Yes, absolutely, but if anyone notices, in almost all of these situations, I don’t recall anyone getting hurt at any point. There was no insane scratches or possessions or anything like that. I have a theory on this that I’ll talk about in a moment, but I first wanna point out Aaron’s own lack of regard for the way to solve their haunting. Him and Corey both! They talk for like thirty minutes about how they’re still experiencing hauntings and strange events, but yet, are eager to jump at the next investigation. They’re eager to go somewhere else that’s haunted and possible find something else to follow them home? It’s ignorant. It also bothers me that they instantly go on to point out these instances of their friends possibly “going too far”. It makes no sense, they’re acting just like the others! If you’re going to be mad at your friends for possibly bringing something in to their own lives yet refuse to do anything to help yourself or fix the problem you’re facing (despite the fact that Sam and Colby both have taken precautions to remove anything especially in their most recent videos showing them praying and even telling spirits they’re not allowed to follow them, etc.) then I feel like that’s just rude. That’s not fair and completely refutes anything you could be talking about with these things bothering you or these things upsetting you. If it truly unsettled or bothered you, you’d be finding a way to fix it. I also find it super annoying they’re talking about things following them but how the people who get the house next are fucked. Like, um, I think they’ll be fine judging from the fact that you’re still being haunted. Anyway, my theory... Aaron and Corey even mention that at the end of living in the house, the less they talked about it, the less it happened. The less they mentioned it, the less they fed into it, the less they experienced it. Which means, they’re just feeding into it now that they’re out of the house and again showing a complete lack of disregard for what they claim to be worried about. I also find it funny the two who seem to believe the most before the Queen Mary are the only ones struggling with hauntings after the fact. Elton never fed into any of this ghost stuff and even now takes a very disrespectful stance towards spirits, which in my mind makes him the worst kind of target for a spirit. He reminds me of Zak Bagan, which isn’t a compliment. It’s actually really bad. Jake has said repeatedly he’s extremely skeptic but even now just doesn’t really care for ghost content, so again, similarly to Elton. He doesn’t believe, the worst kind of target for a spirit. Sam and Colby before Queen Mary were the same way, disbelieving. Sam was going through all this trouble in some attempt to prove something to be real in his mind. Colby was a bit more cautious, but I feel like Sam’s attitude rubbed off on him a bit. After the fact, you see them now taking proper precautions, reminding spirits they are not to follow them home, praying for spirits to find their peace, etc. They remind me of the original Ghost Hunters show, honestly, treating the spirit world with respect, keeping their distance from things that aim to hurt them, and searching just... for answers. Which brings me back to Aaron and Corey, and this one I’m not too sure on recent times. I know Aaron did a couple investigations with Elton and made it a bigger joke than Elton liked (Just what I’ve heard?) I know Corey after claiming he was so afraid and was done with paranormal stuff for his own safety has jumped to join Elton on all of his investigations. Maybe it’s the attitude Elton has, I don’t know, but it’s ironic to me that the two people who were so scared and worried have done absolutely nothing to help themselves while everyone else around them has (at least as far as I know, please feel free to correct me). This is also spread out over so many years, it’s hard to judge, but looking back it frustrates me.

2. Childish Drama, Living Situations, Changing Dynamics

As mentioned in the earlier paragraph, I definitely feel like everyone’s content has changed over the years, and it makes sense that some of them don’t film together anymore. Honestly, I don’t think Elton would film with Sam and Colby even without the petty tweets Elton has sent out and whatever might’ve happened behind the scenes just because of how he treats the spirit world. He even called them out in the description of his video for wanting to take their content a different direction than him. I’m sorry sir, how old are you? Grow the hell up. Clearly they are taking their content in a different direction just from how they treat spirits. They’ve always been more careful than you have, are you really surprised? I mean, I can’t find the source for this anywhere, but there’s a reason they’ve been to the Conjuring House TWICE, and you’re banned from there. The one thing I was really surprised to see was Elton and Jake filming together, but I suppose it makes sense, especially seeing the shit ton of content Jake and Corey filmed together for awhile. Speaking of Jake and Corey, I heard there was some tea with them and Sam and Colby because of something, and I still haven’t learned exactly what yet, but something to do with their uneasiness with what they were doing in the house the two boys owned and that power dynamic between them as landlord/tenant versus just friends living together? That’s kind of dumb in my mind, because I guarantee that could’ve been solved by a simple conversation and setting of ground rules. Like, if Sam and Colby truly were the landlord because they owned the house, then I feel like it’s completely in their right to set ground rules and things not to do, but they needed to do that as soon as it started rather than letting it carry on (that is, if they didn’t do that already. I don’t know). And ultimately, Jake and Corey needed to respect that and either move out or stay and follow the rules. Maybe that’s what happened, I don’t know, but I don’t feel like that’s something to be pissed about. That’s kind of what a landlord does? You all talked about how disgusting the old house was and how you literally had black mold growing. It’s kind of the landlord’s job to prevent that from happening which would’ve been just what Sam and Colby were doing. Anyway, I feel like that whole situation should’ve been rather easy for them to just sit down and resolve. And again, maybe they did, but it really doesn’t seem like it judging from the fact that Corey and Jake film with Elton and Elton clearly isn’t talking to the boys. I really wish we could’ve seen Jake go to maybe some of the cooler more true crime-ish places, even if just to give the boys a rundown on the history. But... Clearly, I don’t see that happening. But, back to Elton and how he’s not talking to the boys. Again, maybe he is, but I highly doubt that. After making several shady YouTube comments and low blow tweets, I honestly don’t understand what crawled up this man’s ass and died. Like, why are two mid-twenty year-olds causing you this much stress my dude. Why does it matters who did what when? Why does it matter if they’re doing a bucket list. There are so many YouTube channels based around bucket lists, and Sam and Colby did it for like... a season on their channel. I’m sure you can part with the idea for a single season. I don’t understand how you can go from calling these boys your nephews in a tweet one month to acting as if they don’t exist three months later, or to saying that they’re copying you five months later. I don’t understand this switch up, and that’s what kills me the most. Like, what happened to bringing them the best experience of their life? What happened to pushing them to try new things and live life to the fullest? Now it just feels like you’re trying to live your life a little bit more than they are, and like... it’s not a competition. Since when did this turn into a competition of who can live their life more? Since when is ghost investigation content owned by any one specific person. I mean, fuck, you don’t see the Ghost Hunters claiming the Ghost Adventures crew stole their idea, do you? (I am gonna feel really dumb if that actually happened, but... oops). Since when did you become so off-put at the idea of Sam and Colby doing what makes them happy, dude? Of course they’re going to the same areas as you, you guys are doing fucking ghost investigations! There’s only so many top ten most haunted places in America! There’s only so many places in the world to go see! I could talk in circles for hours about this, but it’s just so... frustrating and confusing. I don’t get it, Elton, dude, please, wtf.

3. Summary

All in all, I feel like everyone has kind of acted a bit selfishly and ignorant over the past couple of years, and ultimately disrespectfully to the others. I completely understand and know I could be entirely off on all of this, and maybe they’re still the best of friends, and I wish we could know that for sure. I really wish we could just know that they’re all on good terms, because I fell in love watching these guys sneak into a fucking bowling alley and ruin the lanes. I fell in love with the adventure they found fucking running from cops and exploring the world together. I fell in love watching them laugh at stupid dick jokes or scream at random noises. The way they talked about what they brought into each others’ lives was something I wanted to have so bad in my friend group, especially having found them at such a rough time in my life. I just wish I could have a solid answer on if they still do that sometimes, you know? And again, I understand I don’t deserve that, and I may never get it, but I just keep hoping maybe one day...

#sam golbach #colby brock #elton castee #corey scherer #aaron doh #jake webber #sam and colby #traphouse #trap house #TFIL #the fuck it list