#tell me your secrets puppet girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smileysuh · 9 months

Text

nct frat masterlist - the complete works

Me:

find a complete list of my nct frat fics below the cut... for science

Christmas Puppy

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “God, you’re so jealous,” you laugh. Your best friend’s brother doesn’t usually act this way, at his frat, everyone knows you’re his, no one would dare come near you- but here, in your hometown, surrounded by past crushes and would be romancables, it’s open season, and it’s clear that it’s making Jaehyun uncomfortable.

tw/cw. multiple sex scenes, airplane sex, best friend's brother Jae touching reader while his sister is drunk/asleep next to them, fingering, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dirty talk, praise, slight stalking/use of snapmaps to obsess over a crush, jealousy, unprotected sex, Jae is a munch, sibling antics, 'loser' jae, exhibitionism, directed masturbation, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (his) puppy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 11k

Send In The Clowns

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark & Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k

Ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15k

Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.(Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

Sandwich

🌙 staring. Jaehyun & Jungwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. He watches Jungwoo kiss you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around, announcing to the world ‘my good luck charm ducky baby!’ and if Jaehyun didn’t love his roommate so much, he’d have barfed at the sickly sweetness of it all… Or maybe from the jealousy. But he’d never admit that to himself.

cw/ tw. threesome, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, shower sex, spit roasting, praise, inklings of hand/size kink, deep throating/choking, oral, etc... I petnames. (pretty) duck/ducky

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 11.6k

Roommates

🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. as Jungwoo's best friend, you have your pick of fratboys to date, including Jeno, who has a huge crush on you. But you're only attracted to Lee's that come in pairs, and you can't get roommates Mark and Hyuck off your mind.

cw/ tw. drug use (weed), threesome, pet names: baby & kitten, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, oral (f/m receiving), hand job, anal, double penetration, unprotected sex, edging, body worship, cumplay/creampie, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

Impaled

🌙 staring. Jeno & Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. your soccer star boyfriend decides to skip practice to spend some time with you, unfortunately, his frat brother roommate walks in on it.

cw/ tw. big dick Jeno, unprotected sex, mentions of toys, cock warming, boob worship, boob massage, anal, praise, possessive!Jeno, vouyer!haechan, threesome, hyuck calls reader ‘miss y/n’ cuz he’s a hoe, bickering, soft dom jeno, creampies, cumplay, coconut oil lube, squirting, spanking, dirty talk, ‘you’re gay’ ‘no you’re gay’, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4.1k

The V Week Spy

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan, Jungwoo, Jeno & Johnny

🔮 synopsis. Every year, seven days before Valentines day, sororities and frats are paired together, and eligible himbos, hoes, bimbos and fuckboys alike volunteer to be raffled for a chance to become the year’s V Week Spy. V Week is open season, with outings and parties tailored to be the perfect excuse for sexscapades, with the knowledge than 1 boy and 1 girl are undercover, grading sexual performances. Once the week is over, at the annual Valentines Day Party, the evaluations are presented- It’s a bad time to be unsure about someone’s feelings towards you, and an even worse time to fall in love.

cw/ tw. multiple smut scenes, fingering, oral (f receiving), mentions of mirror kink, lots of sexual implications, dry humping, boob worship, corruption kink, dacryphilia, service dom, dirty talk, praise, dom/sub themes, ‘service dom’, thigh riding, unprotected sex, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 20.1k

Sunday Kind Of Love

🌙 staring. Mark x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. Mark is fine with having a crush on the girl in the library. He’s fine watching her from afar. And he’s fine with never speaking a word to the girl who he spends many nights chasing in his dreams. But fate, and a few nosey frat brothers, think Mark would be much better if he was forced to talk to the cute girl from the library that he can’t seem to get out of his head.

cw/tw. inexperienced/soft reader, frat nct, extreme pining, tooth hurting sweetness, the softest boy in the world, a love so pure it’s going to hurt you, oral (f/m receiving), dry humping, tiddie worship, multiple orgasms, switchy/no bdsm role Mark, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 35.8k I frat au

Bunny

🌙 staring. Lucas x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. The boys of NCT house are back on their bullshit again, playing match maker, but this time, they have their sights set on Lucas, and they think you, his best friend in the entire world, just happen to be his perfect match. Too bad you’re already having fun with Yuta, and have your sights set on Jungwoo, looks like they’re not only going to have to turn Lucas’s head, but yours as well.

cw/ tw. multiple sex scenes, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), threesome with Yuta, mentions of sex with Jungwoo, so much sex talk, size kink Lucas, Lucas’s dragon tattoo, semi public sex, teasing, masturbation, voyeurism?, unprotected sex, spanking, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 13.5k I frat au

Team Captain

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis.Jaehyun is a notorious lady killer. He’s captain of the soccer team and everyone on campus wants him… except for you, Yuta’s best friend. A camping trip featuring some of the rowdiest members of the frat ends in drinks and a game of truth or dare, there’s laughs, horny men, and way too much pining to be healthy, just another day with NCT House.

cw/ tw. lots of shenanigans in the frat, lots of dirty talk, finger sucking, Haechan exposing secrets, semi-exhibitionist/public sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), switch x dom(switch)power dynamic, multiple orgasms, choking, biting, pet names, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k I frat au

Baby Face

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. You and Haechan have been enemies ever since highschool, when debates between you in class would get heated. Now, you’re in a sorority and he’s in your brother frat, NCT House. Trivia nights are supposed to be fun at the campus bar but you and Haechan always take it personally, and your friends see the sexual tension, even if you and Haechan don’t. Johnny and Jaehyun concoct plans to force you and Haechan interact, frat boys lie, and even if Haechan gets you on your back, you’re never going to stop calling him the nickname he hates so much: “baby face”.

cw/ tw. lots of competition, high key GAMER HYUCK, dom leaning switch Haechan, oral (f/r receiving), pet names, slight degradation, angst, unprotected sex, fingering, BIG DICK HAECHAN, dumbification, body worship, he refers to himself as daddy once or twice, etc..

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.4k I frat au

Lesson

🌙 staring. Lucas & Doyoung x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. Lucas finds out that the word around the frat is he can’t make girls cum. You’re Doyoung’s fuck buddy and he thinks you’re the perfect girl to teach Lucas about the female orgasm.

cw/ tw. threesome, 69-ing, oral (m/f receiving), fingering, face riding, dom!Doyoung, Switch Reader, Switch Lucas, sex without a condom, Vouyerism, pet names, scratching, whiney Lucas, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.5k I frat au

Set Up

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. Johnny is never rude to anyone. which is why your four frat friends, Doyoung, Taeyong, Mark and Haechan think it’s so odd that you clash heads with the six foot Chicago native. Lucas has a secret, your friends try to play match maker, and you get sabotaged on multiple occasions, but it’s just another week at the frat.

cw/ tw. frat nct, lots of shenanigans in the frat, the boys act as match makers with powerpoints, jokes about Mark having a mommy/daddy kink... MEAN Johnny, Dom!Johnny, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hand cuffs, sex without a condom (wrap it when you tap it), big boy Johnny, man handling, pet names, im not going to lie this was completely self indulgent fic- English major Johnny- mentions of Jane Austen as a date idea, Himbo Light Tower, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.4k I frat au

find the rest of my masterlist here

can ya'll believe this is over 150 thousand words of content

If you include Home - which is frat au post frat - it's closer to 187k words, which make up over 20% of my 872k of content

2K notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 10 months

Text

Imagine the 3.8 Secret Summer Paradise event but with Wanderer and you. Nahida sends Wanderer to investigate something in the desert and you tag along for fun but you two get sucked into a magic bottle somehow?! Klee dubs his title as the “Sorcerer” - her mage sidekick - and yours as the “Soldier” - her protecter! (Or whatever you want, I’m bad at this.)

The rollercoasters are nothing compared to Wanderer’s flights of fright. He will do loops, twists, turns, upside downs in the air all while holding YOU… at least in the rollercoaster there are seats. Klee is amazed by your endurance and wants to try flying too! (Wanderer reluctantly gives her a piggy back ride and flies a safe distance up from the ground… Kaeya’s watching him very carefully, but you vehemently reassure him that Wanderer would never hurt a child. The cavalry captain actually grows to like him!) Though you manage to convince Wanderer to ride a slow rollercoaster with you. There’s no one else in the Choo-Choo Cart, and it’s late at night. Wanderer lays on your lap as you play with his hair, the both of you silent as you stare out the window, taking in the lovely sights of this realm.

Idyia’s quite scared of Wanderer at first but overtime she comes to fawn over and admire how deep your love is, she’s met many people in her little bottle, but no one has ever had a relationship like yours! Not to mention, Zosimos takes inspiration from the two of you for his characters. And speaking of plays, I think despite the fact the one the group acted out had poor plot, Wanderer finds joy in it, because I believe he likes the arts/dance/performances, and also he found Klee’s acting endearing. (When Kaeya runs out of stories for her, Wanderer takes over and tells her Inazuman folktales!)

Collei is extremely nervous speaking to Wanderer, but finds herself liking him more than she expected. She feels like she can… relate to him, for some strange reason? She doesn’t really understand, since she’s never met him before, but she doesn’t question it. Plus, she knows you’re a really nice person, so you wouldn’t date someone who’s mean, anyway. Eula is suspicious of him at first too, but seeing Collei warm up to him makes her tolerate him, while Kokomi finds the stranger very interesting. She has a few chats with Wanderer, and the things he says about Inazuma has her only more curious. The most important part is, Klee wants to be the flower girl at your wedding, whenever that happens.

Moving on, Wanderer has a soft spot for the Hydro Eidolons because they remind him a bit of the Aranara. He acts all annoyed when they want to play hide and seek with him but secretly he enjoys it (and you’re enjoying his fervent denial at being soft.) You two play all of the games together, although Wanderer is less enthusiastic about it than you (as usual of course) but he actually enjoys Bing-Bang Finchball! :3 (He wonders if his creator and that kitsune would like it, too.) Most of all, Wanderer especially enjoys the solitude he gets at certain places of the realm. Sometimes you’re with him, sometimes you’re not, but when you are, during these moments he’s oddly quiet and clingy. Sometimes he still struggles to accept his life and what he’s been through. But making memories like these with you make him happy.

At the end of your stay, when you have to bury a treasure to leave behind, you put in two dolls of Wanderer and you that you quickly made in the mirage! (Wanderer had taught you how to make them that nicely.) You didn’t show your lover at first, a bit embarrassed and scared of his reaction, but he found out anyway and sighed, but pulled down his hat to cover his blush. He flew you to a beautiful spot with the best view, and you two buried it together. You wonder if it would still be there if you ever visited again.

Even after many years pass, Idyia never fails to tell the engrossing tale of the grouchy puppet and his darling lover, an unlikely but loving couple. Maybe if you’re lucky, you could meet them spending their days strolling the streets of Sumeru with the young Archon.

Overall, an unplanned but very necessary vacation that Wanderer needed. Nahida had a blast listening to all of your stories! (And happy he has made some more friends, which he of course denies that accusation.)

#smooches talks #can you see my need to push wanderer into everything possible #(i love him)#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #scaramouche #wanderer #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

773 notes · View notes

am-i-interrupting · 1 month

Note

If you're still taking requests, can we get hazbin characters react to you asking them to dom you one night? Preferably the women but do it for whoever you'd like

Fuck. I just realized after I posted I read this wrong. I will do the correct one. I promise. I’m so sorry. I mixed up some words. Processing problems and all. This is:

Reaction to You Doming

(Part two— the boys)

Lute

She is resistant at first.

She shuts it down almost immediately.

It’s more so in a flustered way than a rude way.

She just sort of gets up, puts her hands up in surrender, and shakes her head as she walks away muttering, “No, no, absolutely not,” underneath her breath.

It takes her a while to build up enough trust and confidence in your relationship to allow you to dom no matter how much she may want or fantasizes about it.

Trust me, she fantasizes about it.

She’ll wake you up in the middle of the night whimpering in her sleep, telling you she’s been a good girl.

Or you’ll wake up with her having placed your hand somewhere on her body as she gets herself off, pleading for you to let her come.

Then, several weeks or maybe even months later. Maybe you’re in public, maybe you’re not but she’ll just casually walk by you and say, “You can dom tonight.”

She walks away before you can even process what she just said.

When you come home, she pulls you into a kiss immediately as she walks you both to the bedroom.

“Let’s talk about this first.” “Later. Please. I just— I need you to let me come and be your good girl.”

It’s clear she’s already partially in a sub space.

Not wanting to overstep her boundaries, you stick to doing just that.

You move so she’s laying with her back against your chest, her hands wrapped around your neck as you play with her clit and kiss her neck, whispering what a good girl she is as she whines.

When she’s close she starts muttering about how she wants you to make her take it.

You hold her legs spread out as she shakes and writhes.

Eventually you get to talk to her and set clearer boundaries but for now, she’s out of breath, panting against your skin, and slumping down into the safety of your embrace.

Rosie

Your sex with Rosie is by no means anything vanilla beforehand, it’s just Rosie didn’t have the terms to describe it.

Having come from a time where sex was not spoken of and was very much just a situation where the woman gives and man takes, she didn’t have any proper sex education.

After she does some research, she realizes what category your sex life thus far has fallen into.

She’s sort of taken on the role of a service too, guiding you, praising you, putting your needs before her own and expecting little in return.

She’ll gladly explore this with you.

She buys books on the subject, looks at all the resources she can.

She learns a lot and is nearly giddy with excitement each time she comes across something she thinks either of you will like.

She has a whole notebook filled with words, phrases, descriptions, and even gear that’s highlighted and underlined.

It’s not secret that Rosie is one for a bit of pain play. You’ve walked out of the bedroom covered in bite marks and hickies many times.

What she didn’t know was how much she’d be into knife play.

She never thought to bring a knife into the bedroom when her teeth and nails worked just fine but if you hold a knife against her throat, oh, she just melts.

She will just lean against you as you make her take her pleasure while whispering such soft works into her ear, in such contrast with the sharp knife against her neck.

If you bind her and give her oral? She will be nearly unresponsive with pleasure.

She does still live to please you.

She thrives when you guide her down to where you want.

You can basically puppeteer her, she’s so responsive.

She loves to worship you with her tongue and teeth.

She enjoys marking you as much as she loves being marked up in return.

Vaggie

“Oh, yeah, um, sure. We can. . . We can try that.”

Vaggie is sort of always flustered by the conversation of sex. She has no problems or qualms adoring you but when it comes to sex, she gets tongue tied.

She has a hard time expressing herself sometimes in any manner but especially when it comes to sex.

She’s much more confident and comfortable with giving to you than receiving.

It’s very much a situation where she feels embarrassed, like an imposter, getting love and lust from you.

When she’s between your thighs, she’s in a place even better than heaven.

She loves to give you pleasure with you explicitly guiding her.

She squirms when the roles are reversed though and you’re pleasing her.

When she tops, she normally gets herself to come with her own fingers or there’s a toy that’s being used. Rarely is it you and your fingers, your mouth, your touch that makes her come when she tops purely because she’s too embarrassed.

She tries to hide her face, muffle her voice.

She gets very whiny and flushed when you don’t let her.

Feeling seen by you makes her feel vulnerable and it’s not that she doesn’t want to be vulnerable with you, she just doesn’t know how.

Every time you praise her, she squirms and closes her eyes.

When you get her to look at you while you praise her, get her to look in your eyes, she never comes harder than those times.

She’ll see stars.

Velvette

At first she sort of takes it as a challenge at first.

Don’t go into the sub space.

She doesn’t like being vulnerable. It takes a while.

When you’re trying to please her, she’s going to automatically get into that commanding mode.

It’s not until you make her please you, directing her explicitly that she starts to drop that persona.

There’s something about you telling her explicitly how to tease you that just makes her more receptive to dropping.

Of course, when she’s topping, she will be using the information on how to make you feel the most pleasure against you.

When you do start putting her pleasure on the forefront of your mind, bondage and blindfolds probably have to come out or she will start to be bratty.

She either yanks on the bindings or she just slumps, hanging like a doll.

She will still be bratty no matter what you do though. It’s just a matter of how much.

When she’s giving you oral under your guidance, she will try to tease you.

A slap on her ass is normally enough to get her to stop though, if just momentarily.

If not, she’s reduced to a helpless mess if you start fingering her perky little ass though.

She’s actually big on anal and double penetration, be it vaginal and oral, anal and oral, or vaginal and anal.

She’s a cock slut.

#hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin lute x reader #lute x reader #nsft

160 notes · View notes

dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 6 months

Note

Okay I just watch digital circus because of your post and it was a blast and I love the character and the idea of a scenario came to me

Caine, Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, with an actor reader who loves to play into the adventures and play NPCs to set up the immersion maybe even write up some ideas for Adventures to make things more fun

Anyways have a great day night whatever and thanks for the fun writings

Thank you! Hope I did your ask justice!

Caine, Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x Reader who makes NPCs and writes

Caine

★ He really appreciates your help! It's hard work making up games for everyone to play while taking into account everyone's preferences. No matter how much you protest, he will use each and every idea you come up with.

★ Caine sets up a little studio for you to work in. It's filled with paper, multiple typewriterband all sorts of art supplies. Maybe some clay for you to build some models of a character you want to create?

★ You're NPCs are always great and often end up being a hit with the others. By that I mean the gang tolerates them more than his NPCs. You manage to give them more personally than he could have ever given.

★ If you somehow get Zooble to join in the fun he will congratulate you for doing a good job. His hat is off to you, you did something he thought was impossible. Now only if you could get Zooble to stop trying to swear...

★ I know the NPCs don't have any ai but Gooseworx confirmed that Bubble is a much simpler AI created by Caine. Therefore, he can theoretically make one of your characters come to life.

Pomni

★ At first she thought that the characters you make were real people. Once you told her that they were nothing but glorified puppets she had to question the sentience of everyone she's met so far.

★ You gotta make this girl a therapist. Aside from that it doesn't take her long to start asking questions about why you like to make different characters and stories.

★ She's not as creative as you, doesn't really understand the appeal of creating something like you do. The most she can do is come up with a few names.

★ Despite knowing that they aren't real people, Pomni still apologizes to the NPCs. It's force of habit. Maybe you could add some dialogue for if/when someone apologizes for something?

★ If we're being completely honest, she doesn't really like any of the NPCs. It just feels wrong when she needs to talk to them for something. It's like speaking to one of those robotic pre-recorded messages over the phone.

Jax

★ He's extra mean to the NPCs you make, just because he can. He knows that they can't get offended or upset but he doesn't care. They will be getting pushed into the mud.

★ When you decide to scrap an old character he gladly helps. The moment you say you need to get rid of it he's reaching for the nearest baseball bat. No need to worry about cleaning up 👍

Jax when the NPC starts to annoy him

★ Jax thinks it's funny when you get upset over him being mean to a NPC because you've grown attached to some of them.

★After that he asks you what you plan to make next. Can you blame him for being curious? Jax wants to know what you're planning before anyone else. Don't worry, he can keep a secret.

★ As a "joke" he told you to try and make a NPC that Caine would need to heavily censor. Just to see what the ringmaster would do. Whatever you made that day was thrown into the cellar.

Ragatha

★ She likes to watch you make different characters for certain situations. Caine wants to set up a fishing adventure? Best believe you are making an NPC who's a fisherman to set up the immersion.

★ You might overwork yourself while trying to come up with a game for everyone to play. Ragatha sometimes needs to step in to tell you to take a break. There's no use overworking yourself, go take a break!

★ She really wants everyone to have fun with the adventures you put together. There's no doubt that she loves them. Also she's the first person to yell at Jax for being mean to the NPCs.

248 notes · View notes

naomeii · 4 months

Note

I have an angst to fluff request that's pretty long so I apologize.

Zhongli with a human reader who's his former blacksmith back when he was still an archon. The girl was young but her skills in creating weapons were immaculate so her elder sister sent (more like forced) her to assist him.

Unfortunately, Zhongli was very cold and harsh towards reader even when she tried her best to assist him in any way she can, which caused her to distance herself from him.

The relationship between them ended when she found out that Zhongli kept her sister's murder of her mother, best friend and her (the friend's) husband a secret from her (this was after she killed her sister). Exhausted and furious, she tears into Zhongli who tells her that her friends needed to die in order for her to mature. This angers her even more as she destroys the spear she made for him and leaves.

Sometime during the Archon war, reader ended up getting cursed with longevity during a fight with a god. Many, including Zhongli, thought she had died but unbeknownst to them, she was wandering Tevyat under different aliases.

The two meet again after 500 years when the ex-archon finds her in Liyue. Unsurprisingly, she treats him coldly which upsets him.

The two finally reconcile after reader is saved by Zhongli after nearly dying. When she accuses him of only saving her life just to make himself feel better and tells him he should've just let her die because she's useless to him anyways, this breaks his heart. It's his fault she hates him. It was because if him she lost her loved ones. He breaks down in tears as he apologizes to her for his cruel actions which causes her to cry as well and forgive him. As the two lay in bed together while in each other's arms, the silence that was once sullen was now peaceful and welcoming.

Renewed Souls.

—Pairings: Zhongli x F!Reader

Content : Suicidal themes, character deaths, Angst to Fluff.

The cavernous echoes of the smithy resonated with the rhythmic clanging of metal. Young (Y/n), a skilled blacksmith, meticulously forged weapons under the watchful eye of Morax, the Geo Archon. Her elder sister had insisted that she assist him, hoping to further her skills and gain favour with the powerful deity.

Morax, however, was a stern and cold taskmaster. He rarely acknowledged her efforts, and when he did, it was often accompanied by a disapproving scowl. Despite her earnest attempts to please him, (Y/n) found herself on the receiving end of his harsh criticism.

One day, as she carefully handed him a newly crafted spear, Morax's expression remained indifferent. "Mediocre at best," he remarked coldly. "You still have much to learn."

(Y/n) bit her lip, suppressing the frustration that threatened to boil over. She had poured her heart and soul into her craft, only to be met with relentless criticism.

Weeks turned into months, and the tension between them only grew. Morax's stoic demeanor never wavered, and (Y/n) began to distance herself emotionally from the callous Archon.

The breaking point came when (Y/n) discovered the painful truth about her family's demise. In a fit of rage, she confronted Morax, her eyes blazing with fury. "You knew!" she accused, tears streaming down her face. "You knew what happened to my mother, my best friend, and her husband, and you kept it from me!"

Morax's gaze remained unwavering, his voice steady. "Their deaths were a necessary sacrifice. A step on the path to maturity."

Enraged, (Y/n) couldn't contain her emotions any longer. "Sacrifice? Is that what you call it?" She tore into him, expressing the anguish that had festered within her. "You played puppet master with my life, and for what? To mold me into your idea of a mature servant?"

Her hands trembled as she clutched the spear she had painstakingly crafted for Morax. "I won't be a part of this any longer!" With a swift and powerful motion, she shattered the weapon against the cold stone floor.

The once-immaculate spear now lay broken, mirroring the fractured relationship between the blacksmith and the Geo Archon. (Y/n) turned on her heel, leaving the workshop and Morax behind.

Morax just stood there, like a statue, watching (Y/n) storm out of the workshop. His expression remained unmoved, but a flicker of something, perhaps regret, crossed his eyes. He didn't bother to chase after her or offer any words of consolation.

As the door swung shut, Morax was left alone amidst the remnants of shattered metal and fractured trust. The weight of his decisions hung in the air, and for a moment, the stoic facade he always wore seemed to crack ever so slightly. Yet, he made no move to follow her, letting her footsteps fade into the distance.

The workshop, once filled with the sounds of creation, now echoed with the haunting silence of a connection irreparably broken. Morax, the Geo Archon, remained alone, surrounded by the wreckage of a bond he had callously allowed to unravel.

The chaos of the Archon War had gripped Teyvat, and (Y/n) found herself caught in the crossfire during a skirmish with a vengeful god. In the midst of the battle, a malevolent curse was cast upon her, a dark magic that twisted the fabric of time and granted her an unintended boon—immortality.

As the curse took hold, (Y/n) felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, but it came at a cost. The battle raged on, and the once-familiar faces of her comrades blurred into a chaotic maelstrom. Morax, witnessing the apparent demise of his former blacksmith, felt a pang of regret deep within.

In the midst of the chaos, (Y/n) was enveloped in an ethereal glow, her form disappearing from the battlefield. The onlookers, including Morax, believed her to be lost to the cruel grip of the war. Unbeknownst to them, (Y/n) was trapped in a strange state between life and death, her consciousness suspended in an eternal limbo.

The first time she awoke, disoriented and alone, she realized that her surroundings had changed. Teyvat looked both familiar and alien, the passage of time evident in the shifting landscapes. (Y/n) moved through the ages under different aliases, trying to make sense of her cursed existence.

In one era, she roamed as a wandering scholar, sharing her knowledge with those she encountered. In another, she assumed the guise of a skilled artisan, creating masterpieces that would be remembered for centuries. The people she met came and went, their lives fleeting in comparison to her perpetual existence.

Through the ages, Morax continued to mourn the loss of (Y/n), unaware that she still existed in the shadows, watching the world evolve without her. The once-mighty Archon became more introspective, haunted by the memories of the blacksmith he had pushed away during the earlier days of the war.

(Y/n) continued to wander Teyvat, her heart heavy with the weight of the curse that bound her to an unending journey. The war raged on, gods clashed, and nations rose and fell, all while she remained an unseen observer, cursed to witness the passage of time without truly living.

The market in Liyue hummed with activity as (Y/n), now cloaked in a hooded robe, moved through the crowd. Her physical appearance had remained remarkably unchanged over the centuries, but the passage of time had etched a rugged resilience into her features. Her eyes, however, retained a sharpness that betrayed the wisdom and weariness of her immortal existence.

Zhongli, the ex-Archon once known as Morax, had been quietly observing the market, as was his habit in the mortal realm. His keen gaze caught a glimpse of (Y/n) amidst the throng, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes—could it really be her after all these years?

With a newfound determination, Zhongli trailed her through the market, weaving through the lively vendors and animated chatter. As he approached, (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her senses, honed by centuries of survival, detected the persistent presence behind her.

Finally, Zhongli caught up, his voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and hope. "Excuse me, miss. Might I have a moment of your time?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

(Y/n) stiffened, recognising the voice that echoed from a distant past. She turned to face him, her hood casting shadows over her features. "I have no time for idle chatter," she replied coldly, her eyes narrowing.

Zhongli persisted, determined to bridge the gap that had grown between them over centuries. "I sense a familiarity in your aura. Have we met before?"

(Y/n) scoffed, her patience wearing thin. "I've met many in my long existence. Your attempts at recognition are futile. Now, leave me be."

Zhongli, undeterred, continued to follow her, his gaze filled with a quiet desperation. He couldn't shake the feeling that she held the key to a past he had long buried. As they neared the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) sought refuge within its walls, hoping to escape the persistent presence behind her.

Days passed, and Zhongli lingered outside the inn, compelled by an unspoken connection that transcended time. Eventually, he approached her again, hoping for a chance to mend the fractures that had widened between them.

"(Y/n)," he began, using her name from a time when they were closer. "I know you recognize me. Please, let me explain."

(Y/n), her patience exhausted, turned to face him one final time. "Explain? What's there to explain, Morax? You abandoned your godhood, changed your name, and left everything behind. Why should I care about the reasons now? You mean nothing to me."

Zhongli took a breath, ready to speak, but before he could utter a single word, (Y/n) cut him off with a cold and resolute tone.

"I'm not here for apologies, Morax," she interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "I'm here for supplies, nothing more. Once I'm done, I'll be on my way. Don't bother following me or trying to explain. There's nothing left to say."

Zhongli, though pained by her harsh words, nodded in silent acknowledgment. He watched as (Y/n) disappeared into the bustling inn, her figure framed by the doorway. The weight of centuries lingered in the air, and Zhongli remained outside, grappling with the consequences of choices made long ago.

Once alone in the quiet confines of her room at the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) finally allowed the facade of strength to crumble. The weight of centuries pressed down on her, and the pain she had endured for so long spilled over. The tears, held back for centuries, now flowed freely, each drop carrying the anguish of a life that seemed unending.

She sank to her knees, the room silent except for the soft sobs that wracked her body. The weight of loss, betrayal, and the relentless march of time bore down on her, and for a moment, the eternal wanderer felt the crushing weight of her existence.

"I can't take it anymore," she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible through the tears. "I just want it to end."

The memories of her mother, her dear friend, and the life that had been stolen from her replayed in her mind like a haunting melody. The curse of immortality, once a twisted gift, now felt like an unbearable burden.

As the pain intensified, (Y/n) wished for an end to the ceaseless journey, a respite from the loneliness that had become her constant companion. Her cries echoed in the solitude of the room, a desperate plea to a world that seemed indifferent to her suffering.

In the midst of her despair, (Y/n) yearned for reconciliation with those she had lost. The ache for the warmth of a mother's embrace and the laughter of a dear friend intensified. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison echoing with the tormented cries of a soul burdened by the weight of time.

The next day dawned, and (Y/n) moved through the city as if the emotional tempest of the previous night had never occurred. It was her last day in Liyue, and she wandered to a nearby hill, a silent witness to her internal turmoil.

As she stood on the precipice, contemplating the abyss below, the wind whispered tales of countless moments lost to time. In a moment of despair, she let herself fall, surrendering to the void that beckoned. However, just as the precipice became an inevitability, a strong hand gripped her wrist, halting her descent.

Startled, (Y/n) looked up to see Zhongli, his expression a mix of concern and desperation. Accusations formed on her lips, and she spat them out with venom.

"You saved me just to make yourself feel better, didn't you?" she accused, her eyes reflecting the pain that lingered from centuries past. "You should've just let me die. I'm useless to you, just like back then."

Zhongli's grip tightened, but not in restraint. It was a desperate attempt to anchor her to the present. "No, (Y/n), it's not like that. I never meant—"

"Meant? You never appreciated anything I did. You hid the truth about the demise of my loved one just in the name of 'maturity'!" Her words cut through the air, a bitter reminder of the scars he had left on her soul.

Zhongli's eyes welled with tears, the weight of his past actions crashing down on him. "I… I'm sorry," he choked out, the words heavy with regret.

Her anger gave way to a profound sadness, and she felt the tears welling up again. "You should've just let me die in peace," she whispered, her voice a fragile echo of the pain etched into her being.

Zhongli's facade crumbled, and tears streamed down his face. "I never should've treated you that way. It's my fault you hate me. My fault you went through so muc."

As the truth hung heavy in the air, (Y/n) felt a profound exhaustion. The anger, the pain, the centuries of carrying the weight of betrayal—it all seemed too much. Zhongli fell to his knees beside her, reaching out to her in a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice breaking. "I never realized the pain I caused you."

(Y/n) hesitated, her heart torn between the desire for retribution and the weariness of carrying the burden of hatred. Finally, she sighed, the weight of centuries evident in her eyes.

"I'm tired," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. As she finally leaned on him, Zhongli wrapped his arms around her, offering the solace of a shared pain.

"I know, (Y/n)," he murmured, his own tears mingling with hers. "I know."

Days turned into nights, and (Y/n) found herself lingering in Liyue, the city that had been both the stage for her past pain and the unexpected chapter of reconciliation. The wounds of centuries slowly began to heal, stitched together by a newfound understanding and a shared vulnerability.

One evening, as the moon cast a gentle glow through the window, (Y/n) and Zhongli lay side by side, their bodies close yet hearts still mending. The silence that had once been sullen and heavy was now transformed into a peaceful and welcoming embrace.

Zhongli spoke first, his voice carrying the weight of remorse and sincerity. "I never imagined it would come to this," he admitted, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her hand.

(Y/n) sighed, her eyes fixed on the moonlit sky beyond the window. "Neither did I. Centuries of pain and resentment, and now... it feels like a weight has been lifted."

Zhongli nodded, his gaze lingering on her. "I never wanted to be the cause of your suffering. I can't change the past, but I can be better in the present."

(Y/n) turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and forgiveness. "Maybe we can find a way to move forward together. A new beginning, of sorts."

204 notes · View notes

bari-the-witch · 1 year

Text

“Ahoy there, sailor!”

Eddie saunters into Scoops Ahoy like he owns the place, an overly cheerful expression on his face. He nearly panicked again making his way through that blasted mall full of people, and putting on a fake smile is his way of not losing his mind. It’s not the healthiest way Eddie knows but it’s quick and it’ll do for the moment. He can deal with the aftermath of being overwrought later in the confines of his own bedroom.

Fortunately, Steve doesn't seem to notice the fakeness of Eddie’s behavior or notice him at all. He’s too occupied with trying to make the little girl at the counter explode or something if the look on his face is any indication of that.

“Listen, Erica. You can’t come in here every day and demand free samples of every flavor we have, okay? I told you yesterday. And the day before. And every other day of summer until now. So buy something, or leave.”

Steve looks like he’s ten seconds away from tearing his hair out or banging his head against the wall. Eddie is torn between watching how this unfolds just for shits and giggles, or jumping in and saving Steve from his obvious discomfort. Unfortunately, he's a very curious person, so he seats himself at one of the many tables near the entrance and watches the train wreck in front of him unfold.

“That’s not how you treat a customer, idiot. Do you want me to talk to your boss or something?" The girl - Erica - replies, clearly not impressed in the slightest by Steve’s lecture. “I bet he wouldn’t like what you did.”

“You wouldn't-." Steve pauses for a moment. There seems to be something in Erica’s face that makes him falter mid-sentence. Because in the next second, Steve sinks into himself like a puppet with its strings cut off.

“Fine,” he groans. “What do you want?”

“See, I knew you’d come around.” Erica sounds proud of successfully blackmailing Steve into giving her what she wants.

Ten minutes and a few samples later, Erica leaves the store with a smug expression on her face. When she catches Eddie staring at her, she glares at him with disdain, before finally leaving for good. Geez, those young girls sure are different today.

“God, I can’t believe her sometimes…,” Eddie can hear Steve muttering from behind the counter, head tipped back and staring at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe inside. When Steve looks down again and finally spots Eddie sitting there, he blanches, his face immediately losing all color.

“Oh no,” he states. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been here the whole time.”

“Would it make things better if I told you that this little girl is absolutely scary before giving you an honest answer?” Eddie says, before making his way over to the counter.

“A little,” Steve squeaks, sounding unsure. “God, you really must think I’m a loser now.”

Eddie deliberately lets his eyes wander over Steve's body, clad in that scandalous sailor outfit." Right. Only now.”

At first, Steve doesn’t get what he’s hinting at. Then his eyes widen. Then they narrow. And before Eddie knows it, he’s met with the infamous Harrington glare of doom. Or the mean girl stare as Grant jokingly likes to call it. It’s almost funny to watch Steve turn from complete and utter embarrassment to this in a matter of seconds.

But instead of lashing out, like he surely would’ve done last year, Steve leaves it at that and a “Funny, Munson”, before smoothing out his face again into a neutral expression. Though he now believes Steve changed, Eddie is surprised by his tame reaction. The old Steve would have verbally torn him to shreds at such a jab at his ego by now.

“Does she really do that every day?” Eddie asks, changing the subject, so as to not test his luck. He doesn’t need to overdo it when the first soft tendrils of their friendship are still fragile.

“Erica? Yes, unfortunately,” Steve replies, making a face. “And because I need this job and my asshole father surely would serve my head on a platter if I lose it, I have to play nice with her. Mostly.”

“Your father makes you work here?”

That’s a bit surprising actually. Eddie always thought the Harringtons would rather be caught dead than let any member of their family work a minimum-wage job. In this ridiculous outfit no less.

“Mhm. Remember when I told you they always nag at me for something?” Eddie nods, and Steve continues. “Well, seems like he didn’t take it well I graduated at the skin of my teeth and couldn’t go to college because of it. Seems like he was right calling me a disappointment since the first time I brought home a bad grade.”

He sounds so defeated telling him about the way his father treats him, Eddie feels the urge to punch Mr. Harrington in the face fester inside him. He balls his hands into fists at his side, trying to shove his anger down. This is not the time, nor the place for this.

“So that’s the reason I work here. And most of the time it’s not even that bad,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s no big deal for him. But Eddie isn’t convinced at all. From the things he heard about Steve’s dad, whether it was from Steve himself or his uncle Wayne, Mr. Harrington doesn't strike him as the person to give his son a job he would like.

“I mean, I get free ice cream sometimes. And at least I have a job, unlike others. So I shouldn’t complain that I-.”

“Steve.” Steve immediately clicks his mouth at Eddie’s firm tone, something that he’s definitely filing away for later. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to pretend to like your job in front of me. I’m not judging you for it.”

“I uh - thanks. I guess.”

“Don’t mention it. I would be a hypocrite if I’d actually encouraged you to like your job in that evil den of capitalism,” Eddie jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

It seems to work because Steve snorts, his solemn expression turning into an amused one. “Are you going to jump on tables here, too?” he quips good-naturedly, then his eyes widen. “Oh, please don’t actually do that.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Although it sounds rather tempting.” When Steve wants to protest, Eddie holds his hands placatingly. “Just kidding Stevie. Wait, does that mean you actually listened to those things I said at the school cafeteria?”

“It was hard not to,” Steve grins toothily, his cheeks red for some reason. “Has anyone ever told you really have a knack for the dramatic?”

Eddie bumps his finger against his lips a few times, pretending to think about Steve’s rhetorical question. “Hmm. Nope, definitely heard this the first time today.”

“As if,” Steve laughs. “I think you being dramatic is like a law of the universe or something.”

“I’m going to pretend this is a compliment,” Eddie replies dryly but feels somehow giddy at Steve’s words. He feels seen. “Otherwise it would be totally rude of you.”

“Believe me it is a compliment” Steve becomes serious again and Eddie feels almost dizzy with how fast the other is changing his emotions today. “There’s just something so admirable how you’re so unabashedly yourself. Makes me a bit jealous, to be honest.”

Jealous? Steve Harrington is jealous of him? No way in hell. But Steve looks so earnest that Eddie can’t do much than accept the fact that this may be the truth.

“Sorry I-,” Eddie hesitates because this is just so weird for him. “I think I’m a bit surprised hearing that from you.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s only the truth. And I think I’m jealous because if I would be a bit more like you, I maybe could accept myself more easily.”

This catches Eddie’s attention. “What do you mean by that?" he asks curiously. And it must’ve been the wrong thing to ask because Steve’s expression immediately slides shut and suddenly there’s a distance between them that’s almost palpable.

“Uh, nothing. Forget it. It’s - I - nothing, really.”

Despite his brash demeanor, Eddie knows when it’s the wrong time to pry. So he just nods and lets it slide for the time being. Maybe there’ll be another opportunity to talk soon, where Steve will be more open about whatever this is.

#steddie #i'm bored and alone don't judge me #steddie fandom #pre relationship #but they're getting there I hope

759 notes · View notes

stevesbipanic · 2 years

Note

soulmate au where you can hear what song your soulmate has stuck in their head. Steve gets confused as to why he always hears heavy metal, because he always thought he'd fall for a girl who listens to cheesy romantic pop music, and Ed gets frustrated from all the Top 40 songs constantly playing in his head

Since my last soulmate AU was sad I should do another fluffy one so Ty for the prompt.

Eddie doesn't really remember a time a song wasn't playing in his head. He assumes there was probably a time when he was little bit his memories of childhood are fuzzy at best anyway. However, no matter how loud he plays his metal songs, the poppy top 40s songs of his soulmate will often drown them out. It almost drives him insane, until one day all the songs stop.

In the cold winter of 1983, Eddie Munson wakes up one day with no song in his head. This wasn't completely unusual, his soulmate was often an early riser but the holidays were coming up so people slept in more. What was strange however, was there was no song, all day. No song the next day and no song for weeks. Eddie knew something very bad had happened to his soulmate and he didn't know what to do.

Steve will often tell people he does bad at school because his soulmate plays the loudest music. When Steve was a kid the songs would only be now and then but since Steve was nine there was always some loud metal music rattling around his brain. Steve would spend years looking for some cool metal chic, but all the girls he met liked cute pop songs.

Steve was suspicious that Nancy was a secret metalhead when he fell head first in love with her. She wasn't, he wasn't surprised she always had indie music playing in her head. After he faced the Demogorgan, Steve didn't feel like listening to the radio, the staticky sound put him on edge, he sat in his room, all the lights off so they wouldn't flicker, and held his nail bat tightly. He would listen all day for the sound of danger, the only noise he heard was his soulmate. When his parents returned a few weeks later he had to go back to normal.

When Eddie woke up to some dumb song he heard on the radio once, he almost cried. His soulmate was ok.

In 1984, Eddie's soulmate had another blip, Eddie held his breathe, but the songs would return and his soulmate was ok.

In 1985, Eddie's soulmate had the dumbest songs in his head. Weeks after the fire Eddie would figure out he heard the same songs playing in the mall. He was glad he could still here them, his soulmate was still ok.

In 1986, Eddie felt bad for his soulmate. He'd been practicing Master of Puppets for weeks as soon as it came out, his soulmate must be sick of it. When everything started happening, Eddie's soulmate was quiet, Eddie hoped he was ok, that he wasn't dead somewhere like Chrissy.

Eddie silently apologised to his soulmate as he played his favourite song once more, he hoped they would forgive him if said song saved the world. As Eddie laid bleeding out in Dustin's arms, he wished he could hear a dumb pop song one more time. Maybe his soulmate was waiting for home on the other side.

...

....

.....

Eddie blinked his eyes open, the lights were bright, wait, bright lights? Eddie looked around as his eyes came into focus, he was in a hospital, he was alive. That wasn't the only surprising thing, Steve Harrington was asleep in a chair next to his bed.

"Hey, pretty boy, wake up."

"E-Eddie? EDDIE! Fuck you're awake! You're ok!"

"Yeah, seems like it, I'm guessing I have you and the others to thank."

"Yeah, couldn't let my soulmate bleed out in that hellhole."

"Soulmate?"

"Dustin told me what song you played."

Steve flicked Eddie's arm.

"Um OW! I'm injured here Stevie have mercy."

"That's for making me listen to that song for weeks, Eds!"

"Well it saved the world didn't it?"

"Yeah I guess it did."

"Plus you made me listen to cheesy pop songs sweetheart so we're even. You um, I thought you were dead sometimes, there would be no songs for weeks, I thought Vecna had killed you when there was no songs again this time."

"Don't like listening to songs when all this shit is going down, distracts me. I don't think my head has ever been as quiet as on that drive it the hospital, don't do that again ok?"

"I promise, Stevie, gonna be stuck with my loud as fuck music for life."

"Sounds good to me, Eds."

Guess Eddie's soulmate was waiting for him on the other side after all.

#stranger things #soulmate au #steddie #steddie au #steddie soulmate au #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #ty for the prompt #ficlet #steddie ficlet

1K notes · View notes

ckret2 · 8 months

Text

Chapter 14 of Human Bill Is A Prisoner And Only Mabel Is Being Nice To Him (real title TBD), and the conclusion of the first big plot arc:

Also featuring: what Pacifica has been up to the past year! Dipper and Mabel arguing about Bill! The hand witch, briefly! Funny pranks that Ford does not think are funny! And other things.

####

Dipper and Mabel waved goodbye as they left the Hand Witch's cave. The witch, her boyfriend, and Mabel's spare right hand on the witch's shoulder waved back.

"Thanks for helping us out on such short notice," Dipper said.

"Oh, any time!" the witch said. "Come back whenever you like! I'll make tea and snacks again."

"Girl, you know I'm always up for more of your..." Mabel flashed the witch a pair of finger guns and a wink, "... finger food!"

Her spare hand made a finger gun back. The witch laughed so hard she wheezed. Her boyfriend leaned down to pat her back.

As Mabel and Dipper wove their way down the Hand Witch's mountain, Mabel said, "It's good to see she's found a relationship. She seems happy! And less desperate."

"I dunno, I'm kind of worried about that guy. What if he's just using her to learn her handomancy secrets?"

"Naaah, I'm not worried about him. He's a really bad apprentice. I think he's just letting her train him as a bonding activity. Like when girls let their boyfriends explain football so they can watch games together." Mabel turned to peer at the dark cave above. "Do you think Alehandra will be lonely without me?"

"Wh—you already named it?"

"Hands come in pairs, Dipper. Maybe she'd like a twin sister." She looked at Dipper's hands. "Or brother."

"Oh no. Uh-uh, I can see where this is going. We've already gotten in enough trouble with that stuff."

Mabel's phone buzzed. They must have gotten near enough town to get reception again. She pulled out her phone, saw a text from Soos, and swiped it open. "Mabel, this is Ford..."

"Speaking of growing extra hands," Dipper said. "Mabel... I think this whole thing is a bad idea. I mean—worse than it was originally. Getting Bill magic hair growth formula is one thing, but, growing extra limbs? I don't know what he could do with that, but he could do something."

Mabel's thumbs hovered over the screen, paralyzed as she tried to figure out what to tell Ford and Dipper at the same time.

The truth was, she'd had the same worry as Dipper. She lowered her phone. "Yeah, okay, maybe he could possibly do something with it hypothetically—but clearly the whole reason he asked for it was for the hair growth part! Because he's bald. So maybe he just... doesn't care about the rest? If we get only enough Hairy Fairy to regrow his hair and use it all up, then he won't have a chance to use it for anything evil, right?"

"Unless he's not even interested in regrowing his hair." Dipper pulled off his backpack and rummaging through it until he found the advertisement Ford had given him. "Look, everything in this ad lines up with what Bill told us about Hairy Fairy's history. If he knew that much, he definitely could know it can grow extra limbs. He might have even known it was coming back on the market before he saw the commercial! What if the only reason he burned off his hair was to manipulate us into getting this formula?"

"What would he do with a bunch of extra body parts?" Mabel asked. "He's clumsy enough with the ones he already has. I kinda think more would make him weaker."

"I don't know, but—I didn't know what he wanted a 'puppet' for, either, and see how that turned out?"

Mabel bit her lip, looking at Dipper's face—and then looked down at her phone, rereading the last sentence of Ford's text. "I'm worried he might be up to something nefarious."

She couldn't have this conversation in two places at once. She typed a quick reply to Ford—"It's too complicated to explain in text! I'll tell you when Dipper and I get home. (It's NOT dangerous, don't worry!) ❤️"—and stuffed her phone in her pocket. "Okay," she said. "Look. Sure, it makes sense to be extra paranoid with Bill—especially when we saw him finish his big master plan last summer—but honestly? I kinda don't think he's that good. Think about how many times Grunkle Ford says he tried and failed to get into our universe! I don't think he's a big alien super-genius with a careful zillion-year plan; I think he's just some guy that needed to try a zillion years just to get one plan to work. And that's... kind of lame. What can a guy like that do with hair formula?"

Dipper absorbed that. "Wow. Yeah, actually, when you put it that way, that—that isn't very impressive." He grimaced. "But—okay, even if he didn't have a complicated escape plan, what if he saw the hair formula and thought of one that he needs extra arms for—?"

"Dipper, we can 'but what if' Bill forever!" She flung out her hands in frustration. "If we second-guess everything he says, we'll start wondering stuff like 'what if he wants us to distrust him so he can reverse-psychology us into doing the thing he actually wants?' It'll drive us crazy! And letting Bill drive us crazy won't make us safer! We can't spend another summer being paranoid about Evil Bill Tricks!"

"Okay yeah, you have a point, but—why is the solution 'do what he wants'? Why isn't it 'tell him no, and cover our ears whenever he tries to say he wants something so we don't even know what he wants and he can't manipulate us'?"

Mabel's mind flashed back to the sad ghost under the zodiac blanket, huddled in a dusty corner. She looked at her feet and kicked a clump of grass self-consciously. "Because... he's sad and it's making me sad."

Dipper groaned. "Mabel."

"I know—"

"Mabel, he could be acting sad on purpose—"

"I know he could, I know, I KNOW!" Mabel let out all her accumulated Bill-induced frustration in a scream that startled several birds out of a nearby tree. She jumped furiously on the clump of grass. "He probably thinks I'm a big soft sucker! He's the worst and I hate him so much!"

"YES!" Dipper aimed a kick at the grass clump. "He's the worst ever! It's his fault we're even having this argument!"

"This summer was supposed to be different!"

"No apocalypses, no murder attempts, and no demon triangles!"

"No triangles at ALL! I don't even like geometry!"

When they'd collaboratively destroyed the grass clump, they fell silent, breathing heavily, staring at the upturned dirt. "I needed that," Mabel said. After a moment, she knelt down and tried to set the mangled grass back upright. The grass did nothing to deserve this.

Dipper leaned against a tree. "So. Are we giving up on the hair stuff?"

Mabel carefully patted a mound of dirt around what was left of the base of the grass. "I... still wanna go through with it."

Dipper had used up all his frustration on the grass. He sighed. "If you're gonna get that stuff for Bill no matter what I say, then... why are you trying to talk me into it?"

"Because I'm not going to do it. Not unless you agree."

"You... what?"

"Dipper, I feel like this is the right thing to do—but that's why I need to know what you think. The last time we didn't talk things out, the world almost ended! We always make better decisions together than we do apart. If I can't say anything that makes you think it's worth the risk, then—I'll give up. I'll tell Bill we couldn't get the stuff, and offer to get him a discount wig after Summerween, and... that's it." Mabel shrugged. "I'm scared too. I keep wondering stuff like 'what if he gives himself leg stilts and climbs out the chimney? What if he grows seven fingers and can finally overpower Ford?' But that's stupid."

She looked up at Dipper. "I want to make sure that if we give up, it's because there really is a danger. I don't want to refuse to help somebody suffering just because we're scared of him."

Dipper slid down to sit on the grass and watch Mabel give the grass clump first aid. Once Mabel was satisfied enough to sit back and wipe her hands off on her skirt, Dipper said, "Yeah. I am scared of him. He's tricked me with some misleading wording before, and I don't want it to happen again. I want to say I'm just being logical, but... right now, maybe I'm doing more feeling than thinking, too." He shrugged. "The truth is, I can't think of anything he could do with the hair growth formula that isn't so ridiculous, even I don't believe it's possible."

Mabel nodded. "Are you scared enough to say 'no'? If you are, we'll quit."

"No, I'm not." Dipper heaved a sigh. "I guess... let's do it. But I want to be as careful as possible. We'll get just barely enough to regrow his hair, one of us will apply the formula so he can't misuse it—"

"I can do that," Mabel said. "I've already slathered like a whole bucket of yellow paint on his face."

"Okay. And I'll watch the whole time as backup, in case he tries anything."

"Barty can watch from the vents as the backup-backup, too!"

"Good idea."

"Boom! Flawless plan!" Mabel grinned. "Now let's go see Pacifica!"

####

The address Pacifica had given them led to a small fenced-in pasture outside town.

Over the main gate was a sign that read "Platinum Alpaca Estates".

In the pasture, a half dozen pink-collar-wearing alpacas placidly grazed.

And standing in front of it all—wearing immaculately tailored lavender overalls, a set of white rhinestone-studded boots and cowboy hat, and a nervous smile—was Pacifica.

Dipper and Mabel gaped.

Dipper said, "What the— What is—"

"Pacifica what."

Pacifica held up her hands. "Okay wait, just let me explain! After my family lost our mansion last year, I could only keep one horse? Which was devastating! I needed to fill the void of hoofed mammals in my life somehow."

Mabel leaned over the fence. "So you got alpacas?"

"I was actually inspired by the llama sweater you gave me." Pacifica gave Mabel a small, crooked smile. "It reminded me that I've always secretly thought alpacas are cute, and I really like alpaca wool goods, so I thought... you know... what if I try it out?" She opened the gate, gesturing for the twins to follow her toward a small barn. "And I actually really love it! These are like, my babies. And I'm talking with some fashion brands about maybe selling them some luxury wool?"

She led them into the barn, and then into a small office being cooled by a window A/C unit. Several wool garments, protected in glass cases, were proudly displayed on the walls with labels underneath: "First Sweater", "First Scarf", "First Blanket"—

"Hey!" Mabel pointed at the familiar blanket, creamy white with the anti-Bill zodiac in ochre yellow. "That's the one I made! Did the yarn you sent me to make it come from your alpacas?"

"It did! You're the first person to make anything with their wool."

"Whoa."

"I actually want to use my symbol from the circle as our brand. I'm waiting to hear from my copyright lawyer about who I need to talk to for the rights to the image—if it's you or your great-uncle, or if it's still with the tribe that left the valley like a thousand years ago, or if it's public domain," Pacifica said. "It's a vague enough shape, I think it could look like either a llama or an alpaca, right?"

Mabel considered what Bill had said about Pacifica's symbol, considered the small alpaca herd visible through the office window, and said, "I have it on good authority that it's supposed to be an alpaca."

"So, wait," Dipper said. "What does this have to do with your modeling job?"

"The ranch isn't turning a profit yet. I'm still in talks with the brands that want our wool, and in the meantime I've got to hire more people to help. I don't know the hard stuff about taking care of alpacas, I just kind of brush their wool and make friends with them while my employees do the hard stuff."

Dipper snorted.

"Hey! I'm learning! But I've only been doing this a few months." Pacifica sank down into her desk chair, propping her chin in her hands. "Almost all my allowance and side gig income is going toward my alpacas. My parents don't want to invest in my startup!" She pouted. "They said if I want to act like a rancher instead of a socialite, it'll be on my own dime."

"So that's why you're working two summer jobs?" Dipper said. "Oh, man. I should have known something was up. I thought it was weird when you said your parents wouldn't pay for a spring and summer wardrobe."

"Yeah, I spent my spring wardrobe budget on this barn," Pacifica said. "I figure I'm investing in my future wardrobe, you know?"

Mabel planted her hands on Pacifica's desk. "Pacifica, I can see how important this is. I've run a business myself—I appreciate the pressure you're under. But, how about this: we could help each other! If you get us a tiiiny bit of that formula, I'll come over once a week for the rest of summer to help out with your alpacas. For free!"

Pacifica blinked. "What?"

"And that way, even if you do get in trouble and lose your Hairy Fairy job, you'll still have someone to help you out!"

Dipper's eyes widened. "Um—Pacifica, could you give us a moment?" He grabbed Mabel's elbow and tugged her out of the office.

"What is it?"

Dipper whispered, "Are you sure you wanna make that kind of commitment for the rest of summer? For Bill's sake?"

"Dipperrr, it's like working in a petting zoo!" She gestured toward the office window. "Look at how soft they are!"

"Oh, boy."

"And maybe I could get some luxury alpaca wool! I'm gonna have the fanciest sweaters."

Dipper grimaced, but decided Mabel would probably have looked for an excuse to spend time around the alpacas regardless of the situation. "Okay. Have at her." He nodded back toward the office.

When Mabel and Dipper came back in, Pacifica was sitting up straighter, hands laced on her desk, a miniature businesswoman entertaining a business proposal. "I appreciate the offer," Pacifica said. "But I don't think a few hours of labor a week balance out the profits I could make at my modeling job. It just doesn't make financial sense. I'm sorry, Mabel. I've got to think of my alpacas."

"I understand. But—I've got to think of my not-friend. If you could just see..." She trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "Dipper! Let me get in your backpack."

"Um, okay—?"

Mabel rummaged around in the main pouch. "I'm sure we left it... Ha!" She slapped down a ziplock bag containing the lock of Bill's hair that they'd collected to make his poppet. "This... is the person I'm trying to help." She crossed her arms triumphantly. "Okay, not the person, but it's his hair anyway."

Pacifica's brows shot up. "Oh, wow." She opened the bag and carefully extracted a few strands to examine. "This is the most golden golden hair I've ever seen. And look at it. Little oily, could use a good conditioner, damaged roots, but otherwise amazing health, no split ends..." Pacifica looked at Mabel, pointed at the baggie, and asked, "Virgin?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "I have no idea and I never ever want to find out."

"No! I mean is this the natural color and texture, or has it been treated?"

"Oh. I'm pretty sure it just came like that?" She looked at Dipper.

Dipper shrugged. "I mean, probably? I doubt he hit up a salon before coming to the Mystery Shack."

"And... you say he had a bad haircut?" Pacifica asked. "What does he look like now?"

Gently, Mabel said, "Bald."

Pacifica let out the softest gasp. "Okay. I get it. I'll help. And also send over a couple of conditioner samplers, because whoever your friend is, he has not been taking care of his hair lately. Natural beauty can only carry him so far. I'll have the conditioners overnighted to your shack."

"Great!" A wide smile broke out across Mabel's face. "Thank you so much, Pacifica! And the formula, too?"

"Actually, I can give you that right now." Pacifica pulled a small green Hairy Fairy bottle from one of her overall pockets.

Mabel gasped in delight. Dipper said, "Wait, you had that the whole time?"

"When we escaped the country club, I accidentally still had the bottle we'd used for the live demonstration in my pocket," Pacifica said. "I was going to replace it tomorrow morning before anyone goes looking for it; I'll just give you guys a few drops and make up the difference with a little alpaca shampoo. Hopefully, nobody will notice the difference."

Mabel said, "Pacifica, you're the best!"

"I know." Pacifica leaned across the desk to put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."

"Sure! What?"

"I won't be able to do this a second time," Pacifica said. "So you'd better make sure your friend takes care of his hair."

####

Bill squinted at the chocolate chip-sized dollop of lotion at the bottom of the quart-sized plastic food container. "Gotta hand it to you, Shooting Star. This is the funniest way you could have transported the formula."

"We forgot to bring anything to put it in." Mabel snapped on a pair of yellow dish gloves and pointed at the kitchen floor. "Okay! Sit down so I can reach and let me work my magic."

"What, don't think I can handle it myself?" But he sat down even as he protested. He'd already removed his cardboard triangle helmet—which now sat, battered and bent, on the kitchen table—and had washed off his paint/makeup as well as he could without requesting shower access.

Mabels scooped the dollop of lotion onto one gloved finger, then massaged it across her fingertips. "I'm your official makeup artist now! I've gotta do it. Besides, you missed a chunk of hair when you were removing it, you'd probably miss a chunk when you were putting it back on."

"Eh, fair enough. Okay kid, do your worst."

As Mabel coated Bill's scalp, the chemical burns he'd given himself while removing his hair vanished, replaced with new healthy skin—and Dipper quietly lamented, once again, that this stuff was being marketed to grow hair and not regrow limbs. He'd have to document it thoroughly in his journal later.

Dipper was sitting at the bottom of the attic stairs, watching the proceedings in the kitchen, armed with Mabel's grappling gun to use as a projectile weapon if Bill dared try anything. But Bill just sat there, legs crossed with his feet on his thighs and his hands palm-up on his knees like he was meditating, not even turning his head as Mabel worked.

Mabel jerked her hands back in surprise as a fresh layer of golden hair sprang out of Bill's scalp—then quickly reached in again, massaging the lotion into all the strands and coaxing them out until they were all around shoulder length, the same as they'd started. "There! Ta-da! Good as new!"

As the hair crawled down Bill's temples, tickled his ears, brushed his cheeks, he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and clenched his jaw, straining hard to keep from moving. His open hands curled into fists. Dipper raised the grappling hook. But when Bill turned to face Mabel, he was all grins again, and if Dipper hadn't known to look for it he wouldn't have noticed the anxious tic in Bill's eyebrow. "Well? How do I look?"

"Gorgeous! If the real Goldilocks saw you, she'd have to change her name in shame."

"Ha! That's what I like to hear!" Bill un-pretzeled his legs and stood up. "And you did it without giving me any spare eyebrows, too." So he did know about the side-effects.

"Oh, pfff, yeah, I'm not lowering my guard around that stuff again. The first time I opened a bottle, I got some on me and grew an extra hand!"

"No! Really?" Bill gave Mabel's gloved hands a skeptical look. "Where's it now?"

"I donated it to the Hand Witch."

"Ahh, pity. You could've had some fun with your temporary crown."

"'Crown'?"

"Most fingers in the household?"

Mabel's eyes bugged out, and then a manic smile took over her face, as if her brain had just been flooded with more glee than her face could process. She yanked off the gloves, hastily rubbed them on her left wrist, and shouted, "GRUNKLE FOOORD!" She sprinted through the entryway and took the turn down the hallway so fast she ran a couple steps up on the wall before landing back on the floor. "Grunkle Ford, guess what!"

Dipper almost followed her—until he caught Bill moving in the corner of his eye, bending down to pick up the discarded gloves. Dipper raised the grappling hook. What was Bill planning to do with them—use the remainder to mutate himself? Save them to use later? Eat them—?

Bill dropped the gloves in the plastic container the lotion had come in, sealed the lid, and dropped them in the kitchen waste bin. Under his breath, he muttered, "The last thing I need is the pig sniffing this and growing an extra snout." He paused. "Wait. That would be funny."

From the other side of the house, Ford's voice bellowed, "BILL!"

Bill's head snapped around to face the kitchen doorway—and for the first time he glanced at Dipper sitting on the stairs. "Hey. What do you bet he didn't even let Mabel explain before deciding this is my fault?"

"Uh..."

Mabel and Ford's approach could be tracked through Mabel's hasty explanation: "Grunkle Ford, it's just a prank! I'm okay, see? I'm gonna donate Mirhanda to the Hand Witch, it'll be fine—"

The moment Ford saw Bill, he made a beeline for him and seized him by his t-shirt collar. "What did you do to her?! Answer me, Cipher!"

"I didn't! I'm innocent! I plea the fifth! I've been falsely accused! I was framed! Mercy!" The sincerity of his pleas was somewhat undermined by the fact that he couldn't stop laughing the whole time Ford was trying to menace him. His too-wide gleeful smile looked a lot like Mabel's.

####

"Okay, Pacifica," the director said. "This commercial is for the teen market, so we want you to talk to the camera like you're talking to your peers, all right? And by that, I don't mean your real peers. I mean the slightly less rich girls who would do anything you asked to be considered one of your peers."

"Don't worry, I've got this," Pacifica said. She positioned herself on her stool, hands laced over her knees, and said, "Ready when you are."

"And... action!"

Pacifica gave the camera her best haughty-but-not-too-haughty look, the one that said maybe if you say something interesting to me I'll double your social standing for fun, and launched into her memorized lines: "Hey, I'm Pacifica Northwest—you all know me, most of you probably want to be me. Listen, girls: have you ever tried to go short and it just didn't work out? Maybe that pixie cut makes your ears look weird, maybe those bangs are not for you. If you wish you looked as great as me, I have just the thing for you..."

Everything continued as normal, until Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula was applied to her hair... and nothing happened. Pacifica stumbled over a word, and then kept going, as if maybe no one would notice if she didn't draw attention to it. As she was wrapping up her monologue, her hair finally... slowly started growing... and stopped at half its usual length. Pacifica bit her lip.

"Pacifica!"

She winced and turned toward her boss, feigning a look of innocent surprise. "Yes, Mr. Haroldson?"

"What did you put in your hair! You know you're not supposed to have any product in your hair on shoot days!"

"Nothinggg! I've been following my hair care instructions perfectly! And I had it rinsed just before the shoot like always!"

"Well—what's the problem, then?" Mr. Haroldson turned to the hazmat-suited hairdresser holding the formula bottle.

"I don't know." He took off his mask. "This is the same sample bottle we used at the country club demonstration, it should be fine..." He took a sniff of it, and grimaced. "What...? That's not our usual fragrance, is it?" Mr. Haroldson leaned over to sniff as well.

She'd been found out. She was doomed. Her poker face collapsed like a house of cards. "Okay fine I took a few drops for a friend and maybe replaced it with a little bit of shampoo, so what!" She pointed at Mr. Haroldson. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? Fire me? Go ahead, see if I care! I can get a million better modeling jobs in a week!"

Mr. Haroldson's expression darkened in rage—and then he said, "Pacifica, you're a genius!"

"Huh?"

"Watering it down! Of course! We can sell unaltered bottles to hook new customers and then stretch out our supply by giving repeat customers the weak stuff—we'll tell them that it's less effective if they're overusing it! We can keep up that scam for years, it's not like the FDA is regulating this stuff! Why, we could even make a whole new product!" He turned to wave at an assistant, "Call R&D, get R&D on the phone—we'll make a formula designed to grow short hair. We can call it... Pixie Dust Pixie Cuts! It's all thanks to you, Pacifica!" He beamed at her.

She beamed back.

He said, "You're not getting credit or a raise though."

"Pshhh, obviously. I know how this industry works."

"All right, back to work." He pointed at the director. "Crack open a new bottle and let's wrap this up ASAP. I've got to schedule some meetings about the new product line."

####

"Well, he didn't grow himself eight arms," Dipper said, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He was going over a map of Gravity Falls he'd taken from the gift shop, circling locations of potential paranormal activity he wanted to investigate over the summer. Bill-tainted places got an additional triangle. "And I took out the kitchen trash to make sure Bill couldn't go back for the formula later. I guess he wasn't up to anything after all." He paused. "... Unless he wanted the formula in our trash, and now it's multiplying the garbage or getting picked up by some sleeper agent outside the shack—"

"Stooop," Mabel said. She was carefully coloring in a green bottle of Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula in Dipper's journal; Dipper had started entrusting his journal's art duties to Mabel whenever they went on a joint investigation. "We can't start thinking like that! Remember, our therapist told us that paranoia is a natural coping mechanism for dealing with scary situations, but trusting people is healthy and a sign of healing!" She set down the journal so she could emphasize the word "healing" with jazz hands.

"I think that's supposed to apply to trusting normal people."

"Yeah, but still." The journal flipped a few pages as she picked it back up, and her eyes were caught by scribbles in bright highlighter yellow. "Hey, what's this new stuff? Did you make up a secret code to keep notes in? Can I learn?"

"Ugh. No, Bill did that. I left my journal out and he wrote a bunch of secret messages. It's probably telling me how I'm going to die or the names of all the girls who will reject me or something."

"Pff, probably. Have you shown Grunkle Ford? Maybe he knows it."

"Not yet. He's been too busy."

"Right..." And now, she was sure, he was probably mad at her personally for worrying him with the hand prank.

Mabel flipped through a few more pages, looking at the bright yellow notes. She glanced toward the window, scanning the trees outside. She sighed and got up, leaving Dipper's journal on her bed.

"What's up?"

"Now you've got me worrying about sleeper agents. I'm gonna make sure the gloves are still in the trash."

When she'd confirmed all the garbage was right where it was supposed to be and came back in the shack, she spotted Bill in the living room. He was scrunched up on one side of the sofa as close to the doorway as he could get, watching TV. He glanced over as she shut the front door and flashed a grin. "Hey, Shooting Star. What're you up to?"

Ah, great. They were on casual chit-chat terms now. She edged toward the doorway but stayed outside the living room—sorry, not staying long—and said, "Oh, you know, just—looking at... the outdoors." Before he could dig further, she changed the topic. "So! How's that hair working out for you?"

"Ah." His smile wilted and his glance drifted back toward the TV. (He seemed to be watching the local news. Mabel decided he must've been really bored.) "Well, hair's still the worst thing that's ever grown on me and I still see a human in the mirror—but at least it's a human with a vaguely triangular silhouette. I can live with being back where I started."

"Sorry we couldn't come up with a real solution." As glad as she was to finish her obligation to Bill, she hated that all her efforts hadn't even really helped. Some problem-solver she was.

"Yeah, well. You can't build a pyramid out of meat. You did the best you could." Bill turned to fully face Mabel. "But, hey—listen." He had one eye squeezed shut but the other one stared her down with the intensity of a spotlight, paralyzing her in place. "Even if it's not perfect, I appreciate the effort you put in."

"Hey, it's no big deal. Crafts are my whole thing! It was kinda fun."

"No, I'm serious," Bill said. "I know I'm the town bogeyman, and everyone's only putting up with me until they find the easiest way to obliterate me. But you did a lot more than just 'put up with me.' And, well—don't tell the others I said this," he rolled his eye toward the hall to the rest of the house, and lowered his voice, "but... it's been a long time since anybody's treated me with a little kindness. Longer than you can imagine. I think I'd forgotten what it feels like. Even if I don't have much time left to enjoy it—I'm grateful for the reminder, kid."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Bill, that..." A lump formed in her throat. How long had it been? As big a jerk as he was—centuries? Millennia?

She darted into the living room, squeezed Bill in a hug before he could protest, and then bolted up the stairs two at a time.

And Bill thought to himself, got her.

Humans were so easy. Once you figured out what they wanted to believe in, you could make them do anything you wanted.

Mabel wanted to believe that everyone everywhere yearned to be friends with everyone else, and that the only thing holding them back was the defensive walls they built around their emotions. Mabel wanted to see people's walls come down. Mabel wanted every social problem to be simple enough that even a child could solve it if they were earnest and honest enough.

Mabel shouldn't have let Bill watch Color Critters. It told him too much about the kind of world she idealized. He had that kid completely figured out—

There was a loud pounding as Mabel leaped back down the stairs three at a time. "On your feet!" She grabbed Bill's hands and tugged him off the sofa, then wrapped a measuring tape around his hips.

He twisted around in bewilderment as she circled him, now measuring his chest. "What—?"

"Face forward! Arms out from your sides!" She measured his shoulder span, then grabbed one arm to measure the length. "I'll be back later. I've got work to do. Do not come upstairs!"

Bill leaned out the doorway to watch her bunny-hop back up to the attic.

Okay, he had that kid mostly figured out.

Well, the odd quirks just made her a little more interesting than the average human. The important thing was that, whether she knew it or not, she wanted Bill to be her friend. She wanted to be the horse girl who tamed the hostile bronco, the beauty who saved the beast. She wanted monsters to swear their loyalty to cute spunky protagonists, and she thought she was a protagonist.

The "reformed bad boy" was outside of the usual characters he played—he was better as the ancient teacher, the playful trickster, the divine messenger—but it was an easy enough role, and it gave him plenty of room to misbehave while staying in character. It's so hard to change my old ways—but maybe it would be easier if you give me another chance, if you help me, if you do this one little thing for me...

There was a fun little quirk of human psychology that was so well-known they'd even given their own name to it: the Foot-In-The-Door Technique. Once you get a human to do you one small, tiny little favor, they'll be more likely to do you another, bigger favor later. Borrow a dollar today and they'll be more likely to let you borrow a hundred dollars next week. Ask them to drive you to the auto shop and you'll have a better chance of asking them to help you move. Get them to bring you a little hair solution, and... well, Bill would just have to wait and see what he wanted next.

As long as everything Bill asked for was harmless, there was nothing the warier members of the household could do to intervene without making themselves look like the unreasonable ones. And by the time Bill started asking for anything dangerous, he'd have Mabel eating out of the palm of his hand, and she'd have no idea until it was too late that she didn't mean a thing to him—

####

Bill stared dumbly in the mirror at the yellow yarn hoodie. "H—Did you just make this?" With his arms at his sides, from the shoulders down, it looked like a decapitated triangle.

"I used velvet yarn for your brick pattern," Mabel said. "It makes the lines stand out more! And I cut one of Dipper's bow ties in half to make the hood's drawstring so you can tie it into a bow!"

Wordlessly, Bill tied the bow—it hung in the center of his chest—and then he pulled the hood on, tugging it low over his forehead, completing the triangle. Mabel had put an eye on the hood. She'd even remembered Bill's eyelashes.

"I thought, hey—if the mask was too much, and the hair is too little, maybe a hoodie's just right," Mabel said. "I don't usually make sweaters for people—sweater curse, blarrr, you know—but, this one time, I thought it was important." She gave Bill a nervous smile. "So... what do you think? Do you like it?"

Bill stared at his reflection. It was hideous, misshapen, and alien, but it was almost himself.

He looked at Mabel. He got down on his knees. He put a hand on her shoulder. He said, "I will kill one enemy of yours, for free, no questions asked, in any way you want."

Mabel blinked. "Please don't do that."

"When I take over the universe I'm giving you your own galaxy."

"I don't—I don't want a galaxy. What would I do with a whole galaxy?"

"A solar system. A planet? Everyone wants their own planet!"

Mabel shook her head.

"Then what do you want?" What the heck do human children like. "Can I show you a magic trick?"

Mabel considered that.

####

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel ran into the kitchen, pushing Waddles in front of her, breathless with excitement. "Look what I can do!" She held a clear plastic spoon at arm's length, peered through it at Waddles like it was a magnifying glass, and slowly lifted the spoon up. Waddles floated up into the air as well. He snorted in mild bafflement.

Stan's jaw dropped. Ford said, "Ohhh, boy."

Mabel beamed at them both.

####

(This chapter isn't quite as edited as I usually do, because I've been sick this past week but wanted to get it out anyway. Apologies for that and I'd appreciate if you noticed any typos or disjointed sentences! And I'd doubly appreciate any nice comments, I've been having a hell of a week.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #mabel pines #fanfic #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

243 notes · View notes

autolenaphilia · 1 year

Text

Re-reading Auramgold's "The Abuser's Guide to Transmisogyny" and oh boy does it have the pulse on how transmisogyny works, especially the kind common on this website.(as the title might tell you, It's a sarcastic guide to using callout culture to isolate and abuse transfems, so basically all the content warnings.)

I'm not talking about the more explicit kind from outright terfs or nazis, although that is of course bad. I'm talking about the more insidious kind, the kind who has "terfs/nazis dni" in their bio, and who is often (tme) trans themselves. The kind of transmisogynist who openly disavows transmisogyny, but has a growing roster of callout posts about supposed "pedos/freaks" who all happen to be transfems. Really you should read all of it, but like here are some choice selections, things I've seen being done to mutuals like right now.

"The main factor of going for a fast and hard strike is finding some Controversial point to grow a harassment mob around. Maybe your victim said something you can ship-of-Theseus into sounding racist, maybe she chose to associate with someone already considered "problematic", maybe she even just posted about some sort of kink or sexuality and you're gonna bend that into her being a rapist or a pedophile. The last approach works best of all of these, as society is always primed to see trans girls as pedophiles; the TERFs already did the work for you on that front. But even if any sexual allegations aren't your centerpiece seed, they can do wonders as an extra spice, a perfect excuse for "if you support my victim against me, you're supporting pedophilia" attacks."

"Many communities have self-ascribed "anti-pedophile crusaders," and these are a valuable resource considering how easy it is to make someone see a trans girl as a sex criminal. Recruit them by leaning into a narrative of how your victim "protects pedophiles in <community>," which works especially well in fandom spaces with the presence of their "anti" faction. If you construct a narrative of your victim puppeting the community from behind the scenes, you can lean right into the fascist playbook of portraying your vulnerable victim as the puppetmaster."

"Of course, you don't even need even a made-up "victim" to accuse your trans girl victim of sexual impropriety. If your victim is into any sexuality at all, she's likely to have some kink or another that is vaguely Controversial enough to accuse her on. Never mind that it's between consenting adults, if you frame it as thoughtcrime, if you frame it as sin, it's very difficult for your victim to actually defend against it. One particularly effective mode to attack with is any caregiver/little dynamics your victim might be into, as it is very easy to twist "your victim likes diapers" into "your victim likes fucking children" as a ship-of-Theseus argument. Targeting littleness works especially well because it is a kink that usually comes from parental abuse that manifests into fawn trauma, and you can take advantage of your victim's trauma making her try to appease anyone that hurts her to neutralize any ability she has to fight back.

While littleness is one of the best targets to base accusations of sexual abuse on, basically any kink can work well enough for that. If she draws CNC you can call her a "secret rapist," if she's into petplay you can call her a "zoophile", if she's into gore or sadomasochism you can claim she's physically abusive. Hell, you can get the antis on your side if she merely ships the wrong characters together or likes a "bad" character, as they're all too willing to join at the hint of anything like that they can attack someone for. Literally any kink or sexuality can be twisted into a slight against your victim, and this works very well for your attacks so that they may pull at the groundwork the fascists already set out for you."

#cw: abuse #transmisogyny #callout culture #(honestly all the content warnings)#(but this is important to talk about)#the abusers guide to transmisogyny #cw:bullying

307 notes · View notes

vqrtualheartss · 4 months

Text

Hii

Every Sunday, you scanned the church's congregation for a familiar face ― Aunt Rio's son, Miles. It seemed as though she barely managed to drag him every other week given the nonchalant look he always wore. You held him as a classification of a hallway crush, never daring to do much than pretend not to stare from the other side of the alter unless you were ready to meet the god you served. Well, the God your whole family served; yeaa, you're the pastor's daughter. And I think we know how that goes, being expected to keep Sunday school each and every week, not to mention that the simplest things were prohibited like music, talking in a "ghetto" way, blah blah blah yaddi yaddi yadda. And your absolute favorite ― always keeping your appearance up to posh

"I will not have my eldest dressing like a jezebel or some boy in my own home. Go and take that off right this instant"

Were the ever present words spoken by your mother if you made the mere mistake of wearing shorts or sweats' around the house. If anything, life felt like a Greenleaf episode and not in a good way. Ranging from the secrets and scandals behind the chapel's closed doors or the fact that multiple administrators like to front that they had the perfect, picturesque family. You couldn't tell which was worse; that they had nothing like that or the fact that your own family―. Nah, in this house you had no family, not since your sister Asaria left.

With tears in both of your eyes, she barely mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to you. It could be the fact you were just eight years old to register what she was apologizing for or that the tears bound your vision so badly you mistook the statement for something else. That couldn't be it, you could see clearly the disgust-filled scowls on your parents faces and they held you back. And like all the stupid rules enforced, your family forbid you from ever contacting her, brainwashing you that they were only trying their bests at raising you. Therefore, you pushed Asaria's words and underlying warning at the back of your mind, convincing yourself that she was just paranoid.. yea. Let's just say that all the delusion wore off when it was your time to take the mic.

You never thought that they'd do this, it felt unreal, like some book with a fucked up plot. But it was happening, you were being wed off at the mere age of seventeen. You know that like all the previous fights, you'd never win. Then again here you stood, behind the chancel, arguing about the dominant latter of your life. Did it even feel like you had one of your own? You felt like a puppet being induced to what was 'for your own good' as you helplessly bantered with your parents Mr. and Mrs. Larkspur

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

"If both parents agree to it, you may be wed" Some mother you are "I was barely sixteen last week, how am I eligible to get married" "I suggest you fix your tone young woman" "THAT'S THE LEAST IMPORTANT THING RIGHT NOW"

The frilled dress I wore swayed with the movements my hand made justifying why what they're doing is absolutely atrocious. Why isn't stuff like this illegal? Tears swung from my lash line as I flashed my face from my fathers wavering hand meant to do nothing but harm. He wasn't one to put his hands on anyone but when he felt desperate or threatened to show dominance; like right now. My mother held onto her coat tightly with that same disgust she watched Asaria flea with whilst my father balled his fist. The claps of the congregation started to die down. Grunting, he walked out onto the nave, but not before giving me a scorning glare. She stood unmoved, dragging me to our house attached to the church by my arm to give the same lecture she had over a thousand times.

"YOU have full knowledge as to why we're doing this. You're father and I are growing grey and we need someone to take over the legacy of the church and with you as our eldest we cannot let you rule over alone or by yourself"

Because I'm a girl? I managed to keep up a neutral look, not an angry or sad one. I couldn't bear to show any emotions, they stripped me of them. The teachings of her scolding me for frowning or crying stood bold in the forefront of my mind. You'd think that she'd come with something along the lines of "Strong girls don't cry" or some crap like that but nope, her reasoning was that "Smiling and frowning makes frown lines and we need to look perfect" I shook away the thoughts as I listened to my mother spur verbal diarrhea.

"If I could I'd marry off your sister because unlike you, she has sense but you know what the church would thi―" "What is wrong with you― Nyla's been sixteen for only three months― Are you insane―"

She slapped me hard, a reminder that she― "Will not tolerate disrespect from a child". As much as I wanted to retaliate, I held out, rubbing the left side of my face as she continued.

"You WILL listen to you us and meet Mr. & Mrs. Nightingale's son tonight"

Oh great, the Nightingales. Another perfect family, I wonder how'd they feel if they found out that their precious son was really up to. What's his name again? Jevaughn? Jaxon? Do I even care? Mmcht

She did a once over of me before adding "Be in the church in less than 5, you will be leading choir today" Didn't even ask me to

We went separate ways; my mother to my father and I to a powder room. Composing myself once more, I hurried inside the church in front of the choir loft, feeling relief when I spotted not a questioning stare. I've learnt to hide how I felt truly behind a faux smile quite well If I do say so myself, but no matter how much I tried my eyes remained glassy― tears threatening to betray thr façade at any moment.

I gave a tight-lipped smile to the congregation as they welcomed my appearance with cheers. I laughed when Tía Rio moved to the front row in midst of the clapping, she waved to me and I did likewise but a little more erratically. She's an amazing person to know and really a nice woman, a great woman that does her best for her family. It painfully excruciates me how these women could sit on her name and belittle her as if they were someone to look up to. She's definitely a better individual than those in this church that like to claim they are combined. But the day I go off on them, I'll let them know.

After thanking the usher for the microphone I ran back to the choir unsure which song to perform. A few members suggested traditional songs and favorites, one stuck out most to me though: Man in the mirror by Michael Jackson. I bit my lip contemplating the decision, we just started to sing (somewhat) church-related pop songs in church so I was a bit hesitant; but as I said, relating, some of these people need to hear it.

I announced the choice to the band members before returning to my position, clearing my throat as I scanned the audience. No, I wasn't scared, I've done this too many times to be. Receiving a signal from the drummer I allowed the choir to voice the opening, joining when they started the second verse. Eventually, we approached the high note as I begged for my throat to not close up. I looked around the room.

“I'm starting with the man in the mirror I'm asking him to change his ways And no message could've been any clearer If you wanna make the world a better place Take a look at yourself and then make a change”

You're staring

You're still staring

Despite the song being half-finished everyone started to clap, giving a literal standing ovation. Did some of them finally heed the meaning? Coming down from the high, I took focus in my vision. Was I looking at Miles this whole time? Widening my eyes at the realization had him chuckling, he waved before continuing to clap.

First time without a stoic expression and I'm wishing he smiled more. I put a palm in the middle of my face to loosely hide my smile before waving back. A few of the young men waved even though it wasn't directed to them. Looking over to their spots Miles and I shook our heads.

Behind me, my father cleared his throat, the harsh sound reminding me of my earlier troubles. My expression died down quickly. Instead of beside my family I sat in the first row in the choir loft. Miles moved to the front of the church to his mother who began to question him about something. She turned to me and smiled, speaking softly "You did amazing" Although I couldn't hear too well over the preaching, I pieced out her words, thanking her in return.

Usually, I'd be somewhere discreetly using my phone but it was different today. My eyes moved back and forth from my father to Miles who did likewise; giggling each time we made eye contact at same.

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

Even though I didn't want to, I gathered the strength to partake in the seemingly mandatory post-service meet and greet

"'Ah dear, meet one of my good friends. Robert this is (y/n), (y/n), Robert"

The man whom he was introducing looked worn out, wrinkles showing in every crevice in his face despite (from what I've heard) being in his late 30's. He wore gold grills on his bottom canines, which I would hate to say matches well with his black and white suit.

"Hello, I'm (y/n). Pleasured to meet you"

"Likewise"

His voice came off hoarse, sounding as if someone who had smoked for a week straight finally took a breath.

Even though opting for a simple handshake, the man dragged me into an uncomfortable hug. And I mean uncomfortable, his hands trailed all about my back, quickening its pace heading underneath the mid-back vest I wore. I pulled back, crushing the man's toes with my heel as I did.

"I'm so sorry"

I innocently smiled at the grunting man that held onto his loafer tightly. With the hand resting on his left forearm I would've pinched him if my father didn't take him away. I saw my mother introducing Nyla to some boy of her age. Ew.

About 10 footsteps away I felt a warm hand on my shoulder that sent me tumbling. I probably would've fell if I wasn't caught by the hug afterwards.

"Tía Rio" I paused, resting a hand on my chest before continuing

"Hola hija"

She pulled me back into her embrace before stepping backwards.

"You were absolutely amazing out there― as always" "'Thank you tía, that truly means a lot to me" "Oh hush, I know you've heard that about a thousand times now" "Well, it means a lot from you"

We laughed a bit before she started to pat down her bag. "Before I forget" She dipped her hand into its largest compartment before taking out something wrapped in colorful tissue paper. "Here"

Handing it over I could tell by the texture that it was some type of food― cookies probably. At this point they were a symbolic part of our relationship.

------------ Flashback twin

The cold December air on the exposed skin on your knee was doing you no good. Said cold wind was what had you like this. With a snotty-nose you were headed to your mothers purse for a tissue. And when she was nowhere to be found, you frantically ran around in search for her, convinced this was some sick game of hide-and-seek.

Sitting in a random slide with your feet up to your chest, you felt tears rush when a boy with hair slightly longer than the others saw you crying and hurriedly turned back.

"If it's another stray cat we're not keeping it" "No mama"

The same boy came through the other end of the slide, pointing at you. Not knowing what else to do, you hid your head between your legs and chest, bringing it up at sudden speech directed to you.

"My mommy says you should come down. She wants to see you"

Bringing your head up by the slightest, you could see the boy's extending hand in front of your face. "You have to get out because mommy's too fat to fit in" The woman who you figured to be his mother had her mouth agape, her shocked expression turning soft when you two started to laugh.

Holding onto his hand you both slid down, the adrenaline numbing the pain in your knee. Immediately after standing up she noticed your blood stained shorts, rushing you to a nearby bench.

"¿Qué tal? How did this happen?" Even though opening your mouth for words none came out, 6-year-old you unsure how to explain the situation. Understanding your frustration she spoke up. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me" She gave you a comforting smile. Which in return had you smiling, then her son, revealing the front tooth he recently lost.

After she finished bandaging your knee she began to put her belongings back into her bag, leaving out just one thing. A floral pink and white decorative tissue. She handed it to her son who quickly hid it behind his back the moment it touched his hand.

"I wanted the purple paper mama. Pink is for girls" His mother crossed her arms, tilting her head "Do you want me to take them back?" He shook his head no, bringing out the stuffed paper with his free hand. His other was still laced into yours. He placed the tissue beside you, jumping up onto the bench so the pastries sat between you two. He brought one up to your face.

"Want one?" Being thoroughly instructed to never take anything from anyone in public made you decline― or try to. Opening your lips to refuse politely, he pushed quarter of a cookie into your mouth.

"MILES―" "Yes, mama" He smiled innocently, turning towards his mother. She stood shaking her head in disapproval, sighing in relief that you didn't choke.

"Do you like them?" He paused waiting for an answer, receiving a satisfied hum, he gloated "My mom made them" He looked at the cookies still stacked high "Want more?"

Even though saying yes once to the question, Miles seemingly made it a priority to ensure there were always enough cookies in case he ever saw you again. Given the amount of times he woke up to a fresh batch and reminded his mother of his constant request, it became robotic like clockwork to her.

''Mama, did you make enough for-'' ''Yes, I made enough for you and your little girlfriend"

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

"Yeah huh?" The sudden high pitch of her voice brought me back to Earth. The one place I don't want to be right now "This is my son, Miles. I'm sure you remember him"

I hummed in response, turning my back to my family's faces to draw any unwanted press while shaking his hand. Retracting his hands he gave that signature one-dimple smile which I felt shy to return.

"Nice to meet you" He raised a brow

"We're met before, did you forget?" I literally proposed to you with a ring pop

"Ah my bad, we have to leave― Early shifts at the hospital"

"I completely understand, get home safely" She placed her hands over my balled fists, giving me a bright smile before departing. Her son lingering behind her followed in tow, waving as he left.

"What was that (y/n)? I hope you're not talking to those people outside of church matters" My mother stood closely behind my back, so she could freely show her disgusted expression without judgement. I turned to meet her wild looking eyes of age 38.

And I thought ursula didn't exist

"No mother, I would never do such things" She said nothing but a hum, which on her part would be 'not gracing me with an answer'

"Be at the south porch at evening. We have something to discuss"

What the heck did I do.

In the Larkspur mansion there's a total of four sub-buildings: The north porch used for house-warmings, general church meetings and such, pool house to the east, church to the west, and the south porch. The south meant nothing good, being the farthest sectioned from the house it was an analogy for things to be said in the dark and only in the dark, something grave like an affair. Things like that, things that could change a person's life and given by the term 'we', probably meaning my father, mother and I. I know that whatever they had to tell could change my life for the better or worse. But by now we know that anything 'for the better' would be just for them so that's not even an option.

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

Sitting down with his legs spread my father watched as my mother pranced back and forth the hardwood floor, prepping herself to say whatever it was. She looked as if the words she were about to speak pricked her tongue before they came out and whenever they did. I watched with a blank expression, hands crossed on my stomach as the fluffed material radiated heat to every crevice of my body.

"Cecelia" His paitience wore thin as the whiskey from the glass ran low. My mother repeated the same words she had over 100 times since we've been here

"This is ridiculous, certainly there's something else" My father sucked his teeth reverting all the attention to him and he chugged the last of the liquor. Although not meaning to I stared into my his eyes with some hope he'd continued what my mother couldn't start. His stare got intense, hardening every minute the contest went on.

My grandmother always told me that "It come like puss bruk coconut in yuh fada yiy" meaning that he was one with seemingly dry eyes or that he was an ill-mannered person to hold a stare to absolutely no limits or regard to who it be with. She always told me that it was something I inherited from him but unlike my father it looked better on me.

"You're changing schools"

I swear to you my eyes nearly dropped out of their sockets is a sign?

"Recently there's been a spike in teenage pregnancies at CHS and with such a tainted image we cannot have you attending there so, we had arranged a transfer for you to Brooklyn Visions"

Despite the sudden relief radiating from my body I sat still, muttering a compliant response before getting up to the exit. "And you're meeting with-" My father got cut off by my mother placing a hand on his upper thigh. Through my peripheral I could see her smirking as I went off.

I love my parents right, but sometimes (most times really) I swear— I'm going crazy in this house

--------------------------- like 2 days later

If it's one thing I know though— the sexism is gonna get you right. Long nails, lashes makeup and everything was one point but maybe there was one teeny tinyy thing you despised, clothes. You knew that Cinderella princess wardrobe of yours was too much and so you were going to argue for it.

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

As we were leaving I contemplated asking for some new clothes — speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Mother "

"Y/N?"

"Aren't we getting new clothes"

"And why would we do that? You have a plethora of dresses back home"

"That's it, the dresses are a bit.... pricy and might get the attention of the wrong crowd. I mean other than the great neighborhood around Brooklyn Visions there's its opposite too" I sucked in a breath knowing that this could go one of two ways— I could get what I want or they'd put an ankle monitor on me.

"I guess I'd never look at it from that perspective. Atleast that brain of yours works"

Excuse me.

Despite that little backhanded thing I smiled, that's 1 point for Y/N.

--------

So that's it, I'm too lazy to decorate ATM but I will

#black tumblr #earth 42 miles x reader #spotify #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #across the spiderverse #e42 miles #dae

62 notes · View notes

smileysuh · 7 months

Text

- MARK LEE

works. 5 I words. 86.7k

solo works. 2 works featuring other members. 3

Real Talk - Mark

☕️ synopsis. “You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.

🐻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k I restaurant au

Sunday Kind of Love - Mark

☕️ synopsis. Mark is fine with having a crush on the girl in the library. He’s fine watching her from afar. And he’s fine with never speaking a word to the girl who he spends many nights chasing in his dreams. But fate, and a few nosey frat brothers, think Mark would be much better if he was forced to talk to the cute girl from the library that he can’t seem to get out of his head.

tw/cw. inexperienced/soft reader, frat nct, extreme pining, tooth hurting sweetness, the softest boy in the world, a love so pure it’s going to hurt you, oral (f/m receiving), dry humping, tiddie worship, multiple orgasms, switchy/no bdsm role Mark, etc..

🐻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 35.8k I frat au

Send In The Clowns - Mark I ft. Jaehyun & Haechan

☕️ synopsis. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.

cw/ tw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.

🐻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k I frat

Sunday Sinner - Mark I ft. Haechan

☕️ preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

🐻 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k I frat

Roommates - Mark I ft. Haechan

☕️ synopsis. as Jungwoo's best friend, you have your pick of fratboys to date, including Jeno, who has a huge crush on you. But you're only attracted to Lee's that come in pairs, and you can't get roommates Mark and Hyuck off your mind.

🐻 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k I frat

✘ masterlist

#mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee masterlist #nct #nct masterlist #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream masterlist #nct 127 masterlist #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

145 notes · View notes

sh1-n0bu · 1 year

Note

Hi love

I stumbled upon ur blog and ahh love ur writting i wad thinking maybe if ur requests are open that u could write a lil smth IF UR FREE OFCI

was thinking scaramouche x reader argument (angst to fluff :the ansgt shouldnt be brutal bc i dont hsndle it well)

Or if ur not comfy writting that u could doo

Scaramouche x reader scara accidentally confesses to reader??

Dont overwork urself and remember to eat <3

✿ 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 ✿

characters: scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: just a cute fluffy fic<3333, a bit of a namecalling and cursing but then again it’s scara we’re talking abt, yearning, scara don’t knowing what to do with feelings, i say traveler so you can think of it as either sibling you want, it’s more from scara’s and 3rd pov

notes: hi hi hi! absolutely loving the fact i’m getting requests ehe~ i thought of going with the argument one but i’m afraid it might get a bit too dark bc i absolutely love angst😔 i’m sorry luv. but i hope you don’t mind this one cuz i literally started working on it right as i got it lmaoooo. also the song mentioned is “rises the moon” highly recommend

“wait, hold, pause. you’re telling me that you keep staring at [name] is because you love them??? as in??? love love?????? as in romantically??? “holy shit i’m feeling emotions” way??? as in-“

“godDAMMIT TRAVELER YES! I LIKE THEM OKAY!” this was definitely not how scaramouche wanted his secret infatuation with you to slip out. so if you’re wondering just what in the name of all the dead or alive gods’ is happening then let’s rewind a little bit.

—

you were always with the traveler and their stupid little pixie. constantly supporting them, helping people, traveling around teyvat, making friends and some enemies and accidentally stealing the the heart of a certain bowl-cut head.

he first met you during his plan in mondstadt to ambush the traveler. just as he was about to strike them, your claymore was thrown in front of him, blocking his path and the astrologist managed to escape with the traveler and the chatty girl. immediately sending electro strikes to your presumed location only to find a scorched jacket instead.

the second was during the delusion factory incident. when the balladeer charged at the weakened and drugged traveler, you appeared once again, protecting your companions and clashing against the harbinger. even after the traveler passed out and the drugs was starting to make you see hallucinations, you still fought earnestly. and that was the first impressive thing about you. the second being, you, a lowly mortal being able to fight toe to toe against a hundreds of years old merciless harbinger like him. and the third was how incredibly loyal you were. while he shot electro made weapons at you, the balladeer had briefly wondered if you were his friend, would you have protected him just like how you were protecting the traveler and their pixie.

the third time, he was no longer a harbinger but a god. the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom. since he has ascended to godhood, he would have followers and he had proudly asked you if you would become one. but you were headstrong and still disgustingly loyal to yourself and to your friend, the traveler. the everlasting lord has never felt more jealous of someone since his disposal as a failure.

after the battle ended and the dust cleared, his gnosis was taken away.

how dare they! how dare those weak, disgusting pests! how could the world be so cruel! why does it keep taking away things that are rightfully his! it wasn’t fair!

as he fell from the destroyed mechanical robot, the broken puppet felt himself being caught and cradled in someone’s arms. he was too tired to even care but he hoped it was you.

the fourth time was when he met you as the wanderer. not the manipulative, blood thirsty harbinger but simply as scaramouche, the wanderer. the boy who regained his heart. at first you kept your guards up. anyone who isn’t stupid would. yet slowly your little group began to feel more and more like a group of friends just traveling around the world together. paimon, traveler alongside yourself taught scaramouche about the humane side of things, while he would help with battle tactics, training and sometimes keeping guard during the night. it was oddly… sweet.

during your travels together, the purple eyed eccentric learned more about you. you liked slow dancing under the stars sometimes, you didn’t like the hot sun of the afternoon, loves to make silly, meaningless little things such as flower crowns and wood carvings. hates how your friends or companions would injure themselves during a fight. it was all so very strange but so, endearing.

one night, the traveler couldn’t fall asleep due to nightmares plaguing their mind and you hummed a gentle song to them. something about closing their eyes, going to sleep and the moon will surely rise again. he wondered if you would sing to him if he were to cry in his sleep or grew restless due to nightmares.

the wanderer would watch as you chide the traveler and paimon for walking into danger like idiots as you clean their wounds with the gentlest touch. he thought of how you would treat him if he was injured.

scaramouche saw how the traveler and their companion would joyously yell your name and throw themselves at you shouting “catch!” as you three would reunite with a hug after doing some commissions separately.

he wanted to be the one to be hugged by you instead. he wanted to push the traveler and their loud pixie away and throw himself into your arms. how warm you would feel, how you would remind him of a warm summer night filled with laughter and story telling, how he wanted to close his eyes and drown himself in your everything. your smile, gentle humming in the night, silly little antics, weird 3am thoughts, your kiss until every sense and thought of him is just filled by you and only you. only you and no one or nothing else.

scaramouche soon understood what this longing feeling was. it was called “love”. but how can a puppet ever learn to love? aren’t puppets just a hollow being made only to follow their orders and entertain? would he be no longer a discarded puppet if he were to feel emotions? would scaramouche be seen as human if he fall in love with you?

and he concluded that he was no puppet. he was no hollow husk of a being for he had a heart. he was no being made to entertain for he had cut his strings. he was no puppet for he had emotions. he was scaramouche. and scaramouche fell in love with you.

ever since he realized his feelings and his desires, he would always stare at you. his mind filled with daydreams of how it would feel like to kiss you. his body feeling a little colder without you to gently hold him. his heart feeling twisted whenever he sees you smiling at someone that wasn’t him. his hand feeling empty because you weren’t linking yours with his.

dammit all. he was hopelessly, foolishly in love. and that is where it leads to the current situation. the traveler noticed how the wanderer would always stare at you whenever you didn’t notice and they decided to confront him of it. turns out it was the complete opposite of what they were thinking. sadly it seems like the victim in questioning shouted a bit too loud because now you were standing beside them in your sleepwear, wide awake and clearing your throat.

you woke up because these three idiots wouldn’t stop chattering in the middle of the night and your light sleeper self had woken up. just as you were rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and grumbling curses under your breath you heard scaramouche’s not so secret confession. now don’t get me wrong, you had feelings for the purple eyed male but due to all four of you traveling together, you didn’t want to make things awkward. well, seems like that just got thrown out the window.

“ahem” three different reaction happened all at once. scaramouche looked like he wanted to bury himself right then and there, paimon gasped dramatically and the traveler gave scaramouche a knowing smirk. that little shit.

“traveler, paimon could you two please excuse us for a while?”

“sure. but don’t get too heated you two” oh that little pesky traveler. you’ll get them back for this. after waiting a while for them to disappear out of sight, you faced the tomato faced scaramouche. he didn’t know what to think, say or what kind of an excuse to come up with to save his life. so he tipped his head down, hoping you won’t see his red face but that hope was squashed when he felt you hand on his cheeks. tilting his head to look at you, he saw a smile on your face.

with the moon shining on you and him and the soft glow of crystalflies floating around, you looked even more ethereal. if true beauty were to be sculpted, it would be you. so incredibly flawed, humane but so incredibly otherworldly.

cupping his cheeks in both of your hands and tilting his face, you lowly whispered if it would be okay to kiss him. all he could do was nod like a meek, shy boy. and when you finally, finally kissed him after his months of longing it felt like all of the crystalflies around were now floating around in his stomach. his mind getting filled by the thoughts of only you and him in this moment and his heart racing miles a minute. when you pulled away, he chased after your lips like a depraved man. throwing his arms around your neck and pulling you back towards him, it felt like everything was right.

he is scaramouche. and he fell in love with you.

—

bonus:

“awww, two lovers connected by fate. PAIMON WANTS TO BE INVITED TO THE WED - bonk”

#nobu.writes #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin x reader #scaramouche x you #no beta we die like rex lapis #x gn reader

572 notes · View notes

muddyorbsblr · 2 years

Text

secret notes part 1: miss invisible

Masterlist

Summary: It's Tony's New Year's Eve party and Loki asks you about the tradition of New Year's Kisses.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warning/s: mentions of alcohol

Things to be aware of: idiots in love, angst

"Babes, you're staring again. Actually, don't move, let me just get…" Natasha leaned over the table to put a napkin to the corner of your mouth. "There we go. Just to be sure you're not drooling. Yet."

"Fuck off, Romanoff," you grumbled, taking another large sip of the strawberry margarita in front of you. As you felt the alcohol make its way through your bloodstream, you slurred, "I wasn't even staring."

That was a lie, obviously. You'd spent the better part of Stark's year-end Ball Drop Party in a prolonged state of lamenting. Over what? Over the black-haired devastatingly attractive Asgardian who was the recipient of the sultry attentions of a Victoria's Secret Angel.

"If you were a wooden puppet, your nose would have grown, Y/N," Wanda quipped from beside you, making you throw a table napkin her way. "Hey don't go throwing things at me just because I'm speaking in facts. I don't understand why you don't just tell him how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"How about we start with he could hate me, Wan? Not just reject me, but outright get so angry with me that he wouldn't blink an eye if I got compromised in the field? We can start there. I can't risk someone I trust to have my back when I'm behind enemy lines just because I have feelings." Your words were coming out slurred but your thoughts were still fairly articulate.

"Alright everybody, it's an hour to midnight and our live entertainment for the night has ended their final set, which means we're opening up the mic to anyone who wants to wow us with their hidden musical prowess," Tony announced as he took the stage while the band was packing up their equipment. "Stage is open for everyone. Avengers, actors, politicians. Grab the mic when the spirit moves you. And Happy New Year, you beautiful beautiful creatures."

"I'm gonna sing," Wanda announced. "Nat come on we should go sing something."

"Like what?"

"We can figure it out on the way." Wanda started jutting her head toward the stage, throwing Nat a look, which made the Russian spy vacate her seat in the booth. "Y/N? You wanna sing with us and we can go for Spice Girls?" She held out a hand toward you, which you politely declined.

"Singing's not my thing," you deadpanned. "And I'm pretty sure that nails on a board isn't everyone's thing, either," you joked.

"Alright. Suit yourself." Nat laid a hand on your shoulder as she acknowledged someone coming in from behind you. "Hey, Laufeyson." You felt her pat your shoulder twice before she stepped away and walked with Wanda toward the stage.

As your friends made their way to the stage, you felt a faint touch on your shoulder, making the little hairs on your neck stand up. You looked up to see Loki standing over you with a small smile on his face, seemingly amused at something. Dammit he must've seen my goosebumps. Stupid, Y/N. Just utterly stupid. You struggled to seamlessly compose yourself and return his smile.

"Would you mind for some company, darling?"

Your heart fluttered at the name, despite knowing it was completely out of line. There was no hidden meaning, no affection, behind his calling you "darling". You knew this, and regardless your heart skipped beats, the warmth washing over your entire body.

Most likely because every part of you desperately wished that it did hold that affection you so craved from the god.

"Not at all," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady. You scooted over in the booth to allow more than enough room for him to sit without you crowding each other's personal space. "Go ahead."

His smile brightened as he slid into the booth next to you, positioning himself so close that your legs pressed against each other. Your heart started thumping in your chest as you spied his arm draped over the cushioned seat behind you, effectively pressing his side into yours now as well.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need some guidance on this holiday's particular tradition, dear Y/N," he said over the sound of Natasha and Wanda currently enjoying themselves belting out their rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. You gave him a look to say 'go ahead' and he continued speaking. "Why are these people looking to kiss someone when midnight strikes?"

You laughed at the question. "Did someone ask you to be their New Year's Kiss, Mischief?"

"There were a few rather…promiscuous offers. Of kisses that they intended to lead to…" He cleared his throat. "More." You fought to mask the unwarranted pain you were feeling at the thought of these goddess-caliber beauties so shamelessly offering their bodies to him, and him taking them up on their offer. "Tell me about this…New Year's Kiss?"

You struggled to form words together, your mind still screaming at you over his proximity. So close that if you made the mistake to look into his eyes you'd drown. That if you even breathed the wrong way his scent would imprint itself into your memory and stay there for all eternity.

"It's a…superstition," you started. You watched as he looked at some of the other partygoers with a near murderous look in his eyes and held your breath as you felt his arm move from the seat to gently wrap around you, his hand loosely closing around your arm.

And then his mood shifted as he shifted his gaze back to you, the smile on his face returning as he said, "Go on, darling."

"So the superstition goes that what ever it is you do in the first moments of the new year, that's what you're manifesting into the coming year for your life. Some people jump for the hope that they'll become taller, please don't do that you're tall enough already." Your words made him laugh with a big toothy grin that nearly made your heart melt on the spot. "And some people have a New Year's Kiss to…manifest a relationship into the coming year. Companionship, romance, mostly romance."

"And who do you plan on kissing at midnight?" His words were spoken so softly, with such a tenderness, you could have sworn it was like he was trying to caress you with them.

"Nobody," you answered him. "I don't buy into the whole manifestation thing."

"And of the years you chose to not kiss anyone at the stroke of midnight, how many of them did you spend without companionship? Without romance?" His tone was almost teasing before it grew nearly ominous. "For I've been approached by quite a few of the male attendees of this soiree, and they've been curious to see if I could steer you their way."

"You?" you nearly choked at the audacity of these men he talked about. "They asked you?"

"They've been querying with many of us."

As Steve started singing a depressing tune about hurting the one you love on stage, you took a quick look around the floor, noting the borderline lusty eyes of a handful of men staring in the direction of your booth. At the sight of one of them blatantly licking his lips, you flinched, causing Loki to slightly tighten his hold on you, almost protectively. When you looked back at him, you saw the near murderous gaze once more and you wondered to yourself if it had anything to do with those lecherous stares being thrown your way.

Nah, surely it can't be, you told yourself. Must be someone else he's glaring daggers at. After all, what did he care about people wanting to lock lips with you at midnight?

"Well they're fresh out of luck because I don't do anything in the first moments of the year. Just in case I'm wrong and there's truth to this hokum? Then doing nothing means my life would stay exactly the same. And I'm content with that."

The last words tasted bitter as they escaped your mouth. Of course, you were content. You were surrounded by extraordinary people you were lucky to call your friends, and you aided said extraordinary people in keeping the world safe as best you can. You had found near sisters in Natasha and Wanda, and in them a family you only dreamt of having once upon a time.

You were even lucky enough to have this weird borderline flirty friendship with Loki. And you were content with all of that.

Did you want more out of that last one? Of course you did. But you had a firm enough grip on reality to know that it wasn't something feasible, something to plan for. It was something to hope for on every shooting star, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion, sure. It was a pipe dream.

"So now that you know what the tradition's all about," you broke the tense silence between you, making him turn his gaze back to you. "You should probably take one of those drop dead gorgeous women up on their offer."

"I would rather decline them," he said, his gaze unwavering.

"And why is that?"

"They're not, how you Midgardians would say, 'my type'." You eyed him incredulously. "What is it, darling?"

"These are some of the most beautiful people walking this planet right now, and they're--they're not your type??" You had to raise the volume of your voice once more as Sam started chaotically singing both parts of Love the Way You Lie and sounding like he was having a grand time at that.

Loki shrugged at your question. "They are beautiful, I'll agree there. But I prefer my women capable of holding conversations that go beyond telling me how they admire my physique. The kind whose eyes I can gaze into and I can see the intelligence, the passion, in them. What I look for is beyond the physical, for if we take away the carnal desire, or at least move past it, I would very much like to find that there is something left to hang on to."

You were speechless. No words came to mind in response except, "I see." Then you took another deep, steadying breath. "So I take it you're going to do like me and opt for nothing in the first moments of the new year?"

A small smirk played on his face. "Perhaps I am content with the state of my life as well, Y/N." He shifted in the booth so that he was facing the stage, watching in amusement as Sam once again pitched his voice so high for the chorus of the song, and then proceeding to tighten his embrace on you once more by just the slightest amount. "You chose not to partake in the open stage?" You shook your head at him. "That's a shame. You have a lovely voice, to put it into song would undoubtedly bless many ears tonight."

You ducked your head slightly to avoid blushing at his words. "Too many eyes. I…I don't really do well performing in front of crowds," you answered, trying to sound nonplussed at his compliment. "And since we're on the topic of pretty voices…why aren't you singing?"

Your words got him breaking out into a smile and chuckling again. "The music I've taken a liking to here on Midgard might not match the mood for such celebrations." You bit your tongue. You could say the same for yourself, considering that the only songs currently coming to mind were sappy love songs that you only ever dared dedicate to him in your dreams.

"We just had Rogers try to put the entire party into a depression, I'm sure you couldn't make it any worse," you answered back, your quip making him throw his head back in an infectious laugh.

"Okay that's enough of that," Tony spoke up, once again taking the stage. "It's two minutes to midnight, which means it's that time of the year we're all non-contractually obligated to listen to Auld Lang Syne. Who wants to do the honors?"

Loki watched with a fondness in his heart as you cupped your hands over your mouth and shouted "NATASHA!!" in the direction of the stage, revealing an undeniably adorable smile once you put your hands down. The kind that made your dimple show, the very same one he itched to press his lips to every time he saw it.

"I'll get you back for this, Y/L/N," the Russian spy said into the microphone before she started to sing the almost melancholy tune and a timer began to count down, projected on the walls and above the stage.

This is it. This is my only chance, he thought to himself as the timer whittled down to the final 10 seconds and the attendees began to chant the time left.

He tucked his free hand under your chin, gently turning you to look at him. Seven.

"In case there's truth to the hokum," he said softly. Five. "To us finding companionship. Or romance." Three.

"To not being alone," you whispered back. Two.

As the people chanted "One!" and fireworks were launched into the sky, he gently, and all too briefly, pressed his lips to yours, his heart nearly soaring as he felt you kiss him back.

Only to feel that very same heart plummet to the ground as he felt you pull away after mere moments, and whisper, "Happy New Year, Mischief." And then you turned to watch the fireworks, the vibrant colors illuminating your face in such a way that had him struggling to look away from you.

He briefly considered finding one of the women who offered him physical companionship for the night, taking her up on the offer to, in her words, "start off the new year with a bang", but he knew that ultimately the affair would end bleakly. For in the morning he would wake, and he would still yearn for the same person. He would relentlessly pick apart his bedmate in the privacy of his own thoughts and tick off all the ways that she wasn't you.

So he dismissed the thought, resigning himself to being simply content with your companionship. Even though he desperately wished for even the most remote possibility that he could engage in a romance with you.

"Happy New Year, darling," he sighed.

When you retreated to your room for the night, your heart was pounding in your chest. What the fuck was that? you thought to yourself. You couldn't wrap your head around what happened at the stroke of midnight. All those models and actresses draping themselves over him and abandoning all self-respect to kiss him at midnight, and he chose to stay in a little booth, watching the chaos unfold, with you.

And then he proceeded to kiss you at the end of the timer, "in case there was truth to the hokum", he said. Did he simply not wish to follow through with what everyone else offered, and that was why he chose to kiss a friend instead? Was he even aware of what type effect that had on you? Did he—oh holy fuck did he know?

Did he know that you started having feelings for him and that was done out of pity? Poor little lonely Avenger, choosing to live out her life alone, maybe if she got a kiss from a literal god, she wouldn't look so pitiful at the ball drop? Fuck, that was probably it.

He was probably back in his room with that Victoria's Secret Angel right now. Kissing her, touching her, fucking her in ways that only in your wildest dreams would he ever do to you. With you.

Alright, lonely one, it's a new year. Make a resolution. Right here. Right now. You're gonna get all these feelings you have for Loki out. One way or another, by the end of the year they'll be gone, and things can go back to the way they were before you started falling for him.

And that was how it started. A pact with yourself that you would somehow expel these feelings. You needed an outlet, and you started writing down songs that you'd started to associate with the raven-haired god.

Then you snuck into the Operations stock room and procured one of their mics on standby, brought it into your closet, plugged it into your laptop, and pressed Record.

And thus The Lonely Avenger on YouTube was born. With her first upload: Miss Invisible.

A/N: And so it begins! Welcome to the new series, hope you're all as excited to read it as I am to write it and sing for it, and for those who requested to be part of the tags before the first chapter was even out? I hope the wait was worth it.

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston

secret notes: @taro-gabi @kats72 @rmoonstoner @moonlightreader649 @loz-3 @beata1108 @fandumbug @crystaldragonborne @goblinhobo @nataliewalker93 @highkeysimpingforloki @constablewafflebottom @gracecaldwellx

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

430 notes · View notes

spookyghostbunny · 1 year

Note

ooooo okay hmmmm how about 11. “How can someone not be ticklish??” and 20"C'mon. Smile." with Lee howdy (he desrves more love) and Ler(s) of your choice? If thats alright with you?If not feel free to switch it around uwu -pandabuna

Fluff fluffy fluff fluff :3

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

"What! How can someone not be ticklish!?"

Howdy shrugged, putting the last of the toppings onto Barnaby's hot dog. "Not sure what to tell you, mate. I'm not ticklish." He handed the hotdog to the beagle with a teasy smile. "Unlike some other residents that I know~"

Barnaby accepted the treat, quickly chomping into it choosing to ignore the comment.

Wally stared at Howdy from his place on the counter. "I don't think that's true, neighbor." He said, innocently swinging his legs.

Howdy nervously scratched the back of his head. Sometimes Wally's intense gaze got to him. Luckily, Sally and Julie walked in to save him from an answer.

"Why is Wally on the counter?" Sally asked.

"He likes being tall." Barnaby replied, patting the smallest puppet's head with a chuckle.

Wally squeaked and batted Barnaby's paw away from his gorgeous hair. He turned to face the newcomers. "Howdy says he isn't ticklish, but I don't believe him."

"What!" Both girls shouted in unison.

Oh Wally. Always straight to the point.

"How can someone not be ticklish?!" Julie exclaimed, staring at Howdy in disbelief.

"That's what I said!" Barnaby mumbled through another big bite of hot dog. Wally covered his face to avoid getting hit from the specks that flew out of the dog's mouth. "Barnaby!"

Barnaby swallowed his food before apologizing. "Whoops! Sorry kiddo," he chuckled awkwardly.

Wally grumbled deciding to hop off the counter and join standing next to the girls. He had an important scheme to conspire with them. They lent over as he beckoned them closer, whispering his plan only for them to hear.

Howdy rolled his eyes at his friends antics. "Like I said earlier: I'm just not ticklish. Never have been and never will be." He said this confidently. He was lying of course, but the others didn't need to know that. He was the number one ler in this close-knit neighborhood. Him being lee seemed impossible.

Or so it seemed~

"If you'll excuse me- I have to finish something in the back." Howdy darted quickly for the caterpillars only room. He hopes he successfully escaped the conversation and that they would drop it since he left.

Barnaby had finished his hot dog so now watched the smaller trio curiously. His ears perked up, trying to catch what they were saying. What was so hush hush? Why couldn't he be in the loop?

Julie giggled and bounced In excitement while Sally was rubbing her hands together with an evil look. They got into position, acting normal until given the signal. Now Barnaby was really confused.

His confusion didn't last long.

Wally looked around, making sure Howdy was out of sight before walking back over to the blue pupper. He tugged on his vest, motioning him to lean down so he could whisper in his ear.

Barnaby's tail wagged at being included with whatever the mischievous puppets were up to. He leaned down, listening carefully as the bluenette told him the super secret plan. He smirked and nodded once Wally finished telling him all the details. "You got it, bud!" He winked, hopping off the stool to hide.

Now it was time for the master plan to begin.

"Howdy! Hurry! Wally is trying to steal your apples again!" Sally called, putting as much urgency in her voice as she could.

Howdy sighed in annoyance. This was the fourth time today! He hurried out to stop the little apple obsessed thief. "Wally! I told you-" He was cut short when something behind him restrained his top arms. "Get him!" That was Barnaby's voice! What on earth was going on!? The other three puppets surrounded him, each sporting identical impish grins. "What is the meaning of this!?" He demanded, struggling against Barnaby's strong hold.

"You said you weren't ticklish! We wanted to find out for ourselves if that's true or not." Sally replied causally, her excitement increasing at seeing Howdy's eyes widen in realization.

Oh dear.

Howdy tried to shoo them away with his free hands, but was rewarded with Julie's hands shooting to squeeze his sides. "Mmfff!!" He lurched forward with a muffled squeal. He closed his eyes shut, struggling to keep his smile down and laughter at bay. The caterpillar wasn't going to give these tricksters the satisfaction of a reaction. His hands grabbed Julie's wrists, but Wally and Sally took it upon themselves to both tickle his stomach.

Wally snickered. "Not ticklish, eh?"

Howdy shook his head. He was wiggling around like a- well- like a caterpillar at this point. But no amount of wiggling he did dislodged the skillful fingers seeking to free his laughter. Sally went all out with tasing the sides of his stomach. Wally on the other hand chose a more gentle approach, lazily tracing shapes like he was painting a picture. And Julie switched from squeezing to scribbling his sides up and down. It was a lot to take, and surprisingly the shop keeper was holding on pretty well.

"You're a tough cookie, aren't ya? C'mon! Smile~" Barnaby purred, nuzzling Howdy's neck wanting to get in on the tickling action too.

Howdy couldn't fight it anymore. His face instantly broke into a wide, wobbly smile. He scrunched up his shoulders, but it didn't protect him from the beagle's fluffy snoot.

Howdy was getting dangerously close to breaking.

"There you go, Howdy!" Julie cheered, her fingers wandering up to Howdy's armpits. "Laugh! Laugh! Laugh!" She chanted.

The others joined in on the chanting

"Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh!"

That did it. Howdy couldn't hold the ticklish butterflies in any longer. He exploded into loud laughter from holding it in for so long. (and because maybe his armpits were his worst spots shhhhh) "PFFFT- HAHAHA FINE! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN!!!" He cried, his whole frame shaking from the force of his laughter. His legs grew weak, but with Barnaby holding him up, he just kind of went limp in his hold.

Sally whooped in celebration, slowing down her tickling to make it gentle like Wally's.

"This is what happens when you lie to us. Neighbor." Wally teased, removing his hands altogether.

Some enough, Julie also removed her hands after noting Howdy's laughter turning a little wheezy.

Sally wanted to keep tickling, but one stern look from Julie made her stop with a disappointed pout.

Barnaby adjusted his hold on the shop keeper so Howdy was leaning against him while he recovered from the phantom tickles plaguing his nervous system.

"You alright there, pal? We didn't go too hard on ya, did we?" Barnaby asked with concern, rubbing his back soothingly.

"N-no. You're all alright." Howdy gave them a weak, but genuine smile. "That was.... actually pretty fun." He flushed at the chorus of "awws!" That filled the bodega.

Perhaps being the lee sometimes wasn't so impossible.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

We need more lee!Howdy in this house. Sweet boy deserves it. This is a bit longer than intended, but I'm happy with it☺️

#welcome home tickle #lee!howdy #ler!barnaby #ler!wally #ler!julie #ler!sally #bonus points for whoever gets the hidden reference #wally is a little shit #just like a cat #wally is a cat #roman writes things

115 notes · View notes