#And it feels weird for me to enjoy it as much as I do

[prettydaisygirl]

Hiii, can I ask for daisy, James Potter, fake dating w “could you please come and get me?” pls🥺

thank you so much, lovely <3 hope you enjoy, and i hope you're having an amazing day :)

🌼 daisy (innocence, loyalty, pure love): pick a character and an AU from the lists above & a prompt from this list and I will write a <500 word drabble

daisy's 500 follower celebration bouquet

James Potter, fake dating, and "could you please come and get me?"

cw: fem!reader, James is not our boyfriend [yet], reader is grabbed by a man she doesn't know

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Your fingers shake as you unlock your phone, fumbling as you try to scroll through your contacts to call James. There are others you could probably call, sure, but your brain doesn’t even consider it. The moment you feel unsafe, your first instinct is always to find James. He’s not your boyfriend, he’s just your friend, but you trust him.

He picks up on the first ring, his tone light and bright. “Hey, baby.” 

In any other circumstance, you’d find your heart fluttering at the pet name, but right now you hardly even register it. 

“Could you please come and get me?” You ask, hating the way your voice cracks. You’re trying to stay quiet, locked in the bathroom of some unknown home.

“Of course, love. I’m on my way, where are you?” The shift in him is instant, you can already hear him grabbing his keys and leaving his apartment.

“I don’t… know the address. Do you have my location?” Tears begin to well up in your eyes and you will yourself to stay calm until James is here. 

“I do, love. I see you.” You can hear his car engine start and the slightest bit of relief flows through you. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Are you safe, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” You croak, feeling like you’re too loud and flinch. The music flowing through the house is so loud the floors vibrate, so no one can hear you. But you’re scared. “There’s just… a weird guy who won’t leave me alone.”

James is silent on the other line for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it. “And you’re safe? You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Every second that passes, you feel a bit lighter. Like you can physically feel James getting closer to you. “I locked myself in the bathroom.”

“Okay, baby, just stay on the phone with me. I’m almost there.” 

You think he must speed, he gets there sooner than you expect. He stays on the phone with you until you hear his footsteps approaching the bathroom. He knocks, three times slowly like he always does, and when he speaks, you hear him both through the door and your phone.

“It’s me, love.” You’re on your feet instantly, throwing the door open and jumping into his arms. His smell makes you sag in relief and he hugs you tightly for a second before pulling back to look at you, staying close enough to shield you from other partygoers. 

“Let’s get you home, huh?” He asks, and takes your arm to begin leading you to the front door. 

You’re slipping through the crowd when a hand grips your wrist, tugging you away from James. You gasp, grasping for James’ hand and he finds it immediately. His expression darkens, especially when he sees the man who grabbed you.

“Where’d you run off to, huh, sugar? I’ve been lookin’ for ya.” The creepy man’s words and sly smirk are directed toward you.

“Hey!” You wouldn’t normally call James intimidating, especially since you know his personality. But right now, eyes fierce and jaw clenched, you don’t envy the man on the other end of his glare. “Back the fuck off, man.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The gross man spits, but James is quick to push you behind him, standing up to his full, towering height.

“I’m her boyfriend. Touch her again, and you’ll find out I’m much more than that.” The other man doesn’t fight. He sends you a dirty look, like somehow all of this is your fault, and scurries off.

James is quick to collect you into his arms. “You alright, my love?” His words are shaking now, and you wonder if he needs the hug just as much as you. 

The two of you don’t talk about it again, at least not that night. But you go to sleep thinking about what he’d said. 

“I’m her boyfriend.” He’d said, and then, “you alright, my love?” 

And even if it isn’t true now, you’re hoping maybe someday it can be. 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[insanebookreader]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧, 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Pairing: S6 Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Synopsis: One of the team’s rare nights off turns unexpectedly sour, for both you and Spencer. You show up with Richard, your new EMT boyfriend. He’s everything on paper…and everything Spencer knows you don’t need.

Key: 🖤★

Content warnings: Cheating but also kind of not? Reader's boyfriend is an asshole! Angsty, tension filled, there is no happy ending sorry! A little bit spicy? Not really. Spencer is YEARNINNGGG and hurting. YES, Haley is alive in this LEAVE ME ALONE. Both Spencer and Reader's POV's. I think that's all.

A/N: I wrote a lot of this like..in the early A.M's. Sleep deprived. And hungry. I hope this is good and it may or may not be my first fan-fiction..(that I wrote). Also it's not a real goodbye (you'll see later) it's more so metaphorical? I listened to a lot of angsty music while writing this. As well as horny? Do with that what you will. (I recommend "Picture You" and "Do I Wanna Know?")

Word Count: 4.9k

𝜗𝜚

Enjoy! ^-^

He had to blink, remind himself to breathe manually to snap out of it. Seeing you walk through the bar doors with him left a sour taste in his mouth, more than the cheap liquor he forcibly had been drinking. As you approached the team with that wide smile of yours that was always paired with a twinkle in your eyes, greeting them with sweet hugs and laughs– he couldn’t help but think why?

Why did you have to look so good tonight? (Though you always did) There was something particular about how your hair framed your face so perfectly though effortlessly, how you could have barely any makeup but your beauty still rivals Aphrodite’s, and how–

“Spencer?” The sweet, almost hesitant sound of your voice pulled him from his spiraling mind– and sent his heart racing at an ungodly speed at the same time. The way you gazed at him made him do two things, one, feel like his heart was in his throat and he was about to puke it up, and two, question the intensity behind it. He questioned how you could look at him like that with your new boyfriend next to you– how your eyes held this evident softness that felt meant only for him, yet also carried that blazing intensity that always reeled him in. But then he quickly reminded himself: no, there was nothing behind those breathtaking eyes of yours for him. Right?

“Right. Sorry, I was uhm..” His brows knit together in the middle tightly, a tell of his own inner turmoil that you were able to pinpoint though didn’t know the exact reasoning behind. He cleared his throat, forcing a tight almost painful smile at you and only you. He didn’t dare to look at your boyfriend. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying this is Richard. My boyfriend.” Because he cared oh so much about you, he gave this Richard guy a polite nod and one of his awkward tight lipped smiles as he introduced himself, though sticking to his no hand-shaking personal rule he always abided by even when Richard tried to shake his hand. “Not one to shake hands, huh?” Richard’s annoyingly smooth and gravelly voice echoed back to him, wearing an almost amused smirk. 

Again, Spencer tightly pressed his lips together as he nodded, tapping his fingers against the tops of his thighs absentmindedly. “Yes, I uh..actually the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering…It's actually safer to kiss.” He finished his sentence with a proud toothy grin and small breath of air, nodding as he looked between you and Richard.

He felt his palms get clammy as his smile slowly fell, starting to realize the odd phrasing of his words. He fumbled for a save, but the weight of the silence ripped the words from his throat first. A long silence. An awkward one at that. “I uh- I meant–” but then thanks to Derek–who put an arm around his shoulder and slid him away swiftly, he was saved from that suffocating weird tension. “Alright, pretty boy. ‘Nough of that, let’s get you away from whatever that was.”

Spencer could feel your lingering and searing gaze as he and Derek walked further away, his shoulders sagging in shame as he allowed Derek to sit him back down.

~

Some time had passed since then, everyone was now gathered together in a booth in the corner of the bar. He tried his best to keep his gaze off you as he half-heartedly listened to the other’s chattering and laughter. But how could he, when you were draped over Richard’s arm like some trophy on display. He knew you hated that. Being paraded around, being looked at like you were someone’s possession. He knew you–he used to know you, at least. You two had once been glued at the hip.

“Soooo..,” Penelope with her perky and bubbly tone paired with her enthusiastic smile cut into his thoughts as she referred to you and Richard. “How did you two meet? How long have you two been together? Oh! And–what’s his Hogwarts house?!”

JJ chuckled as she placed a hand on the former’s shoulder, smiling at her amusedly while she stopped her inevitable bombardment of questions. “Alright, Garcia– we don’t want to overwhelm her.” 

He saw how you nervously smiled and laughed, looking around the booth with a slight sheepish expression. “We met at the library. I was..” And he didn’t hear the rest of your story about you and stupid Richard. Are you serious? You two met at a library? That guy looks like he lives at the gym and checks himself out in the mirror. That and he didn’t want to hear about your guy’s “meet cute” as Garcia put it. 

His attention suddenly was drawn back to the conversation when he heard Richard speak, his gaze lifting as he tilted his head in confusion and his brows furrowed in disbelief. “I mean..isn’t she just so gorgeous? I always tell her she could be making way more money modeling instead of running around catching bad guys. I mean, with that face and body?”

You shifted uncomfortably as your gaze averted to the side, the booth table’s sudden silence reflecting your now rigidness and set jaw. Oh, he had it now. Spencer suddenly cut in, sharply and with a newfound boldness. 

“Do you even know her middle name?” Spencer scoffed, incredulous. “How she always sneezes at least three times? Or her first cat’s name? Her calendar or favorite rom-com? No– you don’t know her. You see her.” 

Again, there was a long and heavy silence with Spencer’s ragged breathing being the only thing to break it. Everyone shared knowing glances, no one daring to say a word. The tension was easily interrupted when you abruptly got from your seat and walked away, rushing to the restroom, even pushing past some people. 

The moment you rushed into the restroom, you beelined for the sink, leaning on it as you let your head hang for a moment before you frustratedly turned the faucet on and splashed your face with water. Your head spun no matter how hard you tried to pull yourself together. What were you doing? What was Spencer doing? And why was everything so confusing right now? You had, for the past near year, tried to push down your achingly strong feelings for boy genius back there. For so long, you felt like there could be something between you two only until you eventually came to the realization that he didn’t feel the same. He never made a move, never said anything, did anything. So why did it feel like his eyes hadn’t left you all night? Like that gaze– the one that always pulled you in– was finally doing so on purpose? 

You didn’t care about the lingering and judgemental stares you got in the restroom from the other passing women as you took your time to gather yourself. You couldn’t calm your heart, couldn’t stop it from pounding like it wanted out from your chest. Couldn’t soften the etched furrow in your brows, nor least of all stop questioning everything. You wanted to believe that the “accidental” brush of your hands meant something, or how he knew your exact Mcdonald’s order by heart despite how he always bugged you about its toxins and preservatives. Or how he knew how you took your coffee, how you cry because you can’t adopt every animal in the animal shelters. 

And you definitely couldn’t forget how he does that one nose scrunch, how he drowns his coffee in sugar, how you loved how much he cared for and loved his mother, his mismatched funky socks, and– god, just stop. You needed to reign yourself in and go back out there. 

It had already been almost 10 minutes when you walked back out to the booth, though you noticed a now empty space, your head tilting in confusion. Richard. “Where’d..” You stared, but Emily beat you to it, a slight edge to her voice though she held a sympathetic gaze whilst looking at you. “He left 5 minutes ago. Said he needed to “urgently get to his friend’s house.” For what? He didn’t say.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence passed as you sank back down into your seat, avoiding gazes as you brought your drink back to your lips. You especially avoided Spencer’s gaze– burning into the side of your face. You couldn’t tell whether or not your heart was racing from nerves or the fact that it was him staring at you. Though, the slow, smooth, sensational shiver that ran down your spine answered for you.

Haley, from Hotch’s side, spoke up– looking at you kindly with a warm gaze as her head tilted. “Don’t think about him. Just have fun with us,” She said with that sweet yet careful tone. She was always so kind. If only she knew you weren’t thinking about Richard, instead thinking about the man across from you who had an eidetic memory and 187 IQ. One of the many things you admired about him. I mean, come on. He’s kind, unintentionally charming, intelligent, and so incredibly handsome.

Your gaze drifted to Haley then Hotch before nodding with a faint smile, bringing your glass down from your lips. “Thank you, Haley. I’m okay.” You made a mistake of letting your eyes meet Spencer’s, who was already eyeing you like a goddamn hawk. And unlike usual him who would look away awkwardly, he held it. Almost unblinking. Like he was challenging you, pushing you, daring you.  

Some time later, the group had split into smaller clusters– of course Haley and Hotch dancing together while staring at one another like no one else was in the room, Penelope and JJ sipping on their drinks while gossiping about who knows what, and..Spencer and Derek in the corner. 

You sighed as you turned your head back to Emily, confusion and almost frustration clearly etched on your face with the way it tightened. “Okay, it’s not just me who’s noticed Spencer’s been staring all night..right? Or am I crazy?”

The raven-haired woman smiled almost smugly as she laughed gently, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re not crazy. I’ve noticed it, too. And..so has everyone else I’m pretty sure.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked around wildly and quickly before looking back to your best friend of years, tilting your head. “I– what? No..okay. But..why? Why has he–” She immediately interrupted you with a sigh, gently rolling her eyes before she looked at you like the answer was written on her forehead. 

“Because he’s terribly in love with you and you brought your asshole boyfriend to drink with us tonight. Which, no offense, I’m glad he left. What he said about you was uncalled for.” 

It was almost, almost comedic how you stared at her like she just said the world is flat. Mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed so tightly you would definitely get a wrinkle there, and utterly silenced. After a moment, you huffed an incredulous laugh, a dry smile adorned on your lips. “What?”

“And,” she pointed a finger at you, raising her brows with that one Emily expression she always had. “..It’s not helping how you’ve so obviously been avoiding him all night.” She followed her statement with a sip of her drink to hide her smirk, subtly nodding her head in the direction of Spencer and Derek.

An incredulous but unconvincing scoff left your lips as you looked at her with a pointed finger and shake of your head. “Uhm..no. I have not. I literally talked to him when I first got here. So.” Reflecting her from just a moment ago, you emphasized your own statement with a sip of your own drink and shit-eating expression.

And as soon as she spoke, that expression was wiped  off your face in an instant. “Go talk to him then if you’re not avoiding him,” She said, following it with a shrug as she set her now empty glass down. She knew just which buttons to push and how to push them.

“Fine. I will.” You narrowed your gaze at her, downing the rest of your drink before setting the glass down as well. You told yourself you were an adult, not some immature child. So you can do this. And with that, you turned on your heel before you could change your mind, heading in the direction of the man you definitely were avoiding all night. 

Spencer’s eyes met yours as you made way to him, to which Derek patted his shoulder with a nod and small “Good luck, man” before walking away, probably going to pick up some girl on the dance floor or at the bar. Leaving him alone. With you.

Once you approached, you cleared your throat, looking up at him with a faux confident demeanor. You weren’t. Why were you even scared to talk to him in the first place? You two used to be, as stupid as it sounded, two peas in a pod! So what gives?

“So..about earlier..” You started, though he cut you off. Which caught you off guard, something he seemed to be doing a lot tonight. “I heard you and Emily.” Another win for Spencer for catching you off guard. Since when was he so confrontational?

You looked at him shocked for a long moment, your brows furrowed as your lips parted– your gaze drifting to where Emily once was, hoping for some silent help. She wasn’t there anymore. Fuck. You cleared your throat, looking back up at him with a shrug and fake oblivious tilt of your head. “Heard what exactly?”

He looked at you for a long silent moment, his brows furrowing as his mouth opened and closed–grasping for words, though left speechless. Hurt, confusion, and even anger swirled in those deep brown eyes of his, evaporating any of the softness they usually held with you. Since when did you two play cat and mouse like this? That seemed to be a question that silently lingered in the air, like you two were telepathically speaking. 

“I’m going to the restroom,” He said before abruptly turning away and leaving you there alone. His voice before he departed was tight, sharp, almost devoid. And it left you with your heart clenching and a sudden nauseating feeling that wasn’t from the alcohol you had been consuming priorly. Your head turned to watch as he went, swallowing the knot that had formed in your throat. You started to drown in your thoughts, what was going on with you two? When did it become so cold between you? When did you let it? You let yourself start to reminisce about how you two would stay late nights at the office together, how he’d smile when he realized you were actually listening to his rambling instead of dismissing him, and those few times he’d grasp your hand tightly in times that you needed comfort.

You jolted when you felt a hand on your shoulder, having been completely zoned out and unresponsive, only to see it was Penelope who had pulled you out from that pool of never-ending thoughts. 

“Come on! We’re doing another round of shots!” Penelope said this while already pulling you behind her. She is small but strong, you had to give it to her. And so, you slid back into the booth beside the perky and tooth-achingly sweet blonde, ready to drown your disorder and misery.

It had been another hour– maybe two? You didn’t know exactly how long it had been, but all you did know was you couldn’t handle the muggy thick air in that bar anymore. It was both from the body count in the space and the inexplicable pull between you and Spencer. You also couldn’t stand the spinning of your head or the twisting of your stomach. Which is why you had slipped outside the bar, thankful for the refreshing air that immediately hit your face when you stepped out. 

Your mind drifted back to earlier– everyone buzzing with laughter and liquor. You’d been quiet, sipping your cocktail and observing, when Spencer had leaned in, voice low beside you. “I, um… I just wanted to say you look really beautiful tonight. And I noticed you’re wearing different earrings. They, uh..they suit you.”

His words had struck something tender. Your stomach did that flip thing – the kind you thought only existed in novels or corny movies. How did Spencer always notice the small things about you, when your own boyfriend couldn’t even recall your middle name? Maybe Spencer’s earlier words were right. 

Your eyes softened without your permission, a small smile inevitably pulling at your lips. “Yeah. I did. I didn’t think anyone would notice. Thank you, Spence.” You felt silly, almost– that such a small thing could hit so deep. But there it was. The reminder of why you used to be so close. Along with the sting of wondering how you’d let it all fall apart. 

He nodded, his shy smile mirroring yours. Then he gestured to your ear. “You’ve been fiddling with them all night. That’s actually why I noticed. You do that when you’re focused..or nervous. But mostly when you’re anxious. Or in your head.”

Your heart melted – wax under a match. Speechless, you blinked. You got lost in your head thinking he noticed that? You hadn’t even noticed you’d been playing with them. But he had. He called your name again, voice soft but more alert this time. Concerned. You blinked back to the present – once, twice – and then on the third call, your head turned. It wasn’t the memory anymore. Spencer now stood beside you outside the bar, a careful expression on his face.

That’s when you realized he had followed you out. Your gaze met his, and you had to suck in a deep breath before clearing your throat and looking away. “So..you needed air too, huh?” The low and slightly weakened state of your voice was foreign to your own ears. As you both leaned back against the wall, his gaze glued to you while yours stayed fixed on your shoes.

“Yeah. It was getting to be too much for me. You know how I get.” His voice held that softness again– a breathless edge to it, like the words had to push through everything he wasn’t saying. 

As you lifted your gaze to look up at him again, you could see a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips, his eyes deep and hesitant. Confliction and gentleness graced your own expression as you caught your breath from it being taken away by the sight of him. “I,..yeah. I do.” Your tongue darted out to moisten your suddenly dry lips, which was followed by a thick gulp.

You caught the flicker of his eyes dropping to your lips just after you licked them, his brows furrowed before he cleared his throat, meeting your eyes with his own once more. “What are we doing?”

It was your turn to have your brows furrow together, only for you it was confusion. You leaned off the wall, fully facing him– which was both a good and bad idea. Good because it made it easier to fully engage in the conversation and bad because now you could see every detail clearer. You could see how the dimmed lights of the bar shadowed his angled jawline, how his hair was messily run through yet so perfectly him. 

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out even quieter than before, a contrast to his strong and abrupt tone. His gaze seemed to pierce you while you struggled to keep your own on him. What was it that clenched at your chest so tightly and heavily? Guilt? Longing? You didn’t know. And you didn’t know how to rid it.

His words came in sharp and cutting, leaning off the wall like you and stepping closer once. “You know exactly what I mean. This. Us. You’re acting and have been acting like a stranger for who knows how long. And another thing, why are you with him? With that..asshole. You’re being distant, you’re avoiding me, and I’m sick of it because I know you feel it, too. This..thing between us. So what’s going on?” Your heart stalled at his words – you should’ve been dead, is what you thought. That couldn’t be real. What did he just say?

You wish you could say you had a quick response, a comeback, that your words bit him back. In reality, you just stared at him with no words at all, face scrunched in disbelief and sorrow. You shook your head as you looked away again, stepping to the side in means of getting past him. “I don’t know what you mean or what you’re talking about. This conversation is over.”

Before you could even get past him, you felt his hands firmly grab your shoulders and turn you to face him. His face was twisted in frustration, anger, and something else. His following words only tightened the knot in your throat and weight on your chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend.” His grip tightened, eyes searching yours. “Stop running. What happened to us being able to talk?”

It was now your gaze that dropped down to his lips, taking in the pink fullness of them. You forced yourself to look back into his eyes, your throat bobbing as you thickly gulped before speaking, like the words had to claw their way out. “We stopped being able to do that a while ago, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know that. But why?” He breathed, his eyes tracing your features as his hands slowly–gently– came up to cradle the sides of your face. “Why are you putting up a wall? I thought we..”

Your jaw instantly clenched, brows pulling tight as you wrapped your hands around his wrists– bringing them down from your face. Your voice came out tight, steeped in incredulousness and long-suppressed hurt. “Why am I putting up a wall? Why did I— you know what, maybe it’s because I got tired. I got tired of hoping, of thinking, of  believing that you felt something for me, only for you to act like it was nothing. For you to not feel how I do. So I’m sorry if I’m protecting my own feelings and distancing myself.”

He was stunned, staring at you with that deep, unreadable conflict behind his eyes. His shock wasn’t disbelief, it was heartbreak. That you didn’t know. That you couldn’t see it. “Are you serious?” His question hit like a bark, sharp and staggering. His face twisted to mirror your own— brows tight, eyes stormy.  “You know..” He breathed out a dry, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “For someone who is so smart, you’re being pretty stupid right now.” 

A bitter laugh of disbelief left your lips as you shook your head, eyes now narrowed and sharp with pique and hurt. “Excuse me? I’m what?” 

His hand came back up to your jawline, tilting your head up to make sure your eyes stayed locked on his as he leaned in close, voice low and certain. “You heard me. You’re being stupid right now.” You noted how his gaze drifted down to your lips again, how his adams apple bobbed with a gulp. “You’re stupid if you can’t see how much I need you. How I can never keep my eyes off you. How I always want to be with you.” He met your gaze again with his own, only this time it held something different.

Your own gaze drifted to his lips again as a heavy breath left yours. You were in a limbo of your own thoughts swirling about what it’d feel like to have his mouth on yours and listening to him do what you’ve always wanted him to. Pour his heart out to you.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed how I’ve always wanted to be your person. The one you confide in. Like we always used to.” His voice now teetered on desperation, delicate and nearly a whisper. He pulled you closer, both your faces inching closer. Your breath mingled with his, your gaze flitting back up to meet his pleading one.

“No. No,..you can’t just.” Your voice was hesitant and almost broken. You shook your head as you licked your lips again. “If that’s true..why have you never said anything? Why did you..”

He nodded as his hand moved from your jawline to cup the side of your face, thumb brushing against your skin soothingly and slowly. His voice was a soft whisper, matching his gaze. “I know..I know. Trust me, I do.” He swallowed thickly, unable to stop himself from leaning closer, like your lips had a magnetic pull. The turmoil and desperation in his eyes were impossible to miss. “I’ve thought about it time and time again. But I just..I was scared. And unsure. And I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Your gaze stayed glued to his lips as you let out a shaky breath, heart pounding, hands trembling. Your lips parted as you listened to his whispered words, like it was a secret between you both. When you come to think about it, isn’t it?

You felt his lips brush against your own with his breath on you sending a sensual shiver down your spine. “God, I couldn’t imagine losing you.” And before you could even register it– his lips were on yours.

The kiss started soft– hesitant, sweet, and tender. But the moment he felt your hands grasp his face and kiss him back, something inside him flipped. He moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your hair, his fingers tangling in it as he tilted your head and his own, molding his lips with yours.

He couldn’t get enough, how could he? He finally had you in his arms, your lips on his. Not Richard’s. His. All of the times he imagined what this moment would be like still didn’t live up to how it truly felt. The way both your lips slotted together in time felt like you were fated for one another. Like your lips were molded, crafted, and detailed just for him. 

His free hand slightly trembled as it reached for your waist, gripping it tightly like his touch on you would ground him. He could feel his skin tingle, stomach warm, and head spin as he continued to pour every ounce of everything he’s ever felt for you into this very kiss. His mouth enveloped yours needily and deeply, not caring to pull back for breath.

One of your hands slid into his own hair, and he swore he almost lost it right then and there. He could feel every ounce of emotion you poured into him, into this kiss, like it was bursting from every fiber of your body. He leaned you back against the cold concrete wall behind you, thankful for the shadowed space and quiet atmosphere. 

He carved this moment into his memory like a lifeline– something he could revisit over and over when everything else fell apart. He was so relieved to have his lips on yours that he couldn’t help but smile against them.

But then he felt you start to pull away, to which he tried to chase your lips but you placed a hand on his chest to deter him. “Spencer..” God, the breathless way you said his name was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

“Yeah?” His gaze lifted from your lips to your eyes as he gulped,  catching his much needed breath. He had that puppy-eyed gaze he always did. Looking down at you through his lashes with wide soft but worshiping eyes. 

“Spencer, we…we can’t.” His heart instantly sank to the pits of his stomach, his body going stiff as he stared at you with confusion and tragedy. “You can’t just..” You continued, taking a deep breath. “You can’t just drop all of this on me now– not when I’ve finally started trying to move on. When your feelings get hurt because I’m with someone else. Or..or.” You sighed, meeting his gaze– and god did he want to stare into those soft eyes forever.

“..just. It’s not fair. And I’ve wanted this for so long but..this isn’t how I saw it happening. Not now. Not when it’s already too late.  Not when I’m with someone else. And..yes, he’s a dick but..that’s my situation to deal with. Not yours. Not anymore. I don’t think it actually ever was. And..You don’t get to suddenly decide when and if I’m yours.”

Oh.

That’s all he could think. That and the fact that..you were right. He didn’t get to do this. Not now. It was unfair to you. And it was even unfair to him. 

He was an idiot. Not only did he think it but he felt it. “I,..uhm.” He cleared his throat, hands reluctantly slipping from you as he stepped back. “I’m sorry.” That’s all he could muster up at the moment. But really, what else could he possibly say? He couldn’t beg, he couldn’t explain more, and he certainly couldn’t take it back.

The way you looked up at him – sorrow written across your face, tragedy carved into your brows, that small frown trembling on your lips– it would haunt him forever. “I just wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

And like that, before he could even get another word in, you had already turned on your heel–retreating back to inside the bar to join the others. The taste of your kiss would linger – but so would the sting of your goodbye.

[hey-itsdollie]

Hi, I love your blog!

Could I please request head-canons for Kaiser, Rin, Sae, Nagi, Bachria, (and whoever else if you feel like, if it’s not too much) of how they’d feel about having a goth gf? 💀 🖤 ⚽️

I ♡ Goth Girls

yesss I've never seen something like this I hope I do it well!

‧₊˚ ┊ Block Lock boys with a goth gf!

୭˚. ᵎᵎ featuring » kaiser. rin. sae. nagi. bachira.

⋮ ⌗ ┆cw ⪼ fluff, female reader, semi-crack fic, use of pet names, goth reader!

── .✦ Michael Kaiser

Kaiser would be estatic about having a goth girlfriend. Considering he's more eccentric and enjoys eccentric things. He'd enjoy showing you off, always having you send fit checks to him, and even letting you decorate his things like his car, room, and even phone aesthetic.

He adores your aesthetic, giving anyone death glares who choose to look at you the wrong way.

Even a small glance Kaiser is already memorizing the person's face, body structure, and clothes. You don't normally care much but whatever you're laid back about he is more high strung for.

"Michael enough, I know that look."

You would stare at him unamused as he sends death glares at a small child who was just mindlessly staring up at you. Sighing relieved once the kid walked away with their parents.

Back to decorating his room, it was simple Kaiser wasn't one to decorate much considering he often travelled due to matches. So whenever you were over you'd leave something in his room. He had many plushies ranging from gloomy bears, gothic looking bunnies, and even light pastel cats.

Polaroids of the two of you hung from his walls, considering you preferred to take material photos than just keep them tucked away in your phone.

During his birthday you never knew what to get him, you also knew very well he didn't like recieving gifts so you decided to make him things instead of buy him knick-knacks.

Adding to his new decor, crocheted blankets and small plushies were now on his bed.

Kaiser became some what of a softy after getting with you. Sure he threw his tantrums from time to time and had an attitude. But you noticed a change in him, you calmed him down even though he wouldn't verbally admit it.

"Don't move." You ordered one hand gripping his chin as the other applied his eyeliner almost perfectly onto his skin. This had become part of your routine whenever you stayed over at his place, which was often.

"Liebling, how does it look?"

"It'd be better if you didn't move so much."

"I can't help it, I love having my eyes on you~"

Kaiser gave you the attention you never thought you'd want. And sure enough, he grew on you quite quickly.

── .✦ Rin Itoshi

Rin didn't think much about having a goth girlfriend, to be fair he never thought much about relationships in general. He's lowkey the type of guy who doesn't care about how people look or dress. Will he give weird stares? Hell yeah. But it's not like he's going to fully hate someone for it.

When he got into a relationship with you everything was chill. Sure you didn't watch much football, you only knew of the blue lock program due to theory videos on the internet.

So during one of his breaks, you ran into him at an arcade the guys had dragged him to. He was hella nervous. You wore large platform boots, a ton of makeup, and had piercings. Rin wasn't really expecting someone like you to come up to him, the aesthetics clashed- plus he had no idea who you were.

"You're part of blue lock right?"

Rin thought it was a hassle but decided to answer your questions. He just wasn't expecting for you to ask him about brain washing and if there were tunnels under blue lock.

To put it simply he thought you were crazy.

Few months into the relationship and he still thinks you're crazy. Doesn't mean he doesn't love you.

"Please Rin let me do your eyeliner! Just this once!"

You often begged him to try out some things you enjoyed doing. He always said no after you asked to give him piercings. That one hurt you bad when he said no.

"Fine, if it'll make you stop whining."

You squealed and began doing some rubbed out eyeliner on his waterline, grinning from ear to ear as your smiley piercing was on display.

"He loved seeing your smile, the tension in his body melting away as he patiently let you do his make up.

You and Rin were the definition of loser bf and goth gf; while you collected small random figures of skeletons wearing animal costumes he was collecting action figures and football cards.

Just like with Kaiser Rin was heavily over protective with you. Whenever Otoya or Shidou commented on him having a "goth baddie" for a girlfriend he was always 0.2 seconds away from knocking their lights out.

He would do it even if they didn't say anything, knowing you always cheered him on no matter what.

── .✦ Sae Itoshi

Sae had known you for a while, way before you chose your aesthetic and way before he left for spain. Childhood friends you would say whenever someone asked how you knew the red headed football player.

To say he was shocked that you were goth would be an understatement but it didn't necessarily bother him. He found it quite unique, he loved it.

He enjoyed going on shopping sprees with you, not minding that he had to quite close to thrity minutes to an hour for you to get ready. You were laid back and he was aswell, you never rushed to be anywhere.

"You're beautiful Blossom."

Sae would say smoothly watching you get ready using your light up mirror that had bats carved into the wood. You would be painting on your eyebrows, one halfway done as you turned and blew him a kiss.

The press was quite shocked to hear Sae had a unique girlfriend, but he loved showing you off. Your sense of fashion always blew the press away.

Even on dates you often took him to thrift stores, he was used to the idea that he'd need to spend a fortune on his significant other, but instead you made your own clothes and jewerly, and preferred to thrift.

The most he normally spent was on concert tickets. Which he didn't mind considering he got to watch you get all dolled up.

Sae got used to your antics quite quickly. For example, he normally expected to be sent a playlist at 3am from you. The message saying "This playlists reminds me of us" or just a playlist full of song recommendations.

He loved how passionate you were about things even small things that most wouldn't glance at. It made him want to become passionate over football again, it was just the effect you had on him.

And even though you didn't force it on him you tried subtly to bring him and his young brother together again. You spoke to Rin often as he went to you for most things whether it was him asking about Sae or just being agitated about anything and everything.

Of course Sae was aware of this, even hesitantly asking to see any pictures Rin would send you or ask about his brother.

It started with Sae sending check up messages to Rin—he would either get left on delivered or left on seen—but now he has short conversations with Rin.

It's slow but it's something. And he had you to thank for that.

── .✦ Seishiro Nagi

Nagi would not care about how his significant other would look or dress. He'd be quite indifferent about it, considering he probably looks for whoever wouldn't be a hassle.

Reo on the other hand was probably shocked to see his white-haired friend with you. Questioning how exactly Nagi got a girl like you considering how lazy and laid back he was. Was it the height? The looks? Dare he say personality??

You had met Nagi at a costume store, looking for new decorations for your apartment as Nagi was dragged to go shopping with Reo—who was in a completely different store—he just wanted to come in for air conditioning...

He ended up walking out with a scheduled date.

You found Nagi immensely attractive, though others might say otherwise. He seemed like he didn't care about his looks. His hair was messy as if he just got out of bed, his clothes kind of thrown on yet still looked relatively presentable. Not to mention his height and lazy sleepy eyes.

He was just your type.

On the other hand, Nagi wasn't expecting some goth chick who barely met his height with her platform shoes on to walk up to him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think you worked at the shop.

In his eyes he thought you looked like a video game character. Specifically, from a horror game.

Being the blunt man he was he voiced his thoughts. To anyone's surprise you took it as a compliment and asked him out.

The two of you often lazed around together and played video games. Mid way through walks you would remember tiktok trends and decide to do them.

"Nagi just stand there." You would direct before walking up to him and stepping on his dirty converse before kissing him with your hands cupping his face.

Nagi also seemed to enjoy staying at your place more than his own saying "It's cozier" whilst having his head buried into your cleavage. With your black out shades and dark lighting in your bedroom, it was the perfect nap atmosphere.

── .✦ Meguru Bachira

To say Bachira loved having you as his girlfriend would be an understatement.

Showing up to your date with a white shirt saying "I ♡ My Goth Gf" was not that shockingly for you. He seemed to brag to everybody about you, proving to others that he was far scarier than you when they made nasty comments.

Effectively threatening to unleash his monster on them.

You two were like Beast boy and Raven, even dressing up like them for Halloween per Bachira's begging.

Your profiles on anything always matched with icons of Beast boy and Raven. He loved it. To him you were as pretty- if not more beautiful than Raven.

He was sure to take millions of pictures of you in your costume. Saving them and making one his phone's wallpaper.

Bachira was adorable to you, both of you being outcasts in certain situations made your bond tighter. He was the more energetic one in the relationship but it never clashed with any activities or dates.

He often didn't dress up either wearing pajamas or shorts with random graphic tees while you always went out with your outfits and if you decided to wear pajamas your make up made up for your laziness.

Often times your boyfriend would plead with you to do his make up like you would your own. And in the end, he would always act like he was at some hard-core concert.

His goofiness never failed to make you smile. Not to mention his mother loved you. She loved your creative aesthetic, using you as a model for some paintings.

Before going to see you Bachira always bragged about you to his mom saying "Oh isn't Birdie perfect mom!" in response the older woman would just laugh and agree. Happy her beloved son found someone who loves him as much as he loves them.

Bachira was open with his feelings almost immediately, he ran up to you after one of his matches and asked you out. Out of luck you agreed, which led to now.

Your boyfriend laying in your bed practically buried under all your plushies and blankets, refusing each time to put the plushies on the ground saying "Those are our kids! I can't kick them off the bed!"

Soft snores left him as his chest raised up and down comfortably. You smiled taking a picture before crawling into bed with him.

Sorry if anyone is a bit ooc, I enjoyed writing this :P

©hey-itsdollie please don't copy, change, or steal my work. Thank you!

[zweigish]

ummum so..again, thank you guys so so so so so much for 100! here’s this bot drop, I hope you guys enjoy it! :) most of it ( basically all of it) is Mike Faist characters..😓

BOT DROP

all around me ⤷ ghost!art donaldson

moving into your new apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a small hint of anxiousness, a random run of chills hitting you now and then. Something thickening the air around you, could it be your house is haunted?

eyes without a face ⤷ vampire!art donaldson

new student at your school? he was odd and closed off. Often bothered by the sunlight outside, sitting wherever the sun wasn’t hitting, that happened to be next to you one day. He seemed to be very tense, what was happening? He was acting weird towards you and it was time for you to confront him if he did have a problem with you.

in my room ⤷ vampire!art Donaldson

your room was your safe spot, or was it? Was it still your safe spot when you had woken up many many times as if someone was watching you? you never understood why when your window was locked shut..how could someone get in? you still didn’t understand when you saw his figure in the corner of the room.

opposites ⤷ riff lorton

your job as a nurse is too treat patients not flirt with them but you just cant help it when you meet riff, when does he not flirt? but also..how can you not do it back?

summertime ⤷ riff lorton

ah.. the summer time, the time where your boyfriend, riff and his gang all take over your home for you conditioning and all your food, it’s time for some boundaries.

Linger. ⤷ riff lorton

Commitment? wasn’t his thing but it sure was yours, which is why you relentlessly asked him out. Time after time, he agreed which is how you ended up in heart break, he warned you but he had you wrapped around his finger.

don’t let me down ⤷ Patrick zweig

as the song goes, ‘nobody ever loved me like she does’ Patrick related to that, nobody had ever loved him like you did and he cherished you for that. At a trip with visiting your parents..he was gonna get down on one knee and depend on you to not let him down.

this charming man ⤷ patrick zweig

your bestfriend, Patrick currently getting ready for a date. Running to you for help on outfit choices, as you help him with each one. You can’t help but slightly think about how lucky this girl is, your friend was funny, not very smart and somewhat handsome and you liked that..

Layla & something ⤷ patrick zweig + art donaldson

two boys from the same band fighting over a girl like you, what was so important that they made two songs about you trying to steal your attention? ‘Layla, you got me down on my knees’ lyrics by Patrick zweig and ‘something in the way she woos me’ lyrics by Art Donaldson, who will you choose?

king for a day ⤷ wolf!Patrick zweig + vampire!art donaldson

the wolf and the vampire, both wanting to be kings in your world. Fighting for your love and attention, both asking you to do separate things. How difficult is this?

strange you never knew ⤷ dodge mason

being dodges bestfriend was good, until you ended up developing a crush on him. Natalie? can’t keep her mouth shut, exposing your current feelings. You avoided him before he visited you, he really misses you.

fast as you can ⤷ Connor Murphy

you and Connor Murphy were so different but the same, you both had problems that had became to much. You both decided to run away together.

wild horses ⤷ cowgirl!tashi duncan

you were from the city and yet you fell inlove with someone from the country. It was time to make sure you blend in, leading her to teach you how to ride horses. What a fun new thing to do.

but I’m a cheerleader! - tashi duncan. (f4f)

you were popular and so was tashi, you both were known as the golden duo. Both cheerleaders and overall your typical popular girls though, you had a secret. Hanging out in her room, one thing lead to the another.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: may 2025

jesus christ you guys. May is already over.

I feel like I've lost most of the month to various agonies (power outage, worst period I've had in years, horrific anxiety attacks) but you know what I did manage to do? read the shit out of some books.

what have I been reading?

Zombies vs. Unicorns (ed. Holly Black and Justine Larbalestier, 2010) - I wrote about this one pretty extensively over on patreon, complete with a ranked list of every short story in the anthology. I read this book as a teen and discovered that I remembered way more about these short stories (authored by a dozen names from all across the late aughts YA field) than I remembered, and was really pleasantly surprised by how well it held up 15 years later! as for whether I was Team Zombie or Team Unicorn... well, check out the 'tron ;)

My Best Friend's Honeymoon (Meryl Wilsner, 2025) - I promise this is the last time I'm going to do this, but I also wrote a review of this on patreon. tl;dr: so unbelievably stale that it made me yearn for the weird toxic MILF-ery of Wilsner's other novel, Mistakes Were Made. but, on the plus side, this is one of the only works of fiction I've ever encountered where anyone but gay men are shown to enjoy eating ass 🍑

Martyr! (Kaveh Akbar, 2024) - with each passing day I understand more and and more what Harry Styles meant when he said "it's like a real movie that you'd see in the cinema." Martyr! is like a real novel that you'd seen in a bookstore, or in a library, or discussed in a class where some hot insufferable idiot is going to have opinions so good and so irritating that you're incapable of NOT fucking them. I'm honestly like a little horny about this book, and if you know anything about me and my love of death as a storytelling device you won't be surprised: the main character, Cyrus Shams, is passively suicidal at best, struggling to think of the most meaningful way a person can lose their one and only life. by chance he finds his way to a terminally ill artist living out her final days in museum exhibit, performing her own death, and the to strike up a connection that blows his world wide open. reader, the REVEAL of this book made me shriek.

Don't Fear the Reaper (Stephen Graham Jones, 2023) - the first book in Jones' Indian Lake trilogy, My Heart is a Chainsaw, left me impressed but overwhelmed; the whole time I was reading the book I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something, failing to keep up with either the abundance of references to slasher movies or the convoluted plot of smalltown murder unfolding in the novel. this time around I was on steadier ground, and while I still can't say I 100% kept up with the action at all times, that may well be because I was reading too damn fast - this book's a certifiable chonker, but I breezed right through it, unable to step away from the snaking twists and reveals. I'd say that I hope this town stops serving as a magnet for serial killers and vengeful ghosts soon, but unfortunately I know perfectly well that that's just what Idaho is like.

My Garden (Book): (Jamaica Kincaid, illus. Jill Fox, 1999) - I happen to be an extremely, extremely amateur gardener, by which I mean I very much like to stand in the tiny patch of earth in front of my house and marvel at how many things are growing there now, planted without rhyme or reason, in a soil that's surprisingly rich considering that just a few years ago it was all bone-dry dirt. but whether you take any joy in dirt and plants or not, I think this is a really lovely read. it's about gardening but it's also about making a home your own, and it's about the many colonialist implications of how plants are managed and named, and mainly it's about Kincaid being an extremely funny and wry observer of a great many things. I'd love to offer her a seat on my porch and let her talk for hours about how her garden's doing these days.

Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert (Bob the Drag Queen, 2025) - right in the first five seconds of this book you have to accept a lot. famous historical figures have started returning from the dead, no explanation, and one of them is Harriet Tubman, accompanied by half a dozen other formerly enslaved folks and abolitionists. and what is Harriet up to in the 21st century? well, she's started a band, and she's reached out for help from our protagonist Darnell, a producer who's distanced himself from the industry. got that? good. don't worry about the how or why too much; this isn't that kind of book. this is a book for Miss the Drag Queen to examine the legacy of historical Black heroes like Harriet Tubman and what their sacrifices mean for Black Americans today. Harriet and her supporting cast offer up various views on enslaved life, abolition, spirituality, and more, to the point that it will sometimes feel like the author just wants you to know how much reading she did about Harriet Tubman. but it also seems abundantly clear that this is a deeply personal project, and I was surprised by how much the raw sincerity could get to me even when it felt a bit didactic. I think the best way to enjoy this book is absolutely to listen to it on audio, so that you can not only hear Bob read her own work but also catch the two original songs she recorded specifically for the book.

Daydream Hour: Doodles by Ryoko Kui (Ryoko Kui, 2024, trans. Taylor Engel, 2025) - this one possibly barely counts as having read a book, since it's primarily bonus doodles pertaining to Dungeon Meshi's creatures, characters, and lore, but man, it was still such a delight and a nice little treat to have. Kui has such an obvious adoration for her characters, and it's fun to see her play with them like dolls! the highlight for me has got to me my awful little meow meow Mithrun receiving a hot water bottle shaped like a walking mushroom and, seemingly, enjoying it as much as he's capable of enjoying anything.

Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment (Hi'ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart, 2022) - look, I'll be real: this is an Academic Text(tm), and the reading felt like hard work in places. but that work imparted SO many ideas that I never even would have considered before, and I love being able to feel learning happening. there are so many fascinating ideas here about the role of climate in shaping colonial ideas about race, and the regulation of temperature as an expression of colonial power even in something as seemingly innocuous as ice for beverages. you don't think about where ice comes from, but in a time where ice arrives via ship from a continent away, that's hardly a neutral or apolitical thing, is it?

this book actually tied in really well with a particular passage in Jamaica Kincaid's My Garden (Book): in which Kincaid, who grew up in Antigua, recalled this anecdote:

"I must have been about ten years old when I first came in contact with cold air; where I lived the air was only hot and then hotter... But once, the parents of a girl I knew got a refrigerator, and when they were not at home, she asked me to come in and put my hand in the freezer part. I became convinced then (and remain so even now) that cold air is unnatural ad man-made and associated with prosperity (for refrigerators were common in the prosperous North) and more real and special than the warm air that was so ordinary to me..."

and that's a passage that might have been interesting regardless, but something about reading multiple books at one time is that sometimes you stumble onto something in one book that's so SO much more meaningful because of something totally different that you happen to be reading at the same time, and Cooling the Tropics made me pause and give way more consideration to an Antiguan girl's first memory of artificial cold.

Triple Sec (TJ Alexander, 2024) - I'm about to damn this book with a lot of faint praise. it's definitely better than the other TJ Alexander romance I've read, Chef's Kiss. unlike many tradpubbed gay romance novels, it actually feels really queer. and it's definitely the best thruple romance novel I've read, since it lets both halves of the established couple bond with the newcomer separately rather than treating them as two people with one brain who feel exactly the same about everything. the actual plot is a little on the dull end and all three central characters feel a little half-baked, which is a frequent pitfall of adding a third character to a romance, but it's a quick, breezy read that I would say this is a really strong start for queer people who are looking for real deal QUEERNESS in their romance novels. and also it has, like, probably one of the hotter kinky sex scenes we're ever gonna get in a tradpub romance? ngl, Mel and Kade getting together did something for me. iykyk.

Dick Fight Island Vol. 1 (Reibun Ike, 2019, trans. Adrienne Beck 2021) - look. I don't know what to tell you. this is just a really good sports manga where the sport happens to be uuuuuuh an ancient duel between representatives of eight island clans who compete to see who can make their opponent cum first. whoever cums first loses. whoever can withstand the sensual onslaught without blowing their load the longest will win the right to name the next king of the island. it's about duty and camaraderie and intimacy and it does some really interesting things to subvert norms of masculinity. and also it's about a lot of lovingly drawn panels of throbbing dicks and oozing cum and absolutely gaping assholes. win-win! unironically, zero joke, I was delighted by every page.

[p-seduonym]

For the Switched at Birth series, I can't help but imagine ways Reader could be yandere for Melissa.

Like, imagine Melisa tells the Reader how they didn't get to keep anything of her mother? And maybe, she focuses on something super specific? Like a cheap, costume jewelry (choker/brooch/bracelet/ring/whatever) that was something the mom would put on Melissa every now and then. Taken by the mother's ex's jealous lover? Or a weird fan that broke in while Melissa was home alone (to make it a traumatic incident in her childhood)? And Reader not only finds it, but manages to get it. (Kinda implying she stole it back. Or blackmails the current owner.)

The Reader walks into a birthday party that Melissa invited her to. (The Wayne's were shamed into giving Melissa a birthday party by social media. Thousands questioning why she didn't get a gala for her's, despite all of Bruce's other children, and Stephanie, getting galas. Maybe because someone recorded Reader asking Melissa if she could go to the girl's birthday party? And Melissa revealing she's never had one since her mother died.) Everyone is looking down on Reader for being from a poor family. What could she have brought that would have any value? Melissa obviously feels bad about people mocking the Reader, but is too stuck in being meek to stand up for her. Though, Reader is cool and unbothered. Having eyes for only her.

And gift opening happens.

The Wayne family clearly gives things that are just for show. To pretend. Maybe a sports car from Bruce? That Melissa would obviously not like and probably couldn't drive. A new computer from Timothy. That Melissa doesn't know how to use. Cassandra and Stephanie getting a silk bath robe for her. Melissa knows she'd probably actually use it, but it wasn't something she'd ever ask for or need. Dick gets a dress that's two sizes too big, very curvy, and in a black that washes Melissa out. It's later revealed, through social media, that it was a dress an ex of his wore. Duke gave her some expensive necklace or something, expecting that her life of luxury meant she'd only want expensive things.

Damian got her nothing. She sweetly claps back with, "I'm happy you're here. That's enough for me."

(Which gets so many on social media, and any news outlets, practically foaming at the mouth. Cause Reader manipulated the public into loving the two of them.)

And it's Reader's turn, handing Melissa a small box in cheap wrapping.

When Melissa opens it she stares, speechless. She starts crying. Then she drags Reader into a hug, repeatedly saying thank you. When Tim or Stephanie grumble about what could be so moving that it causes this, Melissa pulls back and pulls out the costume jewelry.

"It was my mom's. She always used to let me wear it. I didn't get to keep anything of her's, when she died. I thought I would never see this again! Thank you. Thank you so much, Reader!"

Later, the two are overheard chatting about Melissa going to Reader's party after the gala. Which is how it's revealed that they were born on the same day. Not revealing that they were switched.

Melissa managed to find old recordings of her mother to give to Reader, so the other could know what her birth mom sounded like.

I really like this! I wasn't really intending on making Reader yandere, but Melissa and Reader's relationship isn't exactly normal so I get how you read it that way.

I didn't have any plans for their shared birthday, but I could do a little oneshot with this idea in mind (if you don't mind!)

But you're really spot on for the tone of everthing else! I really love that everyone's enjoying the series so far 🥰

[millenianthemums]

At long last, here’s Chapter Seven of Mabel’s Guide to the Power of Friendship!!! please enjoy

I had a long stint of writer’s block that I’m slowly recovering from, so this chapter took forever. and then i wanted to do something fun for the chapter art to celebrate finally getting the chapter out, and this took sooo long but was very fun to do. anyway thank you everyone for waiting and reading along, see you soon with the next chapter hopefully

PREVIOUS

INDEX

chapter text under cut

As much as Mabel hated even thinking the phrase��� Bill had been right. Sneaking back upstairs was pretty effortless. Still, as she laid in the dark, curled up in bed, anxiety tugged at her brain. Why was Dipper up? He was a total night owl, he was never up this early unless he’d just pulled an all-nighter. But he’d been fast asleep when she’d snuck out earlier…

She grumbled and rubbed her eyes, trying to hold off a headache. Something was off. Did he know about Bill? Or suspect something? Were he and Ford talking because one of those sci-fi gadgets in Ford’s study detected Bill somehow?

Or was Dipper hiding something too? Something that had nothing to do with Bill, or her? His own sneaky little summer project that he didn’t trust her with. Like that dumb thesis contest he was so excited and cagey about.

Mabel’s eyes stung a little. It was probably something like that. But hey, she was keeping secrets from him too. Big, stupid, scary, dangerous, messed-up secrets that would horrify him. So it was only fair, really.

It was fine. It wasn’t the end of the world, it was just something they couldn’t talk about. Siblings weren’t supposed to be able to talk to each other about everything. Siblings hide things. They grow apart. They build separate lives, bigger and bigger, until they’re so many layers deep that they’re nowhere near each other anymore. That’s fine; it’s just how life is. She scrubbed roughly at a tear.

One hand thrashed around through the pile of plushies on her bed, searching for one in particular. She knew when she’d grabbed it without even looking. The fur fabric was rubbed smooth in some patches and still fuzzy in others, patched with all different textures and materials. It was Agatha. A big, pink, pillow-shaped, ratty old cat that had been with Mabel since it was bigger than her.

Last year Agatha had stayed in California, after a bunch of warnings that she’d take up too much suitcase space. But this past year had been… a lot. High school exceeding its bad reputation, the schlepping back and forth between Dad’s house and Mom’s new condo, the family drama, the nightmares, the weird panicky moments that came out of nowhere… but somehow, despite it all, hugging Agatha always made her feel a little better. So she’d made room for her.

Like she had so many times, Mabel squeezed the cat as tight as she could. And like always, it felt like a soft warmth pulsed out from her cotton-filled core, into Mabel’s heart. A reassuring glow that wore away her sadness just a little, like a gentle, fluffy, reassuring hug of pure psychic energy. With a small, weary sigh, Mabel looked at Agatha’s face, and imagined that her button eyes softened a little, like she was telling her everything would be okay.

Mabel wiped her face clean, cuddled into the blankets, and sunk into sleep. Whatever happened could wait until the sun came up. Right now, it was time to rest.

—-

And then, very quickly, it wasn’t. Pale morning light was streaming through the attic windows, and her brother was shaking her awake, saying her name in an excited whisper.

Her brain felt like sludge. “Hhbwuh?” she managed to ask.

“Follow me.” He was grinning like a 1000-watt bulb. “I’ve got something to share.”

He led her by the hand into the dark living room. She squinted around, thoughts still muffled by sleep. She barely had time to start being curious before the lights clicked on.

A trifold poster was set up on the coffee table, standing proudly in the center of the room like the guest of honor. On it, blurry polaroids of gnomes, lake monsters, dinosaurs and more cluttered every inch of bare poster board. Red string linked every picture in a wild web of conspiracy, and at the center of the chaos, every string led to a single point. A photo of Dipper and Mabel in front of the Mystery Shack, silly grins beaming at the camera.

A title festooned the top of the board, Dipper’s handwriting rendered with colorful highlighters. “Thesis Project: Dipper and Mabel’s Guide to the Unexplained.”

“I know the design’s not great,” Dipper said with a sheepish grin. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

Mabel had to swallow the lump in her throat before she spoke. “This is your thesis project?”

“This is our thesis project.” Dipper put his hands on her shoulders. “I mean… I want it to be. I want to spend this summer studying the anomalies in Gravity Falls, and I want you to help me.”

She snorted. “I would’ve drawn you a cover page whether you asked me to or not—“

“Not just the cover page,” Dipper said. “I want you to be my co-author. I want us to do this project together as lab partners and submit it together. Mabel, every awesome thing we did last summer, everything we learned and accomplished, it only happened because we worked together. If we do this together, there’s no way we won’t win.” He trailed off, suddenly sheepish again. “I mean, if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, I know it’s a lot of wo—“

“DIPPERRRRR!!!!!!!!” Mabel launched forward and tackled him off his feet with the biggest hug she could manage.

“—OUGH— ack— Mabel I can’t breathe!” he laughed. When he managed to loosen the vice grip embrace, he saw her face and his eyes bulged with concern. “Whoa, are you okay??”

Mabel scrubbed the happy tears from her face. “Of course I’ll be your lab partner!!” she sobbed. “There’s nothing I’d rather do!”

Dipper’s eyes glittered too. He grinned and hugged her back.

Mabel looked up at the sound of clapping, and saw Ford and a very sleepy Stan sitting at the kitchen table. “Bravo, Dipper!” Ford said brightly. “See, I told you it would go over perfectly!”

Stan nudged his brother. “And what’d I tell you, huh?” he grunted. “This town’s in good hands.”

——

Bill hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. Really, he thought he hadn’t. He thought he’d just been sitting on the floor, back against the wall, tapping his foot and trying to run through all his favorite songs in his head, beginning to end, just to kill some time.

It was harder than it should have been. He kept mixing up names, forgetting lyrics, sometimes forgetting whole songs he’d sung a million times. It was starting to drive him even crazier than usual.

He was about to give up on the whole exercise, just push away the terrifying notion that his mind, trapped in a tangle of delicate neurons and slimy fatty brain matter, was being slowly unspooled and pulled away from him with every second that passed, every cell that died. He was just about to forget all about that completely. But he wanted to finish this one last song. It was a good one, an old classic.

He’d almost managed to get lost in it for a second. Half-singing, half-humming the pre-chorus, idly performing for nobody. “—GONNA RISE UP SINGIN’… HMHM, TO THE SKY… BUT ‘TIL THAT MORNING, THERE’S NOTHIN’ CAN HARM—”

He stopped.

There was a sound. A soft sound in the room. He’d heard it while he was singing. And when he’d stopped, it had stopped too. Just a little too late. Another voice singing with him.

Frozen in place, Bill glanced around the room. It was dark. Still. Not a hint of life aside from him.

Then he saw the door was standing open.

In the doorway stood a triangle. A small triangle with lopsided edges, one side drooping into soft rounded lumps, like a chocolate bar melting in the sun. It was standing there in the doorway, perfectly still. In the dim orange light spilling in from behind, it was a pure black silhouette.

It reached out a hand. In a raspy, weak voice, it began to sing again. As the fire in the hallway swelled to a raging bonfire, began to spit hot forked tongues into the room, its voice was just barely audible over the flames. “so hush, little baby… don’t you cry…”

Bill sat up with a jolt, a half-strangled scream caught in his throat. Looking around wildly, he saw the room was empty. The door was still closed, and shafts of light were poking through the window above him.

“OKAY,” he croaked. “THIS IS GOING TO BE A PROBLEM.”

Then he realized what had woken him. Just outside the window, a car engine was roaring to life.

Bill leapt to his feet, ignoring the headrush and momentary ringing in his ears, and raced to the window just in time to leap onto the trunk and pull himself up high enough to look out through the window. The car driving away had four distinct figures inside. All four Pines, lined up like little ducks, leaving the nest unguarded.

With a quick cackle, Bill dropped back down and grabbed for his lockpick. He wasn’t about to let a golden opportunity like this pass by. They might not be gone for long, but he might not get another chance to explore the upstairs rooms. It was time to get sneaky.

Just as he’d hoped, there was no one to interrupt his trip upstairs; even that dumb pig was nowhere in sight. A quick glance over the bedrooms confirmed his suspicion that he’d find nothing of interest. But when he turned the corner after them, his eye landed on a door left ajar. A tangle of wires spilled out into the hall from inside, and as he drew closer he saw that even if someone had tried, they couldn’t have kept that door shut; there were towering piles of books and corners of machinery jutting against the doorframe. Too much garbage for the room to contain.

Ford’s lab. Jackpot.

Bill could barely contain his maniacal laughter as he snuck around the room. It was like a candy store after he’d killed all the employees; so many treats all ripe for the taking. But he had to be careful, he reminded himself. He couldn’t take anything Ford would miss. He couldn’t leave a trace of his passing. Sure, this place looked like it had all the organization of a hurricane site, but knowing Ford, he probably had an intricate “system”.

Glancing around the half-buried desk, something caught his eye. In an overflowing cup full of pens, one was wrapped in painter’s tape with Stan’s sloppy handwriting in big block letters: “SHRINK PEN— NOT FOR WRITING!!”

Well, that was an intriguing label for a pen. Bill plucked it from the cup and inspected it. It wasn’t a pen at all, he realized. It was one of those little laser light pointers you can crash planes with. Fun in itself, but not any use to him right now… still, “shrink pen”? This required further investigation.

He pointed the pen at an empty coffee mug wedged into an empty spot on the edge of the desk. Searching for the button to activate it revealed a tiny panel on the side which slid away to reveal an even tinier screen and some up and down arrow buttons, with another in the middle labeled “reset”. Intrigued, Bill hit the up arrow, and the screen lit up with numbers and decimals. He set the display to “+2.0”, and clicked the button on the end.

The mug lurched as a beam of purple light hit it, and then began to swell. With a sudden pop, it was twice the size it had been, and Bill had to scramble to catch it before it tipped over and shattered on the ground. He fumbled with it and almost took a pile of papers down in his struggle to right himself. “GODDAMMIT!” he hissed. “IT SAID *SHRINK* PEN, NOT— UGH! LEAVE IT TO STANLEY TO SCREW ME OVER…”

He glanced around hastily, listening for any sign that the noises he’d made were overheard. Nothing stirred, except a few sheets of paper fluttering in the A/C. He sighed and turned to the giant coffee mug. Nervously, he pointed the penlight and pressed the “reset” button.

Sure enough, the cup receded back to its original size. Trying again, he set the dial to “-2.0” instead; as he’d guessed, the cup shrank to half its size this time.

He reset the cup and placed it back onto the circular stain where he’d found it. Then his eye landed on a toolbox lying nearby, and his eye widened with inspiration.

He pointed the penlight at the box and set it to “-0.25”. The box shrank down to the size of a dollhouse prop, and he rushed over to peek inside the tiny lid. He almost cheered; inside was a tiny arrangement of tools the size of little grains of rice. He shut the lid and reset the box’s size; all the tools were in perfect shape once he peeked inside again.

This was it. This was how he’d get tools and steel and rebar down into the basement. This was how he’d avoid discovery until the portal was complete. It was almost too perfect to be true; the only wrinkle was in how he’d keep Ford from noticing the missing pen.

He snapped his fingers. The copy machine! Surely Ford still had that magic copy machine downstairs somewhere. He just had to put the pen through that and then he’d have as many shrink rays as a triangle could ever need! He hadn’t heard the Pines’ car pulling back in yet; maybe he had enough time.

Bill shoved the pen into his hat and rushed downstairs to search. He swung around corners and skidded across floors, giving no mind to his surroundings— nobody was home anyway, and time was of the essence. He slipped on some tile floor, caught a locked doorknob and swung around a corner. He was just about to race forward when a shrill alarm tone sounded from a door just down the hall, and the doorknob started to rattle. Bill let out a barely-stifled shriek of panic and scuffled backwards, fumbling around for a hiding place while keeping his eye on the door. Just before it swung open, he managed to yank open a closet door and wedge himself inside. Through the crack in the door, he saw that big guy, Stan’s employee, hustle out into the hallway. Bill couldn’t remember his name… something dumb, like Smoof or something. He couldn’t even remember the guy’s symbol; he was wearing it on his shirt when they met, but now he was in a plain white dress shirt and suit. And a fez, weirdly. Dressed up uncannily like Stan, when he did his stupid Mr. Mystery act. And as he passed by the closet, Bill heard him muttering: “Hey, next tour’s here! Perfect timing!”

Weird. No time to dwell on it, though. Once he was gone, Bill slipped from the closet and rushed straight back down to the basement. If that guy was here, who knew if the rest of the peanut gallery was around somewhere… hell, if the Shack was having tours come through, any rando could wander away from the group and barge right into him. No way was he taking that kind of risk right now. Not when he finally had something resembling a plan.

He stashed the shrink pen inside that old treasure chest, underneath some blankets. He could have just kept it in his hat, but he wanted to cut down on the temptation to mess around with it. It was hard to resist his destructive impulses at the best of times, and all the harder when he had nothing else to keep him busy. This room was soooo boring. Even the small amount of time he’d spent cooped up in here was starting to feel like an eternity— and this was coming from the guy who spent the whole Triassic Period stuck in traffic. This was worse than that. Still not as bad as the void… but worse than that.

He rolled his eye and flopped backwards onto the beanbag chair. You’re a trillion and twelve, Billy. You’ve watched civilizations rise and fall without needing to blink. You’ve won staring contests with entire species. You can kill a couple hours alone in a room. The portal will be fixed in no time, and this whole ordeal will be over before you know it.

He stared at the blank ceiling and repeated the thought over and over, until he believed it.

——

Once Dipper and Mabel were finished crying and hugging over the thesis project, they launched into the planning stage. Dipper, in true Dipper fashion, had already made a huge spreadsheet with supplies they’d need and ideas to get them started. Before the sun had even finished rising, they were already wrangling the Grunkles into the car for a shopping trip. Stan only barely managed to convince them to wolf down some breakfast before they set out.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of tents, trail cams, hiking supplies, and far too many high-tech gadgets for Mabel to keep up with. Grunkle Ford had happily agreed to lend them a bunch of his inventions, and Stan had turned into a veritable font of advice about weapons. “Remember, kids, never carry a weapon where people can see it,” he’d said in the car. “Nobody should get a chance to nab it from you ‘til your finger’s on the trigger.” Then he’d paused. “By the way, if your parents ask, this conversation never happened.”

Around noon, they’d been at the mall perusing the selection at Richard’s Legally Distinct Sporting Goods, when Stan had heard Dipper’s stomach growling and demanded they break for lunch. He and Ford swore they’d handle the rest of the shopping. Stan even offered to foot the bill for the food. Of his own free will! No griping or anything! Dipper and Mabel both knew that wasn’t a deal to be taken lightly. So they agreed to bike to Lazy Susan’s Diner; maybe they could get an order in before brunch hours ended. Mabel had really been craving some strawberry pancakes.

Between the flurry of shopping, the rushed bike ride to Susan’s, and the dreamy visions of pancakes all crowding Mabel’s brain, she didn’t have brainspace worry about anything. So it wasn’t until the two of them were settled into a corner booth with menus and drinks that the thought of Bill even crossed her mind.

Dipper was in the middle of an infodump about the gadgets Ford had given them. “I’m already calling them ‘Weirdness Scanners’ in my head,” he said, holding two palm-sized contraptions that looked kind of like souped-up, military-grade Gameboys. “It’s oversimplified, sure, but it’s way easier to remember than… whatever Ford called them. See, the screen has a radar display that shows little blips when there’s an anomaly nearby. Anything interdimensional, reality-distorting, logic-defying… pretty much anything about base-level weirdness for our reality. So when we’re tracking a monster… or, y’know, being tracked… we’ll know where to look. And it even records the coordinates so we can check later! In case we’re, like, running or something, and don’t have time to note them down.”

“So does it only work when you hit the switch?” Mabel examined the scanner he’d handed her, inspecting all its sides and resisting the urge to press random buttons. “If it keeps records, maybe we could leave one on in the woods somewhere and see if something weird passes by? Like trail cams?”

Dipper’s face lit up. “Hey, good thinking! We could put these up all over the place! I bet we could talk to Grunkle Ford and set it up so we can get all the readings remotely… then if they spike somewhere, we’ll know to investigate! You’re a genius, Mabel!”

Mabel beamed, a glow of pride filling her chest. But her smile froze when Dipper continued. “We could set them up around the shack to start, and move further out from there. It’d be like a security system! If any monsters get near the house, we’d know right away!”

His voice faded in her ears, drowned out by sudden dread. Bill. There was no way the scanners wouldn’t pick up Bill, right? Magic powers or not, he was still a talking triangle! Definitely not normal! And if that was how the others found out he was hiding in their house…

Her dread was drowned by guilt. What was she doing? Dipper had trusted her enough to make her his partner on this huge project that meant so much to him, and here she was hiding this huge, crazy secret from him! What kind of sister was she? She’d been so hurt when she’d thought he was hiding something… how could she turn around and do the same to him?! It was so selfish, so mean, and for what?? Bill Cipher?? What was she doing?!

“Hey Dipper,” she blurted out. He stopped his brainstorming mid-sentence. Mabel’s throat was dry, she felt all clammy… no way he couldn’t tell she was about to say something really bad. She swallowed nervously and continued. “You, uh… you remember Bill, right?” She winced. What a terrible opening.

“What? Yeah, of course I do.” Dipper was suddenly pale and serious. The lump of guilt in Mabel’s throat got bigger. “Why, did something happen? … Are you having nightmares again?”

Mabel’s throat was almost totally blocked. She tried her best to clear it. “N-no. No, what? Of course not, it’s just…” She paused, trying to think of how to play this right. “I didn’t have… that many nightmares…”

Wrong move. Dipper’s frown deepened. “Uh, yeah you did, Mabel. You woke up screaming for weeks. You couldn’t even look at a snowglobe all winter.”

She twisted a sweater sleeve in her hand, flushing. “I got over that…”

“I’m not judging,” he said firmly, grabbing her hand. “I was right there with you. I still can’t look at marionettes without feeling gross, y’know?”

Her stomach turned, and she squeezed his hand, wracked by a wave of guilt. “Yeah, I know…”

“Listen, Mabel, it’s gonna be okay. He’s dead. He’s never coming back.” Dipper squeezed her hand in return. “And if he ever does, I’ll kill him on sight. I promise.”

Mabel’s throat was too dry to even think about speaking. She just kept her eyes fixed on the table where her hand was clasped in Dipper’s. Should she tell him now? Wait for a better time? Would there ever be a good time? Was there any chance he’d ever forgive her for doing this??

She had no idea, but she knew she had to say something. She had to make a choice…

“Dipper! Mabel!” A loud voice rang across the diner.

They both jolted and looked up, just in time to see Wendy Corduroy as she threw her arms around both their shoulders and pulled them into a crushing bear hug. “I missed you guys!” she boomed.

Mabel laughed, trying not to be crushed in the friendly embrace. Thank God for Wendy. This was the perfect excuse to take a little more time to make a plan about Bill.

Beside her, Dipper dislodged himself just enough to speak. “Wendy, c’mon!” he laughed. “We saw you two days ago!”

“Hey, you’ve only been back for a week! We’re supposed to be making up for lost time!” She mussed up Dipper’s hair. “What, are we just work friends now? We only hang out while I’m working at your house? No weekends?”

“Okay, okay, sorry! We get it!” Dipper was laughing as he tried uselessly to escape. Even if he’d actually wanted to stop the hug, he’d stand no chance. After spending the last nine months helping out with the family lumberjack business, Wendy was totally shredded. Mabel assumed she could pick up a tree with one hand by now. She’d look like an MMA champ if it weren’t for Dipper’s old cap she still wore everywhere.

When Mabel glanced up at the hat, her eyes widened. “Whoa!” She jumped up and pointed dramatically. “New haircut!”

Wendy grinned, stood back and flipped her hair to show it off. “Just got it last night! You like it?”

“Do I?! You look like a rock star!” Mabel gushed. Wendy’s bright red hair was teased up and styled into a spiky glam-rock mullet situation, all flared out dramatically as it fell to brush her shoulders. But most exciting, the edge of her scalp was buzzed short, a patch that wrapped around below her hair in an undercut. Along with the big brash grin from Mabel’s compliment, she’d be right at home onstage with one of those glittery glam-rock bands Mabel had been obsessed with lately.

Her imaginings were cut short as Wendy scooped her up off the ground in another big, rough hug. “That’s exactly what I was going for!” she cheered. “That’s exactly what I told Tambry: give me something my dad hates and Mabel Pines loves!”

They all laughed together, until a second booming voice rang across the restaurant. This one was deep and gravelly, like if Tom Waits had spent twenty years breathing sawdust. “Wendy! We’re headed out!”

“Ugh, speak of the devil,” Wendy groaned, turning to see Manly Dan Corduroy escorting her brothers out the door single file. “Sorry guys, gotta go. See you at the shack tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there!” Dipper promised, and he and Mabel both waved as she followed her family out the door.

Once she was gone, Mabel turned back to her plate, only to yelp and flinch back when her eyes landed on someone standing mere feet away. Dipper hadn’t even had time to turn around yet, so he flinched twice as hard at the sound of Mabel’s yelp, and swung around to glare at the grinning figure. In a high-pitched Southern twang, the kid piped up: “Pines twins! It’s been too long!”

“Gideon,” Dipper said, not quite able to feign convincing enthusiasm. Mabel managed to smile as she sat down and subtly scooted away, further into the corner of the booth. Maybe he was just passing by.

“Aw, I’m pleased as punch to finally run into you fellas!” Gideon continued, taking an uninvited seat right next to Mabel. “I’ve been lookin’ for you ever since I heard you were back! I’ve just been dyin’ to catch up with y’all!”

Mabel’s smile was melting into a grimace. She hoped Gideon didn’t notice. Even if he had tried to kill them multiple times last summer, and stole their house for a while, and been a total creep to her the whole time she’d known him… but still, people could always change. She knew he was trying to turn a new leaf; that much was clear just by looking at him. He’d ditched his usual weird little suit and bolo tie for a graphic tee and a backwards baseball cap. His hair didn’t even look professionally coiffed. And heck, if she was letting BILL CIPHER crash in her family’s basement just off an unconvincing promise to “behave”, she could give Gideon Gleeful a chance too.

Oh, he was still talking. “Y’know, kickflips are a lot easier than folks make ‘em out to be! All my pals were real impressed. You remember Ghost Eyes and those fellas, right?”

Dipper nodded. “The guys who tried to run me over with monster trucks last summer.”

“The very same!” Gideon said brightly. “Gracious, I still can’t believe we ain’t seen each other since then…” he suddenly slapped his hands on the table and stood up, making Mabel jump. “Speaking of which! Y’all notice anything different about me?”

Mabel stared at him, confused. Other than the new fashion choices, nothing about him seemed different. If anything, his face and hairstyle was almost eerily identical to last year, the tall white coif clashing bizarrely with his aggressively casual clothes. What was he expecting them to notice?

Intrigued now, she scanned him up and down. Still nothing jumped out at her, just more skater clothes; pre-ripped jeans, platform sneakers—

Hold on. Those weren’t platforms, those were flats.

“You got taller!” she shouted, so hyped by the discovery that her voice rang through the whole diner.

Dipper and Gideon both jumped in surprise, but the instant he recovered, Gideon was beaming brighter than a nuclear reactor. “I sure did!” he cheered, grabbing Mabel’s hands and hauling her to her feet with him. “I knew you’d notice! Look at this, we’re eye level now! Ain’t that just a delight?”

Mabel grinned uncomfortably. His voice had taken a tone that she didn’t really like. And he really should have let go of her hands by now. Still, when she saw the “you okay?” look Dipper was sending her way, she still gestured at him to stand down.

“Yeah…! That’s great!” she said to Gideon. He was so clearly excited about this, she didn’t want to be rude. “I’m happy for you! You can ride roller coasters now! Like… small ones!”

“Exactly!!” Still beaming, Gideon clasped her hands tighter and pulled them to his chest. “The whole world’s openin’ up for me! Y’know, it really is such a delight to see you again, Mabel… and say, speakin’ of roller coasters, there’s this brand new theme park in town- maybe sometime you and me could mosey on over there, give it a look?”

“OH. Uh. I’m… busy, actually!” Mabel yanked her hands free and sidled away. “I’m gonna be really really busy for the next, uh…”

They all jumped when a new voice cut in. “HELLO! Hot plates coming through! Can we make a little room here?”

Mabel turned to see a girl she half-recognized. Bottle-blonde hair turning brown at the roots, hurried but gorgeous eye makeup that mostly hid the dark circles below her darker blue eyes. A stained apron over a sensible work shirt, a tray of pancakes in her hands, and an ice-cold gaze searing holes straight into Gideon. “Your table’s actually over there, you know,” she said coldly, nodding her head sharply to the side.

For once in his life, Gideon took a hint. “Oh my, look at the time! Sorry to cut things short, folks! Let’s chat more later!” And he scurried back to his table, that glare following him the whole way. And when the girl turned back to look at Mabel again, it clicked.

“Pacifica!” she cheered. “Oh my gosh, it’s you!”

“Uh, yeah, obviously.” The response had no venom in it, which was still a little jarring after all this time. “What, did you think I was Susan? My makeup can’t be that bad”.

“Nah, Susan usually does it better,” Dipper said, leaning back with a wry smile.

“You know there’s boiling liquid in this pitcher, right?” Pacifica jabbed back with a grin, setting out their plates of strawberry pancakes and pouring them each some coffee. (Now that they were teens, that was officially allowed! That had always been the house rule, and they’d already told Mom and Dad no take-backs.)

“Don’t listen to Dipper, your makeup’s gorgeous ,” Mabel said.

Pacifica giggled. “Mabel, you said that about a bird once.”

“Hey, that bird’s mascara was flawless! I still think you should try a style like that.”

“Why don’t you go first.”

“You think I could pull off red and yellow eyeshadow??” Mabel demanded. “I’d look like a freakin’ hot dog! It’s not fair, you make everything look pretty.”

Pacifica snorted, turning pink. “Shut up,” she said, nudging Mabel. Mabel’s chest suddenly clenched, and she tried to gauge the other girl’s expression. Was that too far? Did she say something weird?

Mercifully, Dipper cut off her train of thought. “Okay, what poor bird did you try to put eyeshadow…” Pacifica cut Dipper off by holding out her phone with the secretary bird photos Mabel had sent her last week. “…Oh. Okay, I see your point, actually.”

“You guys are nuts,” Pacifica laughed. “Man, it’s been dull since you left. I know we’ve been talking and stuff, but it’s good to have you back.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dipper said, while Mabel nodded emphatically. “We really missed everybody.”

“We should hang out!” Mabel blurted out. “Make up for lost time! I mean, I know you’ll be working and all, and Dipper and I are gonna have a bunch of cool paranormal research projects to do, but still! We should do something! Like a movie, or, uh…” She trailed off, realizing abruptly that she’d been talking way too long. Finish the thought, Mabel. Suggest something. Dinner? No, that sounds weird. What else is there? C’mon, say something…

“I heard there’s a new theme park in town,” Dipper said with a knowing grin.

“Yeah! Yeah, we should go! That’d be—“ Mabel paused, remembering what Gideon had just said. She felt her cheeks burning, but she made herself finish the sentence. “…That’d be fun. We should do that.”

“We totally should,” Pacifica said. Then a dinner bell chimed from the back of the diner, and she jolted. “Ughhh, I gotta get back to my stupid job now. Call me, okay?” Mabel barely had time to give a thumbs up before Pacifica rushed off.

Once she was gone from sight, Mabel slumped over and let her head thunk against the table. “Ugh…”

“You good?” Dipper asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

Mabel sighed. “That was so awkward. Why was that so awkward? I’ve been texting her all summer, we’ve called and video chatted and everything… why now when we’re in person am I suddenly acting so awkward??”

“You weren’t?” Dipper said. “You seemed totally normal to me.”

“Yeah, right,” Mabel grumbled. “This from the guy who set me up to sound like Gideon…”

Dipper winced. “Yeah… sorry. That was a little mean. But it’s not the same thing, y’know? I mean, he was being creepy.”

“Ugh, I’m glad that wasn’t just me,” Mabel said. “I get that he’s trying, it’s just… I dunno.”

“He’s trying too hard. He should give you space. He really messed things up with you, he shouldn’t be trying to push you into hanging out with him again.”

“Yeah… you’re right. Thanks, Dipper.” Some of the tension in Mabel’s chest released. She celebrated by polishing off a few pancakes.

“But yeah, you’re not acting anything like Gideon with Pacifica,” Dipper continued, once they’d both had time to finish their plates. “She actually wants to hang out with you.”

Mabel flushed. “You think so?”

“Uh, yeah. I have eyes,” Dipper said, rolling them. “She likes you a lot, Mabel.”

Mabel clamped her hands over her cheeks, feeling them burning. “Um. Cool. Okay, good.” Then their conversation flashed back through her mind, and she covered the rest of her face. “It’s just hard to imagine when I’m acting so weird… I don’t get it! She’s our friend now, we’ve been talking for months! Why am I suddenly so nervous around her?!” With an exhausted sigh, she grabbed her water glass and took a big gulp to soothe her dry throat.

“‘Cause you have a crush on her,” Dipper said with a casual shrug.

Mabel spewed her water all across the table. Dipper barely leapt out of the way in time to avoid getting drenched.

“WHAT???” Mabel shouted in a completely nonchalant, unsuspicious way. “Are you NUTS? What are you TALKING about??”

“Oh, are we not at that stage yet?” Dipper asked, mopping the table with some paper towels. “My bad. Forget I said anything.”

“That’s RIDICULOUS. That’s not even– why would you think– that’s not a thing.” Mabel cleared her throat to make her voice sound even less shrill and anxious than it already did. “We’re friends. We’re just friends. I don’t even– I’m not– there’s nothing WRONG with it, but I’m NOT, and even if I WAS, I mean… she’s your ex, Dipper. It’d totally violate the Bro Code.”

Dipper laughed. “My ‘ex??’ We went on one date!”

“Still counts,” Mabel muttered, slumping against the table again.

“Mabel, seriously. We went into the movie as a couple, and before the credits even rolled we’d already decided to just be friends. That’s a relationship duration of less than 90 minutes.”

Mabel winced. “Seriously? Aw, Dipper, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be!” he said with a laugh. “We had way more fun once we stopped trying to act like boyfriend and girlfriend. Nobody’s heart got broken, it was just… we were both trying to force something that wasn’t really there, and once we decided to just be honest with ourselves, it was like a weight lifted.”

Mabel nodded slowly, a hundred awkward middle school dates flashing through her memory. “Well… good!” she finally said. “Because if she did break your heart, I would’ve had to kill her.”

Dipper laughed, shaking his head like he’d heard that joke a hundred times. She laughed with him, even though she wasn’t even slightly joking.

“Y’know, it’s funny,” Dipper said. “On our date, there was one big thing that tipped me off that we should just stay friends. Pacifica was laughing at some joke in the movie, I forget what it was, and then she just casually said ‘I wish Mabel was here, she’d love this–’”

“Uh, HEY! What’s that??” Mabel shouted, jumping up from her seat and pointing at the window across the diner. She’d just been desperately scrambling for a chance to change the subject before her face turned even redder. But then, like a gift from the heavens, there was a blinding flash of light.

And then, like a gift from… somewhere else… a power line pole caught on fire.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged that look that always meant “let’s check it out” and raced to the window. They were just in time to see a sparking blob of light leap out of the fire and slide across the power line like a skateboarder grinding on a rail. Then it leapt out onto a tree branch and bounced from one tree to another, vanishing deep into the forest, leaving bursts of burning leaves in its wake.

The lights in the diner fizzled and went out, just as a mighty roll of thunder swept through the sky. Like an entourage trailing that weird lightning bolt, dark heavy clouds were rushing in overhead, crowding out the sun as sheets of driving rain smashed into the ground. As shouts of alarm and annoyance filled the room around them, Dipper and Mabel locked eyes again. Dipper was holding his camera, lens locked on the trail of destruction the living storm had left behind.

They both broke into grins.

“I’ve got an idea for our first research project,” Dipper said. Mabel extended a fist, and he bumped it with aplomb.

——

Bill was losing his battle against boredom. Despite his very best efforts, his eye kept drifting closed as sleep clawed at him. And whenever it did, he jolted up again the next instant, blazing heat and eye-burning colors seared into his eyelids.

And how could anybody blame him? This place was so bland and unremarkable that it wrapped back around to being weird. Not a single object of interest; even the walls were just dingy off-white. Sure, Bill was no expert in interior design, but all anyone needed was one functioning eye to see that this place needed some work before it reached a comfort level of “bearable”.

Then again, Bill had a funny feeling that Ford had never intended this room as a place for comfort. The vibes were less “hangout den” and more “POW torture chamber”.

So he had to deal with the crappy amenities of a dungeon, and nobody was even bothering to torture him either! His brain had to do that part all by itself. Inconsiderate jerks. This place is getting ZERO stars for customer service.

His hands tensed anxiously. It was too quiet. He was getting too close to dozing off again. He scratched at his arm, felt his claws unsheath and dig into his skin. The sting of pain was reassuring. It reminded him that he was alive. It still wasn’t as fun as before, now that he knew he’d have to deal with scabs and bruises and scar tissue later. But the sharp rush of adrenaline kept his brain wired. Just a little scratch was as intense as when he’d stabbed forks into Ford’s possessed flesh, back in the old days. Like all the sensations around him, it was overwhelming. But at least this was one he could control.

Just as he’d started to draw blood, a sound jolted him back to the present. A knock at the door. Rather, three knocks, two soft and one heavy, then a pause, then the same three knocks.

The kid was finally back. About time; he’d started to wonder if she’d forgotten he was here. He crossed to the door and replied with a shave-and-a-haircut knock.

She almost knocked him over when she barrelled in at top speed. He staggered and shoved the door shut as she turned to him, eyes bright with near-manic excitement. “WHOA!” he shouted. “WHERE’S THE FIRE, KID?”

“We gotta be quick,” she said. “Dipper’s waiting upstairs. I’m just letting you know, the plan’s changed a little.”

Bill’s hands tensed even tighter than before. “HOW SO?” he asked suspiciously.

“So, Dipper and I…” she paused. “…Okay, first you gotta promise you won’t freak out.”

His suspicion quadrupled in size. “UH. SURE.”

“Okay, so Dipper and I are gonna be studying Gravity Falls all summer. We’re gonna be away on nature expeditions, like… basically all the time.”

Bill tried very hard not to let his excitement show. Getting the kids out of the way would be a dream come true, but there was definitely a catch coming up. “…AND?”

“And you’re gonna come with us.”

“WHAT?!?” he roared. He didn’t even think to hold back his rage. This wasn’t the time for tactics, this was pure insanity.

“Hey, you promised not to freak out!”

“YOU TOLD HIM?!?” Bill gripped his head. “I TOLD YOU— YOU SAID—"

“I didn’t tell him!” she shouted. “Just relax, okay?! I didn’t even finish!”

He took in a hissing breath. “THIS BETTER BE GOOD.”

“I didn’t tell Dipper anything,” she said. “He doesn’t have to know until I’m ready. But there’s no way I’m just leaving you in the house all the time while no one else knows you’re here–”

“THE DOOR’S LOCKED!” Bill blurted out.

She scowled. “Oh, come on! You’re a trillion-year-old evil mastermind or whatever! You expect me to believe you can’t pick a lock??”

Part of him almost appreciated that for a second. Then reason came back. “I’M HERE ‘CAUSE I’M IN HIDING, REMEMBER? WHY WOULD I WANT TO SNEAK OUT?!” That was the wrong thing to say, he realized slightly too late. He shouldn’t be giving her reasons to wonder what his plan might be.

“I know you’re not just gonna sit in here all day doing nothing,” she fired back. “Part of the deal was for you to stay close by so I can keep an eye on— so I can supervise you. And I’m not leaving you here while my family doesn’t know to watch their backs!”

“SERIOUSLY? WHAT, YOU THINK I’M GONNA START STABBING PEOPLE THE SECOND YOU TAKE YOUR EYES OFF ME?? I’M NOT A GREMLIN, KID, I’M A FULL-GROWN FULLY REALIZED PERSON!!” He stomped his foot, steaming with frustration. “JUST ‘CAUSE I SOMETIMES DO THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE, THAT DOESN’T MEAN I SPEND EVERY WAKING MOMENT BRAINSTORMING WAYS TO CAUSE PROBLEMS FOR YOU!”

She looked doubtful.

“COME ON! HOW WOULD TURNING ON YOU NOW BENEFIT ME AT ALL?!” He inwardly begged her not to think of an answer. “WHY ARE YOU SO CONVINCED I’M OUT TO GET YOU GUYS?!”

“Why shouldn’t I be?!” Bill actually staggered back at the sudden force of her voice. Her eyes bored into him, white-hot. “You tried to kill us!! You spent a whole summer trying to kill us! And you already said you want revenge! It was really dumb of me to bring you here in the first place… so if you wanna stay, you’re playing by my rules!” She stopped, shook her head, and pushed back some rogue strands of hair. “Besides. You still didn’t let me finish.”

He just stared at her coldly; she took his silence as permission to keep talking. “We’ll be in the woods most of the time. It won’t be that hard to stay out of sight. You’ve just gotta hide in my bike basket on the way there and back, so I know you’re not sneaking around our house. Then just stay nearby until we head back. We’ll keep in touch with texts.”

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING,” Bill snarled. “I SIGNED UP FOR ROOM AND BOARD, NOT TO TRAIL TWO KIDS AROUND A FOREST WHILE THEY CHASE GNOMES ALL DAY! NOT A CHANCE! NO!!”

She gritted her teeth and stared him down. He stared right back, immovable and silent. Nobody blinked.

“Fine,” she said at last. “Then the deal’s off.”

“FINE! WHO NEEDS YOU ANYWAY!” He turned to the window.

She grabbed his wrist.

He jolted in shock at the sudden harsh texture, and tried to tear his hand away. Her grip just tightened, and she started to drag him toward the door.

His stomach dropped. “WHAT— WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“If you’re leaving, I’m walking you out the front door,” she said simply. “If you climb out that window, you could just sneak right back in.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!?” He was using “crazy” as an insult; that’s how crazy this was. “THEY’RE UP THERE! THEY’LL SEE ME!”

“They might not, if we’re quick.” Her voice was ice cold.

Right. As if. And it was clear she wouldn’t lift a finger if they did. He launched his other arm out, and it stretched just far enough to latch onto the opposite wall corner. He planted his feet and pulled against her as hard as he could, but she just kept going. Dragging him along. Her hand was almost at the doorknob.

“THEY’LL KILL ME!” he roared desperately. “YOU KNOW THEY WILL!!”

She turned to look at him. When she met his eye, her steely gaze faltered. Oh, thank GOD. Of course Shooting Star wasn’t that ruthless. She wasn’t just going to drag him out there to his death. She wouldn’t get her hands dirty like that. Hell, she couldn’t even leave him to die in the rain earlier, when all she had to do was walk away! If she was too soft for that, she’d never have the spine to do this. He just had to push a little harder—

But then her features set into a colder scowl than ever. She turned and started dragging him again. SHIT! Had he been smiling? Poker face— he wasn’t used to these stupid face muscles, he never used to have to worry about his muscles moving on their own, he’d forgotten to hold a goddamn POKER FACE—

She grabbed the doorknob and started to turn it. “WAIT! STOP! I’LL DO IT!!” he screamed, wild with terror.

Her hand froze in place. Then the hand on his wrist unclenched and he ripped his arm away, scurrying back to the opposite end of the room.

Her shoulders slumped as she stared after him. The icy scowl was gone, replaced by a look of sheer exhaustion. As if holding that face had been an Atlas-level effort.

“I’LL DO IT.” It was his turn with the scowl; however guilty she wanted to seem, it wasn’t good enough. She’d shown where she really stood on all this. “I MEAN, I GUESS I’VE GOT NO CHOICE, HUH?”

She sighed. “I wouldn’t have let them—”

“SURE,” he said icily. “THAT’S WHY IT MADE SUCH A GOOD THREAT, RIGHT? LOOK, IF THIS IS A HOSTAGE SITUATION, LET’S AT LEAST BE UP FRONT ABOUT IT.”

“It’s not! I just… wanted to be sure…”

“TRUST IS A TWO-WAY STREET, KID.” He took a seat on the beanbag and glared at her. Trying to rat him out to her family was one thing; if anything, he was surprised it didn’t happen sooner. And using it as leverage was just as inevitable. But trying to convince him that wasn’t what was happening was just insulting. What kind of idiot would go against their allies to help some rando, let alone a proven threat? She wasn’t that stupid, even if she wanted to seem like it.

She sighed again. It looked like she wanted to keep talking, but he shot another glare and turned away, leaning back on the beanbag. He wasn’t in the mood to chat anymore.

He heard her fidgeting nervously with something behind him for a minute. Then she spoke up. “I’ll be back later. Once I know when we’re leaving.”

He gave a dismissive thumbs up without turning around. He heard one more sigh, and then the door closed. After a bit of hesitation, the lock clicked too, and footsteps padded slowly up the stairs.

He sat up and glared back at where she’d been. Once he knew he was alone, exhaustion slammed into him. Another entry on the “why bodies suck” list: the adrenaline crash. Because just being scared for your life isn’t bad enough. Your brain has to power wash all the energy out of your body as soon as the rhetorical tiger is gone. Because tigers famously never attack more than once.

“WELL, SOMETHING INTERESTING HAPPENED, BILL. HAPPY?” He rolled his eye and stood up, planning to pace the room and ward off sleep for as long as possible.

Something was piled up by the door. Warily, he approached.

A bunch of snack cakes and energy bars, placed atop a small stack of books. One thick paperback with a black-and-bright-green cover that just said “MISSING”, one with a very dramatic looking painting of cats, one with a mouse running into battle with a sewing needle “sword”; he chuckled a little at that one. And one coloring book with dragons, complete with a couple loose crayons scattered on the floor.

Bill just stared at the pile for a minute. This kid was tough to get a bead on. Talk about mixed signals.

“WHAT THE HELL,” he muttered, and cracked open the mouse book. Little guy stood no chance in hell with that pitiful weapon. Might at least be funny.

[skibasyndrome]

Ok I would love a ficlet with this one bc oh wow 😮‍💨

78. “let me eat you out while you do that, please?”

hi anon!!! thank you so much for sending in a prompt, i am THRILLED to get to this one finally hehehe 💜💜💜

hope you enjoy <3 also someone asked for more needy wille last night, so here he is <3<3<3

cw: nsfw

Wille is going to lose his mind. His fists are clenched in the sheets at his side, arm muscles tight with tension from him trying his best to keep them there. Not to touch. Because he can't tonight, he's not allowed, Simon said so, said Wille had to sit - lie - and watch instead.

And Wille thinks no punishment has ever been worse. Simon is kneeling in the middle of the bed, just out of reach, just a couple taunting inches of space between their bodies. Just enough for Wille to feel like there's a wall of glass between them, that he's not allowed to cross. Like he's a prisoner, and over there lies the coveted freedom. His head is spinning with the pounding force of want. Simon is right there, lazily fisting his cock, slow strokes, his other hand running up and down his chest and stomach in playful patterns. Taking his time, like he could go on all night, no rush, no desire to make himself come quite yet. Wille suppresses a whimper when Simon lowers his hand, starts rolling his balls between his fingers with a low hum. The casualness, the lack of urgency... Wille is nearly bursting out of his skin at the sight of his boyfriend touching himself, jerking himself off with frustratingly unhurried movements, while he's paying Wille no mind at all. Sometimes, Simon lets his gaze wander, looks up from where he's touching himself and up towards the headboard, where Wille is holding on for dear life. If Simon has thoughts on it, he's hiding them well. Nothing but the soft lines of arousal on his face, nothing but the flicker of his eyes over Wille's stretched out form. Like he's perfectly fine with this, almost bored, like Wille is a ghost forced to voyeuristically witness Simon playing with himself. When Simon averts his eyes again, entirely uninterested in Wille's writhing body, and speeds up his fist a little, squeezing around the head the way Wille knows he loves, Wille lets out a ragged groan. Wille wants to hate it, he wants to have a reason to complain for real, wants to find this difficult to get into, but he's so fucking painfully hard. Has been for ages. His cock is lying heavily against his stomach, skin tacky where he's helplessly oozing precum, and, god, he needs Simon to acknowledge it, say something, anything at all. But there's nothing. There's nothing, even when he knows Simon is seeing it, is seeing the way Wille trembles with tension. The idea shouldn't do it for him. But when Simon, humming quietly, looks down, looks at the mess Wille has made of himself, without having gotten any attention at all - nothing, not even a flicker of emotion. Wille's cheeks are burning hot, a weird mix of feeling exposed and ashamed and so fucking turned on by it that he's going to pass out if he can't do something about it soon. Out of nowhere, cutting through the soundscape of slick movements over heated skin, Simon tuts. Wille's cock jumps at the sound.

"How's that feel?" His tone is dangerously casual, like he's just making conversation, like Wille isn't hanging with a single thread. "Knowing I'm going to make myself come and you can't touch?" Wille throws his head back with a whimper, pressing his eyes shut. He's sure he's going to break the fucking fabric clenched in his fingers. Awful, he wants to scream, fucking awful. But that's not quite right, is it, and it's not like it would help him anyways. Simon is giving him payback for being impatient, for jerking off earlier, while Simon was at work, for teasing Simon with texts about it. Whining won't get him anywhere near where he wants to be. He needs to be, wants to be, good and sit out his punishment. "Hmm?" Simon's tone is deliciously taunting and Wille shivers. "Can't even answer me when I ask a question?" The words strike Wille to his core, punching a whine right out of him. He writhes helplessly, trying to get some of the buzzing out of his system. But Simon is unrelenting. Wille doesn't need to lift his head again, doesn't need to look to know Simon is still touching himself, the tell-tale wet sounds are enough. Enough to hammer away at the last bit of Wille's dignity. "Please," is the only word his mouth will let him form, whiny and needy and desperate. "Please Simon, I-" "If you're not even looking at me I can just turn away, right?" Wille scrambles to sit back up, briefly dizzy with the speed of the movement. "No!" he cries, volume surprising himself. But he's too late. He has to watch Simon turn around, knees spread on the bed, has to witness him fully turning away from Wille, depriving Wille of the last bit of contact he had. Wille thinks he's going to cry.

He grabs at the sheets like that's going to save him, like it's going to make Simon change his mind, so Wille can at least see his cock again, even if he has to stay away. But Simon is craning his neck, head thrown back in pleasure, his arm moving faster now than he's done all evening. Simon lets out a moan, loud and beautiful, and snapping something inside of Wille. "Simon...," he begs, unsure what he's even begging for. He wants to promise he'll do better, wants to swear that he can be good, wants to prove that he can sit this out, that he can watch Simon and be okay, wants to- Simon's body is all strong lines, sure movements, he moves his hips, thrusts into his own fist, upper body falling forward and ass sticking out so temptingly that Wille physically feels the force with which the idea lodges itself in his brain. He's beyond desperate, maybe too needy to care for consequences anymore. He just desperately needs Simon. "Please," he rushes out, pulse throbbing in his temples. Maybe it's the change of tone that makes Simon pause, that makes him twist his upper body just enough for Simon to look at him again. The arousal has softened up his features, he doesn't look as indifferent anymore. Wille's toes curl up when Simon's eyes meet his. Now or never. "Can I-" Wille needs to swallow hard, tongue too big for his mouth, throat too dry. "Please, will you let me eat you out while you do it?" Simon's eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but Wille catches it. For a moment, neither of them says anything more. But the burning desperation is making Wille run his mouth. "I won't touch, promise," he says, digging his fingers harder into the mattress to make his point. "Just wanna taste you and-"

He promptly shuts up when Simon quickly moves up towards him, scooting with his knees on either side of Wille's body, with their skin touching, for the first time in ages. Wille nearly combusts. He's about to go in for another round of begging, of promising, of proving himself, but Simon shushes him. "Don't touch your cock, don't touch mine," he commands, and Wille thinks some of the edge has worn off. Still, the words shoot right to his core, right to his aching cock. But with Simon sitting in his chest now, beautiful smooth skin and arch in his back, with him so close, Wille swears to himself to stay good, do as he's told. When Simon moves to kneel over his face, Wille knows he's won. He's salivating at the thought of getting to taste and feel and make Simon feel good. Simon's hands are suddenly tugging on his arms, pulling, grabbing onto Wille's hands and dragging him to his ass. Simon is making Wille spread his cheeks, soft squish and tense muscle underneath, and Wille lets out a helpless moan. Simon immediately muffles the sound by lowering further down and oh, oh, god. Wille moves like on autopilot, move because he knows how to do this, he knows what to do now. With a quiet groan, he lets his tongue circle Simon's rim, tasting sweat and Simon. He grabs him harder, spreads him properly, moans and moans and moans when he slowly works his tongue inside. He barely hears the slick sound of Simon's fist over his own noises, his breathing, over Simon's keens and whines, but he keeps his promise, keeps his hands where Simon allowed him to. Lets Simon get himself off.

Feel free to send me some prompts from that list, or just make some up <3 Or read my other ficlets here

also pls let me know what you think <3

[loliskywalker]

Dear God

Author's notes:

This is the first time I've written about Anakin, and it's also the first time I'm posting something I wrote. I've always had a hard time developing my ideas when I write, so I hope you enjoy it!

English isn’t my first language, and to be honest, I asked ChatGPT to translate it for me. So if anything sounds weird or off, I’m sorry — I’m still not confident enough in my English to try writing in it.

I’m new on Tumblr, and I’m still learning how to use the platform ;) If you could share what you thought about the “plot” and my writing, I’d be really grateful!

Summuary: A training session with Anakin can make things interesting.

Padawan! Anakin x F! reader

Word count : 1k

Sweat was running down my body as I pushed myself harder and harder to dodge the blaster shots coming my way, while I handled the pulsing lightsabers in my hands with some difficulty.

Because of a slip-up, the small droid managed to graze my arm, and the simulation stopped with the sound of approaching footsteps.

‘You’re overthinking it, you need to relax,’ Anakin said as he walked up and handed me a bottle of water.

‘You know, Anakin, when you voluntarily decided to join me for training today, I didn’t think you were gonna tell me to relax,’ I replied, sighing and taking a sip.

‘I didn’t think you’d let a simple training droid hit you so easily, either.’

‘You’re so annoying,’ I said, rolling my eyes when I noticed the smirk and the sarcastic tone in his voice. ‘I just need to get better with my dual saber technique. Give me just one saber and I’ll take you down.’

‘You could try.’

‘We’ll see,’ I replied as he unhooked his own saber from his belt and I picked up one of mine off the floor.

Dueling with Anakin was always interesting, since the padawan was known for his mastery of the lightsaber, but still, the idea of beating the Chosen One was intoxicating.

The sound of our lightsabers igniting sliced through the air electrifyingly as we prepared. The glow of the blades lit up our faces when Anakin made the first move, quickly closing the distance and trying to hit my right side. I reacted immediately, countering with a series of strikes that he blocked easily.

‘You’re holding back.’

‘I’m planning, Skywalker.’

‘Exactly. Don’t plan. Let the Force flow and just do,’ the older one said firmly.

I sighed as I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I saw him charging at me with intensity. In the next second I found myself caught up in a fierce battle that kept getting stronger and more intense.

With a leap, he jumped over me, and I barely had time to react. I pointed my saber behind my back and managed to disarm him with a quick counterattack, positioning both sabers at his neck.

‘Is that all the Chosen One has?’ I asked with a sarcastic little grin on my face.

‘Is it?’ he replied with his trademark smirk and crossed his arms.

Using the Force, he caught me off guard and sent the sabers in my hands flying across the room. We started fighting again — but this time without our weapons. After a few hits, I managed to knock him to the ground, but he pulled me down with him, and I landed right on top of the blond.

In shock from the position I found myself in, I forgot everything the moment I felt his hands wrap around my waist and those blue eyes captivated me intensely.

Anakin Skywalker was undeniably handsome — no one could deny that. He was very popular among the temple girls, even though he didn’t interact much with others. And now I could feel every part of his body beneath mine — it was definitely breath-stealing.

When his fingers gripped my waist tighter, I snapped out of it and quickly stood up.

‘Sorry,’ I said as I got up, using the Force to bring my saber back to me, and I left the room as fast as I could.

— x —

After a quick shower, I wrapped myself in a robe and was heading to my room when I heard soft knocks on the door. The door opened and my eyes widened — I knew who it was, I could feel his Force signature from miles away.

‘Hey! You forgot your other light—’ His voice trailed off as his eyes locked onto me, his cheeks turning red just like mine.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have just come into your room like that,’ he apologized, staring directly into my eyes. He seemed to be fighting something inside himself, because his eyes were glowing with something I couldn’t quite understand.

‘It’s fine. And thanks for bringing my saber back,’ I said, trying to shake off some of the awkwardness I was feeling.

‘I liked training with you. You’re a good opponent. But next time I *will* be the one to knock you down first,’ the blond replied with a smile.

‘Only in your dreams, Skywalker.’

‘In my dreams I do way more than just beat you,’ he said, so softly, but the silence in the room made his words perfectly clear as he stepped closer to me.

‘Anakin, I think you should go.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘Because you might end up doing something you shouldn’t,’ I said as I stepped back, and he closed the distance between us, making me back into the bathroom door. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what? The “I can’t pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore” look? Or the “I can’t believe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is standing in front of me wearing just a robe” look?’

His voice was low and husky, making my heart race. I could feel his warm breath near my face as he leaned in and buried his face in my neck, leaving soft, warm kisses there.

‘Anakin… we already talked about this.’

‘I know we did. But I can’t help it. Screw the Jedi Code. Let me show you I love you,’ he said, trailing kisses up to my lips, looking at me with that overwhelming wave of feelings and those hypnotizing blue eyes. ‘I love you. And there’s no way some stupid code is going to stop me from feeling what I feel for you.’

I pressed our lips together urgently, pouring everything into that moment — all the time we’d held back our feelings, our thoughts, our desires.

One of my hands went to the back of his neck, the other pulling him closer, feeling one of his hands grip my waist and the other on my neck.

We lost ourselves in kisses that were getting faster and more intense, like if we stopped, the moment would slip away. Something deeper, more powerful, was taking over our bodies. Anakin’s kisses were addictive. When the lack of air became too much, we pulled apart. I started trailing kisses down his neck, hearing his shaky breath against me. I kissed and sucked a spot on his neck, earning a soft sigh from him, then pulled his training shirt up with his help and tossed it aside.

‘You drive me crazy,’ he said with a breathy sigh as I ran my hands across his chest.

‘I know,’ I said with a mischievous smile on my face.

[mortalscience]

criminal minds 18x04 thoughts behind cut (SPOILERS)

GARVEZ CRUMBS: Luke lovingly chiding Penelope for spending too long staring into JJ's eyes and then chuckling at her when he ushered her back. I'LL TAKE THE CRUMBS I'LL TAKE THEM EVERY TIME.

the bits between Penelope and JJ are probably my faaaaavorite parts of this episode!! Penelope hugging her and not wanting to leave her side and having a heart to heart and more hugging and JJ calling Penelope her best friend and Penelope being all "I know" I'M SOBBINGGGGGGGGGG!! I love them so much!!

and to go along with that, a classic JJ and Penelope working together in Pen's lair scene <3 love when they do that!

we got some explanations for stuff in this episode. BAU-gate was shut down, and the reason JJ is back at work is because she found that video and now she's obsessively going after Voit. Which, I'm loving this for JJ's arc. She's angry and grieving and now she will (unhealthily) channel that into taking Voit down. GET HIM, QUEEN. "You're stuck with me you piece of shit." JJ!! I wish for peace for JJ but she is not the type of person to opt for peace.. lbr, none of the BAU are, hahaha.

the unsub of the week had some classic elements that should hopefully appease everyone who wanted the OG CM episode style back? Penelope presenting the case and wheels up and jet scenes and the most CLASSIC element, a standoff with the unsub while they threaten a victim hahaha.

Voit's finally remembering who he is. And it's not going well for him. I think we will see him struggling with accepting his serial killer history and the guilt he will be feeling about it. I am one of the few who likes Voit and his whole storyline so I am enjoying this. I loved the creepy dreams he was having as his brain tried to make sense of the surfacing memories. He knows he has a connection with Rossi, and first it was familiar and fatherly and now it's taken on a sinister tone because he is starting to remember they are Bitter Enemies.

I really like how Voit was acting a little more Voit-like this episode, as his memories start to sleep back in. The childlike attitude is fading away and his smarminess is coming back.

me, a Phoenician, who hates Tucson: yeah I'm not surprised there's a serial killer there. lmaooo.

yet another page taken from the Luke Alvez Playbook when Tyler moved the phone closer to his mouth to say 'please' while talking to Penelope. It's GOTTA be on purpose.. cause damn. Luke did it better tho. lol.

I was amused at the subtle way they showed how weird it was for Tyler to be out in the field when Penelope was surprised by him calling for info, hahaha.

welcome to the team Tyler, here's your first person to die in your arms that you couldn't save. that's ✨ BAU trauma 101 ✨, more advanced courses to come

loooooved the Emily & Tyler bits, I'm so excited because I wanted more scenes between them. she's taken him under her winggggg, teach him to fly, Emily! I have always felt they had a particular connection. "I've been where you are. Wondering if I'd earned my spot on this team." Oh Emily. <3 And her speech about loss, and being able to live with what you've lost.. crying. ;_; Everyone on the team has lost so much. The cruel sacrifice that they all must make.

Ohhh I loved this episode! Can't wait to see how JJ unravels further in her quest to destroy Voit and the internal battle that Voit goes through over remembering what he is.

[wandrianule]

Don't mind me, I'm just going to put Andor S2 and Rogue One in a blender. Then, I'm going to add divorce, co-parenting, healthy relationships, friendship, step-parents, moving on, a dash of angst, and complicated stuff. And we're going to mix it and let's explore how interesting it gets. Let's say...

Cassian evacuates his friends (yes, that includes Brasso, who very much survived that fall from his bike, because of course he did) to Coruscant to live in a safehouse until he can move them somewhere safer. B2EM0 was later picked up by Cassian.

Cassian and Bix give each other another chance and get back together. Not long after, they decide to get married which makes Brasso be concerned because he thinks neither are in the right head space for such a serious commitment but he doesn't say anything. Meanwhile, Wilmon just shrugs because adults are weird. In short, Brasso, Wilmon and B2 are witnesses to their impromptu wedding.

The marriage of one Cassian Andor and Bix Caleen is a mess. Both have a lot of baggage and their mindsets are in an unhealthy place. And it's... They're not okay. Add Bix finding out that they're having a baby to the mix plus the relocation to Yavin 4, and there's so much going on. At the same time, they think that the baby will help them get closer, except... It's doesn't. They try their best to keep their marriage, but eventually realize that it's not working so they make the hard decision to get divorced.

The divorce isn't the worse thing, rather it's actually a game changer. Because now, now they communicate better than they did when they were married. They're there for their child and they're good co-parents.

Brasso is there for both his friends. He also enjoys babysitting where he finishes his shift at Yavin 4's salvage yard for the Rebellion. Bix teases him because "Admit it, you enjoy being, uncle Brass." And Brasso just smiles.

(Later, much later, Brasso has the realization that he feels something more than friendship for Bix the one time he saw her forehead smeared with grease, humming a tune with her child on her hip as she tinkered with something, and thought she never looked more beautiful. Naturally, he doesn't say anything about his feelings. Because what is there to say? It's not like... Yeah, no... The best thing Brasso can do is continue being there for his friend).

Wilmon loves to carry the kid around whenever he visits and B2 is watchful of this new little human.

Bix and Brasso work together in salvaging and fixing up things. Brasso does the heavy lifting and Bix does the rest because she's good at her craft. And if her child needs babysitting, Brasso will watch over him.

Cassian comes and go like the flow of the tides. One moment he's here, then there and other times at the other edge of the galaxy. When he comes to Yavin 4, he visits and spends time with his family and friends. For Cassian, having a child was a very new experience he didn't know he'd have to embark, but he's doing good these days. Also, "Kay, please, stop reading parenting manuals during our missions, I know what I have to do."

What Cassian doesn't say is this: He doesn't tell about the things he's done, the assassinations he's committed for the Rebellion, the sabotage he has had to do and the times he's shed tears where there's no one else around, except Kay (who continually tells him he'll erase his databanks if he wishes to). He doesn't tell that his hands are stained red and there's nothing he can do about it. He doesn't say that he's tired and jaded, but that he'll do what must be done for the sake of the Rebellion.

But then, Operation Fracture happens. And Cassian suddenly disappears from the map. And things take a different turn. And so, things change in a whirlwind of chaos.

And as part of Operation Fracture, Jyn Erso is busted out of prison. Jyn Erso who hits Melshi with a shovel and then tries to escape. Jyn Erso who steals Cassian's blaster from his bag. Jyn Erso who challenges Cassian like no one else has done before. Jyn Erso who is constantly on his mind. Jyn Erso who reignites the fire he felt for the cause that had faded for so long. Jyn Erso, whom Cassian gathers an army for, and Jyn Erso who wraps her arms around him at what seems to be the end of the world.

Except somehow Rogue One manages to survive. They live. Not everyone survives, of course. But some live.

The moment Jyn finds out Cassian was married, had a child, and then got divorced, people are expecting the drama. In fact, there are bets about it. What they don't expect is Bix and Jyn getting along like a house on fire, and Jyn taking one look at their kid and being like, "Well, at least, he's prettier than you, Cassian." All Bix can do is laugh and laugh at the expression her ex makes.

Cassian and Jyn don't get together right away. They're friends and then best friends. They're like "uña y mugre" or "uña y carne" as Cassian's father used to say back in Fest about his best friend. They're partners, they're inseparable. They're a slow burn in the process of being something more.

Bix can't stop elbowing Cassian because "You're so bloody obvious. Just ask her on a date!" Meanwhile, Rogue One and Jyn's new friends at the Pathfinder can't stop telling her the same. It takes Cassian and Jyn some time to have the courage to ask each other out. Everyone is happy for them when they officially get together.

The little Andor is a menace. He's at that stage in life where you can't look away for a second because he'll probably be climbing the ladder to the X-wing fighter or jump off a cliff. Also, "Kay, will you stop giving me anxiety with the statistics?"

Brasso is amused at the little one's adventures. He's also the one the little Andor listens to when he tells him to stop. This causes Bix to be like, "You gotta teach me your tricks. He's a whirlwind!"

These days Brasso and Bix are closer than they've ever been. They work together like a well-oiled machine. "No, we're not together, Wilmon. What makes you ask that?" And "Dammit, Cassian, not you too! He's my bloody best friend!"

(It's not that Bix is in denial about feelings or anything. It's just... it's complicated, okay? Brasso is her ex-husband's best friend and also hers too, and they've known each other forever. She doesn't want to ruin their friendship. Also, it's not like he could ever feel the same).

(Wilmon thinks Brasso and Bix are idiots, and should just talk about things. Cassian also agrees with him, even though for him it's very strange but he wants his best friends to be happy too).

Everything turns out fine between Brasso and Bix. It just takes them time.

The war eventually ends. A lot of things happen as we all know, but all is well.

The little Andor grows up with a lot of uncles, aunts, a great stepdad and a kickarse stepmom, and awesome parents. K2 and B2 are around too (probably snipping at each other).

And that's it. That's the story. You can y'all add more if you want to. And if you feel inspired to write something similar, tag me so I can read it. Until then! 😁

[a-d-nox]

numerology observations

it's not your typical numerology - i get it - but i am a tarot girlie, i cant help it with the major arcana observations.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

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work ID number

number reduces to 14

my time at this job might require me to maintain balance - whether that’s balancing workloads (true, i often get multiple due dates for projects and mailers, while also dealing with other role responsibilities), navigating different personalities (very true my boss has a very different personality from me - but then again big personalities are difficult for me as a reflector), and/or having to blend my skills in a way that creates harmony (true again - my job blends my creative side with logical side). the energy suggests a job where adaptability and steady progress are key. i may not see immediate results, but over time, things will align as they should with my long-term journey.

number reduces to 21

this workplace is a major stepping stone in my journey - one where i gain significant experience, reach a peak, or even wrap up a long cycle of growth. it’s often a sign from the universe of fulfillment and recognition after hard work. maybe this job will be a place where i feel accomplished, or it will set me up for my next big chapter...

library card number

number reduces to 10

my experience with books, knowledge, and learning are deeply tied to the shifting phases in my life. i tend to come across books “by chance” that are exactly what i need at that moment. i am very much a casual/mood reader - that's why i like using my card though affiliated apps like cloudlibrary and kanopy (it's for movies, but you catch my drift - it's still a library feature). i do experience a lot of ups and downs in with my library related reading habits - sometimes i devouring multiple books in week, other times i'll be struggling to finish one and often i will dnf multiple in a week just because they don't interest me. overall, my library card number could symbolize the expansion of my mind!

phone number

number reduces to 9

a phone is all about connecting with others, but this could suggest that my phone is a tool for broadening my perspective (which is super true, it's more often for research than it is for talking with others), connecting with distant people (often the people i do text or call with are states away one upon a time they were countries away), and having deep, meaningful conversations (people only call me for a conversation, if it will indeed be longer than 30 minutes). i tend to offer emotional support, advice, and just generally being there for people at a distance (that's so hermit coded to say).

license number

my number reduces to 6

my traveling has more to do with maintaining relationships and helping others than anything else. driving to me involves many important choices - taking responsibility for travel and the transportation of others and also knowing multiple ways of getting around there's like 3+ ways to get everywhere i need to go and i never seem to gravitate to just one of those ways which is weird to me. the lovers is a nurturing energy, meaning my car or driving habits often involve family, friends, etc. i tend to drive people around, travel to see family, etc.

license plate number

number reduces to 20

car might be tied to significant turning points, whether that’s major life choices (the car it's on now was bought off the dealership showroom floor), new beginnings (my plate has been on a few different cars during my lifetime and once was my mother's), etc. travels seem to align with fated encounters (i have had a couple final destination moments - recently with a shovel in the back of a truck on the highway (don't worry, i swerved it)) or other significant events (that car got into an accident the day after we bought it within 10 miles of my home).

bank accounts and/or credit/debit cards

number reduces to 5

learning experience - i'm frequently exploring new ways to manage money, such as different investment accounts, cash back featured, and/or shifting financial priorities. might teach me important financial lessons, whether it's through mistakes, the unexpected, and/or new financial strategies.

number reduces to 7

research purchases, looks for the best deals, and avoid impulsive spending. this is honestly the MO of a credit card that can fast track to carry a balance long-term and even get max-ed out. this is another card/account that can present lessons for the carrier because often these holders need to have a plan/strategy for how this card/account will be use.

number reduces to 12

frequent pending transactions, financial stagnation, and/or needing to be patient for rewards is common (pretty typical for like CDs, bonds, and/or checking accounts). this account is likely to cause questions on how one manages their money.

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[winniexsturn1olo]

Almost Was (part 8)

part 1: part 2: part 3: part 4: part 5: part 6: part 7:

Things That Stay

warning: fluff, mention of period, kissing, cuddles that's it!

summary: you and Matt have been best friends since you were born, he always had feelings for you but never told you because he was scared of losing you, until you both got paired for a group project and he was going to confess to you at a party but then he sees you kissing someone else..

Morning came slow.

Sunlight dripped in through the blinds, casting soft gold lines across the tangle of sheets and limbs.

Matt was still asleep — one arm draped over your waist, his face buried halfway in the pillow, lips parted just slightly. His hair was a mess, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that somehow made you feel safe again.

You hadn't felt safe in a long time.

You smiled, reaching up to gently run your fingers through his curls, watching the way his lashes fluttered at the contact.

He stirred.

And then, with a groggy little groan, Matt cracked one eye open.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice gravelly and low.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

He smiled sleepily, pressing his face into your neck. “You're warm.”

“I'm always warm,” you laughed softly.

He hummed. “Yeah, but now I get to actually enjoy it.”

You stayed wrapped around each other for a while, just breathing in the quiet — no fights, no past wounds, no storm outside.

Until—

You felt it.

A dull ache. The kind you knew too well.

You froze. Eyes widening. That sinking realization setting in.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, gently pulling away.

Matt blinked, sitting up a bit. “What? What’s wrong?”

You glanced under the sheets. Confirmed it.

“I got my period,” you groaned. “Perfect timing.”

Matt blinked again, then tilted his head like a confused golden retriever. “Wait, now?”

“Yes. Literally right now.”

You wrapped the sheet around yourself, embarrassed, already starting to move off the bed. “I’ll—uh—I’ll take care of it.”

But Matt sat up quickly and grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “Hey. Don’t be weird about it.”

You looked at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s not exactly cute, Matt.”

He grinned, teasing. “Still cute to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re literally impossible.”

“I’ll prove it,” he said, hopping up. “What do you need? Heating pad? Chocolate? Seventeen tampons from the corner store even though I get lost reading the box?”

You laughed despite yourself. “Matt—”

“I’ll Google ‘how to pamper your girlfriend on her period’ right now, don’t test me.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

Matt stepped closer, cupping your cheek. “Not yet.”

You stared at him, heart in your throat.

He leaned in, brushed his nose against yours. “But I’m not going anywhere this time. So yeah… I’m all in.”

The quiet that followed was different than all the silences before.

It felt like a beginning.

You reached up and kissed him, slow and soft, like an answer to a question he hadn't asked.

Then you pulled back, smirking. “Fine. But if you actually go buy pads, get the purple pack.”

He grinned. “Done.”

----

Matt didn’t leave your side.

Not even for a second.

Once you admitted what happened, flustered and half-mortified, he didn’t laugh. He didn’t act weird. He just said, “Okay. sweetheart I'll go to the shop,”

Like taking care of you was second nature.

He tossed on sweats, grabbed your spare key from the dish by the door, and was gone for fifteen minutes — long enough for you to pull on clean clothes, bundle yourself in a blanket, and overthink every second of last night.

Was it too much?

Too fast?

Were you just relief to him? A moment of passion in the ruins of everything else?

But then he came back — slightly out of breath, hair windswept, arms full of a grocery bag, a heating pad box, and a small bar of your favorite chocolate.

You blinked. “You really did go to war for the purple pack.”

Matt kicked the door closed with his foot, grinning. “I asked the pharmacist like six questions and she started laughing halfway through. I’m pretty sure I’ve unlocked some hidden boyfriend achievement.”

Your stomach fluttered a little at the word boyfriend, but neither of you brought it up.

He set the bag down, took one look at your pale face and the way you were curled up in the blanket — and immediately climbed in behind you.

“You okay?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You nodded, leaning back into him. “Just cramps.”

“I googled,” he said proudly. “Cramps are like little demons trying to punch your uterus from the inside.”

You laughed — actual laughter, surprised and grateful. “That's... surprisingly accurate.”

Matt pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I got Tylenol and, uh, tea. And the chocolate. And... there’s a squishmallow in the bag but I won’t talk about it unless you wanna.”

You turned slightly to look at him, eyebrows raised. “You bought me a squishmallow?”

“I panicked in the checkout line,” he admitted. “He’s shaped like a cow.”

Your heart melted in slow, stupid waves.

Matt’s eyes softened. “Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

“Last night wasn’t a mistake.”

You swallowed hard. “I know.”

“But I don’t want you to think it was just the heat of the moment. Or me trying to avoid how hurt I was. Because I was. But it didn’t change how much I—”

He paused.

Searched your eyes.

Then said it:

“—how much I still love you.”

You blinked. The world stilled.

Your voice cracked. “I love you too.”

Matt let out a shaky breath, relief washing through his expression like sunlight.

Then he kissed you — soft and slow, no rush. Just the kind that said we're safe now. We made it.

He curled tighter around you after that, arms wrapped around your waist, his body warming yours as you drifted in and out of light, crampy sleep.

Every time you stirred, he murmured, “I’m here.”

And for once — for finally — he really was..

a/n: FINNALYY. also hope your loving this series so far! its nearly finished!

[madamejadex]

Hey Miss Jade, I’m going back on anon for this one and without my emoji because I’m too nervous to ask you this. It’s nothing too much compared to other things I’ve done but I know there’s still judgment out there surrounding it.

I have an oral fixation and in my last relationship something I found quite comforting was playing with my partners boobs, mainly with my mouth. She also enjoyed it as she had very sensitive nipples and that was a turn on for her, but I also enjoyed it both sexually (because it turned her on a lot and I knew that) and non-sexually (I guess it was comforting).

Now I don’t have an issue with it sexually because I know that it’s something many people explore and use especially as foreplay but I find it hard to feel okay about it non-sexually as a comfort. Just the repetitive nature of that time and the stillness/ closeness that brings feels soothing but the idea that people think it’s wrong/ weird or babyish bugs me because then it makes me feel weird about myself (for lack of better words). And I wanted to add, this is to do with the sensation specifically, rather than any form of lactation or breastfeeding kink specially I guess because those aren’t things that I have a strong pull too.

So basically what I wanted to ask, was your opinion on this, or if you’ve had experience with this/ oral fixation in anyway. Of course, you’re more than welcome not to answer, or to answer in your own way removing anything you don’t want to discuss.

I’m sorry if any of this makes you uncomfortable or if I cross any boundaries. Thank you for your time 💜

- She/her 21

Hi, my dear,

I want to begin by saying how much I admire how strong you are for sharing something like this. Questions and confessions tied to intimacy can carry so much vulnerability, especially when they touch on insecurities, comfort, or desires that might be frowned upon. So thank you for trusting me with it.

Now, I can only speak from the receiving side of this dynamic, as I’m usually the one guiding my partner or letting them know when I enjoy having my breasts touched, kissed, or sucked. And to be honest it's something I absolutely love, but most of the time it isn’t always about desire in the overtly sexual sense. Often, it’s something soft and tender. A way to feel connected while watching a movie together or curling up in a quiet moment. There’s usually a subtle current of arousal under the surface, but more than anything, it brings comfort. A feeling of being wanted, cherished, and loved.

I’ve never really felt embarrassed about having my ex partners sucking on my breasts in a non-sexual way. Perhaps because those moments took place in the sanctity of my private space. And what happens in that sacred space is mine. It doesn’t belong to the outside world, and it certainly isn’t for anyone else to judge or label. So I never really saw it as something to feel ashamed of. But at the same time, it’s not an act I’d engage in publicly. Not because it's wrong, but because some things belong to intimacy, not performance.

And to be fair, I don’t like placing too many labels on acts like these. From the outside, someone might assume what I’m describing fits into CG/lg or a similar dynamic, but I’ve never explored regression or age play with my past partners. For me, it’s never been about that. It’s simply something I enjoy. Something that relaxes me, connects me to my partner, and makes me feel deeply cared for.

So if I can offer you one piece of comfort, let it be this: What you enjoy in the privacy of your own space, is yours. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. And you certainly don’t need to defend or rename your desire to make it more palatable. Because the moment we let the outside world tell us what is and isn’t acceptable in our private intimacy, we risk severing ourselves from the softness we crave most.

So, I truly hope you find another partner who delights in it as much as your ex did. Because trust me, there are many of us who love oral fixations. Whether it’s to have our fingers, breasts, thighs, or anything else sucked… being cherished that way is something I for one have never taken for granted.

So embrace who you are, sweet one. There are women out there waiting for someone just like you.

xo Miss Jade

[ddarker-dreams]

Hiii just wanted to say that yan anaxa fic was v tasty and u captured his special kind of crazy swag so well (also the fic itself reads v smoothly)!!

If you dont mind could u explain the way u went about it (up to u how in-depth) like i know hes not particularly difficult to see doing weird yan shit cos hes a weird guy but idk the v candid shyness at the mention of his loneliness, the denial of the divine being a key driving force to his character but willingly offering to beg/bow the reader and many others but im rambling GRAHHHH EITHER WAY UR A V SKILLED AUTHOR AND IM GRATEFUL I GET TO READ UR WORK

Have a lovely day!! <33

there's nothing i love more than an excuse to dive into the behind the scenes of a fic 👁👁 even short stories have lots of time and thought poured into them!

this excerpt from the 'as i've written — amphoreus' saga of heroes' left a strong impression on me. (unrelated, but has anyone noticed how anaxa's character card is reminiscent of the major arcana's hanged man? how fitting...) whenever i write a character for the first time, one of my first goals is identifying what makes them distinct. i try building their characterization around that.

for anaxa, this narrowed down to:

his heretical tendencies in a relatively god-fearing society

willingness to engage/debate ideas he disagrees with

history in alchemy

how he 'leans into' the theatrical rather than being a stern, distant intellectual

a tendency to never give outright answers, instead helping others arrive at conclusions for themselves through well-timed comments and guidance (e.g. castorice's story arc)

with these as my guiding principles, i felt more comfortable characterizing him. honestly there's still a lot of guesswork and pruning along the way. i toned down his condescension because it didn't feel right. i write a lot of condescending characters (looking at you, chrollo, gojo and geto), so i have to be careful to not let that seep into characters it doesn't work with 😭

another few notes regarding his characterization:

i tried leaning into his desire to cultivate knowledge in his pupils. since the start of the story is ambiguous about what exactly anaxa has done, i wanted his questions to put you, the Actual reader, in the MC's shoes by having you piece together wtf is going on. once the MC reveals his 'crimes' it's then up to you to determine how much of this (or if there's anything else) anaxa is guilty of.

if you're curious, i made it a rule for none of anaxa's dialogue to contain outright lies. he's still being shady tho

when darling says, “You must be lonely, professor" we see a change in his behavior because that hit a little too close to home. he actually finds disclosing that he enjoys darling's company more embarrassing than his verbose declarations toward the end of the story. it's just a little too intimate, hence his rush to move on by bombarding darling with his unhinged nonsense.

i hope this is what you were looking for ,, thank you so much for your kind words and interest in my writing!!!

[nebrasska-alasska]

I know it might sound a little strange to say this, but I really wanted to let you know: in the Sonadow fandom, especially on Reddit, your stories are some of the most loved by so many people. It honestly makes me so happy because it proves just how special and impactful your work truly is.

As for me, I do not think I will ever stop reading what you create. Your writing feels like a gift to the Sonadow community, and I am deeply grateful for every piece you have shared with us.

But now, please take the time you need to rest. You have given us so much already, and you deserve the chance to breathe, recharge, and take care of yourself. There is no rush. Whether you are thinking about the next fic or just stepping away for a bit, remember that what matters most is that you feel happy and comfortable with what you write.

We are not here to pressure you. We are here because we genuinely love you and everything you create. Thank you for everything. ❤️😘

AWWWWWWWW THANK YOU!!! That honestly makes me so damn happy to hear, I am so glad that you and others enjoy my stories so much!!! I am truly so honored by all of the love and support I have received for them, so I really appreciate you coming by to share this!!! <3

And I promise I've been resting!!! My national park trip was actually a very good break and gave me a lot of time to reflect and generate even more ideas for my Sonadow stories both ongoing and unwritten! And even though it has been more than a week since I've last posted, I actually have been writing a decent amount! I mentioned this elsewhere, but I've been working on my Sonadow Exchange 2025 story, so you all will have a full-fledged, completed fic to read when I finally release that mid-late June. It feels weird to have been writing a story without focusing on releasing one chapter at a time, but it's coming along quite nicely at the moment and I can't wait to finally share it with everyone! :D

But anyways! Thank you so much for the sweet words and I am so grateful for your kindness and motivation!!! You have my deepest love and appreciation!!!