#I'm not entirely sure what timeline this is but it's definitely not the good one lmao

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

I literally love your writing skills they are so good!!!! I wonder do you have any hcs for the Tokyo revengers boys/girls if their crush got asked “ do you know *insert there name*?” And their crush says “ the weirdo who won’t leave me alone ?”

Noooo! Most of them definitely aren't taking that too well but here is how I think each of them would react to being called weird by their crush

Takemichi- He is heartbroken, you actually think he's a weirdo!????? Ends up feeling embarrassed because of it and avoids you for a few days after that.

Mikey- Straight up thinks you must be talking about a different Mikey. There's no way he's a weirdo or been weird towards you right??? Draken face palms behind him.

Draken- Coughs a bit in surprise. Is he weird? He thought he was doing everything well and coming off as a good guy towards you. Vaguely makes plans to ask the girls at his place for more advice later.

Baji- "tch" he's a bit upset about this but instead it comes out as if he's annoyed. He's more annoyed at himself then anyone else though, vows to leave you alone after hearing that (but will he actually???)

Chifuyu- Shouts a "huh!???" before quickly covering his mouth and hiding. Blushes and frowns, you're not supposed to see him as weird! Tries to figure out how to seem not weird to you later.

Mitsuya- Actually approaches you after and apologises to you. He never meant to come across as being weird towards you and doesn't want to freak you out.

Hakkai- Goes bright red and quickly rushes away. Buries his face in his pillow the rest of the day.

Pah- Mumbles about you the rest of the day, he's a bit hurt by your words but figures he must be doing something wrong for you to say that.

Peh- Invades the conversation to ask you what you mean. 

Smiley- Blushes and curses, he isn't entirely sure what he's doing wrong with you but decides to try being more "normal" around you. Probably asks Angry for advice but pretends he's asking for a friend instead of himself.

Angry- Immediately hides himself from you. Wonders if it's because of his facial expressions???? Decides he's going to try smiling at you at least once instead.

Mucho- Frowns, thinking that's not great. Tries to bring you a snack the next day, as a way of making friends.

Sanzu- He's thrilled by this, he's just glad you noticed him so doesn't care if you think he's weird for now. He's sure that he can change your mind anyway.

Kisaki- Scowls, this is not going to plan. Listens further to your conversation to see if he can gather any other information from you. He will change your mind.

Hanma- Immediately comes up behind you, slinging his arm over you and acting like your words really hurt him. Everyone can tell he's just trying to tease you though.

Kazutora- Tries to shrug it off but keeps thinking about you calling him weird. He figures he should probably just give up on you, that he doesn't stand a chance anyway. He's disappointed but may get over it and try again later.

Koko- Feels guilty, he was supposed to make you feel happy and safe, not weird or thinking of him as being weird. Leaves you anonymous presents to try and make up for it.

Taiju- Goes and beats up some random guys to get his frustration out. He's just so frustrated with the whole situation, he thought he was doing well with you but apparently not. 

Izana- Laughs, he thinks it's cute that you think that now but you definitely won't by the time you truly know him. He doubles down in his efforts to get to know you, he's determined to make you see him in a better way. 

Kakucho- Blinks in surprise then deeply sighs. He isn't really sure what he's doing but apparently it's been wrong. Goes to Izana for advice (not a grear idea).

Ran- Walks up to the two of you, making a light joke about hearing his name, his eyes look deadly serious though. Asks you to repeat what you just said then laughs and walks off. You're not sure what he has planned to prove you wrong but it gives you a bad feeling.

Rindou- Curses under his breath. How do you think he's weird!? Assumes you may know of his reputation so spends the next few days trying to show you he can be gentle towards you.

Shion- Frowns at first but quickly convinces himself that you must of meant it in some kind of good way???? Continues with what he was doing before, he will show to you how much he cares. 

Mochi- Punches a wall, he doesn't like that what he's doing isn't working. Decides to distance himself a bit from you, he'll be less direct with his affection towards you.

Wakasa- He's so amused by this, you really think he's weird? Wants to know exactly what it was that makes you think that. He's definitely going to ask you about it at some point later on, he's always preferred the direct approach anyway. 

South- Stands behind you waiting for you to finish. After you do he insists on talking to you (he actually plans on proving to you that he's not weird). 

Benkei- He's shocked! Sure the two of you aren't exactly dating or friends yet but he assumed he was more to you then just that "weird guy". Complains about it to Wakasa after.

Shinichiro- He's utterly devastated, assumes you hate him now. But he perks up a bit when he realises that you technically haven't rejected him yet. Decides to try even harder with you, only using his best flirting for you!

[raguiras]

One of Deuce's old delinquent "friends" was being weird with Yuu (Allen)...

Reblogs are extremely appreciated! 👉👈

Allen suffers from major insecurities and trauma caused by people commenting on him and bullying him for his rather feminine appearance, and Deuce, who's already quite protective over casual friends, DEFINITELY ain't taking it.... That said, these two have a massive "cute mutual protectors" dynamic and Allen protects/defends Deuce equally much!

YEAHHH the third part of my Allen x Deuce ship introduction is here!! I'm brainrotting so hard—

Previous parts: part 1 // part 2

Next up is most likely the ship event post I mentioned before 👀

Below is the second part of Allen & Deuce's relationship timeline! Its first part can be found here.

SPOILER WARNING for Book 5 & Book 6!

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BOOK 5:

Between Book 4 and 5, Allen finally had his top surgery (he's intersex & used to wear binders). Deuce not only accompanied him to the hospital, but also stayed in the next room for the entire duration of the surgery and made sure to immediately visit Allen once it was over. He sat by the blonde boy's bed, his mere presence comforting Allen and making him feel at peace. The following days, Deuce spent even more time at Ramshackle and strictly slept over every night as he wanted to be 100% attentive and take perfect care of Allen all around the clock. Needless to say, Allen constantly thanked Deuce for being there for him, and it only intensified his own feelings... Allen had never been taken care of this much before, and it was probably more than what an average friend would do for you, right...? Did this mean...? No, Deuce couldn't love him. Nobody could. That's what Allen had been taught all those years, after all. And if so many people had said it, it had to be the truth...

Unfortunately, the VDC got announced shortly after Allen's surgery, and his recovery included a strict prohibition from sports or anything exhausting. Allen, being an aspiring musician and good dancer, cursed to himself — this would've been THE opportunity to go viral — and the Heartslabyul freshman listened to him rant. That's when Deuce ultimately decided that he'd audition... he wanted to support his mom with the money and keep an eye on Epel anyway, and now, he could not only fulfill his recovering crush's dream for him by performing and hopefully promoting Allen through it, but also impress him...

Little did Deuce know that Allen didn't need to be impressed. Watching Deuce practice — yes, even when he didn't get a single step right and tripped over his own feet — was super cute and gradually attractive to Allen, not to mention that the blonde boy really liked Deuce's voice as well...

Training was hard for Deuce, but knowing that Allen was watching certainly helped... He did his absolute best and followed Kalim and Jamil's guidance as closely as possible. Couldn't mess up in front of his crush, right!?

When Deuce got selected to be a performer and Allen became the manager, both of them celebrated in joy. While neither of them mentioned it, this meant that they'd get to spend even more time together...

...and when Vil decided that everyone would stay at Ramshackle for the preparation period, these two mentally celebrated even more. Now they'd officially live together for a couple weeks...

In order to prevent shenanigans and an angry Vil, Allen searched for sugar-free alternatives of Deuce's favorite snacks as well as food tasting similar to them. However, Allen would occasionally let Deuce snack on his own secret reserves whenever the two were together in Allen's room, away from prying eyes.

Deuce had problems sticking to Vil's prescribed skincare routine, so Allen decided to help him with it. He reminded Deuce of the routine every morning and evening and also helped him apply the products.

Deuce also struggled with the set bedtime and asked Allen to remind him to go to bed early. Considering that Allen had been struggling with his own sleep schedule for some time and would often stay up until past 3 am on the worst nights, the two decided to simply share a bed on most days so they could "force" each other to sleep on time. Not only did this intensify their relationship even more and excite both of them, but it helped Allen fall asleep much sooner... Deuce's presence was soothing to him and distracted Allen just enough for him to not overthink his life prior to going to bed.

During the preparation period, Allen offered to help Deuce with his vocals, which the Heartslabyul student excitedly accepted. Not only could he improve his own singing through it, but spend even more time with Allen and listen to his beautiful singing voice a lot, too... Additionally, Allen was able to efficiently teach Deuce due to being a self-taught singer with little knowledge on technical terms and theory, resulting in extremely easy and comprehensible explanations that could actually be understood by Deuce.

On occasion, Allen also taught the blue-haired boy basic makeup skills and sometimes even did Deuce's makeup for him. Needless to say, there were TONS of eye contact and blushing involved...

In addition to this, Allen kept helping Deuce with his gradually improving self-control and school work. Deuce, too, assisted Allen with the rest of his recovery and was super attentive.

Due to the combination of the shared dorm, their close friendship, their study sessions and the intense VDC preparation, Allen and Deuce were quite literally spending the entirety of every day together by now. While they had always been around each other a ton, this was what ultimately made them come off as inseparable.

You would've thought it would be impossible for Deuce to fall any harder, but oh boy... with every passing day, it only got worse. Deuce basically had heart eyes like a lovesick puppy at the mere mention of Allen.

While Deuce tried to hide his ginormous crush, it was impossible to deny. Everyone could see the way Deuce looked at Allen with nothing but admiration and love in his eyes, and Ace even started getting concerned due to how down bad & out-of-character Deuce appeared to be.

Whenever Allen wasn't around, Deuce would even ask Vil and Rook for advice on his appearance and compliments. He was desperate to impress and woo Allen and awkwardly admitted this to the two Pomefiore housewardens, too. Neither were surprised as they had already Deuce's crush on Allen, and they ended up actually giving the boy some advice.

When Deuce once came over to visit friends and pick up some things at Heartslabyul, Cater was blown away by the strong scent of his cologne. The fact that Deuce had suddenly bought something like that sure was surprising, especially considering that the boy was usually more of an Axe guy...

Not only that, but Deuce practiced the dance in front of his mirror extremely often, too. It had to perfect... HE had to be perfect for Allen. After all, the blonde boy was way out of his league...

Being around Deuce so much made Allen's feelings grow quickly, too. However, unlike Deuce, Allen absolutely HATED them and tried to get rid of them out of fear of being rejected and hurt again. All those years, he had been taught that nobody could ever love him and that developing a crush on him was basically impossible, so why would Deuce of all people like him back?! Allen actively denied his feelings... he couldn't risk this friendship or the possibility of having a broken heart again. He'd just wait for this phase to pass...

Grim noticed that Allen was suddenly spending even more time with Deuce and that the two also got progressively touchy. He confronted Allen with something along the lines of "Why're ya spending SO much time with him?! Do you have a crush on him or somethin'? Myahaha!". Shit, Allen thought to himself. His cat knew.

Vil knew, too. So did Rook. So did Jamil, Kalim, Ace, Epel and even the ghosts! The only ones who somehow didn't know about each other's feelings were Allen and Deuce...

Allen tried his best to deny the way he felt whenever Deuce would flash him a smile during practice performances. Deuce, on the contrary, would melt internally at every proud grin Allen gave him...

The fact that Deuce was now a better singer allowed him to approach one of Allen's favorite impulsiveness control methods with more confidence: singing and rapping out one's feelings and frustration.

Additionally, Allen admired the fact that Deuce was now trying his hand at ballet in order to overcome the last few traces of his old internalized toxic masculinity. Allen, struggling with some toxic masculinity himself and having been ashamed of his curves and rather androgynous appearance all his life, saw this as an inspiration to try his hand at more feminine fashion. He had wanted to do this for a long time, but held back out of fear of being seen as even less of a man because of it... and now here Allen was, wearing more feminine clothing for the first time and making Deuce fanboy even harder than usual.

Deuce was not the only one fanboying, though. During the entire VDC performance, Allen was cheering like a madman and couldn't keep his eyes off Deuce. So what if they had Vil, Epel and Jamil? To Allen, Deuce was the star of the show.

When Deuce finally discovered his Unique Magic, Allen was not only incredibly proud and happy for the Heartslabyul student, but was also reminded of an old character he had created as a younger teenager who had had the exact same skill as Deuce. Was this a sign...? ...nah, he must've been delusional.

BOOK 6:

During the invasion, Deuce immediately jumped in front of Allen in order to protect him, but got hit himself instead. When he got injured and passed out as a result, Allen absolutely panicked. He wasn't even really concerned about how the dorm was being damaged — only Deuce's wellbeing was on Allen's mind. Additionally, he felt overwhelming guilt that this had only happened because Deuce had protected HIM...

Instead of going to S.T.Y.X., Allen decided to stay at NRC in order to take care of Deuce. He spent most of his time in the infirmary, sitting by Deuce's bed and waiting for him to wake up. Why was he doing this?! Out of guilt only? Certainly not... Was he crazy?! Deuce was just a friend... just a friend... just a friend who he loved a lot and had undeniable feelings for. No matter how much Allen tried to fall out of love, it was impossible. Deuce had given him so much and it was the most Allen had ever been cared for...

When Deuce finally woke up, Allen immediately pulled him into a relieved, loving lung-crushing hug and didn't want to ever let go. Deuce felt as if he was about to pass out again due to the happiness caused by Allen cherishing him so much.

Deuce and Allen kept doing their usual activities — hearing each other out, helping each other, spending fun time together — while hoping for Grim and the housewardens to finally return.

Considering how often Deuce stayed at Ramshackle anyway, him and Allen decided that he could simply leave some of his belongings from the VDC preparations at the dorm. This only prompted Deuce to visit Ramshackle and sleep over even more...

Every night before going to bed, Deuce wrote about Allen into a little diary. Hell forbid Ace found it, but at least it allowed Deuce to openly express his feelings without being judged or teased. As he kept reading through the words he had written already over and over again, Deuce realized even more just how much Allen had helped him with various highly important things over the past 5-6 months of knowing each other... and that's when he decided to buy the giant Shiba plushie Allen had recently mentioned as a thank-you gift. Sure, he had already occasionally gifted Allen stuffed animals before, but maybe this huge Shiba would convey his gratitude and crush even more...

Needless to say, Allen was blown away by the gift and pretty much jumped Deuce out of joy. He had wanted this Shiba plushie for weeks now, and receiving it as a surprise gift from his crush was an indescribable feeling. However, Allen strictly viewed it as a platonic thank-you gesture and didn't (want to) get the hint. After all, why would Deuce be pining after him...?

Near the end of Book 6 [= during the time when the game's canon Yuu is still at S.T.Y.X.], Deuce suddenly received a call accusing him of highly offensive vandalism in his hometown. Both Allen and Deuce were absolutely furious at this unreasonable accusation, and it was a no-brainer for Allen to prove Deuce innocent. While Deuce broke down and complained about never being able to escape his past no matter how much he tried, Allen not only encouraged him and told him that he had become a much better person, but was also determined and already had a plan. Having excellent manipulation skills and a way with words, Allen got Crowley to give him access to all private cameras around the school to prove that Deuce had been at NRC the entire time and couldn't possibly have been the culprit. He mailed the recordings to the police station in Deuce's hometown, managing to prove that the Heartslabyul student was innocent. Allen also suspected that the person blaming the vandalism on Deuce was likely the culprit or one of their friends, encouraging the police to continue their investigation with them. Deuce, on the other hand, couldn't have been more grateful that Allen had successfully cleared his name and stood up for him like that. A week later, a call informed the two boys that one of Deuce's former friends had admitted to the crime and had tried to blame it on Deuce out of anger that he had distanced himself from them. Hearing how his old "friend" had betrayed Deuce only made him cherish his current friendships and especially the relationship he had with Allen even more...

BOOK 7:

[I haven't played Book 7 yet, so I'll either update this section later or share it in a separate post! Until then, we're assuming that they realized just how much they loved each other even more.]

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That's everything for now! The final part of their relationship timeline (post book 7), including when they FINALLY get together, will be in my next Allen x Deuce introduction post!

However, my next overall post is likely going to be the announcement for my ship art/writing event 👀

Thank you for the support on my previous Allen x Deuce posts! It means ridiculously much to me 🥹🥹🥹

[signanothername]

Saw your animatic of NIGHTMARE HAS FALLEN, peak comedy right there

also, your art of Killer squshing Nightmare's cheeks was awesome, but also prompted my brain to question "How would Killer interact with Passive?"

On one hand, small child, like Chara, but wow this is really cute and innocent, why the fuck is it considered evil? On the other hand, if he knew it was Nightmare...actually, idk, Killer is pretty smart, so I'm not entirely sure how it would play out

Hahaha thank you!!

Ooooh i love this question

Ok so I feel like it depends on what circumstances they meet, but let’s go with “Killer never saw Passive before and it’s the very first time they meet”

I don’t think the fact Passive being a child would deter Killer at all, cause Passive differs greatly in temperament and character from Chara, I feel like Passive might actually reminds him of Frisk actually (and that on its own opens a whole pack of problems)

But the thing is, just as you said, Killer’s smart, I believe he’ll figure out it’s Nightmare pretty quickly, considering how observant Killer is and how Nightmare’s appearance gives it away

I mean, a child that is basically a copy paste of Dream only has the opposite colors, has a golden crown of his own with a crescent on it?? And is glued to his lil book? Yeah that’s definitely Nightmare, hell his lil belt has “NM” on it, like Killer would have to be an absolute idiot to not figure it out, with one look Killer would immediately know it’s Nightmare, it wouldn’t take any time at all

Now to talk about how they’d interact

Let’s imagine they’re in Dreamtale before it got destroyed

Important thing to think about first and foremost, is whether Dream would be present with Nightmare when they meet or not

For the sake of this ask we’re going to assume Dream has gone to visit the village, so it’s only Nightmare sitting with the tree by himself

I feel like it’s important to keep in mind that this isn’t a one way interaction, it’s not just Killer’s reaction to Nightmare, it’s also Nightmare’s reaction to Killer

Nightmare already has a bad experience with strangers, and Killer isn’t the most friendly looking, so i feel like their interaction is gonna go a bit poorly actually, cause Nightmare would assume this stranger is either A-here to hurt him, or B- here for the golden apples he’s guarding, both not good things

Killer on the other hand would honestly just be curious about Nightmare at first, cause it’s not every day you get to see the king of negativity and darkness, one of the most powerful beings, as a mere helpless and defenseless child, it’d definitely make Killer wonder how the hell was this tiny little creature entrusted to guard something that keeps emotional balance in the Multiverse (not that it truly matters to him, not when he can’t feel anything himself right?)

So Nightmare would be extremely wary and even a bit frightened of Killer while Killer would just stare through Nightmare for a few minutes, but here comes the interesting question…

At what timeline does their meeting occur?? Is it in which Killer is still under Nightmare’s command, or is it after Killer was saved by Color, cause depending on it i feel like Killer’s reaction can differ

If Killer was still under Nightmare, is he in a trigger happy mood or is he feeling chill enough to just not feel like killing anyone, would Killer take this as an opportunity to hurt Nightmare back, or would he not attack him at all? I feel like the latter’s more plausible, cause Killer is usually chill actually until triggered, pushed, or commanded to, plus if it’s Nightmare then he’s not very interested to attack him…. physically at least (tormenting the child mentally seems a bit fun, but he’d file that in his brain for later)

I can see Killer actually taking interest in the apples, I mean they’re literally the twins’ souls… in the future at least, and Nightmare would definitely be wary but REALLY surprised to know Killer isn’t just interested in the golden apples, but his own black apples too, cause no one ever liked his black apples, everyone thought they were evil so why would this stranger not think the same?

I feel like Nightmare while still extremely wary wouldn’t be able to stop the child wonder in his heart and warm feeling blossoming in his little chest at the idea someone actually being ok with the black apples, i can see him take one of his black apples to killer to offer him, i mean no one ever wants to be near his black apples so maybe he finally met a monster who would accept him and his apples?

And Killer is interested yes, but not for the reasons little Nightmare’s thinking about

So you’d better believe Killer would accept the offer, he actually gets to take a closer look at what’s supposed to be Nightmare’s soul in the future? Oh how fun tormenting future Nightmare and Dream would be when he understands how they work

I feel like the apple’s aura wouldn’t have much effect on him except for maybe his soul wavering a bit as it responds to the negativity it’s always been subjected to, a familiar conditioning if you will, and Nightmare would get curious enough to ask about why Killer seems unaffected, only for Killer to tell Nightmare that he can’t really feel anything, and Nightmare just not comprehending that fact, he’d insist that everyone has feelings, and that the balance of those positive and negative emotions is what the tree is for, Killer can’t just not feel anything, that everyone is affected by the apples’ aura, only for Killer to tell Nightmare that he’s a “special case” and would take a lot more than just aura to make him feel anything (cough like tentacles of pure agonizing negativity and the power of 999 black apples taking ahold of the very culmination of his being cough, i can imagine Killer smiling a creepy knowing smile as he looks at Nightmare, little Night doesn’t know what that look means, but he doesn’t like it, he feels like he’s missing so much context)

I can see Killer simply asking question after question about the apples to understand how they work, especially the black apples, and little Nightmare answering only some of them, because a child or not, Nightmare’s smart, he’s not to give info that could give this stranger an opportunity to do as he pleases to the apples, Killer absolutely notices Nightmare’s wariness and his very careful attitude, and Killer thinks Nightmare’s smart for it

Then again that’s the child that’s going to grow to become a tyrant so it’s to be expected that he’d be clever (it’s interesting to see how Nightmare used to be at least)

Killer would definitely try to find a way out after he’s gotten the info he needs (or as much as little Nightmare was willing to provide) and he holds no illusion that threatening little Nightmare would get him to talk, cause if he knows Nightmare well enough it’ll only do the opposite and little Nightmare will not provide anything more, and so it’s time to go cause he holds no deluded attachment to this place or little Nightmare

And I can see Nightmare actually asking Killer what his name is, after all they’ve been talking but they haven’t introduced themselves, that Nightmare has never seen him around here before, and I can see this to be the moment Killer takes the opportunity to be a bit of a bitch and say some bullshit about he’s actually from a different time and how his name indicates his job only to introduce himself as “Killer” and to immediately go “and you’re Nightmare, the king of negativity, tyrant lord of darkness and nightmares” (Killer’s ironically a lot like Corrupted Nightmare in finding joy in the mental anguish of people more so than physical anguish)

Nightmare doesn’t know what “Killer” is talking about, but it sends a shiver down his spine and he’s going to lie if he said he wasn’t terrified not only of the thought of a murderer from a different time knowing who he is, but of the implication of Killer’s comment about his possible future :)

[thefirstknife]

did i miss something today re: the resolution of *why* saint thought he was a copy/the wrong saint, besides being told so? and the one memory of his that is incongruous with osiris's recollection? that haunts me still

I'm also not entirely sure. I think he was just being told so, possibly also shown (while he was yoked). Maya is absolutely using the Vex network and the Vex themselves to scour the timelines. Here's some lines post-story that I keep having to pillage of my friends because I'm not getting them:

Ikora:

Osiris:

Ikora:

Osiris:

Ikora:

Osiris:

I don't think it's stated in exact words, but Saint was definitely getting some information from other Saints that exist across the timelines, including his own dead body. And I think it's deliberately being kept this way because at the end they went for "it doesn't matter." Saint makes that conclusion himself; all Saints are Saint, they are all real.

This whole thing with the radiolaria is very interesting because I've had some similar lines last week from Osiris talking about how radiolaria is used to simulate and how the Vex need a lot of it to actually do it. It's also interesting to see that Osiris mentioned the Sundial again, in a way that makes me feel like he did not use radiolaria the same way to access other timelines. He says that he instead did it at his personal risk, but that radiolaria would reduce it. Intriguing.

Also interesting lines:

Saint:

Osiris:

Saint:

Osiris:

There's definitely extra memories, but not all of them are diverging, as we know from the week 1 radio. Only some appeared to be different, and only after the yoke, so I don't think it's quite clear how this diverging happened and how Saint became so upset over it; I believe that the yoke automatically gave him these glimpses into his other selves and they essentially scrambled his brain. Maya has control over radiolaria and the timelines in the network so she could've shown him whatever she wanted.

And now he realised that it doesn't really matter and he gets to have double memories of being with Osiris. I think it's deliberate that it's not directly stated or distinguished which Saint is the "original" or "real" because the point is that they all are.

That's at least what makes the most sense to me! There could be other ways of looking at it, but I don't think they would've otherwise given us two very distinct and important points with the radio messages like they did. It remains very clear that when the story started, Saint and Osiris had matching memories and after the yoke Saint suddenly started panicking and remembering things differently. I think Maya exposed him to other timelines and that screwed it all up, making him unsure which of those are the ones that were tied to him as he is here, and which ones were pulled from some other timeline.

Either way, the point is that it doesn't really matter too much. Every Saint is a real Saint. I'll drop a few more lines that I got yesterday which are really good:

[pencileraser1]

things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):

whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.

hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!

sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.

i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.

people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene

for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though

unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.

the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel

[goingbuggy]

Good morrow my shuggy liege!

I was pondering if I should or shouldn’t ask but I hope it will not be too much bother to answer

It’s about one of your metas about the love and sacrifice Beautifully written I must say but reading through it again made me wondering how does buggy fall into the sacrifice themes of one piece?

It pains me to admit that once I’ve read 1082 I had many different feelings and one of them thought of buggy sacrifice as quite selfish in a way? Don’t get me wrong I’m sure came from him believing in shanks and the love he had for the boy! It just it felt in a way like he was burdening shanks with his own dreams

I’m happy he finally got the courage to follow his own path It’s beautiful and inspiring I just wonder if my interpretation is coming from anxiety or is actually true? Thank you and I’m sorry to sending this on anon

Hello, anon! Thank you for your kind words about my metas. Before I answer your question about where Buggy might fit into the wider themes of One Piece -- like sacrifice -- I think I should address your interpretation of 1082's events and compare them with mine.

I can understand why someone might conclude that Buggy's faith in Shanks is a burden of sorts, and ultimately selfish; after all, Shanks never asked for the weight of Buggy's expectations, and you could argue that Buggy's plan was to live out his dreams vicariously through Shanks. However, I think that there are some key points which entirely re-frame the situation.

Buggy didn't actually tell Shanks about what he did.

This isn't explicitly confirmed by the manga, but based on 1082's events and Shanks/Buggy's relationship timeline going forward, I can definitely make a strong case for their miscommunication in this regard.

Although we have Buggy's narration in 1082 to guide us through his flashback and enlighten us with his true feelings about Shanks, remember -- it's an internal monologue. The only thing Shanks knows is what Buggy tells him, and what Buggy tells him is not the full story. Look at this series of panels to see what I mean.

We have a very important contrast here -- Buggy's thoughts ("You're not the next generation's king?! I misjudged you, Shanks!" / "Don't you care about following in Captain Roger's footsteps?!"), versus what he actually says. ("You coward!" / "It's your fault I lost that treasure map!")

In classic Buggy fashion, we see him deflect from the truth; instead of explaining how much he believed in Shanks' potential, he brings up a petty grudge and insults Shanks out of disappointment, hurt, and anger/frustration. Nowhere do we see Buggy explicitly tell Shanks what/why he gave up. And this miscommunication is not only the heart of Buggy's sacrifice, but the exact reason why they split in the first place: Shanks did not tell Buggy what made him change his mind about going to Laughtale, and Buggy did not tell Shanks about his decision/dream.

I think this is key to understanding the way they navigate their interactions later down the line, in Marineford. Remember: Shanks believes that they split due to the whole map ordeal, which is not only a relatively lighthearted grudge to hold, but also very confusing from Shanks' perspective.

I love the curt answer he gives here, because it really reflects Shanks' limited understanding of what actually transpired between them that fateful day at Loguetown. Thus, it's also understandable why Shanks acts the way he does at Marineford. I highly doubt Shanks would be so casual if he knew Buggy's real reasons for parting ways. Hell, their split was so important to Shanks that he still remembers Buggy's gripe about the map 20+ years later -- and even uses the promise of one to draw Buggy back into rehashing things between them. (The anime expands on Shanks' confusion/limited understanding even more, but because we're dealing with the manga only, I'm not going to reference those added scenes.)

This interaction can seem quite confusing, but place it in the wider context I've just proposed, and it makes a lot more sense. Something fundamental has permanently shifted between them, but Shanks does not understand the gravity -- nor the real reason -- behind that change. And yet again, Buggy perpetuates this cycle of miscommunication by not telling him.

So, now that I've argued why I believe Buggy didn't tell Shanks about his true dream/decision to give up on said dream, why is it so important?

Well, this leads to my second point.

2. Buggy is a character primarily motivated by greed.

This statement does not need to be argued; it's as explicit as can be, because it has been well-established by Oda. In fact, it's very likely to be what people remember best about Buggy's character, in the midst of the massive narrative that One Piece has become. (I will touch upon this later, because this is exactly why I view Buggy's sacrifice as so impactful to the reader.)

Now, my last point:

3. Buggy is terrible at hiding his true intentions.

Buggy usually makes it quite obvious what he's hiding through blatant lies which hint to the truth, or even a direct slip of the tongue, like in Impel Down. This is partially for the sake of comedy/divulging necessary information to readers, but it's also a genuine aspect of his character which reinforces the comedy. Buggy's intentions are comically apparent to readers, so it's ridiculous to see his followers fall for his schemes.

These three points, in tandem, are exactly what makes 1082's reveal so impactful. Oda uproots everything we thought we knew about Buggy's character in order to give us the missing puzzle piece -- the reason why he is the way he is. This exact decision.

Buggy is a character motivated by greed, but he gave up on his dream, a pillar of freedom and existence in the One Piece world. He is self-absorbed, and yet he de-centered himself from the narrative. And for who, of all people? Shanks, the very man he claimed to despise in his first introduction. Are you starting to see the groundwork Oda's laying down here?

Buggy is notoriously bad at hiding the truth when he lies, and yet readers are blindsided by this reveal, over a thousand chapters after his first appearance. He kept it a secret, not just from Shanks, but from us. 1082 subverted our expectations and further developed Buggy's character in the process. It's a great display of what I love most about Oda's writing.

Before 1082, it would be difficult to claim where Buggy lies in One Piece's themes of sacrifice or dreams. But post-1082, it's a lot clearer. Oda has shown us that Shanks is just as important to Buggy as Buggy is to Shanks, and he's done it in the most effective way for a greedy character: by showing us that even Buggy is capable of sacrifice, when it's for someone he cares about. And what did he give up? His dream -- one of the most important things people have in One Piece.

Sure, it's possible to dismiss Buggy's decision as selfish, but remember: he didn't tell Shanks. He didn't expect anything in return. In a way, he has actually spared Shanks from feeling burdened; Shanks doesn't know the truth, and so he has no opportunity to feel guilt or responsibility for Buggy's decision. For a character like Shanks, who is defined by responsibility, this is also massively significant. Buggy's choice is not Shanks' fault, and by deflecting to trivial matters like the map, Buggy has -- intentionally or not -- lifted a possible weight from Shanks' shoulders. Shanks still feels the loss of their relationship, but instead of potential guilt, there is confusion and miscommunication.

So, no, I don't view Buggy's sacrifice as selfish. He did what he did because he truly believed in Shanks. He was willing to let Shanks become king and live out his dream, all without burdening Shanks with the truth. It's the antithesis of everything we've known about Buggy up until this point -- a decision without his greed, egomania, and overt schemes at the forefront. And if that's not a selfless act from Buggy, then I don't know what is.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Ello'. I'm looking for a game that can simulate city living v. well, with the focus on the city itself while still leaving room for like, adventure stories and such. Thank you, and I hope you have a good evening- thanks for all you do.

Theme: City Living.

Hello, I don't have much to add onto this one so let's just get to it!

A City of Shining Stars, by ehronlime.

This is a game about a City. It’s also a game about superheroes and villains and extraordinary people dealing with dangers no normal human could face on their own. At its heart though, it’s about a City. And the thing to remember about a City, is that more than its geography or its history, what really makes a City is its people.

If you want a game that builds a city for a superhero setting, then you might want to check out A City of Shining Stars. This game is a gm-less, card-based came that primarily resolves around a deck of cards to provide questions that your group will have to answer every turn, including questions about residents, locations, and social and cultural landscapes. I think that if you like games like The Quiet Year, this game is definitely in your wheelhouse.

Polis, by Black Armada Games.

Here is a settlement. It is unique and filled with potential. And from this settlement you are going to grow a city.

This is a game about the rise and evolution of a city. You will start with a simple map of a settlement, with its surrounding terrain and a some starting details. Over time you spark its growth, and watch it grow and change over time into a full-fledged city. You will populate it with vibrant cultures, build beautiful buildings and neighbourhoods. You will shape your city with festivals and monuments, wars and revolutions, bounties and catastrophes. With each change, the city will evolve and respond until you have something truly unique.

Polis has a number of elements that you’ll be filling out and keeping track of as you play. This includes the Cast (social groups of NPCs), the Timeline (the list of events that play out), the Almanac (a series of conditions that may affect the city), and the Map (the geography of the city, likely drawn as you play).

I don’t own this game so I’m not sure what the gameplay looks like, but Black Armada Games has a number of games that really hit it out of the park, so I expect Polis to be just as hard-hitting and satisfying to play.

City Planning Department, by Kaelan DM.

By opening this binder, scroll or digital thought-form you have taken the first crucial step to planning your next city. Working for the City Planning Department is at once a deeply rewarding and gruesomely punishing task. But with the help of this simple guide, in no time you'll know all the ins and outs to making a place whose inhabitants can thrive.

Now, a city is only a city because of the order imposed on it by whoever is in charge. You, the city council, are those people. Were you elected? Appointed? Summoned? Who cares? You're here now and you're ready to do some local government!

A game about city management and its problems, City Planning Department evolves around a map that each player takes turns adding to - or at least, attempting to add to. On your turn, you will have a chance to propose a new addition to the city. However, other players can dispute your addition, which, if there is enough agreement, can waste your entire turn. On the other hand, if the dispute is not seconded, then the person who brought up the dispute loses their right to dispute in any future turns. Each player also has a role on the council; either chaotic, neutral or orderly. These roles can inform your character goals, and change the trajectory of the city as a result. I think this game can really replicate the difficulty and frustration of attempting to get something done in a bureaucratic setting.

City Planning Department is also setting agnostic, so if you want to run a cyberpunk city or a faerie council, you can do both of these things!

They Call This The City, by HB.

There is no one way to see a city. In fact, the multidimensional and complex nature of cities has made the idea of the City an eternally fascinating subject of art, science and engineering alike. A city definitionally contains literal and metaphorical multitudes, a hyperobject that, as it happens, also makes for a hell of a game if approached playfully.

This is the aim of They Call This The City, a GMless, character-free game for one or more players about fooling around with graphs.

This is the first time I’ve seen a game that uses graphs and charts as a central game mechanic for play, and I think it could be very educational in teaching people both how to read data and how to chart it. As you play, you will create graphs to represent different aspects of the city, such as how many of a certain feature there are, who has access to certain resources, what average occupations look like, etc. There’s also optional info-graphics that you can use to illustrate inequalities in the city, and the ways the civic infrastructure disenfranchise some of your residents. Finally, there’s a stage at which the players will have to declare one of the graphs to be incorrect, and then describe how it doesn’t accurately portray information.

Overall I think this game is very unique and can work as both a city-building tool as well as an educational experience to talk about how we portray information.

Together in the Ancient City, by Takuma Okada

A tabletop roleplaying game about exploring the many districts of a vast and ancient city. Uses a standard 52 card deck and a six-sided die. For 2 players.

This game is a duet enhancement of the game Alone in the Ancient City.

Together in the Ancient City is a great way to play a city-building game as only two players. Each player will take up a specific role every time you visit a new district, but you can switch between the roles when you move on. You use a d6 and a pack of playing cards to generate new districts, but I think you still get to determine details about each district you visit.

Overall, I think this game feels a bit like you are a pair of tourists exploring a city together, so if you want something lighthearted and exploratory, you might like Together in the Ancient City.

the city begins to exist, by kay w.

the city begins to exist is a two person city building conversation. In this game, two players build a city together by asking and answering questions, switching roles from the person asking questions to the person answering them as you go. Each person will, in each of these roles, help build and expand the idea of a city based around a single theme.

This game can take a variable amount of time, as it ends when the players feel ready to end it. It could take as little as an hour. It could take several hours, or be extended across several play sessions. It is suited for in person or digital play, as players either pass a notebook back and forth or work together in a collaborative document like Google Docs.

Using a tarot deck and a d4, the city begins to exist allows two players to switch between two roles through every turn, with themes and questions prompted using different tarot cards. The game also comes with a Google Docs template, so I have a feeling that as long as you have a way to share a tarot deck, you should also be able to play this game online!

Foretold: The Mayor of Elphame, by Groundhoggoth.

Every big city has districts with their own character, where the immigrant population settled and made a place like home. Whether it’s Chinatown, Little Italy, the French Quarter or somewhere else, it’s a little piece of here that feels like there.

Elphame is something like that, a place where fairytale beings and their descendants have settled, making a home for themselves in the world of mortals. Their magic is weak or atrophied, but they still carry themselves with pride and wear their differences like medals. Times are changing though, as the city grows and prospers on all sides, providing new and unfamiliar opportunities to the younger generation. The community looks for guidance in these troubled times; will you be the one to take the wheel and steer Elphame safely into the future?

This game zoomed in on one neighbourhood of a city, a neighbourhood full of fantastical characters. The Mayor of Elphame revolves around prompts drawn randomly and answered, with each answer meant to represent a story about something that happened in the neighbourhood. Players can choose to leave threads hanging or answer only part of the question if they want to give other players a thread to pick up later in the game.

If you want you might even be able to play this game multiple times, building a different neighbourhood each time!

Also For Your Consideration...

A City Upon A Hill, by Hunter J Allen.

I’m sorry did you say street magic, by Caro Ascercion.

A Traveller in the City, by Palleon Press.

Aurora, by World Champ Game Co.

Station: A Game of City Building, by Tin Star Games.

Explorers of the Forever City, by Sam Robson.

My Town-Builders Recommendation Post.

My Map-Making Recommendation Post

[141trash]

rating: sfw (brief mentions of sex, but no graphic anything)

Captain John Price x Reader

AN: Somehow this ended up with very little actual Price in it, but I have plans and he will be more prominent. I just have word vomit rn and needed to get everything down

imagine having a one time fling with Price after your husband leaves you for another one because you just can't seem to get pregnant and he wants a family.

It was a good romp, he was a bit gruff, but was super sweet afterwards with the aftercare. he even stayed to buy you breakfast the next morning. Months later you've been focused on yourself, getting your life together and learning what it means to move on.

Only you've been feeling rather ill the last couple days. And then you remember you're late. Which isn't entirely unusual, sometimes you miss a period when you're stressed and the last couple months finding your feet have been stressful. Still you go to the doctors and its there you remember your night with Price, definitely can't remember if he used a condom or not, and you know you hadn't been on birth control since previously you'd been trying for a baby.

Oops you're pregnant.

The timeline fits that it's his and not your now ex-husband's and part of you is instantly hugely relieved about that.

You leave the doctor's office in a bit of a daze. It doesn't sink in until you're stumbling your way into the cafe you own/manage and you promptly dissolve into a fit of tears in the backroom, much to your teeny bopper part timer's utter horror.

Pregnant. You're fucking pregnant. You're elated, over the moon because you had always wanted kids. (yeah adoption's a thing, but in some places its really hard to adopt if you're single and you weren't ready for another relationship after the last trainwreck). You're also fucking terrified because holy shit you have no plan. Nothing is ready. You live in a tiny flat in the city with one bedroom because why would you need more than that?

Your friend appears in the back room as your mind is going a million miles a minute, turns out your part timer had panicked and called her. You breakdown again in her arms and tell her the news. She reminds you that you're not alone even though you're not in a relationship and that you will have all the support that you need.

With her help you start to prepare for the baby. Things move quickly, you're so busy getting things ready, searching for a larger flat, buying things, filling your head with every single bit of parenting knowledge you can get your head on. All your regular customers say that you're glowing, they've never seen you happier.

You've recorded every little thing since finding out you were pregnant. kept print outs of every scan. More than once you find yourself staring out the window, guiltily wondering about whether or not Price would have wanted to know. Not that you have any way of contacting him. You knew he was military, from the dog tags he'd had hanging around his neck, but not much more.

The first time you feel the baby kicking is when you're in the middle of a shift. Its the slow time of day so you're cleaning up the tables when you gasp suddenly. The girl behind the counter is by your side in an instant, babbling questions making sure you're okay. She's sweet and like your friend has been beside you since you found out.

"I'm fine Cally. The baby kicked." you announce, beaming brightly. She squeals and begs to be allowed to feel next time the baby kicks. Before you can do more the bell above the door dings and you both automatically turn, your customer service smiles back on. Only.

"John?" Your mouth drops open in surprise. Standing there looking oddly sheepish is the man you hadn't thought you'd ever see again. The man whose baby was currently kicking as if demanding your attention.

His eyes sweep over you appreciatively, though when he sees your obvious pregnancy he freezes. The shock of seeing him makes your legs weak. Cally lets out a panicked yelp when you knees buckle, but he's already darting forward, catching your arms gently and helping you to a seat.

"Careful there sweetheart." he says and god does that warm your chest. You remember the last time you heard him say that, it had been when you'd bumped into him in the bar.

"What are you doing here?" you ask breathlessly as Cally scurries off to get you a drink and he glances at you for permission before pulling a chair up next to you.

"Remembered you talking about your dream of opening a café. When i got back to town I spotted the name nd wondered if it was just a coincidence." he tells you, but you can see his eyes keep drifting towards your stomach. He's obviously trying to figure out if its his. But it takes a moment for you to respond because you can't believe that he remembered that. It'd been an offhanded comment you'd made while the two of you had been enjoying late night takeout before going at it another round.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you put a hand over his, biting your lip, "Listen. I. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything. I would have told you sooner only I didn't have any way to contact you."

"It's mine." he says for you. You nod, cursing inwardly when tears start to sting your eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Like I said. I'm doing fine. I don't expect anything from you. I've got a plan. I'm looking for bigger flats."

He stares at you in silence, expression unreadable. You worry for a minute about what he's going to say. You've been prone to overthinking everything since becoming pregnant and now suddenly having the father of your child reappearing in your life. It's a lot.

John squeezes your hand gently halting the panic as you look back up at him.

"I would very much like to be able to meet the kid when they get here. If you'd let me." he tells you hesitantly, "Being in the Military I don't know how often I'd be able to be around, but if you let me I'd like to be in their life."

All of your emotions flood you like a tidal wave at his confession. You burst into tears, letting him pull you into a firm, but careful hug.

"Yes. Of course. I just didn't want you to feel like I was pressuring you. You have every right to know them too." You promise tearfully, smiling at him as he thumbs the tears from your cheeks.

He insists on exchanging numbers so he can contact you and in case you need anything. He won't always be able to answer, but he promises to do his best. Then he bashfully asks if you'll tell him about what's happened so far. Shyly you tell him you've written the entire experience and kept the scans.

He eventually leaves you to get back to work, but the copy of the ultrasound photos you kept in your wallet is tucked into his jacket pocket and he promised to meet you at your flat for dinner and to collect your pregnancy journal so he can catch up on everything.

[dearanakin]

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode VIII

Summary: Anakin gets dragged into a mission with Poe Dameron, while something unexpected happens at the Jedi Temple, where you and the others face the incoming threat. (don't forget I use characters from different timelines)

Warnings: mentions of blood, vulgar language

Word count: 3.2k

previous chapter | read on Wattpad

--

Anakin:

I was on a mission with freaking Poe Dameron. I would like to think I haven't lowered my standards when it comes to the assignments I usually do, because this one sure fucking isn't it. But I was literally dragged to do this with him, it wasn't the first time either, so I know what he was on about. I didn't have a choice matter-of-factly, because I refused too many times the past two days, but he just made me come with him saying he needed my assistance. He also made me wear a stupid helmet, but I reassured my decision and disagreed. 

He works with the fucking Resistance, what does he need me for? He flies a T-70 X-wing starfighter, which is high key superior to my Eta-2 Actis-class. He knows many attack techniques, and he also has an entire group with him flying around. 

Poe was using his comlink to communicate with his partners as we reached closer to find the First Order's headquarters. It reminded me badly of the Emperor, but I tried to suck up the feeling of rage inside of me. It's been years already, what is done is done. 

While the man next to me focused on his own mission, I thought back to two days ago, when I met (Y/N) in the coffee room. I honestly didn't expect to meet anyone there, hence why I decided to get a drink in the middle of the night. It caught me off guard seeing her after what had happened the last time we were together, which made me feel completely flimsy being close to her. 

And it pissed me off that she thought it would be a good idea to bring his lightsaber up after everything he had done before he left me behind. I didn't regret breaking that stupid piece of shit of grip, I should've done that the first time I came across it when she had it in her hands. It drives me insane the way she just trusts everyone she meets, without even realizing how much they can harm people. And worse than that, trusting Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi. 

I can't trust anyone after everything I've been through, after I've been left behind from my former Master. Most importantly, I trusted Palpatine's words that he could help me save Padmé, and he betrayed me as well. My issues all lie around the ones I devoted my life to. 

Dameron snaps me out of my distraction when he finally speaks up to me, handing me a blaster gun. I rolled my eyes, thinking he definitely believes I would need a blaster gun when I have my lightsaber. 

"We're moving forward to attack them, assault their army and gather intel" He removes his helmet, which has features of the Resistance's symbol mixed with a red and black design. 

"Jesus, Dameron. You guys know what you're dealing with, right?" I try to stand on my ground and not stick my nose where it wasn't my issue. Obviously, my body was probably going to boil from all the control I'm holding back. 

"Yes, Sherlock? We've been here before, but we couldn't find them" Poe moves his head to the sides, looking for a hidden place to land, which was pretty nonexistent. 

Why the fuck did he call me Sherlock?

"You couldn't find them" I laughed in disbelief. He truly believes it's that easy to fight against the First Order. "Can you imagine what they're capable of if they find us first?"

He seemed to ponder for a moment, but gave me a reassuring smirk before unbuckling his belt. I did nothing but huff in annoyance over his shitty idea. I was going to help him and his trope, but only because he made me come, and I owe him as well. 

"I've led attacks and been to many before, and they were all terrible people. This is no different" Poe tried to convince me he would make it out of here. Again, my trust issues aren't really helping me here. 

"Yeah, but they weren't Snoke" I muttered and he shot his head back at me quickly, surprised with my words "I can sense the motherfucker from miles" 

We stay glancing at each other for what feels like several minutes, only then he took in what was really happening and how much he was willing to risk himself and his group in a suicide mission. Because that's what it really is when it comes to Snoke. The artificial humanoid was as powerful as Palpatine. 

"You're telling me you made me bring you into this shit show and didn't tell me who we're dealing with?" He raised his voice, almost squeaking with desperation, and I furrowed my brows. 

I shake my head, not exactly catching on what he's saying. "You didn't fucking know we were literally walking into death?"

"I thought we were fighting off Stormtroopers?"

He's really unbelievable. If I wasn't here, he would be dead by now. Poe would've been sliced into a million pieces and would've taken his entire group down with him. 

"Poe! For God's sake, do you ever think before you go on these missions?" I can't even begin to tell how much I'm frustrated with him and his lack of self consciousness. "This is the fucking Supremacy headquarters, it's literally his lair!"

He became desperate and started to communicate through his comlink, letting the others know what we were really getting ourselves into. I swear to God this is why I don't trust people at all. I should've known better than to just follow Poe into the assignments he finds. This is beyond crazy of him. 

I decided to take over the yoke of his ship and maneuver it until we start to lift off the ground, swinging it. The moment we started to leave, the stormtroopers finally made their appearance and started shooting at us. 

It was really hard to find the right setting for the attack, but I managed to hit the defense laser cannon, trying to blast them and take them down. Poe was in a mix of trying to warn everyone, while he shoved my hands off the yoke. 

"You're gonna get us fucking killed!" He screamed before taking control and flying up, far enough to hit the men on the ground.

"You're the one to talk!" I yelled back at him, looking out the window to realize his teammates were still taking off and struggling to fight back. My senses heightened when I felt something really disturbing ring in my head. 

At first, it was confusing because it came all at once. The high-pitched noise started to pound in my head and when I looked back at the headquarters, I noticed Snoke coming out of the Supremacy, walking slowly to the edge of the place. He was staring at us, but didn't move a finger. 

"Pull the lightspeed gear!" I shouted at Poe, startling him. He looked at me and creased his brows. "Do it now!"

He didn't question my demand, pulling the gear immediately and we crossed the galaxy in a matter of seconds. He looked over his shoulder to get a glance behind us, to see if his teammates were right after us. I unknowingly heaved out a sigh, listening to Dameron do the same next to me when we noticed their ships behind us. 

Still, the vertigo and the ringing in my head hit back, and I looked over the transceiver on his  control panel. There was a hissing noise and a faint voice on the other side, speaking words we couldn't understand. He managed to spin a few buttons, trying to tune it in so it became clear. 

"Code nine thirteen! Nine, one three!" The other voice spoke, and we both looked at each other at the same time. It's an emergency code. 

Was that Cal Kestis? My blood ran cold, and I felt a shiver down my spine, and my limbs became numb. I watched as Poe took the lead and gripped the transceiver speaker and spoke to him, I was utterly shocked and couldn't say a word. I started to zone out, thinking about Luke and our groups of people. Even (Y/N) came into my mind. 

"It's the General Grievous' army! We are under attack! Where the hell are you guys?" His voice came rather desperate, like he couldn't fathom what was really happening. 

"We're coming, landing is in a few seconds!" Poe sped up and quickly we were near the Temple. 

"Luke, is he okay? How bad is it?" I was still under a daze, my eyes roaming around the place looking for something dreadful happening down there.I start to unbuckle myself as soon as Poe lands the ship, barely waiting for him to open the doors and I immediately sprint off the hallway of the Temple looking for my son.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Cal hitting his lightsaber incessantly against the army of droids, his face covered in dried blood. He shot me a knowing look when I came over to where he was and assisted him with my weapon.

"Where is Luke?" I hear my strangling voice ask him as we managed to keep ourselves shielded from them. He didn't answer and I raised my tone at him "Where the hell is my kid?"

"He's hiding with (Y/N), she took him!"

"Where?" My hands were swinging the lightsaber as fast as they could, even though I could feel them trembling.

"I don't fucking know- ah!" He grunted and I looked over at him.

One of the droids slashed their sword against his upper arm, ripping a pained groan out of him. I kicked it off and shoved mine against them, beating it into pieces. Kestis watches me with wide eyes and nods when I face him back.

I rush out of the hallway, running aimlessly. I needed to figure out a way of getting to Luke, but I had to think about where she would hide with him in the first place. And I had no idea, given that I still don't know much about her. So I tried the only thing I have to my advantage. I focused my senses and shut down the background noise. A few seconds later, I gathered a few whispering down the other end of the Temple.

My hands were shaking really badly, I thought I was going to pass out from the distress. It was agonizing not knowing where he was and if he was ok. I walked slowly through each closed door, until I could hear shuffling against the smaller one. It could barely fit two people in there. Usually they use force shields so any other force sensitive people wouldn't get ahold of it, but I've worked on mine for so long it can literally overreach it.

"Luke! Are you in there?" I ask, resting my hand over the door knob while leaning my ear against the door. There's still faint noises on the other side. It was faint, but I could hear them. "It's me, it's dad"

"Don't open the door, Luke. It could be a changeling" She whispers to him.

"But I know it's my dad. I can feel it" Luke whispers back, leaning against the door. I can feel his energy dissipating through the room.

"It's me Luke. It's not a changeling, I'm right here!" I try to whisper to him as well, maybe he will sense it too.

For a brief second, he mentioned opening the door but (Y/N) caught him in the middle of it. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"No, young boy. Did your father not tell you to not trust anyone?" Her words hit me hard like a brick.

I know I've been clear about that, but it felt too weird to be on the other side of the story this time. She knows how I feel about trusting people, (Y/N) is trying to keep him safe using my own advice.

Again, he shuffled on the other side and I felt his body moving further away from the door. This time, she was standing against it.

"Stay back, and hold onto me" She asked in a low tone and slowly turned the doorknob.

I didn't wait until she opened fully, making myself step into the tiny room as I felt a whip of laser coming inches across from my face. She really needs to start practicing her freaking aiming. I watch as she holds tightly to the blaster gun and sighs in relief when she notices it's just me.

I kneel down and hold Luke tightly against me, resting my chin over his small shoulder. His arms cross around my neck and he holds me back with urge.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask in a rush and feel my hands pull him tighter, almost merging our bodies together. He mumbles a "no" and clings to me.

I have to be faster if I want to get ourselves out of there alive and in pieces. I hold him up and place both of his legs around my waist, looking back at (Y/N) who watches the closed door, apprehensive.

She looks back at me for a slight second, nodding before preparing herself to walk out of the room.

"Thank you" I mumble almost silently when I stare back at her, both of us getting in position.

We ran across the hallway looking for any kind of cover, while I used my free hand to deflect the blasts and hit them where I could. Whereas (Y/N) attempts to aim and shoot them, miserably failing at it. But at least she's trying. I get to one of the giant metal doors that leads us to the underground, where we keep gears and machines running. There isn't really a path to follow under there, giving us time to reach outside the hangar.

We are met with a couple of battle droids, reaching out to them with Luke still on my hold, while he keeps his head low on my neck and his arms still around my body. I take a sharp inhale and decide to pass him over to her. I have to do it fast otherwise I'll regret it. She darts her eyes at me with furrowed brows and a concerned look, but still does so.

She realizes what I'm on to when I grasp the blaster out of her hand and start to shoot them while using my lightsaber at the same time. The spinning helps me get through the blasts, giving me advantage when I finally beat them down. But there are screaming and rumbling on the other side of the hangar, our teammates fighting them off as well as trying to get rid of their attack.

I step forward trying to figure out a way of getting them down quicker, but my plans get interrupted when something blows them up into flames. My mouth hangs open when I snap my head to the left and watch a ship as it fires off another laser cannon over them.

We all watch as whoever is in charge starts to get off, turning the aircraft around and speeding up in seconds. When I look back to the blown up droids, I notice they took down each one of them and the screaming has finally stopped.

We were safe. Whatever that was, they saved us.

From the distance, I see Poe and Cal running towards us. The redhead seems to be a little beaten but could still stand up, even though his face was covered in small cuts and splits, which was manageable. The pilot, on the other hand, kept holding his side, while his head was wrapped in cloth. You could still see fresh blood spreading against it.

"Holy shit" Poe was out of breath, he dropped all his weight over my shoulder where he kept his hand rested on. "Holy shit"

Holy shit indeed. I should tell him this battle is still nothing compared to what he was about to do.

I snake an arm under his body and lift him up, supporting him while we walk slowly. Louise walks past me still carrying Luke as she carefully uses her free hand to rest on Cal's face.

"Jesus, Cal. Are you okay?" She asks him, concerned about his injuries even though he gives her a nod.

Her thumb ghosts over his cheek, and he holds her hand with both of his, squeezing it. Kestis gives her a sided hug, ruffling Luke's hair.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Poe grunts next to me and I give him a quick look.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I sense something... weird" He murmurs, using my shoulder for support. "I think it's jealousy"

"What the fuck, Poe?" The pilot is holding a cheeky grin on his face, and I feel my jaw clenching.

"Is that even an emotion you have? Is it possible?" He asks and I dig my mechanic fingers into his shoulder blade. "Ow! Ow! Okay, I'm sorry!"

"Shut up, before I change my mind and feed you to the Ewoks" I hear him chuckling, even though he's definitely in pain.

"Ewoks and Wookies love me, you're gonna have to try harder" Poe muttered.

I swat my hand over his head carefully, not wanting to hurt him even more than I wish I could. "I'll handle you to the fucking First Order next time"

He opens his mouth with an offended look and I display a victorious smirk at him.

There are dozens of injured people at the medical bay, it's definitely going to be a difficult job for all the medics, we were probably going to have to ask for a backup. Both him and Cal get assisted, while we watch them leave our sight. I feel Luke's small hands grab my neck, pulling himself against my body once again.

I shift his weight and whisper him some comforting words. He was really disturbed and I feel bad he had to live this shit. From the corner of my eye, I see (Y/N) trying to get rid of the dried blood from her trembling hands. I reach over and hold her wrist gently as she looks over me with a confused look.

Yes, I hate her sometimes, and she annoys me a lot. But I need to be friendly over the situation.

"We're fine, we're safe now" I speak through a comforting tone and she nods.

"Wasn't prepared for all of this" She tries to keep her head up, but her lips form into a thin line and I know she's in shock.

"I know, we never really are" My flesh hand gives her a reassurance squeeze and I feel my skin burn.

I can't handle the touch. I mean, I can handle touching my son. But when it comes to a woman, I just can't. It still reminds me of her. I jolt it back and try to cover up my reaction. Poe fucking ruined it for me. How can I be jealous of her if we can barely stand each other? This is probably a nonsense statement.

She doesn't say another word, holding her body with affliction.

I clear my throat before I choke out another "thank you". She glances up at me again, this time surprise washed over her face. "Thank you for taking care of him when I wasn't here. And for reminding him about trust"

This is a bit of a big deal to me. As much as I try to keep my distance from her, she keeps being pulled back like a damn magnet. I force myself to stay away from her but things always take a turn and we're once again facing each other. It gives me anxiety, and it's not a good one. If there's even a good kind of anxiety. It makes me feel like I'm taking many steps back after struggling with my reality.

I don't deserve someone in my life anymore, except Luke. All I did was hurt the people I love the most, and if I can keep them alive I can't allow myself to be too close to them. I mean, all of them. I don't want to be a friend for Cal, or Poe. I don't want to be a friend for (Y/N) either. This was an exception, she had to do it because I wasn't there for him. But I won't let it happen again.

And what happened today at the Temple was my fault. Whoever got killed or injured, it was because of me. It was because I still go after those who hurt me before. And General Grievous won't stop until he gets to me. I need to work on getting to him first before it's too late for me. I have to do this alone, this is my fight. I won't have anyone's blood in my hands anymore.

Only my own.

@adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeenerd @readingthingsonhere @js-favnanadoongi @twilightzone24

[silverzoomies]

Honeysuckle

peter Maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sugar blues

warnings: female reader (sorry), sex pollen, aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, shameless smut, rough sex, kissing, porn with (slight) plot, canon divergence

word count: 4466

a/n: hiii !! this is my first fic posted to trunglr !! i've diverged from canon a lot here. timeline is modern day. remember deadpool 2? and the x men cameos? just ignore the fact that everyone would be old af now. pretend they're not old. also, even though he doesn't show up; it's the kelsey grammer beast btw. because i'm based. tyvm

chapter 2 here.

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Peter really didn’t mean to be such a menace.

Like, pffbbt…this was totally the most accidental instance of the classic phrase: Wrong place, wrong time. Outside of Hank’s lab, Peter noticed something he hadn’t seen the day prior. A faint light, emitting a firefly-like glow. Curiously snooping, as one naturally does, he peeked through the window of the lab door. Only to find…no one was there.

Peter checked the digital watch on his wrist. A Garfield watch. Totally sweet.

Hm.

Hank’s lab was usually occupato on late Friday evenings like today. He should’ve been inside, poking around with some newfangled gadget. Or conjuring up some gnarly formula. But, upon further inspection? The lab was entirely absent of any big, beastly scientists. Not a hint of blue fur to be found.

Maybe he took a break?

Nah. If there was one thing Peter knew about Hank? He never gave himself down time. Ever. The big guy would rather stay up for 72 consecutive hours in a row. Pounding down enough black coffee to scald his throat. Pouring through documents and schematics, keeping his brain persistently active. Such is the life of a mega nerd.

Which begged the question: Where was said mega nerd?

The faint glow from inside the lab caught Peter’s curious eye again. Tempting him to be just a little nosier. Something about the light was almost mesmerizing. Irresistible, even.

Screw it, he thought.

Even these days, in his early thirties; Peter was just as much of a menace as he was in his youth. Had he chilled out by a touch? Absolutely. Did he still enjoy a little mischief-making every now and then? Most definitely.

It really wouldn’t be so bad if he allowed himself one, quick look inside, right? A fast one. Faster than fast. No accidents. In and out.

Peter rushed through the door and into the lab at high speed. His movements were a little too careless and overconfident. And in his carelessness, he may have accidentally bumped straight into a lab table. How he hadn’t seen it coming, he’d never be able to guess.

Somewhat distracted, Peter crashed straight into the table. The force of his body against it caused a series of glass beakers and test tubes to come tumbling down. They shattered upon hitting the tiled floor below. And Peter stumbled back to try and avoid the mess.

His worn sneakers (one of the laces was untied. Must have been the true culprit. Sneaky sneakers.) crushed bits of fragile glass. The soles slid along a neon, pink substance. A glowing substance. The same, faint light he’d been hella curious about in the first place.

In seconds, a hot-pink gas unexpectedly rose into the air. It drifted upwards with a cloudiness much akin to cigarette smoke, straight from the substance Peter stepped in.

“Oh…well…shit…that can’t be good.” He mumbled to himself, pulling his earphones down to hang around his neck. Thin Lizzy’s Sugar Blues echoed quietly from them.

Peter stepped even further back the moment the foreign gas met his nostrils. He coughed, swiping away at the heavy cloud of smoke. A sweet-tasting thickness, like honeysuckle, coated his tongue and filled his throat. Peter blinked away an unexpected, stunned stupor. And he looked down at the pink glow, now having stained one of his shoes.

“Shiiiiit…shit shit shit.”

Glancing around to make sure no one saw what happened, Peter sighed. Annoyed with himself. Way to fuckin’ go, dude.

“Hope that wasn’t anything toxic.” He whispered with a soft cough, clearing his throat. Sugary sweetness littered his taste buds, and he smacked his lips.

Peter bent down to pick up the larger shards of glass on the lab floor. And as he poked through the pieces, he found the occasional strand of blue, beast hair left behind. A reminder. Which made him feel all the more guilty, knowing how annoyed Hank would be once he saw the damage. Sighing again, Peter looked over the mess of broken glass and mysterious liquids.

He shook his head. For a split second, he felt dizzy.

In a rush to clean up the evidence of his escapade, Peter tried to move quickly. However, he found his body refused to kick into speedster mode. His brain, which usually operated at lightspeed; now functioned at a pace way too mellow for his liking. He almost wanted to panic, but his reaction time moved like molasses.

Shit. Fuck. Maybe that glowy, pink substance was something toxic.

The physical effects of whatever-the-fuck he’d breathed in started, weirdly enough, in his fingertips. A strange, almost alien warmth, unlike any Peter had ever felt before. It spread from the tips of his fingers, into the thick veins of his hands. Peter hesitated, dropping a shard of glass. He raised his hand to carefully inspect it, furrowing his brows.

Should he call someone for help? Maybe wait for Hank to come back? Aw, but Hank’s totally gonna give him shit for messin’ things up so bad…

A tingling sensation in his hands kept Peter’s attention for a moment longer. The minute on Peter’s Garfield watch changed with the agonizingly slow passage of time. And a single second ticked by in silence. The only sound to be heard was that of Killer on the Loose playing through his earphones. But in his laggy state of mind, Peter barely registered the tune.

And like the flip of a switch, both Peter’s thoughts, as well as his body, finally caught up with reality. Speeding to an inhuman degree all over again. As if returning to normal. His normal.

Normalcy lasted 0.1 seconds.

Warmth lingering under Peter’s skin turned to blistering heat. A heat which immediately surged through his blood. It gave him goosebumps, causing Peter to jump in his spot. He dropped the pile of glass he’d picked up. And in a blink, Peter stood, struggling to catch his breath. Every inch of his burning body tingled, as though his veins were injected with buzzing, electric static.

The fiery buzz lit aflame in his veins, and moved with a furious rush. It settled somewhere completely unexpected. Boiling deep within his pelvis, the scorching sensation caused his muscles to tighten. And following that, Peter felt his cock spring to life. It twitched under his shining, silver jeans.

A millisecond passed, and his dick grew rock hard.

“Ohhhh-…wait…what the fuck???”

He knew he shouldn’t leave the mess he made behind. That’d be, like, mad rude. Majorly inconsiderate. And probably hazardous too? Fuck! Not fuckin’ cool!

But, at the same time, there was no way in hell Peter could face Hank, or anyone else right now. Not while this was happening. Whatever the hell this was.

Before he bolted, Peter disappeared from the lab and reappeared in a flash. He placed a wet floor sign over the mess of scattered glass and science-y substances. And left a hastily scribbled, sticky note behind:

My bad, Beastie. 

- Peter

Panicked, he made a mad dash to his (his mom’s) house. And in a blink’s worth of time, Peter disappeared behind the door to the basement. He hoped with every fiber of his speedy soul, that his mother wasn’t home to hear the sound of it slamming shut.

Once locked in the basement, Peter didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He stumbled through the messy space in a confused, feverish daze. His mind seemed to race a million miles faster. So fast, even Quicksilver himself could barely keep up. Muffled thoughts he couldn’t yet comprehend echoed in the furthest reaches of his subconscious. Peter felt his cheeks flare up with red heat, his breathing growing more labored and hot. Every step he took, every inch he moved, flooded Peter with overwhelming discomfort. Why did his clothes feel so irritating all of a sudden? His skin cringed at the sensation of cotton fabric brushing against it. Peter couldn’t breathe like this. How could anybody breathe in clothes as suffocating as these? He needed to shed them immediately. Now. Right now.

Peter tried to catch his breath as he shrugged off his signature, silver jacket. Next, came the goggles. They were tossed carelessly aside, along with his Walkman. Which he forgot to turn off, leaving it playing through a Thin Lizzy tape he’d already heard a thousand times over. Chinatown.

Sweat drenched articles of clothing were all dropped on the floor. Until Peter was left in nothing but tight, grey, boxer-briefs. And the Garfield watch. He kind of forgot about the Garfield watch.

Peter left a trail of soaked clothes to his unmade bed. Weakly, he fell into the cushions and off his quivering legs. 

For a torturous moment, all he could do was writhe around in clouded, heated agony. Every single one of his limbs ached with dull pain. And the blistering heat pooling in his pelvis made him squirm with amorous starvation.

A starvation for something he hadn’t yet figured out.

“Fuuuuuuck. Fuck this.” Peter groaned in soft, breathy pants.

A powerful surge of an even stronger, electric heat fired through him again. And his eyes flew open wide. Beady, black pupils flooded the brown of his irises. Sucking in a deep, labored breath; Peter rolled onto his back. A trickle of steaming sweat dripped down his temple. Titling his head up, Peter squinted. His vision blurred slightly as he stared ahead.

Dark, half-lidded eyes met the twitching bulge in his boxer-briefs. And he knit his brows together.

Something seemed…different.

So, like, whatever. Maybe, privately, Peter had always prided himself on his size. Most definitely above average. His dick had a nice thickness to it, and wasn’t weirdly shaped in any way. And the few times he fucked around with it, he never heard a single complaint from anyone.

But this…

Unless he was totally blind to the size of his own dick his entire life? Something really wasn’t right here. 

Another rush of hot, sticky heat washed over Peter like a feverish wave. He trembled, hissing in response to the overwhelming burn that came with it. Under the fabric of his underwear, Peter’s bulge pulsated with demanding aggression. Begging for any stimulation. In a foggy, desperate haze of sexual frustration, Peter reached downward. Hesitant fingers dragged frantically across a trail of soft, silver hairs. Guiding themselves to the waistband of his underwear. A wet spot caught his eye, and he groaned. In one, quick motion, Peter shoved the garment down his trembling legs. Slick precum pulled with the fabric, separating from the tip of his leaking head.

And Peter’s aching cock finally bounced free.

He struggled to comprehend the image in front of him. Peter rapidly blinked, staring down at his dick in muddled confusion. Blossoming desire burst with an electrifying buzz through his cock. And Peter hissed again. He sank his teeth hard into his lip, mindlessly bucking his hips into nothing.

Nothing.

An instinct in his subconscious mind forced itself forward, demanding Peter find something. And fast. His cock bounced on its own again, visibly pulsating. Thick, wet precum spilled from the tip. And he threw his head back with a whine.

“H-Holy shit…”

Yeah. No doubt about it now. Peter’s dick looked a lot bigger than he remembered. The length ached so painfully, vibrating in a most subtle way. Imperceptible to the human eye. Colored a dark, pinkish hue, and decorated with pulsing veins; Peter’s cock appeared on the verge of bursting. And the tip sputtered with so much precum, he was left wondering if he’d cum already without realizing it.

Whatever! Be cool, dude! So, yeah! He must have exposed himself to some kind of weird, sex chemical. What the hell was Hank even doing with something that potent?? No way he was saving it for personal use. Peter really didn’t wanna think about that right now.

But he couldn’t have slapped a warning label on it?

Don’t touch! Lest ye be horny!

Not that Peter would’ve seen a label anyway.

No big dealio! Maybe all he needed was to get off. And really get off. Like, maybe Peter needed to nut so hard, the afterglow would slow him down for a good, few minutes. Instead of his usual, mere seconds.

He could totally do that! Easily! If Peter felt it necessary, he could beat off in the span of a second. Maybe after? He could finally move on with his life. Never to race carelessly through Beastie Boy’s nerd lab again. Call it a lesson learned.

Peter took his girthy(er) length in his hand, the veins straining under his skin. Based on feel alone, he could tell he’d grown in size. His hand was big enough on its own as is. But his cock held an even heavier, unfamiliar weight in his palm. Extremely sensitive too. Peter’s cock was so hypersensitive, that a single, light grasp got him writhing across the bedsheets. 

He sucked in another, ragged breath. Just a quick second was all he needed. And this heinous experience would finally come to pass. Relief. Peter only wanted to feel sweet, freeing relief. 

Reminder. Note to self: Maybe don’t go barreling through any science labs like a total spaz next time.

Several, squeezing pumps of his cock happened in an instant. By the next second, Peter came in bursts. Thick ropes of cum burned hot on his skin, quickly spilling over and making a filthy mess of him.

At the height of orgasm, his body convulsed in small twitches. Subtle vibrations raced through his veins, bringing feelings of ecstasy with them. Peter bit his lip even harder to hold back the obscene moans threatening to leave his throat. He breathed humid, exasperated pants of air through his nose.

Being the king of speed, it was completely natural for Peter to recover immediately after cumming. A couple seconds, and he’d be good to go all over again. Peter secretly prided himself on this trait too. His endless stamina came (no pun intended) in handy, should any totally hot babes wanna screw around for hours at a time. 

Such a trait wasn’t so handy now. Under the alluring spell of magical, sex chemicals? Recovery took less than a nanosecond. 

Peter’s head fell forward, his hand still wrapped around his raging hard-on. Absent-mindedly, he pumped the length without thinking, spreading the remnants of his first release. Running his other hand through the damp, silver locks of his hair, Peter groaned.

“Ohhh….this sucks so bad…auuugh…”

That same, now all too familiar ache fluctuating in his cock raged on. Orgasm did nothing at all to calm the storm surging with electric, tingling heat through Peter’s body. His dick twitched, pulsating red. Desperate to bury itself deep in something hot, wet, and so tight. Fuck. Peter needed something tight around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. And he needed it so, wickedly bad.

He pushed himself over the edge two more times. And after that, another three. Eventually, his maddening frustration got the better of him. Peter stood from his bed in a fwip. Slumped over in a heavy breathing, cum drenched mess of himself; Peter observed his sweat-soaked body in a full mirror. 

His heart hammered away fast enough to send even him into cardiac arrest. Peter couldn’t catch his breath. And no matter how many times he felt the sweet, sanctity of orgasmic release; his desire was never satiated. Peace lasted only a fraction of a second, before dissipating completely. Leaving Peter to suffer in endless, boner agony.

The next second, Peter found himself hunched over in the shower.

Cool, icy cold water cascaded down his trembling body. Bracing his hand on the wall, Peter kept his other pressed to the wet glass. In an attempt to relax himself, Peter took long, drawn out breaths. Trying to calm the stirring fire in the pit of his belly; he fought the insatiable desires raving on in the back of his mind.

The cold did little to rid him of his painful, oversensitive erection. Peter couldn’t shake his thirsty, carnal needs. Even as he basked in the peace of cool wetness on his scorching skin, horniness consumed him. Dragging him down into the flaming depths of frisky hell. Praise be to our dark lord and savior: Boner Satan.

Peter made another, more frustrated attempt at stroking himself off. Just one more time, he thought. Standing under heavenly, frigid water; Peter wrapped a warm hand around his length. He was so, insanely desperate for anything to fuck that, by now; Peter instinctively rocked his hips into his own fist. Fucking into the wetness of it, he kept a palm pressed to the shower glass.

“Please please please please please please please pl-f-fuck! Oh, please please-” Peter whined, a flurry of needy moans leaving his lips. Yet another second passed, and Peter came again. Shooting a thick load of hot cum straight onto the shower wall, he shuddered. Peter’s hips moved on their own accord. And he found himself unable to control his own movements. His cock continued to fuck itself rapidly into his fist, even despite the near-painful overstimulation coursing through his veins. 

Peter couldn’t stop the tearful moans of torturous pleasure flying off his tongue.

“F-FUCK! FUUUUCK! PLEASE!” He cried, forcing himself to free his cock.

Falling forward, Peter pressed his forehead to the cool, shower wall. And he braced himself with an elbow to its surface. Soaked, silver locks hung over his face, and Peter stared down at the shower drain in hazy thought.

He knew he was beyond exhausted, having pushed himself too far. Peter’s mutation never allowed him to sleep. But once this was all over? He promised himself he'd be taking the longest nap ever recorded in human history. Jot that one down in the Guinness World Records. 

Peter lazily blinked, his eyes half-lidded.

Time to face facts. Only one thing could possibly satisfy this unending, carnal need. Peter’s animalistic instincts blared like a siren, shrill in his ear. They screamed out - Another person. Peter needed to feel the intimate touch of another, living, breathing body. Someone to breed. That word seemed to echo in the back of his mind like a forbidden whisper. Breed. Breed. Breed.

A conflicting onslaught of embarrassment swung like a wrecking ball through Peter’s thoughts. It shattered the lecherous desire holding itself stable in his head. Sure, he needed to feel the touch of another person. But…who??

Truthfully, Peter wasn’t comfortable screwing around with anyone in this state. Had this been any normal day? And he only wanted a fun, playful fling? No strings attached? He’d be a lot more open. But…like this? Misty headed, overstimulated, and choking to death on an ultra-desperate, sweet smelling, horny spell? C’mon! That’s just-...that’s so, majorly embarrassing! How was he even supposed to explain this totally weird scenario to anyone anyway? 

Sup, babe! So, I was fuckin’ around. Bein’ a pest. Y’know, as usual. And I sorta knocked some stuff over in ol’ Beastie’s lab. Yeah. There was this weird aphrodisiac involved, I guess. It was totally an accident, by the way. But I’m, like, so horny right now I can’t breathe. Already tried jerkin’ off. Yeah. Like, a lot. So, uh…listen…wanna screw?

Nope! Not happening! No way in hell!

But dammit all, he needed it! Peter was so, painfully hard and starving to fuck; he was almost convinced he’d die if he didn’t get to. If he didn’t bury his dick in something so deep and warm; if Peter didn’t stuff someone full of enough cum to cause a pregnancy scare. He would literally die. Plain and simple. A fact of science. Confirmed by Bill Nye himself.

What else was he supposed to do? Ask Hank for advice? Pfffbbt…

Burning, insatiable desire swarmed Peter again. He disappeared from the shower in an instant, now completely dried off. And he paced the basement at a speed so quick, he looked nothing more than a nude blur in the wind.

Okay. Fuck. Who, man? Who?? Think about this logically! How could Peter get his dick wet with as little embarrassment involved as possible?

Peter’s first thought?

You.

It shouldn’t have been you. But it was you.

Because of course you were his first thought. Peter had known you long enough now, that he felt he could trust you with anything. Even wickedly awkward situations like this one. You were his best friend. His dorky, little partner in crime. So patient, and so understanding. He knew for sure you’d never, in a million, bajillion years, judge him. For anything. No matter what.

Not to mention, you’d look so damn fine with your ass bent over for him, eagerly taking his coc-

Peter shook away the thought.

Jeez…that’s…a hella twisted thought to have about your best bud, dude.

Regardless of what Peter told himself, his instincts seemed to think otherwise. He felt his cock pulsate with painful, aching need again. And yet another, more torturous burst of heat blazed like a wildfire through his blood. Peter had become so oversensitive, he couldn’t hold back anymore of his needy, whiny noises.

Bolting to his bed in a flash, Peter grabbed a pillow. And he buried his face into the plush of it to conceal his moans.

“A-Aaaaa…fuck-” He whined, his voice muffled. What followed was a distressed laugh.

Focus! Focus, you horny spaz!

Other options. What were his other options, if any?

Some random stranger? No.

One: Peter wasn’t at all comfortable with total randos touching him like that. And Two: Talking some randy into messing around would take wayyyyy too long. Peter didn’t have the patience for it. Especially not right now.

You.

Mystique? Hot. So hot, she’s deadly. But, no.

She was Hank’s girl anyway. What kinda bro would Peter be to steal her away, just to relieve some horny tension? And tension he brought upon himself, while being a nuisance in Hank’s lab, no less. That’d be messed up, man! 

You.

Any other members of the X-Men? 

Ehhh…probably not. Most of ‘em were too young for Peter anyway. How warped would it be if he went to them in need of a sexual favor? They already thought he was a bit of a screwball. Why make it any worse?

You.

Wade Wilson?

He’d been assisting the X-Men a lot lately. All under the guidance of mister Russian, steel-dick himself: Colossus. Wade was a pretty eccentric guy. And a huge pervert. Really kinky. The kind of dude who’d be open to virtually anything if the right person asked him. So… why not?

But Wade would probably have a field day ripping Peter’s dignity apart. And more than likely, he’d spill the details to everyone completely unprompted. Plus, he’d be so obnoxious and teasing about Peter’s situation the whole time. And when was Wade ever gonna stop calling Peter ‘Jeffrey’ for no reason?? That shit didn't make any sense! Augh…

Nah. Couldn’t be him.

You.

Peter sucked in another, shuddering breath. His limbs trembled in humming surges of unbearable pleasure. As his pulsing cock bounced in a distracting desire for touch; Peter forced himself to ignore it. He checked his Garfield watch, squinting to make out the numbers through hazy vision.

Right about now? He knew your schedule should be open. Peter had memorized your daily doings at a distance. In a totally-not-creepy way. More in a clingy-lost-puppy-who-missed-your-company kinda way. Not that you knew about it. Which…yeah…maybe that did make it a little weird. Oops.

Peter fell onto his back on his bed, sinking into the blankets. He rapidly drummed his fingers on his bare belly. And he nipped his bottom lip in thought.

He’d always been a bit of a risk-taker. Facing the forbidden often gave Peter a kind of rush he sorely missed at this point in his life. And of all the risky chances he could take, none would be as forbidden as sticking his dick in his best friend.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. No duh, he’d thought about it. A lot. Ever since he met you, Peter hadn’t been blind to the obvious. Of course, he noticed how your hips swayed as you walked. How could he resist staring at the fullness of your lips, while you giggled at another one of his corny jokes? And it was virtually impossible to ignore the way your eyes sparkled up at him. Especially when he called you babe. And what about the cute look on your face when you blushed, all because Peter teased you one, too many times? 

Wait. Shit.

Either he was way too far gone, and lost without hope in a desolate desert of horny.

Or…Peter only just now realized he was totally, undeniably in love with you.

Probably both. Or, maybe? Just horny.

Teeth sinking further into his lip, Peter grinned mischievously through the pink flush in his cheeks. He’d been absentmindedly stroking his cock while lost in a daze of filthy, wreckless thoughts. Ultra, mega, next-level, wreckless thoughts.

Peter should have known. The very instant he thought of turning to you for help? He was done for. No turning back. No other option. There was nobody else in the world he’d rather screw around with right about now.

Another thought flashed through Peter’s mind. Like a brilliant light. The image of you on your back in his bed. Your legs spread open wide, just for him. Your gorgeous, doe eyes timidly looking up at him as you helped guide his cock into your-

Peter’s throbbing dick stood to immediate attention then. So, extremely rock hard it seemed to have a mind of its own. Peter’s cock pulled itself from his grasp, pulsating with a swell of hot desire. For you. And only you. 

He really, really, really shouldn’t do this. It’d be leagues beyond stupid. Reaching levels of stupidity only found in far off, distant universes.

But, hey! Peter might literally die! So, fuck it. Right? No way you’d be happy if he died. His death would most definitely break your heart. And he didn’t wanna break your heart!

A fwip, and Peter grabbed his phone from where it was buried, deep in some sofa cushions. His phone was a device he barely ever used. Social media wasn’t his forte. Peter wasn't afraid to admit; he was pretty out of touch. He still listened to cassette tapes on a Walkman, for fuck’s sake.

Typing something into his phone in a heated stupor, Peter’s fingers sped across the keys. Embarrassingly enough, he found he made an ungodly amount of spelling errors. Not his fault. He could barely even think straight. Instead of correcting his mistakes, Peter erased the text entirely. Replacing it with something much more simple and to-the-point.

He only hoped you’d understand.

- Basement. SOS

[grayhyacinth]

Random Act of Kindness Day

Hello! It's been O-O Like six years since I last posted a work? A lot has happened during my long hiatus (writers block). But, I hope that this is a fun, new beginning.

Disclaimer: This work is with an assumption that Dipper and Mabel are older, but is still set in the current timeline of Gravity Falls (if that makes sense).

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

The warm sunlight filters in through the cracks of the blinds, shining down onto your face. Your legs move against the soft sheets, scrambling away from the warm light and back into the cool, dark shade. You feel the accidental touch of another's limb entangling with yours, and suddenly, the awareness of a nearby person kicks in.

Your eyes open begrudgingly. Blinking away the sleepy fog, the hazy outline of a breathing figure becomes obvious. Bushy brown hair, tousled in every direction, and a red shirt peeking out from beneath the cozy blanket—it’s Dipper.

His back is turned towards you, but you could tell it's him even in the dark.

A slow smile spreads across your face, your eyes softening as you watch your boyfriend sleep peacefully. A part of you is tempted to pinch him awake.

Reflecting on the previous day, you realize that your stay at the Mystery Shack is likely to extend longer than expected. The dragon that terrorized Gravity Falls and subsequently reduced your home to ashes with its fiery breath has made sure of that. It'll take at least a miraculous week for the construction workers to rebuild your house. Adding to the uncertainty, your aunt and uncle, with whom you were spending the summer, are still out of town and won’t return for a few more days. The only explanation you could recall for their departure was something about Las Vegas—perhaps they were seeing a show?

Lost in thought about your temporary situation, you barely notice Dipper shifting beside you. He turns to face you, rubbing his swollen eyes. His gaze drifts from your distant stare to the slight purse of your lips.

"You're awake before me…"

His somewhat raspy voice pulls you back to the moment. You refocus on him, a light chuckle escaping as you tease, "Morning, sleeping beauty. How was the sleep?"

Dipper groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other remains tucked under the pillow, acting as an extra cushion. "Ugh… seriously?"

You laugh, satisfied with his reaction. "What? I'm just surprised you slept in. Usually, you're up at the crack of dawn, either heading off to the basement with Grunkle Ford or helping Grunkle Stan with the Mystery Shack." Your eyes flick to the clock on his bedside table. It’s midday—meaning we both slept through the entire morning.

Luckily you skipped eating Stan's pancakes. The idea of eating one of his arm hairs gave you shivers.

"Hmm," Dipper hums thoughtfully, preparing his throat to respond. "Well, someone had to take down that dragon. And it definitely wasn't you." With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reaches out and lightly pokes the tip of your nose.

"Haha, hey!" You laugh, swatting his hand away playfully. "It wasn’t you either! If I remember right, a certain Grunkle with a pot belly climbed onto the dragon’s back and punched it in the face until it plummeted into the canyons beyond Gravity Falls."

Dipper shrugs nonchalantly. "Someone had to tell him what to do. I used the journal to figure out the dragon’s weakness. That’s what led to Stan recklessly defeating it."

"Okay, okay," you concede, sitting up and raising your hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. You're the hero, Dipper."

A smug grin spreads across his face, a self-satisfied smile that stretches from ear to ear. "That's right, (Y/n)."

You swing one leg out of the comfortable bed, the sticky, humid air in the attic making it increasingly uncomfortable to stay under the covers. Yet, despite the heat, a part of you longs to retreat back into the cozy embrace of a lazy afternoon. But the thought of wasting away a perfectly good summer day doesn’t sit well with you.

Before you can fully escape, Dipper scrambles forward, catching your waist with his arm and pulling you back toward him. "Where do you think you’re going?" he teases, rubbing his nose playfully against the back of your shirt, bunching up the fabric.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you grab his forearm, trying to pry him off. But to your surprise, his grip is stronger than you expected. "What are you doing? Let go, Dipper!"

Dipper lets out a soft noise of defiance, clearly agitated by your unusual willingness to leave his embrace. Normally, you would do anything to stay near him for longer than ten minutes, as he would usually be too flustered to stand beside you without almost exploding. Now, he buries his face deeper into your back, inhaling the scent of your shirt while mumbling incomprehensible words.

You twist slightly to get a glimpse of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the tips of his ears are bright red, and a flush of color highlights his cheeks. Why was he clinging to you so desperately? You sigh gently, your tone softening as you ask, "What's wrong, Dipper?" You run your fingers through his messy brown locks, ruffling his hair. Despite the occasional knot, it’s incredibly soft to the touch.

"Let's just…" he mumbles again, his voice barely audible as his nose nuzzles against your hip. His arm tightens around you, pulling you even closer.

You swallow thickly and look up at the slanted ceiling. If this is some kind of blessing, waking up to a clingy Dipper, then you ought to thank whatever higher power is responsible. You also hope your dead relatives are averting their gazes from this private moment.

Taking a deep breath, you lay back down and adjust both of your bodies on the twin bed until you're facing each other. His legs instinctively intertwine with yours, and just as naturally, his hands find your waist, while yours cup his cheeks. Now that your eyes have fully adjusted to the dim light, you notice the drooping eye bags beneath Dipper’s swollen eyes. It looks like his thoughts kept him up last night.

"Dipper…" you murmur, rubbing his face soothingly. You're careful, pressing lightly against his pale skin. "You can tell me what's wrong, you know? Whatever it is, it’s okay to let me know what's upsetting you."

Despite the reassurance in your voice, Dipper hesitates, weighing whether to open up. It’s not fear holding him back; it’s the worry that you might see him differently. All summer, he’d been crafting an image of himself that he hoped would impress you—from hunting monsters to showing off his latest inventions. The last thing he wanted was for you to think less of him for being a bit vulnerable.

"I thought…" Dipper swallows hard, blinking a few times as he gathers his thoughts. "I thought I was going to lose you yesterday." His words come out gruffly, almost like an old man grumbling to himself, but there’s a tremor in his voice. Saying it aloud makes his fear feel both foolish and painfully real. Maybe you mean even more to him than he realized. "I thought that dragon was going to eat you, (Y/n). Or worse, you could’ve fallen from a million feet in the sky! I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve done something sooner."

You feel him clench your shirt, his fist trembling slightly as his breath hitches at the thought of losing you. Your expression softens, and you gently brush your fingers against the corners of his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Dipper… Aww… you know, we’ve been in much scarier situations, right?"

"Yeah, but the dragon literally picked you up with its sharp fangs and started flapping its wings!"

"Like a giant bat?"

"…Yeah… like an impossibly ginormous bat," Dipper sniffles, ducking his head lower. His eyes and the upper parts of his cheeks are hidden in the shadow of his hair, making it difficult for you to see his expression.

You can sense the weight of his fear, the way he’s been holding it all in, trying to be strong for you.

"Well," you begin, careful not to coddle him in a way that might make him feel ridiculed, though he was undeniably adorable in this moment. "Just like those bats you scramble to catch in Stan's kitchen, I knew you'd come to save the day." A gentle smile spreads across your face as you squished his cheeks and then pulled him into a deep embrace.

As you press against him, the familiar scent of clean laundry and pine trees fills your senses, a surprisingly comforting combination that always reminds you of Dipper. For someone who often fumbles through awkward moments and sweats through tense situations, he actually smells pretty pleasant. Perhaps it’s that ever-present vest that usually traps the worst of it, but right now, in this quiet moment, he’s almost intoxicatingly comforting. Ugh… that sounds weird.

You pat his back soothingly, your hands moving in slow, rhythmic circles as the creaks of the wooden shack and the distant, boisterous shouts of Dipper’s relatives filter in from outside.

But then, the tranquility is interrupted by a loud, unmistakable grumble from Dipper’s stomach. You pull away just enough to meet his eyes, your own widening in surprise.

"…That did not sound human," you quip, laughter bubbling up from your chest.

"Haha… sorry, (Y/n)," Dipper mumbles, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson as he sits up, sheepishly clutching his stomach. "That’s… embarrassing."

"Pfft…" You stifle your laughter, finding his awkwardness endearing. It’s a relief to see him returning to his usual self, though a part of you still worries that the earlier sadness might creep back in if you’re not careful. "Come on, let’s get something to eat, Dipping Sauce."

The nickname rolls off your tongue effortlessly, and before Dipper can muster up a protest against the new name, you’re already on your feet, heading for the door. His half-hearted objections follow you, but you’re too quick, slipping out of the musty attic with a change of clothes in hand.

Just across from the bedroom door is a small, worn bathroom. You step inside and lock the door, twisting the handle a couple of times to ensure it’s properly secured. In this old, creaky house, you’ve learned to be cautious—the faulty locks have nearly resulted in more than one embarrassing incident. You didn’t need a repeat of someone barging in on you in a moment of privacy.

As you glance at yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but smile, a mix of affection and amusement lingering from your interaction with Dipper. There’s something about this place, despite its decay and oddities, that feels like home—or maybe it’s just the people in it that make it feel that way.

On the porcelain sink sits a pink cup adorned with colorful stickers, filled with three toothbrushes: a blue one for Dipper, a purple one for Mabel, and your own. Hanging on the hooks on the wall is your towel, and then a vibrant, multicolored one, and another, more subdued in color. As you glance around, you realize how seamlessly you’ve settled in with the twins over the summer. The cozy familiarity of the bathroom feels like a small, comforting victory.

You finally take a good, long look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is a bit puffy from oversleeping, and your hair is a tangled mess from constantly shifting around the bed in search of a cooler spot during the night. Sighing, you reach up to open the mirror's door, revealing a hidden medicine cabinet. Three bright yellow sticky notes catch your eye.

The first reads: YOU'RE DA BEST! The second says: SMILE Someone LOVES IT! The third states: U R MY FAV PERSON!

The large, eccentric letters and the myriad of smiley faces, hearts, and stars bring a smile to your face. Mabel’s penchant for spreading positivity is evident, even when she’s not around. It’s a small reminder of her vibrant spirit and how much she values the little things that make life bright.

Singing a song, you freshen up for the day ahead. After changing into some flexible clothing, you double-tie the laces of your sneakers—just in case running from a monster becomes part of today’s agenda.

Tucking your pajamas under your arm, you open the door and are greeted by an unexpected sight. Dipper is sitting on the floor beside the bathroom door, his nose buried deep in Journal 3. The soft glow of the morning light filters through a narrow window, casting a warm hue on his focused expression.

"Dipper!" You exclaim, startled by the sight. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh um…" Dipper snaps the book shut and looks up at you, his face a mix of guilt and awkwardness. "Just… you know… waiting for you?" He hesitates, his eyes darting to the left as if searching for a more convincing excuse.

"…You know, that's kind of weird, right?"

"Umm… haha… yeah… I wasn’t actually waiting for you," he stammers, standing up abruptly and shuffling away. The tips of his ears flush a vivid shade of red. "Just needed a place to sit. Definitely wasn’t listening to you sing earlier or anything, haha."

You blink, taken aback by his strange reaction. He blinks back at you, looking equally bewildered.

You open your mouth to respond, "Dipp--"

Suddenly, he cuts you off, turning on his heel and dashing down the hallway. "You know what! I think I just heard Stan call for me! What’s that, Stan? You need help with the Mystery Shack?" His voice grows increasingly frantic as he hurries away, and soon, you’re left standing there, confused by his sudden flight.

You tilt your head, a mix of confusion and amusement on your face. "Huh… that was…" You slowly said, wondering what might have set him off. Perhaps he’s just hungry or disoriented? After a moment’s thought, you shrug it off and head back into the twins’ room.

The sight of the room never fails to catch your attention, no matter how many times you see it. Mabel’s side is a riot of color and creativity. The walls are covered with a vibrant array of stickers, photos, and posters, each one adding to her charm. Her pink bedding is decorated with a cheerful yellow flower on the headboard, giving her bed a whimsical touch.

However, Mabel’s natural disarray is evident. Her bed is a jumble of sheets and pillows, and the floor is strewn with toys, sweaters, and other belongings. It’s a vivid testament to her vibrant personality but also a stark contrast to the neatness you’ve come to expect elsewhere.

You can’t help but smile as you take in the scene. Despite the clutter, the room radiates warmth and character. It’s clear that Mabel’s creative spirit knows no bounds, and her space reflects her energetic and carefree nature.

As you settle your dirty clothes into the laundry bag, you catch sight of a small, hand-drawn poster pinned to the wall. It’s a whimsical doodle of a unicorn with a rainbow mane, surrounded by hearts and stars. Beneath it, in Mabel’s characteristic scrawl, is a note that reads: Be awesome today!

That’s too cute.

Turning your gaze to Dipper’s side of the room, you find an equally personal space. His walls are decorated with a more restrained collection of posters and maps—mostly sketches of mythical creatures, cryptic symbols, and adventure-themed designs. There’s a large, hand-drawn map of Gravity Falls pinned above his desk, with various notes and markings indicating mysterious locations and possible leads.

Dipper’s bed is neatly made, with a plain blue comforter and a couple of well-loved pillows. The bed frame is tucked against one wall, and next to it stands a wooden table cluttered with research materials: a stack of notebooks, a magnifying glass, and a few stray paper clips. On the wall above his bed, there’s hooks with binoculars hanging down. One corner of the room is dedicated to his growing collection of journals and reference books.

Despite the empty room, it felt like the twins were still there bickering.

Smiling, you spun on your heels and bounced down the staircase, humming a tune that matched your upbeat mood. As you entered the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Mabel, who was knitting away on the yellow-striped armchair while Waddles snoozed contentedly on the armrest.

“Mabel! How are you?” you called out, your voice warm and cheerful.

“(Y/n)!” Mabel’s voice rang out, filling the room with her boundless energy. “Wanna see what I’m doing?” Her eyebrows shot up in excitement as she thrust her arms out, revealing the project in her lap. The green knit was a large sweater, adorned with a huge yellow heart on the front. It was only halfway finished, but already it radiated Mabel’s signature charm.

“Aww! That’s so cute, Mabel! Who’s it going to be for?” you asked, genuinely impressed.

“It’s for Stan!” Mabel’s excitement caused her to nearly leap from her seat. “It’s so soft! Do you think he’s going to like it? I even made a matching one for Grunkle Ford.” She dramatically produced an identical sweater from behind her, its vibrant colors contrasting with the green of the first.

You felt a pang of hesitation. Mabel’s innocent enthusiasm was endearing, but you had to be honest. You gently took her hand and, with a serious expression, said, “I hate to say it, but I don’t think Stan or Ford are the type to wear sweaters. I mean, Stan can barely wear pants, and Ford… well…” You glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. Leaning in, you whispered, “He’s kind of weird…”

Mabel blinked, her eyes wide with surprise. You held your breath, hoping she wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“My Grunkle isn’t weird!” Mabel exclaimed, her face turning from shock to fierce determination. She pushed you away, and then suddenly stood on the couch cushion, her two hands firmly planted on her hips. She was gripping her needles tightly. “He’s just… quirky! And Stan is awesome! They’re gonna love these sweaters, I just know it!”

“L-Look, Mabel!” You quickly stood up, backing away slowly as if trying to distance yourself from an impending storm. With both hands in the air, you tried to gesture away her frustration. “You see—”

“He is not weird!” Mabel’s voice was filled with indignation, her face flushed with a mix of anger and hurt.

“Woah, woah…” Dipper appeared in the doorway, sandwich in one hand and the other extended in a placating gesture. “What’s going on? Mabel… put the needles down.”

Mabel glared at you for a moment before reluctantly setting the knitting needles aside, her defiant posture faltering. You sighed in relief, glancing at Dipper with a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

Dipper stepped closer, taking a bite of his sandwich before speaking. “So, what’s all this about?”

Mabel took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I was knitting sweaters for Grunkle Stan and Ford for Random Act of Kindness Day!”

“Random Act of Kindness Day?” Dipper asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yes, Random Act of Kindness Day!” Mabel’s voice trembled slightly, but her determination remained. “It’s tomorrow, and I wanted to do something nice for Stan and Ford.” She sat down on the edge of the couch, looking utterly defeated. Waddles, sensing her distress, waddled over to nuzzle her side, offering his comforting presence. “B-But (Y/n) says that they wouldn’t like it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Mabel’s disappointment hanging heavy in the air. Dipper set his sandwich down and approached Mabel, crouching beside her.

“Mabel,” he said gently, “I think (Y/n) was just trying to be realistic. But honestly, I think it’s really thoughtful of you to make these sweaters. They might not wear them all the time, but they’ll definitely appreciate the gesture. It’s the thought that counts.”

Mabel looked up at him, her eyes still shiny with unshed tears. “You think so?”

Dipper nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Definitely. And I’m sure Stan and Ford will be touched by your kindness. Besides, it’s not about what they wear—it’s about knowing you care.”

Dipper glanced over to you with a look of concern, his worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

You quickly stepped in, your voice firm but reassuring. “I never said they wouldn’t like it! I just mentioned that they might not wear it.”

After a brief pause, Dipper’s expression softened as he considered your perspective. He gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “Yeah… I’m sorry, Mabel, but I have to agree with (Y/n).”

Mabel’s face remained etched with frustration, tears streaming down her cheeks as her emotions ran high.

“Wh-What I mean is,” Dipper’s voice wavered slightly, a trace of panic coloring his words, “let’s think about it. Have we ever actually seen Stan or Ford wear sweaters? Especially bright green ones?”

Mabel blinked, her anger giving way to confusion. “No…”

“Then…” Dipper extended the word, taking a cautious step closer to his visibly upset sister. “Maybe we can help you come up with another gift idea?”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Mabel’s features softened, the earlier anger dissipating into a mixture of sadness and contemplation. Dipper managed a small, half-hearted smile, a gesture of both apology and reassurance.

You decided to chime in, trying to break the tension with a hopeful tone. “What would they like then?”

The three of you fell into thoughtful silence, pondering what Stan and Ford would truly appreciate for Random Act of Kindness Day. Stan had a well-known affection for money, while Ford’s interests leaned heavily towards his eccentric, nerdy pursuits. The possibilities seemed both endless and implausible.

A golden statue with laser eyes? A goose that pooped wads of cash every time you fed it a screw? The more you brainstormed, the more convoluted and impractical each idea appeared.

Mabel, regaining her composure, gave a small, thoughtful nod. “Well, Stan does love money, and Ford… he’s always talking about weird science stuff. Maybe we could come up with something that combines their interests?”

Dipper’s eyes lit up with a spark of inspiration. “We could go find something in the woods? Ford could research it and Stan could turn it into an attraction.”

“Oh! Great idea, Dipper!” Mabel bounced with enthusiasm, her earlier frustration melting away. “I’ll make them flower crowns and turn them into pretty princesses.”

You raised an eyebrow at Mabel’s statement but decided to focus on the more pressing matter. “Monster hunting…? While I love to agree with you, Dipper, we’d need to be careful. Last time we ventured into the woods, it didn’t exactly go as planned.” You were making a point to the time Dipper, Mabel, and you set out into the woods for what was supposed to be a straightforward search for a unique artifact that Ford had mentioned in his research. According to the old legends, the mirrorstone reveals a glimpse of alternate realities or possible futures. Though, it looks like a plain, unassuming rock. Ford thought it could be a fascinating addition to his collection, and Stan would surely enjoy the story behind it.

However, as you ventured deeper into the cave, you began to notice strange occurrences—whispers in the wind, eerie shadows flitting between rocks, and the sudden chill in the air. Unbeknownst to you, the "mirrorstone" was guarded by a mythical creature known as the Shadow Serpent, a guardian of the forest with the ability to manipulate shadows and create illusions.

As you approached the cave, the shadows around you seemed to come alive, twisting and writhing into serpentine shapes. The Shadow Serpent emerged. The ordeal left you all exhausted but triumphant. But, while you managed to retrieve the rock, which turned out to be even more beautiful than you imagined, the experience left the three of you exhausted.

Dipper nodded, understanding the concern. “You’re right, we need to be careful. But what if we keep it safe and still make it fun? We find something interesting in the woods, and Mabel can still make the crowns. It could make the whole thing more special—and we’d have a good excuse to explore a bit”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled at the idea. “That sounds awesome! We could find something magical and then give it a special place with the crowns.”

You smiled at the compromise, feeling reassured. “That sounds perfect. Just as long as we stay careful—I’d rather not have another run-in with mythical creatures.”

You pulled Dipper aside, lowering your voice. “Hey, thanks for earlier. Mabel was really upset, and you handled it like a pro.”

Dipper blushed slightly, scratching the back of his head. “No big deal. I just didn’t want her to stay upset. And, honestly, exploring Gravity Falls never gets old.”

You smirked, nudging him playfully. “Well, with you around, I guess we’re always in for an adventure. Or at least, a grand tour of ‘Things That Can Go Horribly Wrong.’”

Dipper chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, if you’re going to stick around for all the chaos, I guess I should warn you—my tours come with a no-return policy.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a deal. I’ll just make sure to bring extra snacks and a sense of humor.”

Dipper grinned, giving you a friendly bump. “Perfect. We’ll need both. And maybe a few emergency supplies, just in case.”

As you all geared up, packing essentials and making sure to bring plenty of supplies, the anticipation of the adventure grew. The idea of finding something both incredible and fitting for Random Act of Kindness Day became an exciting prospect.

With the sun filtering through the trees and the crisp air hinting at adventure, the three of you set out into the forest. The peacefulness of the woods was a stark contrast to the thrilling escapades that lay ahead. Birds chirped cheerfully overhead, and the rustling leaves provided a calming backdrop to your journey.

As you trekked over fallen branches and through the underbrush, you chatted excitedly about the possibilities. Dipper and Mabel shared their theories about what the enchanted grove might hold—a squirrel with a tiny top hat and monocle, who speaks in a posh British accent and gives out riddles; or bioluminescent flora that light up the forest with a mesmerizing, otherworldly glow You joined in with suggestions of your own, a staff with a clock-like face that can briefly slow down or speed up time. Maybe finding it could lead to you sleeping in for an extra hour.

The forest seemed to envelop you in its embrace, with the dappled sunlight creating shifting patterns on the forest floor. Mable picked various flowers along the way. Anything that seemed interesting or pretty, such as flowers that glowed in the shade, or a normal daisy. But as the hours passed, the peaceful ambiance gave way to a more ominous feeling. The trees grew denser, the shadows deeper. The path, once clear and inviting, became increasingly tangled and overgrown. Even the sky changed shades. It was once clear and blue, but now storming clouds blanketed the sun.

Dipper paused, consulting his map and muttering to himself about landmarks. “Where even are we? This doesn’t look right…” He avoids stepping on a peculiar mushroom with thorns sticking out of it.

Mabel, her enthusiasm undeterred, continued to weave her flower crowns, her eyes occasionally glancing around for inspiration. “I can’t wait to see what we find! Imagine if we discover something truly magical!” Her large doe eyes sparkle with interest, innocently admiring the sights before her.

“Mabel, stay close,” you advised, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease. “We don’t know what’s out here.” You raised your bat, ready to face whatever might emerge from the underbrush.

After a tense moment, a playful squirrel burst from the leaves, its tiny eyes wide with fear at the sight of the humans and their defensive stances. You all breathed a collective sigh of relief, the tension breaking into nervous laughter.

“That’s one way to lighten the mood,” you said, shaking your head with a chuckle. “I was almost ready to face a dragon or something.”

Dipper laughed, adjusting his grip on the journal. “Yeah, I’d say we’ve had enough dragon encounters for a lifetime.” He tucks his hat lower upon his head, securing the band for fear of losing it.

Mabel giggled, still clutching the flower crows. “If only we could find a dragon that’s friendly and loves flower crowns!” Despite her statement, you sense that she wasn’t willing to sacrifice the gifts to escape a giant lizard.

“Now that would be something,” you agreed with a grin. “But let’s focus on finding something less fiery for the day.”

The forest seemed to hold its breath as you continued, every rustle and snap magnified in the stillness. What had started as an exciting quest was turning into something more intense, with a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air.

Suddenly, the trees parted to reveal a clearing bathed in an ethereal light. In the center stood a grove of ancient, gnarled trees that arched together to form a natural gateway. The sight was mesmerizing but also a bit unsettling. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, hinting at the enchantment and danger that lay ahead. Various circles of mushrooms and pops of colorful flowers decorates the green grass.

It was like a true depiction of spring.

“Flowers!” Mabel dashed forward, her excitement momentarily overriding her sense of danger. Her hair flew behind her as she sprinted towards the vibrant scene.

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper’s voice trembled with concern as he scrambled to catch up to his reckless sister. He glanced at you with wide eyes, the urgency in his expression clear.

You followed closely behind, casting wary glances at the arching trees and the shifting shadows, ready for anything that might leap out to capture the three of you.

Mabel collapsed into the fluffy grass, her hands eagerly plucking various flowers to add to her nearly completed flower crown. Her eye for aesthetic was impeccable as she created a crown that was not only beautiful but also unique. “Look at all these amazing flowers!” she exclaimed, beaming with pride. “This is perfect for the crowns!”

Dipper, catching up, bent over to catch his breath. “Mabel, this place is incredible, but we need to be careful. We don’t know what kind of magic or creatures might be here.”

“Relax, Dipper!” Mabel said, waving him off with a carefree laugh. “It’s just flowers and mushrooms. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Let’s stick together and stay sharp,” you advised. “We’re here to find something cool, not to get into more trouble.”

“Oh quite spoiling my mood, (Y/n)!” Mabel shoos you away, frowning. “You didn’t like my sweaters and now you’re trying to ruin my flower crowns? Don’t you even want to give Stan and Ford anything?”

“Mabel that’s not what I—”

She turns away sniffling. “Whatever. Dipper! Tell (Y/n) that I don’t want to talk to her anymore.”

“Umm…” Dipper looks at you, cautiously hesitating as he decides between you or his sister.

“You know what?” You huffed and walked away, waving a careless arm in the air. “I told you. I was just offering some advice and you’re the one who took offense to it. It’s not my fault you didn’t consider Stan and Ford’s preferences in your gift.”

“What’s that suppose to mean—”

You refuse to hear the rest of her protest as you went further and further away from the twins. Who cares what Mabel thought? You were only trying to be helpful. Stan and Ford deserve a gift that they both like. Not something that Mabel thinks they’ll like.

As you neared a creak of gushing water. The refreshing sounds eases your concerns and you stopped, pausing to consider why you were so angry. “Ugh… What am I even doing?” You mumble exasperatedly, sitting down with a plop. You dip your hands into the fresh water, admiring the way it effortlessly washed away the dirt on your palms. “Mabel’s gift isn’t my gift. I shouldn’t have taken her considerations for others so personally…”

A butterfly fluttered before you, its wings a mesmerizing blend of blue and purple, shimmering in the sunlight as if defying gravity itself. You were captivated by the way its colors shifted with each flap, and instinctively, you reached out a hand to touch it. But just as your fingers were about to brush against its delicate wings, a high-pitched scream shattered the peaceful moment.

“Mabel!” Your heart leaped in your chest as you tore your gaze from the butterfly, dashing back through the underbrush toward the sound. Branches snagged at your clothes, and the forest seemed to close in around you as the scream echoed again, spurring you forward. It was unmistakable—Mabel was in trouble.

You burst into the clearing where you'd left Dipper and Mabel, expecting the worst. But what you found was far from what you imagined. Mabel was there, unharmed, standing amidst a cloud of glittering dust, her eyes wide with wonder. A pair of pixies were hovering above her, playfully tugging at her flower crowns, while Dipper had his backed to to you, shouting and jumping in delight.

The scream, you realized, had been one of delight, not fear. Mabel was giggling, twirling in the grass as the beautiful beings danced around her, their tiny wings leaving trails of shimmering light in the air. They were beautiful, with their iridescent wings and cherubic faces, but there was something unsettling about the way they moved, the way their eyes sparkled with a mischievous, almost malevolent, light.

"Mabel!" you called, trying to keep your voice steady. But she was lost in her own world, completely enchanted by the creatures.

You approached Dipper cautiously, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. He jumped, startled out of his intense focus. When he turned around, a grin spread across his face, wide and almost delirious. "(Y/n)! There you are! Aren’t they amazing?" His voice was pitched higher than usual, his excitement palpable.

"Umm... what's going on?" you asked, taking a step back. Fear laces your senses your boyfriend’s unusual state.

"These are Glimmerlings!" Dipper exclaimed, holding up Journal 3 and flipping to the entry on the creatures. He began to read aloud, his eyes wide with fascination. “They’re tiny, about the size of a hummingbird, with wings that shimmer in every color of the rainbow. They look harmless, almost angelic, but they’re actually really dangerous.”

As he read, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of dread. The Glimmerlings were indeed beautiful, but Dipper’s words painted a darker picture. "They’re fond of stealing small, precious items—things with sentimental value—and hoarding them in their nests. But what’s worse is their ability to create powerful illusions, leading people into traps or making them lose their way in the woods."

You looked over at Mabel, who was now stumbling toward the edge of the clearing, the Glimmerlings hovering just out of reach, giggling as they lured her deeper into the forest. Her hands were empty. Panic flared in your chest. "Dipper, how do we avoid getting enchanted? How do we know if we're already under their spell?"

Dipper glanced at you, the seriousness of the situation finally sinking in. "Probably when we start seeing things that aren’t there... or if we start following them without thinking." His eyes widened as he realized Mabel was already under their influence. "Mabel! Wait!"

Without another word, you both sprinted after her, but the forest seemed to close in around you, the trees growing thicker, the path more treacherous. Mabel’s laughter echoed eerily through the trees, but no matter how fast you ran, she seemed to slip further away.

"(Y/n)... give me... a second..." Dipper gasped, finally stopping to catch his breath, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his composure. You stopped too, collapsing to the ground beside him, your chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

"How could she get so far away?" you groaned, wiping sweat from your brow.

Dipper shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. "I don’t know... Maybe the Glimmerlings are speeding her up somehow?"

"Or maybe it’s just Mabel being Mabel," you muttered, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more sinister was at play.

Dipper pulled out the journal again, flipping through the pages with shaky hands. "Okay, here it is... To break free from their illusions, we need a loud noise or a bright, concentrated light. A whistle or a flashlight should work."

You slipped off your backpack and began rummaging through it. Pulling out a flashlight, you held it out to him. "This should do it."

Dipper smiled, albeit weakly. "Nice, (Y/n)! But we still need to figure out how to get the flower crowns back."

He skimmed through the journal again, nodding as he found the right passage. "We can create a decoy—something shiny or magical. If we throw it near their nest, they might go after it, and we can grab the crowns while they’re distracted."

You pondered your options for a moment, tapping your index finger against your chin. “How about,” you suggested, “We shine the flashlight on the Glimmerlings first to break any illusions, then run back to the meadow, find the nest with the flower crowns, and throw the flashlight to distract them?”

Dipper nodded, but something in the back of your mind nagged at you, a lingering doubt that you couldn’t shake. The forest seemed to grow darker, more ominous, and you realized that the trees around you appeared to be closing in, twisting into shapes that made your skin crawl. The path ahead was barely visible, just a thin trail through dense, gnarled branches that seemed to reach out toward you.

You glanced at Dipper, but he didn’t seem to notice the impending doom. Maybe it’s just exhaustion or the fact that the moon has finally risen while the three of you were trapped in the forest?

Dipper reaches a hand out to help you up. “Let’s go find Mabel, (Y/n).” His grip on your hand tightens, refusing to let it go.

“Yeah…” You smiled weakly. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. As the two of you walked, hand and hand, over and under various obstacles, it seemed as though everything was trying to corner you into a singular space. Like you were walking in circles. What made it even more odd, was the fact that not a singular bird chirped or crowed in the wind, or bugs echoing their calls. It was completely silent.

You tug at his hand. “Wait a minute,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked around. “Something’s not right…?” You couldn’t believe yourself. But your instincts told you that the prying eyes that watched you with delight wasn’t normal, and neither was this odd forest.

Dipper’s eyes widened as he took in your words, and he quickly lets go to flipped through the journal, scanning the pages with growing urgency. “You’re right… this doesn’t make sense. The Glimmerlings create illusions, maybe…”

You both fell silent, the air around you heavy with an eerie stillness. The trees loomed closer, their shadows stretching out like dark tendrils. The overcast sky was barely visible. Panic started to bubble up inside you as the realization hit: you were already under the influence of the Glimmerlings’ magic.

“Dipper,” you whispered, your voice tight with fear, “we need to snap out of this, now.”

Dipper fumbled with the flashlight in his hand, his fingers trembling as he turned it on. The beam cut through the darkness, but it barely seemed to pierce the suffocating gloom around you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Mabel’s laughter, faint and distant, drifted through the air. She sounded so far away, but something about the way her voice echoed didn’t feel right.

“That’s it!” Dipper exclaimed suddenly. “The illusions—they’re warping our perception of distance and direction. We’re not as deep into the forest as it seems.” Immediately, Dipper shined the light up, and the darkness seemed to flicker, like a screen glitching before resetting. The twisted trees and suffocating shadows wavered, then began to dissolve like smoke in the wind. For a brief, disorienting moment, the world around you warped and shifted, and then—

The illusion shattered.

The dense, menacing forest melted away, replaced by a much more normal sight of trees and rocks. Even the sunset sky became visible. There were Glimmerings floating above the two of you, they screeched in pain as they struggle to remain stagnant in the air against the light. They began to fly further and further away as Dipper waves the flashlight, disappearing beyond your sight.

Relief flooded through you, and you let out a shaky laugh. “Nice one, Dipper! You saved us from glittery doom.”

Dipper grinned, a bit of his usual confidence returning. “Hey, I’ve got a thing for solving supernatural problems, remember? Besides, someone had to keep us from getting lost in fairyland.” His hands were sweaty and so he hid them behind his vest to wipe them.

You smirked, nudging him playfully. “I’ll give you that. But let’s not celebrate too soon. We still have to find Mabel and get those crowns back.”

Dipper’s smile faded slightly as he nodded, the weight of the situation settling back in. “Yeah, you’re right. She couldn’t have gone far—probably just ahead.”

You both pushed forward, urgency driving you. “Come on, Dipper, we’re almost there.”

Just as the trees gave away to an opening, your heart nearly stopped when you spotted Mabel—she was standing less than ten feet away at the very edge of a steep cliff, teetering dangerously close to the brink. The Glimmerlings fluttered around her. their eyes were upturned in delight, trying to coax her into the deadly drop below.

“Mabel, no!” you shouted, sprinting toward her with all the speed you could muster. Dipper was right behind you, the flashlight’s beam bouncing wildly as he ran.

“Mabel, stop!” Dipper yelled, his voice cracking with panic.

But Mabel seemed entranced, her eyes glazed over as she reached out for the Glimmerlings, oblivious to the danger she was in. The creatures snickered and fluttered just out of her reach, luring her closer to the edge.

You knew you had to act fast. “Dipper, shine the light on them—now!”

Dipper skidded to a stop just a few feet from Mabel, aiming the flashlight directly at the Glimmerlings. The beam of light caught them in mid-flight, and the effect was immediate. The creatures shrieked in high-pitched, unearthly voices as the light struck them. They scattered in all directions, their shimmering wings leaving behind trails of glittering dust as they fled.

The moment the Glimmerlings’ hold on her was broken, Mabel stumbled forward right over the cliff, her eyes widening in shock as she realized how she was going to plummet down straight to her death. You lunged forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to safety, your heart racing as the adrenaline surged through your veins.

“Mabel!” you gasped, holding her tight. “Are you okay?”

Mabel blinked, dazed but unharmed. “(Y/n)? Dipper? What just happened?”

Dipper was panting, his face pale with fear, but he managed a shaky smile. “You almost took a very bad fall, Mabel. But we got you.”

Mabel’s eyes filled with tears, and she hugged you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to play with them. They were so pretty.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, smoothing her hair. “We’re all safe now. But let’s get out of here before those things come back.”

A long moment passes as the you held Mabel tightly. You couldn’t believe that you almost lost her. This is probably how Dipper felt when the dragon whisked you away in its jaw.

As you and Dipper helped her up, one of your arms wrapped securely around her waist while Dipper’s other arm supported her shoulder. Mabel wasn’t injured, but the near-death experience had left her shaky and unable to walk steadily. The three of you made your way back through the forest, and it quickly became apparent that there had never been a beautiful clearing with arching trees—it was all an illusion conjured by the Glimmerlings.

Just as you helped guide Mabel over a fallen tree trunk, Mabel gasped in surprise. Startled, your head whipped around, expecting to find a Glimmering, but there wasn’t one in sight.

“W-What is it?!” Dipper’s voice cracked with panic.

“The flower crowns!” Mabel suddenly pulled away from the two of you and pointed frantically in the direction you had just come from. “Those pesky fairies took the flower crowns I was going to give to Grunkle Stan and Ford…” Her lips pursed in a shaky pout, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“Oh… it’s just the flower crowns.” Dipper sighed in relief and gently grabbed Mabel’s arm. “They’re just flower crowns, Mabel. You can always make more.”

“No! They were flowers from our adventure! I can’t just give them any other flower crown!” Mabel protested, her voice cracking with emotion. She shook off Dipper’s hand and prepared herself to climb back over the trunk.

A part of you wanted to rip out your hair at Mabel’s stubbornness, but you also understood. To Mabel, her Grunkles were irreplaceable, and they didn’t deserve substitutes or replacements.

Dipper groaned, rubbing the space between his brow as he tried to think of something comforting to say.

You reached out to Mabel and pulled her into a hug. “I think…” You breathed in her scent—a sweet mix of sugary but warm vanilla. “Those sweaters you made for them will mean more than some dirty flowers from the forest.”

Mabel sniffled, still not reciprocating the hug. “But you said they wouldn’t wear them…”

You paused, realizing how your earlier words had hurt her. You pulled away slightly, cupping her cheeks in your hands and rubbing your nose fondly against hers. “Who cares what I think? Beautiful sweaters from their favorite niece will last longer than flowers that’ll decay in a few days.” You smiled warmly at her. “Besides, Dipper was right. It’s the thought that counts.”

As Dipper approached, he hesitated for just a moment before stepping into the hug, his arms wrapping around both you and Mabel. "You know, (Y/n)'s right. Those sweaters are awesome, Mabel. Stan and Ford are going to love them."

Mabel sniffled again, a small smile breaking through her pout. "You really think so?"

You nodded, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Absolutely. And even if they don't wear them all the time, they'll always treasure something made by you."

Dipper added with a grin, "Plus, I bet they'll rock those sweaters when no one's looking."

Mabel let out a small giggle, wiping away her tears. "Maybe I'll make matching ones for Waddles too."

You laughed softly. "Now that would be a sight to see."

Dipper groaned. “Waddles in a sweater? Don’t you think it’s kinda weird to make sweaters for a pig?”

Even as the three of you laughed merrily, the embrace lingering as you held onto each other, the warmth of the moment made the chaotic adventure feel worthwhile. The tension of the day seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together. The birds finally cawed as they flew from tree to tree, squirrels danced in circles as they fought over nuts, and the bugs crawled along the dirt in search of food. It was a completely normal and unassuming hug.

Then, out of nowhere, you heard a loud, unmistakable sound of a fart.

“Oops! Sorry…” Mabel grinned, looking both sheepish and proud. “It’s my body’s way of saying it’s dinner time!”

“Ew, Mabel!” Dipper groaned, taking a step back with an exaggerated look of disgust. “Seriously?” Despite his protest, his eyes sparkled with laughter, unable to hide his amusement.

You tried to stifle your own laughter, teasing, “Shouldn’t it be your stomach making noise? Not your butt?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved to see the Mabel you knew and loved was back to her usual self.

Mabel just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Hey, when nature calls, I answer! Besides, it’s a gift.”

“A gift?” Dipper raised an eyebrow, pretending to be horrified. “What kind of gift is that?!”

“Yeah, we’ve had enough surprises for one day,” you added, shaking your head with a grin.

Mabel giggled, wrapping her arms around both you and Dipper again. “I love you guys, even if you can’t appreciate my talents!”

After the laughter died down and the three of you finally released each other from the hug, the forest around you seemed to settle into a peaceful quiet. The chaos of the day felt like it had been left behind in the clearing, replaced by a warm, contented silence.

Dipper was the first to break the quiet, looking around with a thoughtful expression. “We should probably start heading back,” he said, glancing up at the sky. The moon was out. “We’ve had enough adventure for one day.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a twinge of tiredness in your legs. “Yeah, let’s get out of here before something tries to eat us.”

With that, the three of you began making your way back through the forest. Dipper walked ahead, occasionally turning around to make sure his two favorite people were following, while Mabel chattered happily about all the things she wanted to do once you got back to the Mystery Shack. You listened with a smile, glad to see her enthusiasm hadn’t been dampened by the day’s events

Eventually, you could see the familiar outline of the Shack in the distance. The sight of it brought a wave of relief—finally, you were almost home. As you approached, you could hear the faint sounds of Stan and Ford arguing inside, their voices rising and falling in what sounded like a heated discussion. They paused abruptly when they spotted the three of you through the window of the gift shop, safe and sound, and their expressions shifted from concern to a mix of relief and confusion.

As you reached the patio of the tourist gift shop, Grunkle Stan rushed out, his arms wide for an embrace. He pulled the twins into a tight hug. “You three had us worried sick! What were you guys doing out there?”

Ford followed shortly behind, his hands in his pockets and his glasses perched high on his nose. His expression was a mix of sternness and concern as he glanced between you and the twins. “And where have you three been?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of reprimand.

You glanced sheepishly at the twins, who seemed momentarily frozen with fear. You could practically feel the weight of Ford's gaze. “Um…” you began, trying to choose your words carefully. “You know… exploring…? In the… woods…?”

Stan held the twins out at arm's length, his face etched with a mix of relief and exasperation. His voice was higher than usual, laced with a note of panic. “Kids! Didn’t I tell you how dangerous it is out there?!”

Dipper and Mabel both looked down, their expressions a mix of guilt and fatigue. Stan’s eyes softened just a bit as he saw how exhausted they were, but the worry remained in his voice.

Ford stepped in, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses. “Exploring can be risky. Especially this late in the day. Who knows what could have happened?”

You took a deep breath, stepping forward to ease the mounting tension. “We did run into a few... complications. But we’re all okay now. And, um, we have quite a story to tell.”

“Grunkle Ford, Stan! Don’t be so hard on us.” Mabel steps out, hands behind her back as she gives him the largest eyes in the world. “We were only trying to have fun.”

“There are better—safer, ways to have fun.” Ford’s scowls, clearly not falling for her puppy eyes.

Dipper pitches in hastley. His arm is around Mabel’s shoulders and he then reaches out to grasp your hand. “Next time, we’ll be more mindful of our safety. Promise.”

Ford and Stan raises an eyebrow at you and Mabel, expecting a unanimous agreement. The moment you and the brown haired girl echoed “Promise,” Stan’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his concern was still evident. “Just... next time, listen to the warnings. I don’t want to be dealing with any more close calls.”

Ford gave a reluctant nod, his stern expression softening slightly. “We’ll talk about it more later. For now, let’s get you all inside for a shower and dinner.” They stood ushered you guys inside, and then followed suit.

After the three of you got cleaned up, the aroma of Stan’s cooking wafted through the air as the group settled around the dinner table. Stan had outdone himself with a hearty meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. A difference from the usual ice cream for dinner. The comforting smell mixed with the sounds of plates clinking and utensils scraping as everyone took their seats.

Stan poured himself a generous serving of gravy and glanced at Dipper and Mabel. “So, what exactly were you kids up to today? You looked like you were through the wringer.”

Dipper exchanged a glance with Mabel, a subtle signal passing between them. Mabel’s eyes darted around the room, and she quickly shoved a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, her cheeks puffed out and her eyes slanted sideways.

“Yeah, um,” Dipper said, his voice slightly strained as he took a large bite of his meatloaf. It seems like he also thought stuffing his face would avoid the question, because when he realized that his silent Grunkles were awaiting a reply, he choked out a reluctant response, “You know, just some harmless wandering around.”

Ford raised an eyebrow, leaning in with an analytical look. “You didn’t get up to anything too... unusual, did you?”

Mabel, caught between chewing and swallowing, managed to mumble through her full mouth. “Nope, nothing unusual at all! Just saw… dirt… and trees...”

Stan’s eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely convinced.

Dipper gave an awkward chuckle, clearly uncomfortable with the way Mabel answered the question. “No, really. We’re fine. Just had a few... challenges, but nothing we couldn’t handle.” He glances over to you, his eyes pleading for help.

Just as your fork pierced a slice of meatloaf, it slid off your fork and clattered to your plate. You cleared your throat and interject. “So! What were the two of you up to today?”

Ford and Stan seemingly buy into the switch in discussion, and the conversation shifted to less intense topics—like the latest gossip from town and upcoming events.

As the meal wound down, Stan cleared the table, grumbling good-naturedly about the absence of dessert, while Ford retreated to his laboratory with a napkin filled with jot down inspirations he found during dinner. The twins and you gathered into their bedroom, the comfortable space filled with the soft glow of a lamp.

Mabel, pulled out her knitting supplies and set up a cozy corner on her bed. Her fingers moved swiftly and skillfully, the rhythmic click of the knitting needles filling the room as she finished up the identical sweaters.

The tinkering sound of needles clicking together as they tied strings of yarn filled the room. Occasionally, the turn of pages from Dipper notebook and the soft murmurs beneath his breath would join along. You were busy rustling a random shopping bag filled with ribbons, stickers, markers, and plastic gift bags.

As she worked, she chatted animatedly, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "So, what do you think we should give Stan and Ford? I mean, the sweaters are awesome, but we need something to go with them."

You sat cross-legged on the floor, organizing a small assortment of colorful ribbons, preparing to cut them, while Dipper lounged on Mabel’s bed beside her, flipping through a notebook filled with ideas. The room was warm, lit by a soft glow from a string of fairy lights draped across the walls.

“Okay, what about this?” Dipper began, his eyes brightening as he looked up. “I was thinking of setting up an outdoor spot with blankets, snacks, and a small fire pit. We could roast some marshmallows over a campfire and share stories under the stars.”

Mabel’s fingers never paused as she worked on the final touches of the sweater. She glanced up with a wide grin. “Ooo, sounds like someone’s trying to impress a certain someone,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I have great ideas,” Dipper shot back, feigning innocence. “Plus, I thought you loved s’mores, Mabel.”

His sister giggled, playfully nudging Dipper with her elbow. “Only if you don’t burn them like last time. Seriously, how do you mess up a marshmallow?”

“Hey, that fire was really unpredictable!” Dipper defended, turning towards you with a mock pout. “Back me up here, (Y/n).”

You laughed with Mabel, glad that their playful bickering was lifting everyone’s spirits. As Dipper looked at you with those wide, expectant eyes, you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“Well, Dipper,” you began, tapping your chin, “I think you might have been a bit distracted... but not by the fire.” You smirked, enjoying the way his cheeks turned slightly pink. “But hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Dipper rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Mabel snickered, nudging him. “Looks like you’ll have to redeem yourself with those s’mores, bro.”

You grinned, deciding to shift the conversation to your own idea. “Speaking of redeeming ourselves…” You reached into your backpack and pulled out a small glowing leaf you’d been keeping aside. “Hmmm… I wasn’t exactly prepared for Random Act of Kindness Day, but I did find these bioluminescent plants in the forest earlier. I thought it’d be nice to make glow-in-the-dark muffins with them.” You held up the leaf, its ethereal glow illuminating your face. “Plus, I’ll wrap them up in cute little bags tied with ribbons. It’ll be like giving them a piece of the forest night sky.”

Mabel’s eyes widened with excitement. “That’s so cool! Imagine the look on Stan and Ford’s faces when they see them!”

Dipper smiled, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. “Glowing muffins? Now that’s something they’ll never see coming. You always find a way to surprise me, you know that?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you replied with a wink.

Dipper’s face flushes red, but his grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, the sound of crickets chirping in the night and the exhaustion of the day's adventure began to settle in. The soft rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of the curtains created a peaceful atmosphere. You could barely keep your eyes open, signaling that the gates of dreamland were opening wide. Slowly, the moon reached its peak in the sky, casting a silver glow over the room as the three of you tucked yourselves into bed. Mabel snuggled up alongside Waddles, her soft murmurs barely audible as she drifted off to sleep. You nestled into Dipper’s arms, feeling the comforting weight of his embrace. It was soft, warm, and familiar—everything you wanted it to be and more.

The soothing snores combined with the occasional creaks from the old floorboards, lulled you deeper into your dreams. The night passed peacefully, with the warmth of Dipper’s body against yours grounding you in the safety of the Shack.

When the first rays of the sun crept through the curtains, gently warming your face, you stirred awake. Groggily, you opened your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim room. As you rolled them around to moistened the socket, you felt the stare of another. Your gaze flickered over, finding yourself face-to-face with Dipper. His eyes were already open, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As he noticed you waking up, his mouth parted slightly in a silent “oh.”

It seems like he’s been caught admiring you while your eyes were closed.

“Who’s the sleeping beauty now?” he teased, his smirked with amusement.

Your face softened as you mumbled something incoherent, not quite ready to leave the warmth of his embrace. You tucked yourself in further against his chest, the scent of pine and a hint of his laundry urged you to linger in the moment a little longer.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice a gentle rumble that echoed through his chest. His hand moved up to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion.

“Ugh,” you grumbled, feeling the warmth of his laughter vibrating against you. “You’re such a dork, Dippin’ Dots.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the soft morning light making everything feel a little bit more magical. Wrapped up in each other, the world outside the Shack felt like it could wait just a little longer.

Unfortunately, before you could fully bask in the peaceful morning, the door burst open with a loud bang. Mabel, brimming with energy, dashed into the room and leaped onto the bed, her laughter ringing out like a bell. "Rise and shine, lovebirds!" she declared, tugging at the blankets and yanking both you and Dipper out of bed.

"Mabel!" Dipper groaned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to resist her enthusiasm.

"No time for sleeping in! We've got a whole day of kindness to spread!" Mabel insisted, her voice filled with excitement. She grabbed your hands and pulled you both up, practically bouncing with eagerness. "Come on, come on! We’ve got a lot to set up before everyone arrives!"

As you stumbled out of bed, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, Mabel’s infectious energy was impossible to resist. After speed running your morning chores, the three of you quickly got to work, setting up the cozy outdoor spot Dipper had planned. Blankets were spread out, snacks arranged in baskets, and the small fire pit was prepared for marshmallow roasting later in the evening. Your cooled muffins were placed inside personalized bags set on a picnic table, each tied with a colored ribbon representing a person.

By the time Soos and Wendy arrived, they were tasked with the leftover decorations. The two of them shared their own acts of kindness. Soos, ever the handyman, had crafted personalized wooden trinkets for everyone, each one etched with a special memory he shared with the person. Wendy, with her cool and laid-back style, had put together a mixtape of everyone’s favorite songs, perfect for playing in the background as they all spent the day together.

You guys shared a casual chat, catching up on the missing times and events. You and Dipper were sitting on a log, blowing up balloons while Soos was balancing himself on a ladder, trying to hang up a banner.

Soos grinned broadly, his eyes shining with excitement. “Dudes, this is like, the most epic Random Act of Kindness Day ever! You guys really know how to throw a party. I’m totally gonna eat those glow-in-the-dark muffins later. They look like they’re straight out of a video game!” He rubs his stomach, almost stumbling a bit as he leans too far forward.

Wendy, leaning casually against a tree, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you guys nailed it. This whole setup? Super chill vibes.”

She gave Dipper a playful wink, smirking. “You’ve got some serious planning skills, Pines. Maybe you should do this more often.”

“Haha…” Dipper shares a shy smile. He rubs the back of his neck, glad that his idea brought smiles and laughter. “Honestly, I couldn’t do this without you guys.”

Suddenly, you hear the distant sounds of voices approaching. With upturn eyes of delight, you gesture for everyone to get into position.

“Come on! Hurry! Hurry!” Mabel urged gleefully, practically bouncing on her toes as she tugged along Ford and Stan. Both men chuckled behind her, trying to keep up with their energetic niece.

Stan’s voice called out, full of warmth and curiosity. “Alright, alright, we’re coming! What’s all the fuss about?”

Ford, adjusting his glasses and grinning, added, “I have to admit, you’ve got my curiosity piqued. What’s this all about?”

The moment they rounded the corner, a burst of excitement awaited them. Dipper and Wendy blew party blowers with wide grins, while you and Soos threw handfuls of confetti into the air. Mabel let go to run over, joining you. “Surprise!” you all shouted in unison, your voices echoing through the clearing.

They stood there. Shocked. Stan’s eyes widened in delight as he took in the scene—an outdoor setup complete with blankets, snacks, and a small fire pit ready for marshmallow roasting. Ford’s stern expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Pausing for a moment as tears welled up in their eyes.

It seems like their hearts were soaring.

“Do you guys like it?!” Mabel exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “This is like the best surprise ever isn’t it?!”

Stan, ever the tough guy, tried to hide his emotion, but the gleam in his eyes gave him away. “You kids really went all out, didn’t ya?”

Ford nodded, looking genuinely touched. “Indeed. This is… quite something…”

Wendy laughed, giving Soos a high-five. “Aww guys!” She shoots finger guns at the old men. “Ford and Stan, you two deserve all this and more. It’s like you’ve got your own personal fan club now!” Gesturing at the scene, it really does seem like a party.

Stan chuckled, trying to keep his cool. “You know, I might have to admit this is one of the best surprises I’ve ever had. You kids really do know how to make a guy feel appreciated.” He seems to want to say something more.

Ford, noticing Stan’s struggle to find the right words, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s clear how much thought and care went into this. It’s not just about the gifts or the festivities—it’s about the thoughtfulness behind them.”

You all stood there, basking in the warmth of gratitude and love. It seems like no one knew what to do next.

Seeing the tender moment, you decided it was time to shift gears. With a spark of mischief in your eyes, you stepped forward and flashed a bright smile. “Alright, now that we’ve got the heartfelt stuff out of the way, how about you two join us in the fun? We’ve got games, music, and of course, lots of snacks. What do you say?”

Mabel’s grin widened as she picked up on your cue. “Yeah, we’ve got a whole evening planned. And trust me, it’s going to be a blast. Plus, we can listen to the tracks Wendy made!”

Soos literally jumped in, adding his own enthusiastic flair. “I call dibs on those marshmallows and muffins!”

With everyone now gathered around, the night sky glittering overhead, the mood was set for a cozy, celebratory evening. As the fire blazed wildly, its warm light dancing across everyone's faces, everyone sat down on the logs, ready to enjoy the festivities.

Time passes and everyone bellies began to bulge from sweets and treats. While the fire crackled, the group exchanged their gifts, and laughter filled the air. It seemed like Mabel hadn’t just made sweaters for her Grunkles; she had crafted identical ones for everyone! As you all shrugged on the bright green attire, it felt like you were part of a colorful, quirky family of green people.

Your glow-in-the-dark muffins were a hit as well. Everyone enjoyed the sweet flavor with a hint of tang. It even looked cool as they shone in the dark night. Though, you swore that Soos ate too many and his eyes began shining like flashlights.

Mabel leaned over, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she observed Soos. “Soos, are you sure you don’t have superpowers now? You’re looking pretty electrifying!”

Soos, trying to look serious but failing miserably as his eyes flickered like strobe lights, replied, “I dunno, Mabel. I didn’t realize these muffins came with a side of superpowers! If I keep eating them, I might start charging my phone just by standing near it.”

The group burst into laughter, the playful banter adding to the joy of the night.

Dipper chuckled, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’ve got a new competition for the most glowing personality in Gravity Falls.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, at least we know Soos won’t be getting lost in the dark anytime soon. Just hope he doesn’t start glowing in his sleep!”

Lastly, Stan and Ford had their own acts and gifts to share. Stan handed out coupons with a large step forward and a flourish, proudly declaring, “Get ‘em while they’re hot! Free knick-knacks for everyone!”

Dipper had a stupid smile as he blankly looked at the coupon, and then stared at Grunkle’s Stan’s proud expression. “Wow… I am never going to use this.”

It seems like everyone simultaneously agrees silently as they shoved the piece of laminated paper into their pockets. As for Ford’s gift, Ford begins with a warm smile, “I wanted to add my own little touch to the evening.”

As Ford hands out the personalized stargazing charts, each one meticulously wrapped in celestial-themed paper, Stan unwraps his with a bemused expression. He glances at Ford, raising an eyebrow.

“Look at this,” Stan says with a playful smirk. “My brother, the ultimate nerd, giving us star maps. Did you expect us all to become astronomers overnight?” He nudges his twin brother until Ford’s glasses falls crooked to one side.

Ford adjusts his glasses, his smile unwavering. “Well, you don’t have to keep it, Stan. I just thought it was a nice touch to remember the night sky from a special day. There’s even a booklet with some fun facts and a few anecdotes.”

Stan chuckles, shaking his head but clearly touched by the gesture. “Sheesh! Alright, alright. Guess I’ll just have to figure out how to use this thing now.”

Silence falls upon everyone as they continues to admire their stargazing charts, murmuring interesting facts and observations they found. Stan suddenly brightens up with a mischievous glint in his eye. He clears his throat, preparing to deliver his punchline.

“Hey Ford,” Stan calls out, practically to no one as he faced forward, “Since you’re so into the stars now, I’ve got a joke for you. Why did the astronaut break up with his girlfriend?”

Ford seemingly wants to groan, but he smiles knowingly and curiously says. “I don’t know, why?”

“Because he needed space!” Stan says with a grin, clearly proud of his joke. He swings a hand to smack his knee loudly, clearly delirious by his own joke.

The group bursts into laughter, and even Ford can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Out the corner of your eye, you notice that on your chart there was the Big Dipper. Just as you reached out to trace it with your finger, the actual Dipper clears his throat beside you. He’s not directly looking at you as he asks, “Do you have a moment, (Y/n)?”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Sure! What’s up?”

He gestures with his thumb towards a secluded spot under a tree, away from the lively group. “Can I talk to you over there?”

You glance around and notice that no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. They seem too caught up by Stan’s awful jokes. “Uhh… okay?” You follow him, slipping away from the laughter and chatter. As you walk, the warmth of the party fades, and the chilly night air makes you shiver. You pull your sweater closer, glad that it’s well knit to keep the cold out

Once you’re a few feet away from the group, Dipper takes a deep breath, clearly gathering his courage. The cool breeze rustles the leaves overhead, adding a subtle background to his nervous fidgeting. “So, um…” Dipper kicks a small rock with the tip of his shoe, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I got you something. I know it isn’t much, but I thought you might like it.”

He shyly pulls out a small, intricately crocheted keychain from behind his back. It features a charming mix of a crocheted Waddle, a tiny plastic pine tree, and a sparkling shooting star. Each piece combined to create a personalized keepsake that perfectly encapsulates the twins.

Dipper’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as he looks away, mumbling, “I thought it might be nice to have something to remind you of… well, of us.” He gestures to his sister and then himself.

You’re touched beyond words. You take a moment to admire the intricate details of the keychain, lifting it up to eye level, and feeling a rush of affection in your chest. It was like a bundle of nerves collecting into the pits of your stomach. “Thank you, Dipper. It’s perfect. I love it.”

His nervous smile softens into a genuine one as he meets your gaze. “I-It’s nothing. I’m glad you like it.” The tips of his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with the shade of pink.

As you and Dipper make your way back to the party, you notice him glancing at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. “You know, (Y/n),” he begins with a smirk, “if you keep looking at that keychain with that much adoration, I might start getting jealous.”

You raise an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “Oh, really? And why would you be jealous of a little keychain?”

Dipper chuckles, shrugging dramatically. “Well, it’s not every day that you get overshadowed by a tiny Waddles and a plastic shooting star. I’m starting to feel like I’m in the shadow of a bunch of craft supplies.”

You laugh, leaning closer to him. “Don’t worry, Dipper. You’re always the star of my show. Even if your competition includes a crocheted pig.”

Before Dipper can respond, Mabel’s voice rings out, cutting through the playful banter. ““Hey! You two lovebirds! Come here!” Maybel shouts enthusiastically. She’s jumping up and down with a camera in her hands to capture your attention.

You and Dipper glance at each other, your smiles widening. “Looks like we’re needed,” you say, taking his hand.

“Guess the star has to share the spotlight,” Dipper replies with a wink as you both head back to the group.

Mabel, standing in the middle of the gathered crowd with her camera, waves enthusiastically. “Come on, come on! Everyone gather around!”

You and Dipper make your way back to the campfire. Ford and Stan stand in the back behind a long, thick log, the former adjusting his glasses and the latter with his arms crossed, trying to look nonchalant but clearly enjoying the moment. Soos is to Stan’s right, grinning ear to ear, while Wendy crouches down to sit next to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You take Dipper’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready for this?”

“Absolutely,” Dipper says with a grin, squeezing back as Mabel directs everyone.

“I’m going to take a picture! Everyone say, ‘Random Act of Kindness Day!’” Mabel calls out, setting the camera on the make-shift camera holder using yarn, popsicle sticks, and glitter. She tiptoed to start the three-second timer and as the seconds ticked down, she grabs Waddles, who happily snuggles in her arms with a loud oink, and rushes over to sit next to her brother.

One…

Ford flashes a rare hint of a smile while Stan grins from ear to ear. “Ever notice that posing for photos is like holding your breath? The longer you do it, the harder it is to remember why you’re smiling.” He mutters, though his eyes betrays a glimmer of delight despite his smile dropping momentarily.

Two…

You shoot him a look of concern. Man… and you thought Grunkle Ford was weird.

Three!

The camera flashes brightly, the sound of laughter and cheers filling the air as everyone enthusiastically shouts, “Random Act of Kindness Day!”

The photo prints out and gently falls onto the forest floor, the paper swaying slightly as the wind picks up. Mabel shoves Waddles into the secure arms of her brother, her shoes crunch on the fallen leaves as she leaves to eagerly picks up the photo, her smile wider than ever.

She waves the print triumphantly. “Another one for the scrapbook!” she exclaim.

You watch as Mabel’s excitement is mirrored by the rest of the group. With the photo safely in hand, she turns to show everyone, her enthusiasm infectious. They crowd around the jumping little girl, amused by their expressions or asking for a redo. Even Waddles is oinking excitedly as he wiggles out of Dipper’s embrace and runs around the group.

Soft brown hair touches the tip of your head as Dipper leans in closer to you, his voice low and playful. “So, how does it feel to be part of such a perfect day?” His eyes are twinkling.

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It feels pretty amazing. Especially with you by my side.”

[smytherines]

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

[denaliwrites]

What Beautiful Things I'll Wear

Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Doctor takes you to a masquerade ball during the Renaissance.

Soundtrack: Marry Me by Emilie Autumn

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp (I always forget this bit, I'm so sorry!)

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oi! We're gonna miss it!" the Doctor called into the TARDIS wardrobe, startling you out of your reverie.

"You have a time machine!" you snapped back in lighthearted exasperation.

"We can't cross our own timelines!"

"I'm sure there are other balls we could attend, Doctor!"

"Yeah, but this one's got Machiavelli!"

"Wait, seriously?" you asked as you poked your head out of the wardrobe. "The Machiavelli?"

"Yeah," he said teasingly with a big grin. "So hurry up, before the party's over and he leaves!"

You sighed with a roll of your eyes and withdrew back into the wardrobe, adding the final touches to your ensemble in a rush.

Finally, you exited, adorned in a lavish dress of midnight and periwinkle. Sat delicately over your face was a silver wolf mask, which hid an equally wolfish smile. "How do I look?" you asked, giving the Doctor a twirl for effect.

He stood in silence, simply taking you in for a few moments. He looked somewhat awestruck, eyes wide and full of something you couldn't quite put a fully accurate name to. And the smile he gave you -- it was adoring in the way his smiles often were when he was faced with humanity's charm and brilliance. But it seemed deeper than that. More personal. Intimate.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Doctor?" you prompted him gently.

He blinked back to himself and his smile easily slipped into something more casual. "You look stunning," he told you as he held an arm out for you. There was still something in his voice that tickled your senses, but you left it, eagerly taking his arm. Without further ado, the two of you were off to the ball to meet Machiavelli.

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

Machiavelli had turned out to be a rather boring individual.

Well.

That wasn't fair. He just wasn't the kind of man you'd expected the writer of the Prince to be. He was a lot more mild, comparatively, and didn't seem to possess any of the traits that you, in your modern attitude, would consider Machiavellan.

Except maybe the way he seemed rather eager to get to know you biblically.

You swore, if he cooed one more "good lady" or "lovely mistress" or "darling girl" in your general direction, you'd lose your mind.

The worst offense, though, was that he'd separated you from the Doctor. You'd tried looking for him, but he'd seemingly vanished entirely from the ball.

Tired, lost, exasperated, you made your way to a bench out on a nearby balcony and flopped gracelessly onto the seat with a groan. It had already been such a night, and now all you wanted was to crawl into your bed.

You groaned again as a shadow fell over you. You turned, fully expecting to see the Machiavelli there to hound you into another dance.

Instead, you saw... nothing? But also something.

It cast a shadow, so you knew that there had to be something physically there. But as you looked, it seemed to shimmer and glide right out of your field of view, like the dancing dapples of light on the surface of a pool.

You'd spent enough time with the Doctor to know when things were a little... off. You weren't sure if this was the work of a perception filter, or something similar, but it definitely wasn't normal and it definitely wasn't human.

And it definitely wasn't throwing you off the trail.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a voice called out. "Don't!" You turned again to see the Doctor running towards you.

There was a sudden sting as something slid into your neck, and then heat spread out from the injection, dazing you. You heard the Doctor calling your name, even felt his hands on you, but couldn't see anything other than the shimmering man behind you.

"What have you done to her?" the Doctor shouted. You were startled, you felt it, yet your body didn't move. "Whatever you did, fix it! Cure her!"

You could feel the heat spreading. It felt like fire, razing through your veins like an inferno. You had the sense to know it should hurt, yet you felt no pain. Even so, you knew that without some kind of antidote, it'd kill you.

The Doctor seemed to know that too.

"Please," he said, and you realized he'd moved on to begging. "Please. Not her. Let me save her." Begging for you. For your life.

You watched as the entity produced something new -- it still shimmered, never letting you get a good look at it, but as it slipped into your neck you realized it was another needle.

This time, the plunger sent ice into your veins. It moved quickly, eating up the fire and leaving you shivering... but alive. You realized as the ice spread that, not only were you wracked with tremors, but you could move your own body voluntarily. You lifted your arms with difficulty and wrapped them heavily around the Doctor's neck. And gently, he tipped your head forward so that your eyes were finally on him.

"Doctor," you whimpered. "About damn time..."

He laughed a little at that, though it sounded hollow and the smile that came with it didn't reach his eyes. "Fashionably late as ever, eh?" he asked gently.

Your head lolled when you tried to nod. That made him laugh again, and that time it didn't sound so hollow.

"What did you do to her?" he asked the shimmering man again. There was no reply, and you almost thought that maybe the strange entity had left.

"She required correcting," a dozen voices said at once.

"Correcting?" the Doctor asked, pulling you closer protectively.

"The female carried disease. It's now eliminated, and she is corrected."

"Disease?" you and the Doctor asked simultaneously.

"She is corrected." With that, there was a whoosh behind you, and you knew that whatever that thing was, it was gone.

The Doctor stayed with you until you'd recovered, holding you close and stroking your hair with one hand while the other rubbed circles into your back.

Once you could move without fumbling like a ragdoll, he helped you to a stand and guided you towards the door.

Music still played in the ballroom, though most of the attendees had filtered out and the party was definitely in its final throes. Machiavelli, blessedly, was gone.

The Doctor brought you to a halt in the middle of the room and turned towards you with a light smile. "May I have this dance?" he asked, and though he tried to sound casual, you could hear that deeper note in his voice once again.

"You may," you answered thoughtfully.

He began leading you through the steps of a waltz you didn't recognize, but it wasn't too hard to pick up. You imagined he'd chosen something that would be easy for you, in case any effects from your "correction" still lingered.

"Doctor?" you murmured into his ear after a while of dancing in silence.

He hummed in acknowledgement, and you could've sworn his arms around you got tighter.

"You've seemed... a bit off, for a while... is everything okay?"

"Oh... everything's wonderful," he answered, and you could hear in his voice that he meant it. He shifted his arms so that he could cradle your face in his hands, one on your cheek and one on your neck, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where the entity had injected you with those strange substances. "Everything's perfect, in fact."

"Y-yeah?" you asked, looking into his eyes, your own wide as he watched you with such intense and bare adoration.

"Yeah."

You didn't pull away as he leaned forward, didn't move back as his lips pressed to your own. It was a sweet and tender kiss, the kind of kiss that sent an entirely different kind of warmth through your veins. You smiled sweetly into it, and you could tell the Doctor felt it as you felt his lips quirk up in response.

He pulled away, and while you leaned into his chest with a contented sigh, he peppered little pecks over your bare shoulders in reverence.

You stayed like that, swaying gently in a dance not from your planet, to music not from your time, up until the moment the band stopped playing.

[jsdimensions]

II 16 is making me think. A lot.

This recent episode made me think of "Alternate Reality Show." Not the other timeline - with this twist, that's its own can of worms now - but specifically Lightbulb and Test Tube traveling back to episode 1.

I haven't watched that episode in a while, so I can't be too sure about this, but I can't help but wonder if there's anything we can get from it. It was right before episode 13, so I wonder if the time travel stuff has any significance?...

Actually, I wonder if some of the stuff Test Tube has done has significance in general. Some of her inventions definitely fall into the "cartoonish shenanigans" category...does this mean anything for her? Did Mephone plan any of that out, or did she do that on her own?

Think about it: Cobbs, presumably, has created the most high-tech...well...technology in the Inanimate Insanity world. Test Tube is able to invent things on a similar level effortlessly, with the sparce amounts of materials given to her! She even created a new kind of phone for Fan out of Cobbs' invention!

And this isn't even MENTIONING Bot, who is very similar on a technological level to the Mephones. In fact, was Bot's entire arc foreshadowing for this very moment? They were created, found out they weren't real, and found a new sense of self through that. Will Suitcase and Knife - hell, maybe even the rest of the contestants - undergo something similar? Will Bot have any involvement in the next 2 parts? Bot has the same colors as the Shimmer that Fan adopted. Does that have significance, too?

And what does this mean for Test Tube? She's always been portrayed as a mirror of Cobbs, and Bot only accentuates that fact. For one of many examples, Test Tube is like a loving mother to Bot, while Cobbs was...well...the opposite of that towards Mephone. Will this be explored further in any way?

I'll ramble more about other characters later if I think of anything to talk about. For now, II Good, II is very good, and I'm a fan now.

[dandylovesturtles]

Whats Draxum’s redemption arc in sideline look like (if he even gets one lmaooo)

thanks for the ask! this got long so I'm putting a lot of it under a cut

at this point, I have committed to Draxum's redemption arc in Sidelined, because I like Draxum and I love a good redemption arc haha. That said, as I've said a few times before, it wouldn't be easy for him, and it definitely wouldn't go down like in the show, where Mikey just kind of drags him into it. he'd have to work for it himself

it's probably good to start this by talking about my own interpretation of Draxum and the Draxum characterization I'm working with in this AU. while I love a good Evil Bastard Draxum, in canon I read him as more of one of those people who truly believed he was the hero so hard he tipped over into villainy on accident. which doesn't mean he didn't enjoy what he was doing, and he's definitely uncaring of the lives around him (he's got some of that mad scientist spark), but in contrast to the Foot Clan who are actively trying to subjugate the whole world (presumably under the belief that they'll get to be the top brass in the new world order), Draxum is actually just trying to save his people. a noble end, even if the means he's choosing involves eradicating another race of beings entirely. and I'm generally of the belief that if Draxum had actually kept the turtles, if he had been in charge of their raising, he might have initially started out thinking of them purely as warriors to be molded for his aims, but eventually would have come to see them as their own people, as children (yes, it's entirely possible to raise children and still have disregard for them as people, but I'm giving Draxum the benefit of the doubt in this one).

however, Draxum didn't raise them from babies - they just showed up at his house one day, raising weapons against him and blowing up his lab. so he's still thinking of them purely as warriors - young and inexperienced warriors, sure, but warriors nonetheless. he's not really thinking about how they're only teenagers, about how they might have dreams and wants and needs that have nothing to do with fighting, how they actually love and care for each other as a family. I said this in another ask, but Draxum thinks the idea of them calling each other "brothers" and Lou Jitsu "father" is actually laughable. in his mind, it's just pointless to even read any kind of family structure into their relationship. they are at most superiors and subordinates.

when Draxum put Leo in the Dark Armor, Splinter saw it as his fourteen-year-old son, his Baby Blue, being tortured and possibly killed right before his eyes. Draxum saw it as sacrificing a pawn in front of a general.

of course, callous disregard for a living person is bad no matter how you see it, but there's still a definite difference in perception here.

it's not until 1, Draxum realizes he was horribly wrong about what the Armor is and what the consequences of awakening it are, and 2, he witnesses the way the family reacts to what is happening to Leo, not as group of warriors down a man but as a family desperately trying to save a loved one, a piece of themselves, that it finally clicks for him what he's done.

Draxum goes on a long soul-searching retreat after that (he's also hiding from the Hidden City government but that's a side note). how could the love he had for his people drive him down such a dark and reckless path? how could he not see what was right in front of him, until he caused serious damage to the place he was trying so hard to save? how could he be so callous to someone who, annoying as he may be, is ultimately innocent?

initially he does this soul-searching far away from the Hamatos. he still has his powers in this timeline, so he makes do with stealing and finding places to take over and live. but at some point he starts thinking, maybe he wants to try and make amends for what he did, even if it's in just a small way. and even with his humbling he's still a little full of himself, so he's like, of course this ragtag bunch would want the help of Baron Draxum

(they do not)

so he starts by trying to give them practical help. he can imagine that Leonardo has significant medical issues following his time in the armor, and while it's not his primary field he knows enough about healing draughts to get by, and while there's no magic potion that will "fix" Leo, there are ones that can help with the pain and fatigue, in some ways better than human medicines, and that can help strengthen his immune system. He tries to give these to the Hamatos (specifically Mikey and Donnie while they're out scavenging one day) and gets pretty soundly rebuffed. Donnie is in "kill on sight" mode, and while Mikey is more likely to at least hear Draxum out, he also has no reason to trust anything the man gives them, especially when he suggests they feed it to Leo. so they don't take the offerings initially. Draxum eventually settles for leaving them in a cache near one of the sewer tunnel entrances, if they want it.

and then Leo gets really sick, and is in a lot of pain. Leo's immune system, like everything else about his body, is pretty weak following the armor, and he can't fight off the flu or an infection as well as he could before. so Leo is sick and in pain and Donnie and Mikey remember the cache of healing potions.

(I actually considered writing this fic awhile back and then never did haha, but here's what I had in my notes for it:

Splinter kneels on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, Blue. We'll get you more medicine soon."

Leo reaches one hand out and Splinter takes it quickly. "Daddy," he whines, tears starting to roll down his cheeks, and oh, Donnie realizes, Leo really is hurting.

He quietly and casually deletes the last ten minutes of audio in his recordings. No one else needs to hear this.)

again, they aren't stupid - they aren't just going to feed Leo some random potions given to them by the guy that hurt him in the first place. but they can go find out if the potions are legit. so time for a trip to Witch Town!

they probably have some kind of misadventure while they're there (I'm imagining Mikey is joining Donnie and April this time), but they do manage to ascertain that the potions are legit. still, they end up getting the same potions made by someone else instead, just in case. but they remember that Draxum did try to help them, that time.

I imagine this happens several times, where Draxum just shows up to help them, they tell him to get lost after, before it starts to sink in that maybe Draxum is actually trying to turn things around. I don't think it ever quite gets to "Mikey calling him their second dad" level, but they do start to accept him as a begrudging ally and eventual weird uncle.

he has to seriously and sincerely apologize to Leo first, though. and Leo doesn't want to forgive him at first, and that's okay. these things take time.

anyway that's all. thanks for the ask again!

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

We've reached the stage with this one where I'm just gonna say we should keep watching for the ratings and enjoy the pretty gifs.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I got to watch episodes 5-8 of the new season this week, and I promptly lost my mind over how good this show is. It somehow got even better between seasons; the creators have some things to say about the experiences of women under heterosexual patriarchy. I already wrote about Kasuga's family trauma storyline and how much it meant to me, but these episodes also gave us Nomoto's ongoing queer awakening and journey to define her sexuality, the introduction of a new queer bestie in Yako, a better understanding of Nagumo and the careful and steady deepening of her relationship with the gals, a new confidant for Kasgua in Fujita, and Nomoto and Kasuga inching ever closer to defining what they are to each other. The world of the show and the support network around our leads continues to expand, and I am loving every moment. This drama is excellent and I cannot implore you enough to go to @furritsubs and catch up.

My Strawberry Film

Kicking off the last Drama Shower show of the season! This is a high school story featuring a classic trio—the Pining Gay, the Chaos Bisexual, and the Budding Lesbian. Obviously, I love them. I like the mood of this one—it's quite a tonal shift from the last show in this series—and the color grading is blue, blue, blue. And there's a mystery afoot as they try to track down the beautiful girl captured on film. Looking forward to more!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

I continue to love this show, though I am not entirely sure how I feel about the turn things took with Mizuki this week. I did not really want this to go the full blown love triangle route; I am more interested in a version of this story where Sakae and Soga try to figure out these adult complications from the foundation of being in a relationship, not with the constant interference of a third party. So few dramas are willing to get the couple together early and let them face things together rather than constantly playing the will they, won't they game, and I was hoping Sukidoya was going to be one of them. That said, I like that Mizuki is sticking around in the story because he's an interesting character, and I like the conflict with Soga's job (we have a preponderance of Japanese shows about unreasonable work conditions airing atm) and the temporary nature of his time in Osaka. That he's worried about eventually leaving tells you all you need to know about how much he likes and respects Sakae. If he felt casual about him he would not be worried about complications that far down the timeline. Let's see where they take this love triangle thing next week; I'm hoping it will be brief.

Perfect Propose

Great episode this week, and I love the way they continue to deepen the backstory for these two. Hiro being the first person to need Kai rather than pity him makes so much sense for their dynamic and why Kai would be so attached to him. And of course, when Kai returns the situation is the same; Hiro definitely still needs him. I love that they took a source of shame for Hiro and turned it into a reason why he and Kai are so compatible. Kai wants to take care of him—and he's not the only one! Loved seeing Hiro's coworkers express concern for his well-being and recognize how this job is grinding him down and breaking his spirit. It was so validating to hear from another high performer that the job is miserable and he should quit. It has nothing to do with failure; as Kaneko said, it's about seeking the life he truly wants. He sees Hiro's talent and knows he will not be able to flourish in this hellish work environment, and I thought it was so kind and compassionate of him to try to help Hiro see that. Also shoutout to Hiyori for sitting her ass back down and missing the last train when she realized prime gossip was about to arrive to her table, she's just like me fr.

Ossan's Love Returns

We are clearly in the drama spiral for the season now, and this show seems to be coming for my beloved Kurosawa. Thanks, I hate it! But the show found its humor again this week even as the sad plotlines for the side characters continued, and I was very happy to see it back in top form. I loved this story with Maki and Haruta caring for Goro for the week, and how it affirmed for them that they are actually not interested in having children. I told @bengiyo and @twig-tea when we saw last week's preview that Maki seemed like the type who wouldn't like children, and I was glad to see that affirmed by the show, and crucially, that he didn't change his mind via the power of Goro's cuteness. Not all people want to be parents, and it's so nice and refreshing to see a loving couple decide they just want to focus on each other, and that you can like kids and spend time with them without needing to have one of your own. I loved, too, that we got some focus on Chizu's struggles as a single mom, and her family rallied around her and made it clear she has support. Takegawa's sudden not-at-all-selfishly-motivated interest in polyamory was hilarious, as was Chief's journey to figure out what was causing his stress—until it wasn't, of course. I was glad Chuoko was with him when he got the news. And I am really hoping that rooftop kiss was Kiku's goodbye, and we will be seeing him move on from Izumi soon.

Bonus: Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai 

Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for giffing this show and reminding me I still hadn't seen it! It was not accessible to me back when it came out and it fell off my radar for awhile. I watched today and thought it was just delightful. A short, sweet, warm hug of a friends to lovers high school bl with two very lovable leads. I highly recommend checking it out.