#Unconventional Love Triangles

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Yellow Ribbon

Fandom: DC Comics, Young Justice, Flashfam, Superfam

Summary: Conner's been best friends with Bart ever since they met at the carnival when they were children. The problem is that Bart can't remember meeting Conner that night. But Thad does...

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Clark Kent, Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Bart Allen, Thaddeus Thawne, Don Allen, Meloni Allen, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Kent, Max Crandall

Relationships: KonBart, KonThad, Clois, MelonixDon, Ma/Pa Kent

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, Mistaken Identity, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Twins, Lies, Stolen Moments, Unconventional Love Triangles, Misunderstandings, Childhood Friends, Complicated Relationships, Family Dynamics, Family Bonding, Best Friends, Secret Crush, Autistic Bart Allen, Autistic Thad Thawne, Thaddeus Thawne Gets a Hug, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Third Person POV, Hurt Clark Kent, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love, Farm/Ranch AU, Farmboy Conner Kent, Grandparents and Grandchildren, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Romance, Light Angst, Strangers to Lovers, Cyrano, Jewish Superfam

Chapter Thirteen: Sweet Dreams

Clark woke the boys up early, smiling at how peacefully they slept in Thad’s bed. “Hey, fellas. We’ve got a big day planned,” Clark whispered. Thad sat up and wiped his eyes with his palms. He glanced down at Conner and smiled. Conner rolled out of bed and hugged Clark before heading to the bathroom. Thad was relieved that Conner didn’t explain why he wasn’t in his bed. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m alright now… I couldn’t sleep,” Thad confessed. Clark crouched beside the bed. 

“Bart, I know it can be tough being this far from home. I’m not even from this country. Did you know that?” Clark asked. Thad shook his head. “I was born far away, but I was raised here by my Ma and Pa, and they taught me one very important thing. A house is a place but home is just a bit of you scattered in meaningful places. I hope you can make this place one of your homes this summer, Bart.”

Thad didn’t completely understand, but it stuck with him. “Mr. Kent?” Thad whispered. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Thank you for coming. Conner’s so happy to have you here,” Clark smiled, “Now, you should go and get ready.” Thad nodded.

**

Thad and Conner sat on top of the spider climber in the park, and Thad lost his balance and grabbed Conner’s arm. Conner held his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’ve got you,” Conner whispered. 

Thad puffed out his chest, holding his breath as he tried to figure out something tough to say, but he couldn’t find anything. So, he said something genuine instead. “I don’t know what I’m gonna be when I grow up… I don’t know why it scares me so much,” Thad confessed, “I wanted to live… But I don’t want to grow up. I’m scared of what will happen when I do.”

Conner frowned. “I think we’ll be friends when we’re grown up,” Conner whispered. And it took the weight off of Thad. 

“How are we gonna get down?” Thad asked. 

Conner giggled and let go of Thad’s hand. “Okay. I’m gonna go first, and you follow me,” Conner replied. He turned around and started climbing down. Thad waited until Conner was on the ground before he started climbing down after him. His foot slipped, and he yelped as he fell backward. Conner caught him and fell on his back. Clark and Lois rushed over, and Conner started laughing. 

Thad rolled onto his hands and knees and started apologizing profusely. “Conner, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Thad asked. He helped Conner up and dusted the wood chips off. 

“I’m okay. You’re not that heavy,” Conner reassured him. 

Thad saw Conner’s scraped elbow and held back tears as he reached into his bag for his first aid kit. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he turned Conner’s arm over to get a better look. He sprayed Conner’s elbow with antiseptic and wrapped his arm. “Does it hurt?” Thad asked. Conner shook his head before hugging Thad. 

“I’m okay, Bart. I’m okay,” Conner whispered. 

**

Thad took a picture of Conner cutting apples at the table. “Feel better?” Conner asked. Thad nodded. “You sure?” 

“I’m okay. Hey, I was thinking about what you said earlier. Do you really think you’d want to be friends with me when we grew up?” Thad asked. Conner drizzled lemon juice over the apples he cut and started on another apple. 

“Sure. I wanna be friends with you forever. I think we’ll be friends forever,” Conner replied without looking up, “You’re my best friend in the whole world.” 

Thad smiled, growing quiet as he snapped a picture of Clark while he used a cookie cutter to cut the dough into perfect circles. “You’re my best friend, too,” Thad whispered as he reached for the mood ring around his neck. 

Thad set his camera to the side and washed his hands before helping design the boxes. “What’s the bake sale for?” Thad asked. 

“Oh, it’s not a bake sale. We’ve got a booth at the fair,” Conner answered. He was so heavily focused on his task that he never looked up from his apples except to look at the boxes. “Where’d you learn to draw like that?” 

“My dad’s an artist. I help him paint sometimes,” Thad replied. 

“Do you think you’d want to do art when you grow up?” Conner asked. 

“It’s not a fiscally responsible plan of action,” Thad recited, quoting his other grandfather of the same name. 

Conner knit his brows together, grinning as he looked at Thad. “Bart, I don’t know what that means, but I think you should do what you like,” Conner replied. Thad shrugged. “Too many people live lives they don’t want thinking they’ll get to be happy later. Why not be happy the whole time?” 

“He’s got a point, Bart. Journalism is a hard business to get into, but Clark and I struggled to be the best investigative journalists we could be. If we didn’t take chances on dreams that seemed impossible, nothing in the world would have…”

“Color,” Clark finished Lois’ sentence without looking up from his dough. 

“Besides, you’re good at it already,” Conner added. 

**

At the end of the day, Thad grew quiet while they cleaned up to get ready for bed. “Bart, can I tell you a secret? I’m so nervous about going to middle school. You’re not in middle school yet, huh? You’re only going to sixth grade. Aren’t you?” Conner asked. 

“Oh… Um, my homeschool is K-through-twelve. So, I don’t have middle school or anything like that,” Thad answered. 

Conner took off his glasses and squinted at Thad. “Do you ever get lonely?” Conner questioned. 

“Not really… If I’m not with you, I like being by myself. It’s not so bad,” Thad whispered as he climbed into bed. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if he’d have to tell Conner he was still frightened to sleep on his own. That was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Conner dropped his socks in the hamper and yawned. “When I was eight and you were seven, you got really sick… I asked if you remembered meeting me at the fair. You said no… Do you still not remember?” Conner asked. 

That was the one white lie Thad told Bart. He didn’t want Bart to know he was pretending to be him that night at the fair, so he convinced Bart he was there and didn’t remember. “Uh-huh. You bought me a corndog and gave me this,” Thad whispered as he showed Conner the original mood ring from that night. Conner climbed into Thad’s bed. Thad sank into the pillows, finally able to relax. He squeezed the blanket in his fists. 

“Do you mind if I sleep here?” Conner asked. Thad shook his head. “Do you eat scrambled eggs?” 

“Uh-huh. I love scrambled eggs,” Thad whispered. 

Conner closed his eyes and rolled close to Thad. “I’m gonna make you some eggs tomorrow… Do you miss your family saying they love you before bed?” Conner questioned. 

“A little bit,” Thad whispered. 

“I’ll say it until you go home, then… I love you, Bart,” Conner whispered. 

Thad clutched his chest, wondering why he felt sad. “I love you too, Conner,” Thad whispered. He turned to look at Conner, but he looked like he was already fast asleep. “We love you too, Conner.”

[feu-eau]

The pipeline is real.

[chronicsyd]

so i have mentioned the whole "Ella Purnell (Jinx's VA) crying doing lines for Jinx" and how a lot of people think it's possibly a Jinx death or something and I previously said I didn't think so, but another thought crossed through my head that's just as traumatic and could possibly (no, Probably) lead to tears:

Vi inevitably choosing Caitlyn over Jinx in S2.

First hear me out, of Course i know that it doesn't Have to be this way; Vi clearly has enough love in her heart to love the two equally. but Jinx and the show choose to show this Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn dynamic as a uhhh... "Unconventional Love Triangle" to put it simply. Sevika puts the thought of "Vi replacing Jinx" early on and because of Jinx's trauma she chooses to believe that this Is true. However, the actions she takes in the show actually has the opposite effect of what she wants, pushing Caitlyn and Vi closer together.

So when it comes to episode 9, Jinx feels that VI is the one who must choose between the two. It's either Jinx, or Caitlyn. And by choosing to not take action at all, Jinx believes that her fears are confirmed and that Vi is choosing Caitlyn over her. now we know that this isn't true because even after Caitlyn frees herself and both the blue girls have each other at gun point, Vi is the one desperately trying to get Caitlyn to Not shoot Jinx, despite the other not seeing what Vi sees. Caitlyn does Not see Powder in Jinx (in fact i don't think she really ever has, but she knows that family is important to Vi which is why she doesn't say anything on the bridge when the two part ways for the first time). But it's Especially why she says to Vi, "She's too far gone".

Unfortunately, with the way that i think things are going in S2, the beginning i think Vi is still going to try to go after Powder, despite us knowing that Powder practically died in episode 9 (I also think that she's also dealing with the guilt that Cassandra's death specifically (because she probably doesn't really care as much about the others but she cares about Caitlyn and Caitlyn losing her mother is going to be Rough) is at Jinx's hands and she still holds Vander's "Whatever happens, it's on you" to heart despite it not being true), meanwhile Caitlyn feels that a solo "Caitlyn V Jinx" mission is going to end up with one of them dead, and she knows that either outcome is going to be terrible for Vi (because as i said before, Caitlyn no longer see's Powder, she see's Jinx and Jinx is a threat). And I think that actions from Both Jinx and Caitlyn are going to Force Vi's hand to Make A Choice.

and i think that come end of S2, she is going to side with Caitlyn.

(Of course i could be Totally wrong with this, but of all things I've said about S2 so far this is actually one of the things I'm sadly, more confident about)

[lettherebechaos]

finally checked out oathbound!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET BREE NICK AND SEL BE POLY

[lemonlimestar]

desperately need whatever was going on with cassie, kon, and tim in tt03 (I DO NOT)

[ckret2]

Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist. 

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. 

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room. 

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream. 

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here." 

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it. 

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

[venussaidso]

Venus nakshatra natives

in arranged polygamous relationships/strange love triangle dynamics, list of films.

Challengers (2024)

Savages (2012)

Bandits (2001)

Two Girls and a Guy (1997)

Doom Generation (1995)

Design for Living (1933)

The Vampire Diaries (2009)

In Roman mythology, Venus — the goddess of love, sex and beauty — had multiple lovers. Venus rules relationships and can be associated with indulgence in pleasure. These media concepts are interesting with this Venus influence, as they explore themes of desire and attraction in an unconventional way (yes falling in love with two guys who are brothers is definitely an interesting choice).

[truevedicastrology]

LILITH POSITIONING ACROSS ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS AND HOUSES

LILITH IN ARIES/1ST HOUSE: With a captivating physique, X exudes ambition and competitiveness, yet occasionally appears a bit cheeky. They carry an air of confidence, occasionally perceived as provocative, yet harboring subtle insecurities. Intimidation comes naturally to them, driven by an intense focus on goals. Embracing rebellion, they stand out, and their presence is hard to ignore. X embodies the spirit of someone unafraid to voice opinions, akin to the student who speaks up to the teacher. Their allure extends to a desire for personal transformation, perhaps even considering changes in appearance.

LILITH IN TAURUS/2ND HOUSE: X navigates a world marked by materialism and occasional self-reflection on body image. Issues surrounding food and self-esteem surface, creating a unique journey. Others might envy them for their magnetic charm and allure. Financial boundaries become a grey area, and their choices may not align with traditional moral values. X, with a captivating face and a mesmerizing voice, grapples with a constant hunger for more, never fully satisfied.

LILITH IN GEMINI/3RD HOUSE: Always ahead of the curve, X possesses a way with words that others envy. Sibling dynamics might stir jealousy or comparisons. Sarcasm and clever storytelling are their forte, accompanied by a unique sense of humor. Dark thoughts may cross their mind, and early school experiences shape a somewhat unstable outlook. X sees through people with a sharp tongue, occasionally causing conflicts but showcasing an insightful nature.

LILITH IN CANCER/4TH HOUSE: A nomadic life defines X's experiences, marked by family conflicts and maternal influences. Their journey involves female rivalry, emotional insights, and a quest for a sense of home. X grapples with the complexities of motherhood, either desiring it intensely or feeling the need to avoid it altogether. The influence of a mother figure lingers, leaving traces of rejection.

LILITH IN LEO/5TH HOUSE: X has a taste for unconventional art and may express themselves through creative endeavors. Custody battles and challenges with their own children mark their path. X desires attention, occasionally facing judgment for their self-expression. The stage becomes a platform for rebellion, with a fixation on pleasure and occasional struggles with addictive behaviors.

LILITH IN VIRGO/6TH HOUSE: X approaches life with a critical lens, often seeking recognition for their efforts. Body image becomes a focal point, either through their own scrutiny or the judgment of others. Their service-oriented nature sometimes leads to overcommitment, and they may grapple with extreme views on diet and exercise. The Lilith journey includes experiences with healthcare and a nuanced relationship with hygiene.

LILITH IN LIBRA/7TH HOUSE: X navigates love triangles and occasionally experiences passive-aggressive dynamics. Their charm attracts Lilith-influenced partners, and they may feel incomplete without a significant other. Relationships involve subtle power dynamics, and X might project Lilith qualities onto others. They face challenges such as infidelity and being left for someone else, shaping a complex romantic narrative.

LILITH IN SCORPIO/8TH HOUSE: X exudes power and a touch of mystery. They possess profound psychological insights and occasionally intimidate with their intuition. Privacy is paramount to them, and they may engage in unorthodox behaviors. Fear of exposure lingers, leading to intense reactions from others. X's Lilith journey involves topics like mortality, taxation, and an exploration of intimate relationships.

LILITH IN SAGITTARIUS/9TH HOUSE: X encounters challenges related to religion, education, and socio-economic backgrounds. They may hold strong opinions and rebel against tradition, leading to a sense of being an outcast. X's journey involves a struggle for acceptance and rejection, shaping a unique perspective on cultural dynamics.

LILITH IN CAPRICORN/10TH HOUSE: X becomes a subject of public fascination, carrying an aura of the unconventional. Fear of failure and challenges in professional relationships shape their journey. Lilith dynamics contribute to occasional scrutiny and accusations, adding layers to their professional narrative.

LILITH IN AQUARIUS/11TH HOUSE: X aligns with unique social groups, occasionally facing envy and drama. Friendships involve triangular dynamics and the occasional betrayal. X might avoid conformity and engage in rebellious activities, shaping a distinctive social journey.

Follow our Facebook page Mage Magic Touch for personal consultations https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61565561190268

[shmlnbstrcnd]

Season 2's attempts to parallel Caitlyn and Silco with surface-level imagery were so funny, because there is an actual parallel between them that makes sense, that the writing fumbles. Caitlyn and Silco play a similar role in the narrative as the "rival" in the love story of Vi and Jinx. In season 1, the sisters are embroiled in two unconventional "love triangles". There is the Vi-Jinx-Silco triangle, with Vi and Silco fighting over influence on Jinx, who is stuck in the middle. And there is the Jinx-Vi-Caitlyn triangle, with Jinx and Caitlyn fighting over influence on Vi, who is stuck in the middle. Silco is who Vi sees as the Enemy. Silco represents the embodiment of the undercity's violence to Vi, the Chembaron who killed Vander. And Caitlyn is who Jinx sees as the Enemy. Caitlyn represents the embodiment of Piltover's violence to Jinx, the enforcers who killed her parents. Silco and Caitlyn are the Boogeymen to the sisters. Both sisters project all their fears and hatred onto Silco and Caitlyn respectively, and even go overboard to the point that their views are not necessarily true - after all, Silco wasn't mind-controlling Jinx and Caitlyn wasn't purposely trying to steal Vi.

Nonetheless, this is the way season 1 paralleled Caitlyn and Silco. It doesn't matter that the relationships are not exactly the same (with Silco and Jinx being paternal and Caitlyn and Vi being romantic). They still occupy a similar role in the story - the competitor, the "other guy", the rival to one sister for the other sister's affection. This is why they were both at the dinner party. And in the end of season 1, Vi and Jinx find that they have grown too far apart, that they are no longer compatible as sisters, because their loyalties and priorities no longer lie in the same place. They "break up" essentially, and the love rivals Caitlyn and Silco have "won". Caitlyn has Vi staying with her, allying with her, and rejecting Jinx. And Silco has posthumously convinced Jinx to keep being Jinx, carry on his wishes to burn Piltover, and reject Vi.

The show then fumbled this in 2 ways: the first is obvious - they just completely reversed and abandoned the effects of the season 1 finale LMFAO. Jinx quits being Jinx 3 episodes in, Vi quits being an enforcer 3 episodes in, then Vi and Jinx are besties again by episode 5. They just threw the 9 episode arc that season 1 built up into the garbage. But that's tied to a larger issue with the season - the abandonment of the Piltover vs Zaun conflict to make way for a cringe Age of Ultron rip off.

The second way that the show fumbles the Silco and Caitlyn parallel, is this: Caitlyn is not a believable enough rival for Vi's affections in the same way that Silco is for Jinx's. Through the cleverly used timeskip in season 1, Silco and Jinx have years of bonding between them. Jinx has spent almost as many years with Silco as she did with Vi. And Silco spoils her. He defends her, protects her, comforts her, and never raises a hand to her. Throughout season 1, I could buy that Jinx was so conflicted between Silco and Vi. And even then, she still chooses Vi a lot! On the other hand, Caitlyn and Vi have just met a few days ago. Vi barely knows this woman. And Caitlyn in season 2 treats her like shit. She insults her, hits her with a gun, abandons her, and ignores her for months. I do NOT buy that Vi is this conflicted over Caitlyn and Jinx, and I don't buy that Vi would choose sex with Caitlyn over going after her clearly grieving and mentally unstable sister.

Seriously, the show pushes the narrative that Vi is stuck in the middle between Caitlyn and Jinx. Caitlyn is supposed to be the person that Vi longs for and this romance is supposed to compete with her sisterhood with Jinx. And yet, I DON'T BUY IT. Caitlyn does nothing for Vi to prove to me that her love can compete with the sisters' bond. Caitlyn is someone that Vi just met, who physically and verbally abuses her. And this is a huge issue. If Silco were to hit Jinx in the stomach, insult her blood, then ditch her for months on end, I wouldn't have bought that Jinx would ever give a shit about him enough to compete with her sister. Funnily enough, Jinx is the one who was violent towards Silco when she was enraged and in pain. But we all know, if Vi had been the one to hit Caitlyn in a fit of rage, there would be way less people willing to forgive her compared to how quickly people forgave Caitlyn lol.

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

What it’s like to be loved by SKZ

Chan "Like being wrapped in the warmest, safest hug—except he’s also making sure you drank water, paid your bills, and know he’d die for you."

This right here is a true partnership. It’s balanced and harmonious, and filled with communication. You always have a shoulder to cry on and warm arms always ready to embrace you. His love is intense and deep. All-consuming, even. Once you have him, you truly HAVE him. This is a relationship built off a lot of trust. Hes also very adventurous and enthusiastic, and will want you to grow together. Though you’ll also be held to very high standards. Hes very critical, and a perfectionist. If you don’t meet his standards or expectations it’s a major issue. However, he likes practicality and expressing his love through acts of service. He likes being relied on, and having someone to care for. He also has a deep-rooted desire to nurture others, and wants a soulmate-level partnership built off equality. Being loved by Chan is harmonious, intense, passionate, free, full of adventure, and truly just so full of overwhelming love and connection.

Minho "A romance novel where the main characters are obsessed with each other, but also somehow in a dramatic love triangle with their own emotions."

He’s very intense and passionate. Very loyal and possessive. He wants you to be one, to the point where it’s honestly hard for you to maintain your own sense of identity, but he also withdraws and keeps a lot of secrets. Talking with him is very deep, and his love is truly deep-rooted within him. He’s adventurous, and loves freedom. He’ll share that with his partner. The type who loves to travel with his partners. He’s also very practical and detail-oriented in love. He also has a lot of hidden and dark desires, and needs a deep and soul-bonded commitment. He wants you to be wholly each other’s. Everything will be a new adventure, and it’d overall be very passionate.

Changbin "He loves you in 4K Ultra HD, but good luck deciphering his emotional subtitles."

He’s warm, generous, and loyal. He loves showering his partners with affection, and is just very practical and service-oriented in love. And just overall is a very kind partner. A built-in hype man, even. He’s practical, though, and another one who enjoys acts of service. He likes to be there and do things for his partners. But he’s also intensely passionate, and again loves deep connections. He’s also a definitely free partner, as well as nurturing, and wants his partner to be both a close friend and a lover.

Hyunjin "Like dating a genius, a poet, and a mad scientist all at once—passionate, chaotic, and sometimes you have to remind him that sleep exists."

Being loved by Hyunjin is very romantic and dreamy. He’s compassionate and sensitive, and definitely the type of romance that includes you waking up on anniversaries to roses, breakfast in bed, and a painting of you he’d been working on. He’s very empathetic. He also enjoys showing love in little actions, and acts of service. But he’s also very direct and assertive. Passionate and impulsive, showing the world his love while also not being way too much. But he also has a strong desire for control. He also has a strong desire for freedom, and wants a love that’s still spontaneous.

Han "Luxury treatment, acts of service, and spontaneous existential crises at 3 AM—true love with a side of drama."

His love is very practical and harmonious. He’s balanced and fair, while also very sensitive and empathetic and in-tuned with his partner’s emotions. Hes your number one hype man. Admiring and pampering you constantly. He’s warm and he’s generous, though he likes control. He still wants the relationship to be free and unconventional, something uniquely yours, and loves just being around his partner and yapping.

Felix "Like winning the emotional lottery, but also somehow starring in an action movie where you never know what’s coming next."

His love is a lot like Han’s. It’s practical and harmonious, but it’s also very enthusiastic and direct. Very impulsive and spontaneous, and just so independent. He’s warm and generous, and like Han likes hyping up and pampering his partners. Spending time and spoiling them, keeping them close to him. He loves a free and unique romance, and again just loves to yap to his partner and bask in their presence.

Seungmin "Equal parts best friend, worst influence, and biggest fan—if love could be a rollercoaster designed by a chaotic mastermind, it’d be this."

It’s very practical and harmonious. Highly domestic, even. He’s emotionally sensitive, and overall a very secure partner. He’s nurturing and protective, and loves looking after his partners and making sure they’re alright. He’s practical and detail-oriented, planning out the best most perfect dates catered to his partners likes. Making sure it’s all amazing for them. Another who likes free and unique love, and can have a desire for control.

I.N "Solid as a rock, protective as a guard dog, and occasionally judging your life choices with a single glance—love, but make it intense."

His love is very intellectual and independent. He’s not overbearing with it, and values the freedom and individuality of both parties. He’s warm and generous, and he loves having mutual admiration in his relationship. He’s also just very direct and enthusiastic. His love is strong and it’s passionate. It’s also very intense, and so so deep. But it’s also free and rebellious, and just very romantic and he almost idealizes his relationships. And he values strong mental connections.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Yellow Ribbon

Fandom: DC Comics, Young Justice, Flashfam, Superfam

Summary: Conner's been best friends with Bart ever since they met at the carnival when they were children. The problem is that Bart can't remember meeting Conner that night. But Thad does...

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Clark Kent, Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Bart Allen, Thaddeus Thawne, Don Allen, Meloni Allen, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Kent, Max Crandall

Relationships: KonBart, KonThad, Clois, MelonixDon, Ma/Pa Kent

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, Mistaken Identity, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Twins, Lies, Stolen Moments, Unconventional Love Triangles, Misunderstandings, Childhood Friends, Complicated Relationships, Family Dynamics, Family Bonding, Best Friends, Secret Crush, Autistic Bart Allen, Autistic Thad Thawne, Thaddeus Thawne Gets a Hug, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Third Person POV, Hurt Clark Kent, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love, Farm/Ranch AU, Farmboy Conner Kent, Grandparents and Grandchildren, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Romance, Light Angst, Strangers to Lovers, Cyrano, Jewish Superfam

Chapter Twelve: CRAYDL

Conner looked around the airport until he saw Clark. “Dad!” Conner shouted. Clark ran to him, flashing the employee his ID. Clark embraced Conner and smoothed his hair back. 

“Were you scared?” Clark asked as he looked Conner over. 

“I cried a little bit when the plane went up in the air… But, it wasn’t so bad,” Conner answered sweetly, shrugging off the last remaining bits of anxiety. Clark crouched near Conner and held him tight before kissing Conner’s forehead. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You must be tuckered out,” Clark whispered. Conner nodded. 

He held Clark’s hand and breathed through his nose. “Dad, where’s Mom?” Conner questioned. 

“Picking up your surprise,” Clark answered, “Hungry?” 

“Uh-huh… Wait… What surprise?” Conner questioned. Clark pointed to Lois holding a familiar little boy’s hand. 

Conner looked up at Clark as if asking for permission. “His parents wouldn’t have sent him if it wasn’t okay. Go say hi to your friend,” Clark grinned. Conner released Clark’s hand, running to his friend at full force before picking him up. 

“Bart, what are you doing here?” Conner questioned. 

Thad swallowed hard as he wrapped his arms around Conner, squeezing him in an unusually intense embrace. “My mom and dad said I could stay with you for a few weeks,” Thad whispered, still unable to let go. Conner smiled, waiting until Thad was ready to let go. “I’ve never had a sleepover before. I’m so excited.”

Conner held Thad’s hand. “Now, we don’t have to stop talking early to log off. We could play until we fall asleep,” Conner beamed. Thad and Conner followed Lois and Clark to the car. 

Thad looked out the window at everything. The buildings. The statues. The murals. It was so much on his senses, but he loved every moment of it. “Do you kids wanna get loaded fries and milkshakes?” Lois asked. 

“At Do-Si’s?” Conner asked. 

“You know it, sweetheart,” Lois answered. Thad chewed his lip as he turned to Conner, and he pulled something out of his bag. 

“Can I take a picture?” Thad asked. 

“Sure. And can I take one of you after?” Conner questioned in reply. Both boys giggled and made faces at the little camera. 

** 

At Clark and Lois’ apartment, Conner and Thad lay on the floor together watching TV and drawing pictures. Thad yawned. “Are you sleepy?” Conner asked. Thad shook his head. “Bart, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” Thad replied. 

“How’d you get better?” Conner questioned. 

Thad sat up, politely crisscrossing his legs as he remembered the grueling process. “Someone donated their stem cells to me,” Thad replied. Conner cocked his head before sitting up to listen better. 

“What’s that?” Conner asked. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really… Um, the person who gave me the stem cells had to get a shot every day for five days… And then, after they get their fifth shot, they go and get a needle put in them that takes their blood out and puts it back in, and it does that for a long time. Sometimes that’s uncomfortable. They can’t get up to go to the bathroom or anything the whole time… So, sometimes a nurse has to give them calcium through their blood in a bag, and it makes them feel better,” Thad explained, “But I had to stay in the hospital a little while longer to make sure it worked… And the other person had to stay away from a lot of people too, so they wouldn’t get sick.” 

“How come?” Conner asked. 

“‘Cause it weakens your immune system. If you don’t have healthy stem cells and someone gets you sick, you could be sick for a long time. And if you give stem cells to somebody else, your body has to take time to get strong again. But we’re both okay now,” Thad reassured Conner after seeing the distress in his eyes. 

Conner took a shaky breath before kneeling forward to hug Thad. “I’m glad you’re better. I never forget to pray for you. So, I’m glad it worked. I don’t know what I would do without my best friend,” Conner whispered as he held a startled Thad in his warm embrace. Thad slowly reciprocated, overwhelmed by the amount of affection but not averse to it. 

Thad wondered what it would’ve been like had he told the truth the first time. He wondered if Conner would’ve liked him the same. His lips twitched into a smile, but he wanted to cry. Conner released him and brushed his temple with his palm as if he’d forgotten something important. “Oh! Bart, I go to temple with my dad once a week, but you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Mom said she’d take you somewhere fun if you didn’t want to go,” Conner explained. 

Thad listened to Conner describe temple shortly after that, and he smiled at Conner’s expression. “Can I come and see?” Thad questioned. 

“Sure! I’ll tell my dad,” Conner smiled. Clark entered the room. 

“Tell your dad what?” Clark teased as he sat down on the floor. 

Conner kneeled and placed his hands on Clark’s shoulder before resting his chin there. “Can Bart come to temple?” Conner asked. Clark nodded. “Is it time to go to bed?” 

“‘Fraid so… We’ve got a big day planned tomorrow. And we’re getting donuts first,” Clark whispered, “Brush your teeth, and I’ll be there to turn out the lights and say goodnight in a minute.” 

**

Thad woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, and he reached into his bag, looking for his stuffed animal. “No… No, no, no—.” Thad started to panic once he realized Bart had his stuffie at summer camp when they decided to switch places. 

Conner stirred, turning on his side as he watched Thad struggle for air, and he sat up once he was lucid enough to realize something was wrong. “Bart? Is something wrong?” Conner asked. Thad hugged his knees, hiding his face as he trembled and gasped for air. Conner climbed out of his bed and rubbed Thad’s back. “Do you feel sick? Is it your stomach?” 

Thad shook his head. “It’s embarrassing,” Thad mumbled once he caught his breath. 

“You can tell me. I won’t make fun of you. I promise,” Conner whispered. He stopped and squinted in the dark. “Did you wet the bed?” 

“No,” Thad whimpered as he started to cry. 

Conner climbed into the bed beside him, and he pulled him into a half-hug. “What’s wrong? I won’t laugh at you. I promise,” Conner reassured. Thad looked up at Conner as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“I didn’t bring CRAYDL with me,” Thad confessed. 

“What’s a CRAYDL? Maybe my dad could find you another—.” 

Thad shook his head. “CRAYDL is my stuffie,” Thad mumbled. Conner softened and nodded. 

“I know it’s not the same, but I can sleep in your bed tonight,” Conner offered, “I’m sorry you’re scared.” Thad tried to calm down, so he wouldn’t hurt Conner’s feelings, and Conner climbed under the blankets. 

“You won’t be mad to stay here all night?” Thad asked. Conner shook his head. 

“It’s okay. Try to close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere, Bart. I promise,” Conner reassured him. He shut his eyes, and patted Thad’s knee until he scrunched down in bed and closed his eyes. Conner lay on his stomach, and Thad lay on his back, letting Conner reach over his chest with a gentle but heavy arm.

[ambafaerie]

Acts of Service/Gift Giving: Fiddleford vs. Bill

There aren’t a lot of similarities between Fiddleford McGucket and Bill Cipher besides starting a cult, having a tendency to avoid confronting personal issues head on (Fiddleford manages to develops past this habit - Bill does not), and sharing the same voice actor. But they do both seem to have a fondness for gift giving to endear themselves to people.

The difference lies behind their intent on the giving of these gifts, because whereas Fiddleford does them out of love and concern and to build a genuine connection, Bill often hands out gifts to mortals to make them grateful and look up to him and more liable to being manipulated by him. A prime example of the differences between Fiddleford and Bill’s gift giving is Ford.

Let’s start with Bill’s birthday present to Ford, dead rats that spell the latter's name, an unconventional and alien present which Ford had to explain to Bill why it is is not a proper gift.

Early into their relationship, Bill endeared himself to Ford and this was one of his tactics, offering him companionship and presents to alleviate Ford's loneliness to make him more liable to his manipulations by flattering the scientist with attention and gifts.

Now let’s go with Fiddleford. First, he brought Ford an Axolotl (who might be the actual Axolotl) because the salamander’s frills reminded him of his best friend’s sideburns. Second, there was the Christmas gifts - a snow globe replica of the shack and six fingered hand knitted gloves with patterns - which delighted Ford even though he doesn’t celebrate the holiday.

Like Bill, the gifts Fiddleford made took effort but unlike the triangle demon, Fiddleford gifts them to Ford not out of malicious intent but out of love and concern. He gave Ford Frilliam the Axolotl because he didn’t want him to be lonely when he is gone and worked endlessly to create the perfect six fingered gloves because he wanted to provide his best friend a needed accessory that Ford had trouble finding.

And now comes the best part, Bill’s scientific calculations and Fiddleford’s thesis. Bill completed six hours worth of calculations overnight to help Ford stay on track with the building of the portal, something which sent Ford over the moon. While Fiddleford catalogued Ford’s research for three days without a break into a thesis book Ford could publish to make him multimillionaire which made Ford feel betrayed rather than grateful.

Bill did those calculations to ensure Ford is on track to perfecting the building of the portal so he can he can enter his world and destroy it by hosting a party that never ends and deepen Ford’s admiration of him so he won’t question his true intentions. Fiddleford made the thesis because he didn’t want the world to be destroyed and to convince Ford to become a millionaire through others mean and get his life back on track rather than risk testing the portal. Bill did an act of service to manipulate Ford but Fiddleford did an act of service out of concern for Ford and the world.

Fiddleford gives gifts out of love because he loves the people he gives them to, but Bill only knows how to give gifts not because he loves the other person but because he wants them to worship him.

[hp-hcs]

Hello there.

Since you're taking a request, then maybe some poły relationship with Theo and Mattheo. Preferably male lub gn reader

Thanks and have a good day

aaaaaa a non-monogamous relationship with my two favorite boyos??? abso-fuckin-lutely!!!

polyamorous theodore nott & mattheo riddle x gn!reader headcanons

(lovely pictures from @demieyesore)

since it wasn’t specified if the boyos were dating each other as well or not, i made it ✨up to reader interpretation✨

❕gender-neutral reader❕

TWs: violence (it’s theo & mattheo, what do you expect?), brief sexual harassment/attempted sexual assault (?)

requests open (please for the love of god)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

general headcanons:

mattheo is little spoon and i will take no arguments

(he’s almost always in the middle <3)

if you call theo literally any pet name he will die on the spot

same if you call mattheo any variation of ‘pretty boy’ or ‘cutie’

(extra bonus points if you compliment something unrelated to his physical appearance, like how well he did on a test, or how perceptive he is. homeboy will have no idea how to respond. he’ll just be like 🧍‍♂️🥹👍🫶)

the poly thing actually only happened because there was a very aggressive love triangle thing going on and then they were like “wait this is dumb”

plus, it makes a bunch of the teachers uncomfy, + both of their fathers, so really it’s ideal

they r possessive as F U C K

they can share with each other, that’s it. no one else.

i dare anyone to try to bully or harass you

or actually, even just look at you

OR IF SOMEBODY TRIES TO ASK YOU OUT

someone call an ambulance for the poor fuck 💥🚑🚨🩹🪦💀

lil oneshot thing? idk man:

you go to one of enzo’s stupid parties without your boys

“i’ll be fine guys, promise”

y/n was, in fact, Not Fine™

someone tries to hit on you but just DOESNT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER

let's say it’s cormac mclaggen cause mf is creepy asf

(i know everyone makes him like ‘the bad guy’ but yk what if you don’t like it go write ur own headcanons. they’d probably be better anyways)

anywhore, cormac is like, getting a lil too close for comfort

just kind of haranguing you the whole night

offering drinks, complimenting how you’re dressed, telling you that your boyfriends are “so lucky to have someone as sexy as you”

🤮🤮

you are OBVIOUSLY uncomfortable

but shit hits the fan when he grabs your waist/hip area and tries to kiss you

✨surprise!✨

your mancandy was here the whole time 😌

(not cause they don’t trust you, they just don’t trust anybody else)

💥👊😡🩸🩹🔪🗡️💣

cormac: 🥊🦷😵‍💫🩸🩹🩼☠️⚰️🪦

(lowkey hot to watch em defend you but yk)

((y/n for literally no reason: 👁️🫦👁️)

(((if you tell mattheo you think it’s hot, he’ll just go 🥺🫶💋😚🫂)))

misc:

expounding further on my earlier mattheo x reader headcanons, a scientific study i’ve conducted has found that mattheo riddle is, in fact, a himbo

from the new partridge dictionary of slang and unconventional english, a himbo is “a man objectified by his good looks and presumed lack of intellectual qualities, a man who trades on this image, a gigolo”

objectified by his good looks? have you met tumblr? ✅

lack of intellectual qualities? well, he thinks violence solves everything and thinks with his dick instead of his brain so i’m gonna say yeah ✅

but let’s keep it going, shall we?

a himbo is also defined as the “human version of a golden retriever—beautiful, incredibly well-intentioned, and dumb.”

…yep

beautiful ✅ well-intentioned (in his own mind) ✅ & dumb (lovingly) ✅

additionally: buff 💪 ✅ & respects his romantic partner(s) ✅

“but hp-hcs,” you bemoan. “what does that make theo?”

well, my dear delusionists, theodore nott is a hunk—not quite a himbo, but close

hopefully this venn diagram i made of some of the himbos & himbo-adjacents in the hp world will help illustrate this for you

[mapledkanata]

Overdue Skwisgaar sketches + design notes/hcs! Finally got around to redrawing my fave

+ Skwisgaar has joined the dance floor..... I do think there has been some missed potential for Skwis, Toki and Pickles collective dynamics/interactions. More Skwis and Pickles bein buddies pleas..,,,,.

Some extra Skwis notes and Skwis HCs below the cut for anyone who may be interested:

Design notes!

Slightly darker blue eyes; captures light easily when he's happy!

For eye shapes I thought about Mads Mikkelsen and Magnús Scheving as references! They both have particular facial structures I also thought about in drawing Skwis

Because of his stronger features and pallor, sometimes shadow falls harshly along his features. I find I have to be very careful when rendering his colours and keep his softness

In terms of shape language, Skwisgaar is definitely more like unconventional rectangles than he is triangles!

Decided to give the front peaks of his hair a little more volume

Rather large in proportion but his lean stature makes him unassuming standing alone

HCs!

6'4"-6'5" tall me thinks!

Autistic

He definitely maintains himself and his appearance, but doesn't really have an extensive routine.

Might comb his hair a bit at the front, showers often, is dressed in the morning etc

He also likes to keep his room organized in a particular way; along with his room reflecting a Swedish Modernist style it's incredibly minimalist!

Despite his aloofness, he can be very attentive to the ones he cares for; in other words he's definitely paying attention even when he doesn't seem like he is

He often seen staring past the wall when he's in his own head

He is so borzoi dog.......... often gives intense whale eye to people..

He is a bit of a goober but no one understands his humour 😔

I definitely think he articulates himself better speaking Swedish and has a lot of depth to offer; conversely, he struggles w/ verbally articulating his thoughts and can be generally awkward in a lot of circumstances outside of his reign of interests

Is actually a very grounded individual in terms of his outlook on life, while he often responds very dramatically, emotionally or intensely to certain things (he is so silly!)

So very desperately wants to feel seen and loved for who he is

[circle--of--confusion]

A Breathtaking Affair

Summary:

In an alternate Universe @ficandkaboodle and I have been spitballing, this is a vignette in Reader and Copia's lives. Copia's old nose was a very lovely feeling down there when you two would have sex. Now that it's changed, you miss it. A solution was brought up and you two try it out with unexpected results.

A/N: Thank you for encouraging me to write this, it was so fun. Also, itallian endearments were helpfully provided by @foxybouquet

Paring: Papa Copia x fem!reader

Words: 4.2k

Tags: Explicit! MDNI; Crackfic vibes, established relationship, fluff, smut, hand jobs, oral sex, unconventional sex toys, passing out

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Copia’s face changed when he became Papa. He’s still the handsome man you devote yourself to – and he is devoted to you as well – but there’s something missing from his gentle, wrinkling face. Something that was always a beloved inclusion to the lovely feeling of him going down on you.

When he had plastic surgery to fix the crooked nose he received from an impromptu, clumsy Papa Terzo incident, you mentally mourned the loss of his nosey companion. Terzo was going on and on about how to plan the staging for his next tour when tragedy struck.

“I was thinking of opening with Cirice, eh? Get the crowd going. I’ll dazzle them by showing how wonderful I am.” He gestures outward as if to say you agree, yes? Terzo picks up the small Baphomet statue placed on the table. “Then after I have them in my hands, the next song is Con Clavi Con Dio. BAM! SATAN!”

Terzo lobs the statue forward like a baseball, not realizing his grip wasn’t so secure. It thuds painfully against a grunting Cardinal. Copia.

“Ah shit, Papa!” Copia groans, covering his now bloody nose.

Terzo rolls his eyes. “Stop being such a baby, Fratello. I think I made some improvements.”

Improvements they were not. The following days after the incident, Copia’s nose was swelled up like a balloon. Once it died down, all that was left was a slightly crooked version of his nose from before. You still cooed at him, comforted him after the entire thing and jokingly told him he’ll have to get his revenge when he became Papa.

Copia smirked at you as if he already had something in mind. It was a bit ominous.

Now, as Papa, he decided to get his nose fixed as a “treat yourself” moment in his rise to the Papacy. You supported him in the decision with a small kiss and thought his snoring would probably improve a bit with less bent airways at night while the two of you slept together in his bed. For some reason Sister Imperator tagged along for the ordeal and got a procedure of her own.

After the bandages came off, you had to hide the initial shock of truly how different his nose was. Gone was the adorable, handsome angled protrusion you grew to love. Now he had a regular, slightly curved slope to his nose and the point was more rounded. His jaw was also now more pronounced. It was still your wonderful Copia but it took a minute to adjust every time you saw him the following few days.

Every time he nudged his nose around your face in the mornings, cuddling into you, it was almost as if you felt phantom touches of where the former would’ve grazed as he kisses over your face and further down.

For a couple weeks, any sharp angle had you sighing wistfully. Triangles made you sad. A wedge of cheese at dinner one time nearly made you whimper.

Now, finished with his healing and with a little bit of free time at night from not being on tour, you hatched a plan. You figured there was one way you could get your favorite toy back. Copia caught you grinning to yourself as he came back into his bedroom from the bathroom.

“What has you smiling like that amore mio? It better not be something other than me.” Copia teased, crawling towards you on the bed. He sits back against his pillows and leans over to kiss you. Rising a hand to your cheek, he holds you in place as the two of you press your lips together, sighing contently.

You, feeling bold, nudge forward and manage to get Copia on his back. He raises his eyebrow towards you with a dirty twinkle in his eye. “It was about you, actually.” You smile, leaning over him to lean down and continue kissing for a moment.

“Was it about you doing this? My piccola diavoletta.”

“Something else, actually.”

Copia chuckles. “I see. Buttering me up to ahhhhh.” He looks down to find your hand gently palming his semi-hard dick over his pajama pants. “Piccolo angioletto mio” He breathes, settling further into the mattress to let you continue.

“And if you play your cards right,” you laugh lowly, pressing harder for just a moment. He lets out a few stuttered huffs in response, closing his eyes. “,I’ll give you what you want.”

Copia laughs nervously. “I was wrong. You’re my naughty little angel.”

“Good.” You lean down to press a kiss to his lips. He scrunches up his face from the pleasure you keep at bay for him below. “I’ve noticed something missing when we have sex.”

“What?” He whines, on the brink of falling already.

“Your nose.”

Copia opens his eyes, distracted and confused enough to briefly open his eyes and look at you. “I know what?”

You look taken aback. He can’t be this obtuse, right? Delicately, you lean down and peck over his paintless nose. “Are you following?”

The lights click on in his head and he smirks only to have it fade into an O shape as he closes his eyes from another wave of pleasure. “Yes.” By now you’ve nudged down his bottoms and have his freed erection in your hands, slowly pumping away.

You can’t tell if he’s responding to the thing your hand is doing or if it’s what you’re implying. “Would you be willing to try something new?” More pressure is applied to his pulsing cock in your hand. He’s shaking, babbling, and nodding wordlessly as he moans and writhes under your touch.

“Anything, amore mio. Just please let me come.” Copia grumbles desperately with his eyes scrunched closed.

“I have one question.”

“What?”

“Are you allergic to latex or silicone?” Copia shakes his head. “Perfect.”

You lean down to kiss him, picking up pace with your hand below. A few more final pumps have Copia crying into your mouth in euphoria. His spend runs down your closed fist and parts of his lower stomach. You’re both too focused on each other’s lips to care about the mess right now. You stroke him through the satisfying bliss, stopping when Copia whines in oversensitivity.

Later, after you clean him up, you give him the explanation.

“How do you feel about prosthetics?” You ask as casually as possible.

Copia thinks to himself for a moment, tossing around his forming response in his head before looking over to you below in his arms. “Are you saying you want me to wear a fake nose?”

“I knew you weren’t just a pretty face.” You smile, looking up at him.

Copia scoffs a high-pitched, realizing note. “Is this why you were so sad after my surgery? Was my old nose your favorite sex toy?”

You rise on one arm and rub a hand over his chest in an attempt to placate him with your touch. “It nudged so perfectly at my clit when you were kissing… other places below. Copia, it helped me squirt for the first time.”

He looks at you, then off to the side, then back at your hopeful eyes. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

You smile ear to ear. “So, it’s a yes?”

“Amore mio, with you I’ll try anything once.”

Famous last words.

A few days go by before it’s showtime. There was a local costume shop in town so you took a lovely stroll and stopped by. The options were slim but you managed to find something similar. Thanking the cashier, you carried your experiment and its accompanying items into the ministry as if it were contraband. You hid it in your bag and made your way to Copia’s Papal suite as quickly as you could.

Copia, lounging on the couch, looks up to find you rushing inside with a smile. “Did you get it?” He asks, a bit of apprehension creeping up.

You nod, pointing back and forth. “You. Me. Tonight?” The plastic bag rustles in your hand as you hold it up.

“Tonight.” Copia nods back.

You can barely eat dinner, you’re too excited. Copia on the other hand looks over warily and it’s noticeable. You set down your fork, reaching over with your other hand across the small table to grab his gloved hand.

“You don’t want to do this, do you?”

Copia’s eyes widen in shock. “No! I do! I just…”

“What?” You rub your thumb over the back of his hand.

He shakes his head to himself. “It’s silly.”

“Not if it has you like this.” You urge him to say it.

Copia sighs. “If I don’t do this, will you not like me as much?”

You sit up straight. “Of course not. I still like you the same. I dare say I love you.” Copia smiles softly to himself.

“But my old nose was your favorite thing about me when we had sex.”

You sigh, standing up. Nudging the table away from him, you sit and straddle his lap. He smiles as you place your hands on his shoulders, sliding back to play with the ends of his hair at his neck. “I may have said it was but honestly, I’ve realized that my favorite sex toy is simply… you. All of you. The pointy nose was just a bonus. A nose-us.”

Copia groans, leaning his head back to laugh. You join in and soon his body relaxes. The air in the room feels lighter as the two of you grin lovingly towards each other.

“I think I’m ready now.” Copia looks on, leaning in for a small kiss.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair a few times. He closes his eyes, relaxing into your touch. “Let’s get ready.”

The dinner dishes get cleaned and then the prosthetic supplies are drawn out. The glue, brushes, and liquid latex, and removing solvent are placed onto the table and then the moneymaker comes out.

“It’s modeled after Vincent Price. It’s the only one I could find that looked similar enough.” You smile sheepishly.

Copia wraps an arm around you, tugging you into his hip. He kisses the side of your head. “It’s fine, amore mio. I think it looks very similar, indeed.”

You clean the area around his nose and then get to work prepping the ends of the fake nose. Delicately, the prosthetic is applied over his new nose and you press in the material around the edges. When you feel like the hold is strong enough, you step back.

“Well?” Copia asks, a bit more nasally than intended. The nose had very small air holes.

“Perfect. Though your voice is a bit off.”

He tries to talk and then attempts to sing something but it’s slightly muffled. “It’s a good thing I don’t do stuff like this on stage.”

You both laugh.

Copia walks towards you and then grabs your hand, leading the two of you back to the bedroom. He leans down to kiss you and the point of the nose bumps yours on the way down. He chuckles, “I guess this is going to work, eh?”

You nod, eager now to test it out further. “Let’s see what this bad boy can do.”

You both make quick work to take off your clothes and soon the two of you stand as naked as the day you were born. Copia takes your hand and rises it to place a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we get to it?”

You nod, leading the way. You’re laid back into the bed, legs bent as your feet rest flat to the covers. They part, resting open, leaving your body on full display for his hungry eyes. You playfully rise a hand, curling a finger, beckoning him forward. He practically floats on autopilot and crawls onto the bed, stalking closer until he’s nestled between your legs. Copia holds himself up as he hovers over you.

“Amore mio…” He sighs, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You stay like this for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of intimacy. The soft silicone on his nose grazes next to yours and you smile into his mouth. Slowly, he pokes his tongue over to your lips and you gladly open wide for him.

He lowers down into your body slowly and the pressure of him on top has a sigh leave your lips. Your arms wrap around him, holding Copia to you tenderly. There’s a comforting warmth spreading through your body as he begins a path from your mouth downward, dragging the tip of the nose along to fluster you. Copia’s feeling lightheaded and he pulls back to take a deep breath.

“You take my breath away.” He huffs, chest moving quickly up and down.

You tilt your head, grinning. “I think it’s the nose cutting off the airflow.”

Copia chuckles. “Wish me luck down there?”

You look on with concern for a second, reaching out for his hand. “Oh, please don’t push yourself. I’d hate for you to die because you didn’t take a break.”

“And if I die between your thighs? I go doing what I love, cara mia.” He looks at you like a man in love, leaning back in to kiss your lips one last time.

His sweet albeit morbid words put you at ease and you lean back into the pillows. “Well, I’ll just let you continue I guess!”

Copia huffs out a laugh, lowering down to his stomach. He presses a trail of kisses down from your shoulder, between your chest, down the soft expanse of your stomach, stopping right where you both want. He spent a good couple minutes worshiping your breasts, licking and kissing over the soft and sensitive flesh. When his lips took a nipple in to suck, you gasped, feeling the growing wetness below from his attention. Oh, that mouth would make you do anything, you think.

He looks up at you from between your thighs, starving in anticipation. You fidget under him, feeling restless for the first touch of the nose when Copia puts his mouth on your pussy. He looks at you when his head begins to sink down lower, lower, lower until –

“Ohmmmm, Copia.” You moan out, finally feeling the glorious attention of his lips on yours below. Your head falls back into the pillows and one hand slides over to grip into his hair. He hums from a slight tug on his follicles and the vibrations directly into your clit create a fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. Content hums come from you as your hand in his hair encourage him to continue.

Another deep breath from Copia can be heard before he gets back to it. He gives some attention to your clit, licking and sucking just like he did on your nipples. His delicate work builds up and the occasional flutter of your pussy have small whimpers leaving your lips. He smiles, satisfied that you’re already so worked up. Slowly, his tongue leaves the delightful bundle of nerves to explore further down, happily slurping up the arousal you’re making for him, and only him.  

“Oh, Copia,” you moan. “You always know how to make me feel so good. You, ah!” Your thought was cut short but it was because you felt it. The prosthetic nose brushes just slightly across your sensitive clit as Copia licks and kisses your labia. A shudder runs down your spine and it feels heavenly and sinful at the same time. He builds and builds your pleasure on is tongue and without thinking, your hips shift to match the rhythm of his mouth. A wide smile graces your face as your eyes close as you rock your hips against his mouth and nose.

Copia smirks and leans back slightly for another deep breath causing you to whine. “It is everything you hoped it would be?” His voice is husky as he huffs deep breaths.

You can’t think properly, babbling out a string of “yes, yes, yes” for him so he’d keep it up. Copia grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to him and he picks up in enthusiasm. “Fuck, keep doing that, please Copia!” You cry out from the rapid nudging of the silicone over your clit as he licks and drinks from you like a man starved.

“Amore mio.” Copia rumbles in his chest, humping into the mattress to give his aching cock some relief as he brings you over into bliss. He grips firmer into your thighs, picking up pace at the sound of your staccato whimpers. His head is starting to feel funny and his vision goes blurry. Copia closes his eyes and presses on, making sure to angle the nose just right over your clit to have you shaking in his grip.

The sound in the room is beginning to fade for Copia as the cries of your orgasm ring out into the air and flow onto his tongue. He grunts and shudders, feeling a warm, wet sensation spurting out from his cock into the comforter in his satisfaction of making you overcome with pleasure. Spots dot around behind Copia’s eyelids and his heart races as the sound in the room ceases around him.

The last think he heard were your pleasured cries of “Oh, fuck.” as your hand gripped his hair when his consciousness went dark.

You’re too distracted from the ecstasy Copia gave to you with the fake nose and his talented mouth to notice his hips have stilled as well as his mouth. Coming down from the high and trying to settle your racing heartbeat, you look down to an unmoving Copia. You move his head up to find his eyes are closed and when you release his head, it plops back down between you.

Your heart is now racing for a different reason as panic sets in. Survival mode takes over and you jolt from the bed, rushing to find the solvent to remove the nose from him. If need be, you’ll cut it off. You mutter “Shit, shit, shit” through the apartment as you run around like a Papa Terzo with its head cut off.While turning over his body, his chest is still rising a small amount and you can still feel a slight, desperate pulse. You get the nose off quickly and search for your phone, dialing the all-hours clinic.

“Copia, my love. Please be alive. I don’t want my vagina to have a body count.” You whimper into his hair as you brush your fingers through it. You managed to awkwardly pull up some sweats onto his legs after cleaning him up and you yourself have thrown on whatever clothes you can find so the paramedic ghouls don’t walk in on you two naked.

The ghouls take him to the clinic after making sure he was, in fact, still alive but just passed out from the lack of oxygen to his brain. The head nurse on duty sat you down and talked you through it. She’s asked you if he showed symptoms earlier in the day, if he was feeling tired and short of breath. You shook your head and said it was more sudden.

“What were you two doing just before he passed out?” She asked, holding her hand over yours to comfort you.

“Well, uh,” you blush, looking away towards where he sleeps in a bed. “We were doing something new in bed and uh.”

She encourages you to continue. “Yes.”

“He had something over his nose and it might’ve restricted his airflow when he was,” you point with your free hand. “,when he was down there.”

The nurse smiles, chuckling. She pats your hand and then gets up. “He should wake up soon, if that helps at all. His pulse isn’t too weak and you can pull up a chair and sit by him if you want to wait.”

You nod rapidly. Slowly walking over to Copia, you sit down at the side of his bed. Resting your head on his leg, you take his hand and kiss his knuckles softly. You tenderly hold his hand in yours and never let your eyes wander from his face, eager to see the fluttering lashes when he wakes up. The adrenaline from the emergency has left now and your eyelids start to feel heavy. There looks like there could be room for you on the bed and slowly you crawl on top, the metal frame squeaking below from the extra weight.

You cuddle Copia to you and finally close your eyes, holding his hand up to your chest with your hand over it. The night passes and now the beginning rays of sunshine bringing in the next day float through the crack in the curtains. The light brushing of a thumb over your hand had your eye opening to see yours and Copia’s hands switched at some point in the night. Did you do that? You stare down at the intertwined hands before the soft chuckle reaches your ears.

“It was me.” Copia softly teases. “Good morning, cara mia.”

You jerk your head towards him, smiling. “You’re awake!” You softly exclaim.

He removes his hand from yours to gently cup your face in place so he can lean in for a kiss. “I’ve been up for a few hours now, actually.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You pout.

Copia runs his thumb over your lips and smiles. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful, finally resting after what was probably a very scary experience.”

You frown, nuzzling into him. “It was.”

“I’ve always heard about autoerotique asphyxiation but I’m not sure that’s one I’d like to repeat.”

You shift, laying on your side, wrapping an arm around his stomach. “I think I know what the issue was. Part of the instructions said to make the nose holes bigger after you get it on so it can sit flush with your own.”

Copia chuckles. “And you didn’t think to read that!”

“I,” you huff. “I think I was too blinded by excitement and pure lust to think straight.”

“Story of our lives, eh?”

The nurse comes in, a different woman from last night, and you hop down from the bed so they can run some vitals. His left hand is held in both of yours as you sit down in the chair on that side of the bed while they check on him. The nurse deems him back at a normal heart rate and that he’s ready to go back to your shared apartment, warning only to pause any strenuous activity for a couple days. She signs off a discharge note of rest and hydration.

“Rest up, Papa. Take it easy.” She says, bidding you two a goodbye.

You borrow a wheelchair from them and after a stroll through the halls, thankfully free of anyone this early, you two make it back home. He slowly rises from the chair, grunting and making the occasional “ehe” noise as he eventually stands upright.

“I have never felt more like an old man than I do now.” Copia sighs, moving a hesitant foot forward.

“Your energy will return; you just need rest like they said.” You walk over, wrapping your arms around his waist. With your help, he’s able to walk the short trek into the bedroom to lay down on his side of the bed. A couple ghouls have come in and changed the sheets and comforter for clean ones while you two were away. “Need anything?” You ask, brushing his hair with your fingers. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“Just you.” He opens his eyes and his mismatched gaze looks up at you longingly, pleading for you to cuddle with him.

You grin. “One second. Let me go grab some water and snacks for later.”

He’s reluctant to let you go but upon your return, his face lights up. Copia makes grabby hands at you, restless to have you wrapped together once again. You giggle, scolding him without any actual anger for being so impatient.

You sigh, settling together in bed. Copia lies on his back while you rest your chest on his. Your hand rubs soft, soothing circles over his heart. Copia handles the remote to the TV in your room, tapping through the list of movies he’ll put on for background noise. Some time passes and you look up to find his eyes on you first.

“What’cha thinking about?” Copia smiles.

“You were such a champ through all of this, and I just wanted to say thank you.” You move to kiss the bottom of his chin from where you’re positioned. “I think you’ve earned something.”

Copia looks puzzled. “Earned what?”

You shift again to rest on your arm, propped up next to him. You hand on his chest continues to rub small circles, smiling. “The next time we have sex, I’ll call you Papa in bed.”

He makes a sharp humming sound and locks eyes with you, grinning deviously. “Oh, really?” Copia begins to lean over to get you on your back. He seems ready to pounce but in the next second, He’s breathing heavy and his face pales. You can feel his heartbeat picking up under your palm.

Slowly you coax him back down onto his back. “Please, Copia. Follow orders. I don’t want a repeat incident so soon.”

Copia winks up at you and you lean down to kiss him, humming into each other. When you pull back, his face has returned to its usual color, now with a faint blush. “As I said, amore mio. You take my breath away.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it Translations: My piccola diavoletta [little devil] Piccolo angioletto mio [my little angel]

All credits to FicAndKaboodle for the cheese wedge line and the "nose-us" pun. it was too hilarious not to put in there.

[bellaxgiornata]

Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Series

Neighbors [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

Between running Common Grounds, chasing after your escape artist husky, and helping your financially struggling brother out by watching your niece, your days are always busy. But shortly after a new neighbor moves into the other side of your duplex, you start receiving mysterious threats. Surprisingly, you eventually find safety and comfort in the reclusive neighbor whom your niece and dog have both come to befriend.

You're Safe With Me [Chapter List]

Warnings/tags: 18+; series contains violence, mentions of mass shootings, angst and comfort, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

When you accidentally stumble upon something far bigger than the fluff and filler news stories you’ve always covered for WGN News Chicago, you reach out to the Department of Homeland Security and come in contact with Dinah Madani–but that only seals your fate as a target for the Patriot Militia and their wealthy political backers. Determined to root out the culprits deep within the government, Madani tasks an unlikely person to keep you safe while she builds her case. But when the person she expects you to go on the run with is Frank Castle–the Punisher himself–you feel anything but safe.

Frank Castle x Fem!Reader One Shots & Shorts

Your Body is Not a Graveyard

Warnings/tags: 18+, angst, miscarriage, depression, grief, emotional hurt/comfort

It's been over a year since Frank and you decided to expand your family, but all you've managed to give him is more loss. Struggling with grief and depression, you've tried your best to hide your pain from him, but one afternoon, Frank stumbles on you mid-panic attack.

Don't Walk Away [1] [2]

Warnings/tags: 18+, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, smut

Frank is a good man–you learned that the day he brought your dog Lucky into your life. The two of you soon began a relationship afterwards, one that was rather unconventional with how often Frank was always on the road. But one night when he's back, you're hit with the realization that you're in love with him. Noticing your nerves, Frank eventually pulls the truth out of you–and then you're left confused and heartbroken when you wake up to find him gone the next morning.

Maybe This Time

Warnings/tags: 18+, smut and soft Frank

You often work through the night at the Sunny-Side Up Diner just off of I-80, but sometimes during your long shifts your favorite drifter stops in for a meal. Even if nothing has ever actually happened between you two, there's certainly been plenty of flirting. But one morning he stops in before your shift ends and you wonder if maybe this time things will be different.

Under the Stars

Warnings/Tags: 18+; smut, oral (fem receiving)

Frank finally convinces you to join him on a camping trip and he intends to make sure that you fully enjoy it.

Love to See You Smile

Warnings/Tags: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, soft Frank

For the past few days Frank has been emotionally withdrawn from you, struggling with his past and his pain. Even though it hurts you when he goes through these episodes, you decide to take the day off of work to take him apple picking in the hopes to cheer him up.

Next to You

Warnings/Tags: just fluff and Frank being a sweet little smartass

Frank and you decide to watch a scary movie on Halloween night, but that quickly turns into you trying to prove to Frank that you're not afraid of scary movies.

Frank Castle x Fem!Reader/Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Jealousy [Installment List]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader and Frank Castle x Fem!Fitness Instructor!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; Sexual tension, flirting, lust/love triangle, friends with benefits, smut, jealous Matt and Frank

Your days are spent training members of Fogwell’s Gym as well as keeping the place running for your elderly uncle. Though if you were being honest, your favorite part of working at Fogwell's had always been the handsome man who'd long ago struck a deal with your uncle to use the gym after hours. Despite his constant denial, you'd quickly figured out that he was Daredevil. While the pair of you had often flirted during his late night visits when you were still around, nothing more had ever happened between you two. Until one day he shows up with a very attractive friend and everything changes. You soon find yourself the center of both their attentions and unable to choose either one. But what's wrong with a little competition among friends?