#and to anyone else reading this: YOU GOT THIS AS WELL !!!!

[ckret2]

Chapter 69 (lol) of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'mnot about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip—had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that this was perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 17

Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.

(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)

Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.

“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”

Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!

But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.

At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.

And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”

Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.

And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.

You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.

“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.

“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”

The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”

You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”

…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”

Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.

You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”

Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?

“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?

You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”

“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?

“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”

Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.

Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”

You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”

“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”

While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.

This is nice, that you trust him like this.

“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”

And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?

“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”

[midnight-bay-if]

Alright, everyone else gets angst posting, I’ll give it a shot.

How would the RO’s react to some sort of spell being cast on the MC, making them think their father is there? Some sort of ploy to get the MC closer to them, probably for harm.

Loving the story so far!!! :)

(Ouch, this hurts... My fellow pain enjoyers, rejoice! Also, apologies that this took so long to get to.)

S: They see it. The clarity in your eyes fog over, the once bright light filling with murky water. It's a sight S has witnessed often. You have been hit with a powerful curse to dominate your mind and fill your head with painful visions.

"Dad..."

You whisper the familial title like a solemn prayer, reaching out into the empty space before you, and S's chest lurches. They do not hesitate to act. In moments, they stand in front of you, grasping your face with both hands as they stare into your eyes, filling your vision with them rather than what they can only imagine coaxes you behind them.

"It isn't real. Look at me," they order, pressing their forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, my love, but it isn't real. Whoever has cast this curse on you means to harm you, and I will not let that happen. Keep your eyes closed, darling. Keep them closed until I can take it away."

Rain: Rain doesn't understand what is happening. One moment, both of you were enjoying a bit of banter, a playful back-and-forth with teasing insults, before it stopped. Everything stopped.

"MC?"

Nothing. Then, something. You look straight past them as you call out to the darkness. "Dad..."

"Oh, no."

In a flash of realisation, Rain steps between you and the apparition. Anybody or anything willing to conjure up an image of your greatest wound does not have good intentions, but Rain cannot fight what they do not see.

"I'm sorry for this, MC," they whisper, clasping a hand firmly over your eyes. "Your dad isn't there, MC, I promise you that. I'm so sorry that I can't make it different."

Taj: Taj senses it before they see it. Something in the air, like a crack of electricity whipping across their skin. It causes the scars to ache. Then, Taj turns to you, ready to ask if you are sensing something similar. But what they are greeted with terrifies them.

Your usual colourful eyes have dampened as if a dark smog is purposefully shutting out the light. It scares them.

"Dad..."

Taj watches as you reach for an empty space, an lifeless smile on your face.

"Oi, Koel, snap out of it." Taj snaps in front of your face, their heart beating rapidly in their chest. When you keep reaching out to nothingness, Taj grabs your hand and holds it to their chest. "There's nothing there, so stop it. Please."

When even that doesn't seem to work, Taj snaps. "Oh, fuck it." With their forehead pressed firmly against yours, they hold you in place.

"Listen to me right now. Your dad is dead. You spent your entire life fucking shit up because of it, and I fuckin' love you for that. No matter how shit things got, you never gave up. So don't you dare fall to this now. Ya hear me?"

N: N knows dark magic when they see it. They are sure to some their magic could be considered dark. In their opinion, a little mind-reading wasn't really hurtful... Well, that was what they believed until meeting you. Now, they see you reaching out into nothing and feel their burning skin turn cold.

"Dad..."

"Oh, no you don't," they mutter, standing between you and the nothing you reach for. "Sorry, my dear, but I get terribly jealous. I can't let just anyone inside your head."

N is inside you in an instant. For once, they don't wish to see. Instead, they concentrate hard on creating some kind of barrier to stop access. "Feel free to punish me later. I'll wait with anticipation."

Umbra: Umbra has spent far too long gazing into your eyes. They have every tiny variation of colour seered into their mind. The instant the colour of your eyes becomes muted, their already pallid skin grows paler.

"Dad..."

They turn towards where you reach for, and they realise you are grasping at nothing.

This isn't like them. This moment isn't like theirs. They had no body to lose; it was given. But it breaks their heart to think you might believe this is possible thanks to what they are.

With a tentative touch, Umbra reaches up to cup your cheek, hoping the cold of their touch might serve as a light raft to pull you to safety from wherever your mind lays adrift. "Feel the cold, MC. Feel what is real, and know what is not. I'm sorry, I know it is selfish, but I need you back with me."

[cluelessteam]

Whispers Through Time: {~Whispers of Warning~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1376

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 4 --- Chapter 5

The stillness of the Red Keep in the early morning was almost deceptive, as if the palace itself was holding its breath in anticipation. After narrowly avoiding Daemon's gaze the night before, you had returned to your chambers, trying to calm your racing mind. But no matter how hard you tried, the thought of how close you had come to being caught lingered in your thoughts.

You had been careful—perhaps not careful enough. It seemed inevitable that the danger would only grow the longer you continued this charade. But you had no other choice; Rhaenyra needed to know. The storm brewing within the kingdom wasn’t something you could stand by and watch unfold.

The second note had been delivered without issue, and although you had not yet seen Rhaenyra's reaction, the tension you had observed in her movements the day before told you everything. She had read it. She believed it. A slight relief washed over you, but it didn’t last long.

The warnings you had provided in your notes—minor events that, when pieced together, painted a dark and treacherous path—would soon start to play out. But the biggest danger, the real storm that would tear the kingdom apart, was still ahead. You could only hope Rhaenyra would heed your words before it was too late.

As you prepared for another day, you glanced at the parchment before you. The third note lay waiting, its message even more urgent than the last. This one, you knew, could not fall into the wrong hands. It was too specific. Too dangerous. If Daemon—or anyone else—got hold of it, your ruse would be exposed.

You spent most of the day carefully watching, waiting for the right moment. The castle was always buzzing with activity, and today was no different. Rhaenyra had been meeting with her councilors for hours, and Daemon had been conspicuously absent for much of the day, something that both relieved and unsettled you.

As you walked through the halls, your mind wandered to the contents of the note. It was a warning of a conversation you knew would soon take place—one that would push the already fragile relationships within the court to the breaking point. The details were vague enough not to raise too much suspicion but precise enough to send a clear message: a storm was coming, and only those who were prepared would survive it.

Late in the afternoon, you finally spotted Rhaenyra, standing alone on a balcony overlooking the Blackwater Bay. Her figure was tense, her expression hard as she gazed out at the horizon. You could see the weight of the world pressing down on her, her mind no doubt filled with thoughts of her uncertain future.

It was the perfect moment.

Quietly, you approached the alcove near her chambers, the same place you had left the previous notes. Your hand trembled slightly as you placed the folded parchment in the hollow behind the wall, making sure it was well hidden but easy enough for Rhaenyra to find if she looked carefully.

Just as you were about to leave, footsteps echoed behind you. You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. Slowly, you turned, half-expecting to see Daemon’s shadowy figure emerging from the darkness.

But it wasn’t Daemon.

It was Ser Harwin Strong.

The tall, broad-shouldered knight was making his way down the corridor, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if on guard. You quickly lowered your gaze and moved aside, pretending to busy yourself with some imaginary task. Your mind raced, wondering if he had seen anything.

“Good day,” he greeted as he passed, his voice polite but his tone indifferent.

You nodded and mumbled a quick response, keeping your head down until he was out of sight. As soon as you were sure he was gone, you let out a breath of relief. But the danger hadn’t passed. Harwin Strong was a loyal protector of Rhaenyra, and though his demeanor was kind, you knew he wasn’t to be underestimated. If anyone was capable of figuring out your intentions, it would be him.

You had to be more careful.

Later that night, as you moved through the Keep on yet another task, you saw a familiar figure at the end of the hall. Rhaenyra was walking, her face pensive and her steps slow. Your heart raced as you realized she must have found the latest note. From the way her brows were furrowed, you could tell she was deep in thought, grappling with the weight of your warnings.

She turned a corner, disappearing from sight, but not before you saw her glance back once—just once—as if expecting someone to be watching her. But there was no suspicion in her eyes, only a growing sense of realization.

Your messages were reaching her.

The following days were tense. Daemon had returned to the Keep, his presence as sharp and unsettling as ever. You could feel his eyes on you more than once, though he never approached or questioned you directly. It was as if he were waiting for you to slip up, to make one wrong move that would confirm his suspicions. You went about your tasks as normal, avoiding his gaze whenever possible.

But it wasn’t Daemon’s scrutiny that kept you awake at night.

It was Rhaenyra.

You could sense her growing trust in you, even though she didn’t know who you were. The notes had been a lifeline for her—an anonymous ally in a world filled with enemies. Each day, she seemed more confident, more assured in her actions, and you knew your warnings were playing a role in that. But with trust came danger.

The closer she came to believing your words, the more precarious your position became. You had gained her trust, but trust was fragile, and you were walking a tightrope between helping her and exposing yourself.

One evening, as you prepared to write yet another note, there was a knock at your door. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened it to find one of Rhaenyra’s attendants standing there.

“The princess requests your presence,” she said simply, her expression unreadable.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Had something gone wrong? Had Rhaenyra discovered something that pointed to you? With the notes fresh in your mind, every possibility raced through your head as you followed the attendant through the corridors of the Keep.

When you reached Rhaenyra’s chambers, she was seated at a large oak table, her back to the door, her long, silver hair cascading over her shoulders. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the stone walls.

“Leave us,” she said softly, and the attendant quickly departed, leaving you alone with the princess.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You stood near the door, waiting for her to address you. Finally, Rhaenyra turned in her chair, her eyes locking onto yours. There was something different about her gaze—a sharpness, a clarity that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ve been a great help since your arrival,” she said, her voice steady but laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “The maesters speak highly of you.”

“I only wish to be of service, princess,” you replied carefully.

She studied you for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then, she stood and walked toward you, her steps slow and deliberate.

“There are whispers in the court,” she said, stopping just a few feet away. “Whispers of danger, of betrayal. But I have found myself… well-prepared for certain things.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Was she testing you? Did she suspect that you were the source of those warnings?

“I’m grateful that you have been kept safe, my princess,” you said, bowing your head slightly to hide the fear in your eyes.

Rhaenyra’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Safe. Yes.” She paused, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before turning away. “That will be all.”

You quickly bowed and left the room, your heart still racing. Rhaenyra hadn’t confronted you, but her words had left you shaken. She knew something—perhaps not everything, but enough to suspect that someone was helping her from the shadows.

The storm was closer than ever.

[pressureplus]

HEYA HELLO HI

first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]

SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH

a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?

oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D

Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️

♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it

Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment

A terrible mistake he'd soon find out

He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone

It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking

He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?

I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings

If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?

Could he?

He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses

After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?

Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?

It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.

You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.

You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you

His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…

Okay, insanely attractive

Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours

You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?

Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus

Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?

Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.

It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here

Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you

You hide it well…at least you hope you do?

The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though

Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming

It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it

No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date

He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together

And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels

When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?

Especially when you’re in love with him too?

He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟽𝚔 || 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x reader

The small bell above the diner door jingled, signaling your arrival at Luke’s Diner. As you stepped inside, you caught sight of Jess Mariano slouched in his usual booth, a dog-eared book in his hands. His dark eyes flicked up just briefly from the pages before returning to whatever literary masterpiece he was engrossed in.

You and Jess had a thing. Well, not officially. Not that anyone was thrilled about the prospect of it becoming official, except maybe you. You were supposed to be the sweet, well-liked girl in town—the one who got along with everyone, including Rory Gilmore, who always threw daggers your way every time you were caught within a ten-foot radius of Jess.

Lorelai wasn’t any better. She’d never been particularly subtle, and her dramatic sighs whenever she spotted you two talking were enough to fill a whole novel themselves. And Luke? Well, Luke had his usual I’m going to throttle my nephew expression on his face.

It wasn’t like Jess was helping to ease anyone’s concerns, either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the chaos. He lived for the thrill of rebellion, the undercurrent of defiance. And you? Well, you were getting a kick out of it, too.

You slid into the booth opposite him, the vinyl squeaking under your jeans as you gave him a once-over. “Hey, Romeo,” you said, leaning forward. “What tragic tale of doomed love are we reading today?”

Jess’s lips quirked up, his eyes still on the page. “Wuthering Heights,” he said dryly. “You know, to set the mood for our inevitable downfall.”

You grinned. “How fitting. Are we at the part where Heathcliff wrecks everything?”

Jess finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. “Depends. Have you made up your mind to ruin my life yet?”

“Who says you’re not the one ruining mine?” you teased back, earning yourself a full smirk from him. His hand casually turned the page of the book, but his attention was clearly focused on you now.

Before either of you could continue, the door opened again, and in strolled Rory and Lorelai. Instinctively, you straightened, feeling the weight of their disapproval from across the room. They exchanged knowing looks, whispering between themselves, and Lorelai’s exasperated sigh wasn’t even the least bit subtle.

Jess rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth. “Well, if it isn’t the Montagues.”

You chuckled softly under your breath. “Ignore them.”

“Hard to, when they’re so invested in our tragic demise.”

“Tragic?” You arched an eyebrow at him. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, his smirk growing. “Just quoting the classics. We are in a small town where everyone has an opinion, and they all seem to hate me. Shakespeare would’ve had a field day with this.”

“Oh, totally. You as Romeo, me as Juliet, and the entire town as the bloodthirsty Capulets.”

Jess’s gaze darkened slightly, his tone playful but serious beneath it. “You know how that ends, right? Double suicide, lots of crying, poetic last words.”

“Relax,” you said, laughing softly. “No one’s drinking poison or stabbing themselves here. We’re more of a modern adaptation. Happy endings.”

“If you say so, Cherry,” Jess said, leaning forward slightly, his voice a low murmur. The nickname slipped off his tongue with a casual ease that made your heart skip a beat. It had started as a joke, something to poke fun at your fondness for cherry-flavored candies. Now, it felt like a secret only the two of you shared, a reminder that he saw you differently from how everyone else did.

You smiled at him, leaning your chin on your hand. “I do say so, Romeo.”

“Speaking of star-crossed lovers,” he continued, “you planning on telling the entire town about us?”

“What about us?” you grinned, glancing around. “Besides, they’ve already made up their minds.”

“Of course they have,” Jess said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s Stars Hollow. They hate me.”

“Not everyone hates you.”

“Really?” He gave you a sceptical look. “Name one person.”

“Michel doesn’t hate you,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

“Michel doesn’t care about anyone.”

“Exactly.” You smirked. “I talk to him about you all the time.”

Jess’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “You talk about me to Michel?”

“In French,” you replied nonchalantly, picking at the edge of your napkin. “It’s our little secret. So, even if the whole town thinks you’re the worst, Michel remains blissfully indifferent.”

“Lucky me,” Jess muttered, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, what do you tell him? How much you adore me? How I’m your Romeo, destined to sweep you off your feet?”

You shrugged, playing coy. “Maybe.”

“I knew it,” he said with a grin, leaning in closer. “You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you?”

Before you could respond, Luke approached the table, wiping his hands on his apron and glaring down at Jess. “You bothering her?”

“Not at all,” Jess said smoothly, leaning back. “We’re just discussing the great literary works.”

“Right,” Luke deadpanned, clearly not buying it. “Well, whatever you’re discussing, don’t get any ideas.”

Jess raised his hands in mock surrender. “No ideas here, Uncle Luke. Just harmless banter.”

Luke shot you a look that said I know exactly what’s going on before walking away, mumbling something about young people and bad influences.

You turned back to Jess, who was watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression.

“You know,” you said, picking up the book in front of him and flipping through the pages. “For all your talk of tragedy, I think we’re more of a comedy.”

“Comedy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, meeting his gaze. “Everyone’s making a fuss, we’re keeping secrets, and at the end of the day, it all works out.”

“Is that so?” Jess tilted his head, his voice dropping slightly. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him, “no one dies in our story.”

Jess looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he finally chuckled softly, his defences melting ever so slightly. “Alright, Cherry. If you say so.”

“I do.” You leaned forward, mirroring his earlier movement. “Now, where were we?”

Jess smirked. “Oh, I think you know.”

Stars Hollow had never been one for keeping secrets. Gossip moved faster than a Gilmore Girl with coffee, and somehow, before you'd even realized it, everyone knew that something was going on between you and Jess Mariano. Well, everyone except you and Jess, apparently.

You leaned against the counter at the Dragonfly Inn, flipping through the latest book you had been unable to put down, your mind still half in the world of fictional characters and tragic romances. Michel was at his desk, typing with exaggerated annoyance.

“Il est agaçant (He is annoying),” you said in a hushed tone, eyes still glued to your book.

Michel barely looked up. “I assume you’re talking about the delinquent,” he replied, his accent as sharp as ever.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Yes, of course. Who else?”

“I don’t get it,” you had said to Michel one afternoon as you sat at the reception desk. “Why is everyone so against him? They don’t even know him.”

Michel had waved a hand, unimpressed. “Parce qu’ils sont tous idiots." (Because they are all idiots.)

The bell above the door chimed, and you looked up to see Jess walk in, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Hey, Cherry,” Jess greeted you, leaning against the counter casually.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. “Mon cher Roméo (My dear Romeo),” you replied playfully.

Jess chuckled, glancing around the empty lobby. “Don’t tell me Lorelai or Rory have been by to lecture you again?”

“Oh, they have,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Apparently, I’m making a huge mistake.”

Jess shrugged, not offended but rather amused by the whole town’s reaction to him. “What can I say? I’m Stars Hollow’s favorite villain.”

“Maybe it’s time for a redemption arc,” you teased, pushing the book you were reading across the counter towards him.

He picked it up, scanning the title with mild interest. “Pride and Prejudice? Not exactly light reading.”

“Well, I have to keep up with someone,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, the town’s resident bad boy with impeccable taste in literature.”

Jess smirked. “Impeccable, huh? High praise, Juliet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with what we’re doing. It’s not like we’re… I don’t know.”

“In love?” Jess finished for you, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something more.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, that.”

Jess’s gaze softened for a moment, and the teasing smirk fell from his lips, replaced by something more serious. “Maybe they’re just jealous they’re not living in their own Shakespearean tragedy,” he said, his voice lower now.

You scoffed, trying to brush off the intensity of the moment. “A tragedy? Please. You and I both know we’re way too smart to fall into that trap.”

He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is that what you think, Cherry? That we’re too smart to end up like Romeo and Juliet?”

The reference wasn’t lost on you. It never was. Jess had this way of weaving literature into every conversation, turning something mundane into something more. And you knew what he was doing, teasing you, pushing boundaries.

You bit your lip, leaning in just a fraction closer. “I mean, I do prefer happy endings.”

Jess’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and then he leaned back, the playful smirk returning to his lips. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and Lorelai walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing when she saw Jess.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Romeo and Juliet. How fitting.”

You groaned inwardly. “Lorelai…”

But she wasn’t listening. She marched over, standing between you and Jess, arms crossed. “Jess, don’t you have a book to brood over somewhere else? Preferably far away?”

Jess just raised his eyebrows, completely unfazed. “Nice to see you too, Lorelai.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” Lorelai shot back, turning to you. “Seriously, you need to be careful with him.”

Jess glanced at you, and for a moment, there was something unspoken in his eyes—something that made your heart race. You knew he wasn’t going to push back against Lorelai, not right now. Instead, he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.

“See you later, Cherry,” he said softly, as he walked out the door.

Lorelai groaned once he was gone, turning back to you. “I really don’t get it. What do you see in him?”

You didn’t answer right away, your mind still on the way Jess had looked at you, the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you Juliet. Maybe you were falling for him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Je ne sais pas, (I don't know)” you muttered under your breath, catching Michel’s amused smirk from behind the desk.

But deep down, you knew.

Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

[xetswan]

Twilight- Mortality: Chapter Three, Date Night

(Alice X Reader X Jasper)

[Two] [Three] [Four]

[Warnings: Sexual topics(not much)]

[Filler chapter, doesn’t truly affect the storyline]

That night I ended up going home with Charlie, he drank a little too much to drive and I didn't want something happening to him. He was half asleep the drive home so I was glad when I made that decision. I got him to lay down on the couch and that's where he fell asleep.

After everything I fell asleep in my room. I knew if I stayed up I would have to deal with things I didn't want to. I took advantage of being a Hybrid. Sleeping away my problems was always my answer as a human and now I can do it again.

Very grateful for it too after I woke up to Alice and Jasper in my room going through my laptop. I sigh loudly, earning their attention. "You're awake." Alice announces, coming over to me and peppering kisses on my face. "Yeah, what's going on?" I ask, my eyebrows scrunched. "We got here early. Had nothing to do so we were just checking emails." Jasper tells me.

I raise a brow but honestly I don't care enough right now. I lay my head back down on my pillow. Alice straddling my waist, hugging my torso tightly.

I rub her back gently, going back and forth.

"Has the married couple said anything to either of you? Or anyone else?" I ask them, Jasper chuckles, shaking his head. "They are enjoying that honeymoon." He says, coming over and joining us on my bed.

I smile awkwardly, now just overly worried about my sister. Dying from vampire dick? What a way to go, but hopefully not the way Bella has to go out. Ugh.

I shiver in disgust at the thought.

"Rosalie and Emmett invited us to a double date." Alice suddenly says, Jasper and I look at her as she sits up, still straddling me. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I said we'd be there, it's later tonight." She tells us, I look back over to Jasper who has the same expression. Not very surprised but a little disappointed as it's our first night alone since having to plan the wedding and get everything done for that.

"It's as if we don't see them all the time." I joke, well kinda.

"It'll be nice, a relaxing night out."

"Where are we supposed to go out on a date? Four Vampires and Hybrid. You guys can't eat. We can't play a sport we will literally destroy whatever we play with unless it's baseball." I remind her, crossing my arms. "And I'm sorry but I genuinely do not want to play that." I tell her earnestly.

"You'll see." She gives me a smile that she normally does and here I am actually wishing that Edward was here so I could read her mind.

I also realized that my eye changing color thing wasn't brought up which if that means I have to go on a date for that to still not be a conversation. I will take it. She lays back down, her chest against mine. Jasper laid his head on my arm that he pulled out. I was like their heating pad or something.

I didn't mind it though.

"Swim wear?" I ask, stretching out my arms, checking myself out in the mirror. I was put into a one piece swimsuit with shorts over the top. Its not summer time though so I did not expect this. "Isn't it so cute. We match!" Alice gleams, showing off her bikini and then moving to show Jasper's swim trunks. We were all in black. Somehow all the same exact shade too.

I smile, nodding my head. "We look attractive." I tell her, then go back to looking in the mirror, flexing my arms. "When do we leave?" I ask her, still checking myself out. Noticing certain muscles pop out more with the bathing suit on. "Now actually, let's go." Alice takes both mine and Jasper's hand. It was already dark, it being 11 pm. I wonder if we're just going to the beach.

I purse my lips out trying to guess what we're going to do. We get into Jasper's new car, it being a convertible. I sit in the back, sprawling out dramatically. I notice him glance back to me, shaking his head with a small smile.

"Took you guys long enough!" I hear a voice shout behind us as we get our few things out of the car. We all look back to see Emmett with his arm around Rosalie. Both wearing swimsuits as well. Rosalie wearing a red bikini and Emmett wearing white swim trunks with red kiss marks all over it.

"We're not even late, it's thirty minutes before we said we'd come here!" Alice yells back to the buff vampire who just laughs in response. The couple hurrying over to us. "That's late." He rolls his eyes playfully but it bothers my girlfriend nonetheless.

"All right, all right, let's go have this stupid date." Rosalie attempts to hide her smile, dragging Alice by the arm. All of us following behind them. "What are we doing tonight?" I furrow my eyebrows as we go onto the sand.

"Didn't your lovers tell you, Hybie?" Emmett asks, nudging me. He watched as I didn't flinch. He does it often to see if my strength falters at all. Also with calling me Hybie ever since I turned into my wolf form in front of him. He knew I was a Hybrid, I mean obviously.

"No, obviously not bird brain." I nudge him back but purposefully a little hard causing him to stumble. "No need for the hostility." He puts his hands up in defense. "What ever, what are we doing?" I switch the subject with a smile.

"We are going to swim. Play a few water games." He winks at me, I give him a confused expression in return. "Water games?" I repeat back to him. He puts a finger up to my lips, shushing me. "I've said too much." He joins his girl along with my girlfriend. I stare at the back of his head still genuinely confused. I feel arms wrap around my waist and slightly lift me in the air. I squeal a tiny bit.

"Don't mind him, darlin. We're going to have a good time. No worries." He kisses gently at my neck, now both of us walking. "He... confuses me sometimes. I now know Rosalie can never get bored with that man." I snicker. As we get closer to the water, we get to this large blanket that has candles set up along with blood bags.

"It's our own makeshift picnic." Rosalie clasps her hands together.

"This is cute in a... way." I nod my head. "Let's dig in. I've been waiting for your ungrateful ass." Emmett plops down, grabbing a blood bag. My eyes widen but I begin to laugh. "Sorry." I mutter, Rosalie sits next to Emmett as Alice and Jasper sit on either side of me.

The waves are stopping just before the blanket, the moon was bright tonight. Brighter than the candles beside us. The temperature of the air wasn't bad either for it being autumn. It's been weirdly warm this November. It wouldn't matter to any of us even if it was super cold. "So, thoughts on the wedding?" Alice questions everyone. We all begin to chuckle. We could've figured that was going to be her first question. "I mean we set it up, it was beautiful." Rosalie gives a simple answer. "Exactly." I add in, taking a sip out of my blood bag. It would've been cooler if we put the blood in like wine glasses or something. "I mean like how it went with everybody that showed up. Idiots." She gently shoves me and reaches over to slap Rosalie.

The blonde and I make eye contact, trying not to laugh. "Oh wait before the questions begin, I brought something." Alice pauses the conversation, standing up and speeding off to the car trunk. She swiftly comes back with a bigger bag in it. "What is it?" I furrow my eyebrows, curious.

"Open it." She puts it down in front of us. I go to reach into it but Emmett beats me to it. He lifts out a bottle of wine. His face scrunches up in disgust. "Wine, seriously?"

"There's more." She motions. He goes to reach in but this time I shove him back. I take out a Jack Daniels and I mentally taste it from when I tried it as a freshman. Disgusted I put it down and take out two other bottles. Spirytus Rektyfikowany, a Polish Vodka that is harsh, so I've heard. And Everclear a pure grain alcohol. Both banned from most states. I widen my eyes but they're taken from my hands as Jasper and Emmett cheer. "Don't worry, we don't get hungover." I hear Rosalie say in front of me. "We do however, get drunk off our asses like any other being." Emmett smirks, taking the cap off of the Everclear and the Jack Daniel's. Taking a swig from both bottles.

I shake my head, opening the wine bottle. "Oh there's glasses in the bag." Alice stops me from drinking from the bottle, giving me a wine glass that I don't understand how it didn't break in that bag.

It also irritated me as I could've been drinking the blood from these glasses instead of a bag like a freak. Well either way we're freaks. But I could've been a classy one.

I pour the wine in mine and in one for Alice. Rosalie hands me her glass and I pour some into it, handing it back. "So answer my question now." My girlfriend waves a hand for us to start talking. "I had a blast. Those Wolf mutts are kinda cool. No offense Hybie." Emmett takes another drink of both alcohols. Passing the Everclear to Jasper. "Thanks, bird brain." I snatch the Jack from his hand and take a drink, roughly giving it back. I attempt not to gag but the taste brings me back to horrible memories.

"I had a chill time, nothing memorable." Jasper shrugs his shoulders, lifting up the bottle, I watch as some of it drips down his chin. He goes to wipe it but I stop him, licking it off myself. He hums in response, pulling me into a short kiss. I feel a tiny buzz but I know I haven't drank enough yet.

"I'd say the same thing, I also don't like what that marriage stands for." Rosalie huffs, drinking her wine, ignoring what I just did to Jasper. But I see Emmett smirking at the sight, his eyes kept on me. I give him the finger in an elegant way by scratching the side of my face as I drank the rest of my wine. He snorts.

"I feel you there, Rosie." I sigh out, "but I'd say I had a good time. Truly got to say goodbye to Angela really my only friend I made in high school." I roll my eyes, taking the Spirytus from the bag and opening it. Alice places a hand on my arm. "That's strong, be careful love bug." She gives a short smile. I give her a nod.

"Oh, I saw you with that girl, she had the glasses. Even with glasses to help her see she had her eyes fixed on you. I don't get it." Emmett roars into laughter. Alice glares at him, Jasper squints. He goes quiet but it's now him trying not to laugh. "Excuse me?" I smile, teeth showing. "She was so into you." Rosalie chimes in. "Yeah!" Emmett nods his head. He practically drank most of the Jack already. Splitting the Everclear with Jasper that's almost gone as well. He was swaying. Drunk.

"You guys think that?" I look at both of my lovers who agree with the other couple. "Hm, wouldn't have guessed." I smirk, licking my lips before taking a large drink of the Spirytus. "You already knew, didn't you?" Rosalie asks, finishing her second glass of wine, going to pour a third. I shrug my shoulders in response. Sipping some of the blood after that horrible alcohol.

"She was a good friend, didn't matter to me. I also have two loves of my life. I can't get too greedy." I lean back onto Jasper, and laying my leg over Alice.

It's been about two hours of us talking and joking around over stupid shit before Emmett stands up, having to use Rosalie to keep himself up. She lets him which surprises me. Drunk Rosie is definitely more calm. It's kind of silly to see. Her anger kind of disappears.

Alice is more handsy and Jasper is more vocal. Letting loose. "Last one to the water is... is a loser!" Emmett huffs out, about to use his speed but then trips and ends up falling into the water instead. Jasper gets up, laughing. Following behind but helps him up.

"Man, I think you're the loser." I hear my boyfriend say, laughing heartedly. Something I don't think I hear often. I smile, standing up. "You heard the man, don't be a loser." I kiss Alice swiftly. Running into the water.

The two girls don't rush into the water, only going in to their ankles. I go to say something to them but I get dragged under the water. Hands stay on my shoulders to keep me down. I open my eyes once I register what's happening. I put my arms back behind me and take the legs of my attacker. Lifting myself up, bringing them under water with me. I laugh as I finally reach the surface. Emmett stands up, his drunken self swaying still as before. "It's so on, Hybie." He murmurs, going to attack me again but I move out of the way. I'm definitely drunk but not as much as him.

"You missed!" I laugh out, easily blocking every attack. Splashing him so he can't see me. "Just give up, bird brain!" I yell at him, Jasper cheers me on. Telling me to just attack him. "Never." He huffs out angrily. His large arms almost get me but I get out of the hold quickly. Running over to Alice and Rosalie to save me. I get behind them. He slowly stands out of the water. Standing in front of them.

"Rosie, baby, move." He points, motioning for her to move over. She doesn't say anything but I can tell she made some sort of face for his eyes to soften. "Please, baby." He pleads with her. She sighs. Then in a quick motion I wasn't expecting to happen she pushes me over to him. Getting him to lift me up.

"Rosalie!!! You traitor!!" I screamed, flailing my body around. "I'm sorry!" She laughs back to me. "Oh don't worry, you're next!" I yell just as I get thrown under the water. For the next five minutes it's me and Emmett fighting with one another. Lifting each other up and down into the water. Our bodies repeatedly hitting the lake floor.

The others could feel every time our bodies hit it as well. Forgetting our strength most of the time.

"All right, all right. I'm dizzy." Emmett stops me from getting him again. I cross my arms. "Weak." I mumble under my breath. "What ever." He grumbles, shoving me away from him with a smirk.

After all the rough housing I climb onto Jasper, wrapping my legs around him. Alice and Rosalie were sitting in the shallow part of the water, talking about something as Emmett joins them. Laying his head on Rosie's lap.

I kiss Jasper repeatedly. "Did you have fun, darlin?" He asks me, I bite my lip, glancing back to our set up on the sand and then back to his face. "The most." I nod my head, kissing his lips once more. Jumping up a little bit to get a better position on him. He grunts a little. Holding me closer.

"Was this a distraction from something?" I quietly quizzed him. Laying my head on his shoulder. "No, just some fun before reality hits further." He kisses my neck sweetly.

I hum softly, squeezing my legs around him. "Don't start something right now. I can't hold back with this alcohol. I'll even do it in front of Rosalie and Emmett at this point." I whisper to him softly, nibbling at his ear. He snickers. "Looks like Alice is all for it." He whispers back and I throw my head back groaning. "Stop." I warn him.

"Seriously, you sickos." Rosalie yells at us. We look at her and laugh. "I wouldn't mind." Emmett shrugs his shoulders, his head still on Rosalie's lap.

"Gross, bird brain." I laugh.

Master list

A&J M.L.

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[kairaloi]

"What did it look like before you cleaned?" he asked.

Reed went to the windows. They were dusty and undisturbed.

"Well… His Highness's hairpin was on the floor. But that's it," Marigold said. She pulled her apron between her hands, starting to get nervous with Patrick and Reed’s serious tone.

"Hard to make a mess when he's the only thing in here," Patrick admitted as he turned slowly, looking around the room as well. “Has anyone else been to see him this morning?”

“No. Everyone’s busy getting ready for dinner tonight,” Marigold said.

“How long was he alone in here?” Patrick asked, pulling out a notebook to start writing her answers.

“Eh…” she shifted nervously. “We’ve left him alone before. Why is it suddenly a problem?”

Reed knelt to look at the floor. Patrick was a good investigator, but some things he just wasn’t going to think to look for. Although Reed wasn't sure what he was looking for either. Circles of salt? Candle wax? Mythiric was a world that had a rich history of magic and swords that could cut stone, but all that was in the past. They’d lost the knowledge about two thousand years prior when the first queen of Durshand had purged the corrupt priests of some demon religion. His history lessons had been over five years ago and his disappointment that he couldn’t sling fireballs or summon monsters as pets had caused him to lose interest.

“It’s not a problem,” Patrick assured. “We’re just… looking into something.”

Marigold fidgeted. "Reed? What are you doing?"

"I'd say it was witchcraft, but y'all ain't got that here." He got up, dusting his hands and pants. Ten years he'd been in this world, and all that time he'd thought soullessness was just this low-technology world's way of describing birth defects. Boy, was I wrong… Apparently, inert lumps of flesh can spontaneously become complete assholes.

"What?"

"Never mind," Reed said in English, then waved it off. Correcting to Durrish, he asked, “Can you answer the question, Marigold?”

Find out what's happening on Tapas!

[onepiece-writting-forest]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Summary: In the middle of exams and a diet of instant noodles, you decide to order some take out. What you did not expect was your delivery person to be a hot guy on a motorcycle, who, as fate would have it, happens to be a fellow student at your university.

chapter notes.: Penguin and Shachi being really interested in who Law had a study date with, and mentioning of Laws ex gf, also uncle Rosi mentions <3

tags.: One Piece, Trafalgar Law, Law x Reader, NSFW, slow burn romance (?), Modern AU, law has a motorcycle cuz its hot, Penguin and Shachi appearing as flat mates, Rosinante as the loving uncle, Laws crazy Ex,

[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Law wanted to text you. He felt a bit guilty for leaving so abruptly without a proper goodbye. Maybe he could use the chance to apologize for his quick disappearance or, better yet, set up another study session. He had to admit, the last one had been surprisingly productive—way more than he’d expected. Your structured notes made it easier for him to memorize the material, and that wasn’t something that happened often.

Initially, he agreed to study with you because he was running out of time and figured someone who always seemed to be buried in their books could save him some effort. It might’ve sounded opportunistic—and honestly, it was. Sure, he enjoyed your company, but the main reason was to cram effectively. He wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself, that your presence actually helped him unwind, even for just a moment.

Still, he couldn't find the right time to message you. Walking home with Penguin, he didn't want to risk sending a text and having to deal with his teasing. Penguin already joked that their "study date" was more of an actual date, and that was already irritating enough. Even if it was something more, it wasn’t any of his business.

“By the way, those puns were terrible. Seriously, you’ve got to cut them, Peng,” Law muttered as he dropped onto the worn-out couch in their living room. Penguin already popping open a cold beer and handing one over to Law.

Before Penguin could defend himself, Shachi strolled out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck, his damp brown hair pushed back, still dripping slightly. He was already dressed in his usual comfortable clothes and hearing the conversation, he wanted to comment on Penguins thesis as well, which he also proof read for him.

"Yeah, Peng. You're supposed to impress your professor with your thesis, not make him cringe."

"Guys, come on, there's a strategy here!" Penguin held up his hands in mock defense, already sensing the incoming wave of criticism. He sat down next to Law and wanted to explain his…creative way of writing.

Both Law and Shachi exchanged suspicious looks but gave Penguin a chance to talk.

“My professor is basically a walking dad joke. I figured slipping in a couple of puns would make it more… relatable, you know?”

Shachi frowned, grabbing a beer before slumping onto the couch next to them. “Dude, it's an academic thesis, not open mic night. Are you sure that's the right call?”

Law was quiet for a second, considering it. Then he shrugged. "If your professor’s into that sort of thing, maybe toss one in... but just one. At the conclusion or something.”

“Are you seriously encouraging this?” Shachi raised his eyebrows, clearly in disbelief, especially coming from Law.

Law took a long sip from his beer, then shrugged again, nonchalant as ever. Maybe it was his exhausted mind talking nonsense, but honestly he didn’t really mind it if there was a reason. It didn’t sound stupid.

"Look, it's not like anyone else is gonna read it, and if the professor enjoys that kind of humor, why not? But, for the love of god, Penguin—just one pun. You’ve got way too many in there. It’s distracting."

Penguin sighed and leaned back against the couch, nodding. Law noticed his shift in demeanor—maybe constantly criticizing his work wasn’t the best idea. After all, Penguin had poured months into that thesis, combing through scientific papers, fitting them into his argument, all while completely neglecting his health and barely taking any breaks. Law knew that both his friends were sharp, even though they liked to goof around a lot. Law couldn't deny that. Penguin was knee-deep in marine biology, while Shachi tackled mechanical engineering. Both degrees demanded a lot from students, and Law had nothing but respect for their dedication.

“Besides the puns, it's a solid thesis,” Law said in his usual flat tone, reaching for the remote to turn on their small TV. It sat precariously on a makeshift shelf they’d salvaged from a dumpster. After a few minor repairs, it became somewhat usable.

They had agreed early on not to let their apartment turn into a disaster zone but also didn’t want to spend much money on new furniture. Despite that, the place had a cozy charm. Each of them had pitched in, decorating with random posters they’d stumbled upon, pictures of the group, or bits and pieces they’d brought from home. It was an unspoken rule to keep it reasonably clean. Sure, there were occasionally pots “soaking” in the sink for far too long, and maybe some breadcrumbs were left scattered on the floor, but overall, the place wasn’t a mess.

Hearing the first bit of positive feedback from Law, Penguin looked over, his eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

Shachi also noticing that some positive feedback was probably more constructive than just criticism, he was ready to lift the mood, giving Penguin a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Yeah, man! It’s a great read. I’m sure you’ll ace it. Seriously, stop worrying.”

“Honestly, the only thing I found to fix were those puns, anything else was good.” Law added, propping his head in his hand, his attention still on the TV. That was probably the most support you could get out of Law, generally speaking but also considering how drained he was.

Penguin’s face lit up with a wide smile, finally relaxing into the couch. After all the stress, getting approval from Law and Shachi felt good. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot!“

That being said, a comfortable silence settled between the three young men, which Law was very eager to enjoy. To his dismay however, Penguin wasn’t one to just sit there in silence and spilled the beans out of nowhere, now shifting the attention to Law. „By the way, Law was out with a girl.”

Law’s eyes narrowed in an instant. “I take it back. Your thesis is shit.” He shot Penguin a death glare, knowing exactly where this was headed. Shachi perked up immediately, practically sliding over for the incoming gossip.

“Oh ho ho, really?” He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning like a kid with a secret. “Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, man! You should’ve seen her! The way she—”

“I swear, Penguin, I’ll rewrite your entire thesis with nothing but dad jokes and send it straight to your professor.”

“C’mon, Law!” Shachi joined in, unable to resist. “You never go out with anyone. Obviously, we’re curious!”

Law rolled his eyes, trying to shut out the teasing, but the smug grins from both Shachi and Penguin made it clear he wasn’t escaping this conversation easily. He took a long swig from his beer and let out a dramatic sigh. “We were just studying.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure," Shachi waved off the uninteresting part, leaning forward with a grin. "How’d you meet? At uni? In a lab?”

Law could tell Shachi wasn’t interested in hearing what they were studying. It had been years since Law had anything serious with someone, and even that had fizzled out quickly. His last real relationship, back at the start of university, had been a disaster—his ex was a little... unhinged, to say the least. Aside from that, there were the occasional one-night stands after parties, but nothing anyone would consider serious.

He hesitated, thinking of a way to dodge the subject. But he remembered how often his uncle, had told him to open up more, at least to Penguin and Shachi. They were practically his brothers, after all. Law knew these two could handle his closed-off nature—they’d been doing it for years. If anyone deserved a peek past his walls, it was them. Rosinante was right after all.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. “I met her during work.”

Penguin’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, while you were delivering food? How did you even end up meeting her like that?”

It was a fair question. Delivering food didn’t exactly lend itself to romantic meet-cutes, and Law wasn’t exactly Mr. Charisma when it came to flirting. It was hard to imagine how this had come about.

“Yep, brought her food,” Law replied, keeping it deliberately vague, the mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He knew that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy them and was clearly enjoying dragging it out.

Penguin, not amused by the teasing, gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Oh, come on! You can’t just leave it at that!”

Law smirked, savoring the moment. He tried to play it cool, but his friends were too excited to let him brush it off. Sure, your company was comforting, you were smart, and yes, you were undeniably pretty—but Law barely knew you. He’d only met you once outside of that study session, and he wasn’t about to jump to conclusions.

“Yeah, last week or so, I brought her order and—,” Law began, leaning back into the couch, his voice steady.

“Oh, the night you had to work overtime and finish that other assignment?” Shachi asked, recalling how exhausted Law had looked when he got home. He’d been worried—those dark circles under Law’s eyes seemed to be getting worse every day. Shachi had been silently wondering if Law was pushing himself too close to a burnout.

Law nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah, that night. She brought me some water, and—”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of her!” Penguin interrupted with a grin, earning a sharp look from Law.

“Can I finish without you two chiming in every five seconds?” Law huffed, clearly not used to being in the spotlight like this.

“Sorry, sorry,” Penguin chuckled, leaning back and gesturing for Law to continue. He could barely contain his excitement, but he tried.

“Anyway, she asked why I looked so rushed, and turns out she’s doing meds too—studying for the same exam next week.” Law shrugged like it was no big deal. “She suggested we study together. Saved me some time to work with someone who’s ahead of me.”

Shachi and Penguin exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. She suggested it?” Shachi asked, eyes wide.

“Yup.” Law met their gaze, already anticipating where this was going.

Shachi and Penguin looked at each other again, clearly having an unspoken conversation, before turning back to Law, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. They both leaned forward like parents about to explain the facts of life to their clueless child.

“Dude, she definitely has a thing for you,” Penguin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Law just gave a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean ‘nah’? She went out of her way to ask you to study with her,” Shachi insisted, looking at Law like he was the densest person on the planet. “People don’t do that for just anyone.”

Law’s expression remained unreadable. “She just wanted to study. We’re in the same degree. It's not that deep.”

Penguin shook his head, grinning. “Come on, man. She brings you water, chats you up, and then suggests a study date? You don’t see anything in that?”

Law sighed, trying to stay grounded. “She’s just being nice. I’m not reading into it.”

Shachi laughed, slapping his knee. “You’re hopeless. She’s into you, dude. Mark my words.”

Penguin nodded, clearly enjoying the teasing, while Law rolled his eyes again, though this time, a small grin tugged at his lips. His friends were hopeless romantics, always reading into every tiny gesture, convinced it meant someone was interested. Law, on the other hand, was the complete opposite—almost too oblivious to the idea that anyone could like him in a romantic way. He figured people didn't really go for someone as cold and closed-off as he was. Besides, he didn’t have time for a relationship.

“Remember when you were with Yuki?” Penguin chimed in, leaning back. “You didn’t think she liked you at first either.”

Law groaned. “Yeah… I wish she didn’t.”

Both Penguin and Shachi snickered, fully agreeing. Yuki had been... a handful, to say the least. Law’s brief relationship with her was still a running joke among the three of them.

She was also in meds, coming from the North as well and coincidentally from a neighbouring city. It wasn’t too far from Flevance. Back the Law was missing his home town quite a bit, Yuki had helped ease his homesickness with their shared experience from the North. Honestly she was really nice in the beginning, yet it started to spiral once things got serious. Even after Law ended the relationship, she wouldn’t leave him alone. It was a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship.

“She still texting you?” Shachi asked, making himself comfortable again as if bracing for the gossip.

Law shook his head. “Nope. Blocked her. But I’m pretty sure she’s still following me with a second account on Instagram.”

Shachi let out a dramatic sigh.

“Never stick peepee into crazy.”

At that, all three raised their bottles in unison. “Cheers,” they said together, clinking their bottles and taking a long drink. It was a victory toast—a reminder that Law had finally escaped the whirlwind that was his ex and her drama.

Just as Law was about to refocus on the TV, his phone buzzed. A new message. He casually pulled it out and glanced at the screen—it was from you. Unlocking his phone, he read the text from you. It was simple: a thank-you for today and a question about meeting up again for studying. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it caught his attention enough to make him put his beer aside and reply right away.

Of course, his friends noticed immediately. Penguin leaned in, trying to sneak a glance at Law’s phone. "Y/N… is that her?"

Shachi perked up again, sitting upright, all traces of his earlier relaxation gone. "Oh, oh, what’s she saying?"

Law sighed, turning his phone away from Penguin, who was getting a little too close for comfort. “Ever heard of privacy?” he muttered, giving them both a warning look.

Penguin exchanged a mischievous grin with Shachi. "She wants to meet up again, doesn’t she?"

Law groaned, clearly annoyed. "It's just for studying. Now leave me alone."

“You could invite her over—” Shachi started, the teasing tone back in his voice.

“Definitely not.“

The last thing he needed was his friends playing matchmaker or causing any more awkwardness.

“Fine, fine, you're no fun... but how about this?” Shachi persisted, undeterred by the warning glare from Law. His patience was already wearing thin, and he was starting to regret even mentioning you to his friends, but Shachi was never one to be easily intimidated.

Law sighed, letting him continue. There was no stopping Shachi when he was on a roll.

“Do whatever you want, study for your exam, but if she seems cool, maybe bring her to the party in two weeks?” Shachi suggested casually.

“What party? The one your engineering group is throwing?” Law asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that one. By the way, Ikkaku said she’d come too,” Shachi added quickly, his tone more genuine this time. He wasn't trying to push Law into anything, just offering an idea.

Law looked at him for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It was a simple, friendly offer, not the usual teasing. Shachi knew Law had sworn off dating after Yuki‘s chaotic exit from his life, but he was just trying to help him see that not every connection had to be a disaster.

“Just think about it," Shachi continued. "Study with her, get to know her, and if things feel right, you can bring her along. It's not like you're signing up for a lifelong commitment.”

Penguin chimed in, grinning. “Yeah, man, no one's saying you have to get married. Just have a little fun, meet some people. Who knows?”

Law rolled his eyes but didn’t dismiss the idea outright. He was always packed with work and studying that socializing, let alone dating, had taken a backseat. The idea of bringing you to a party wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He could keep it casual, see where things went—no pressure, no expectations.

“We’ll see,” Law muttered, and took his beer back and leaned into the couch once more. He was glad the topic was over, and he could finally relax…even though you still ghosted around in his mind, especially after what his friends had told him.

Where you really interested?

…Nah, couldn’t be.

tag list: @mars-mizuko (Comment to be added ���)

[herefortheships]

Why would you say people ship Beetlejuice and Lydia? I’ve been a fan for so long I’m just like “huh…why do we ship it?”

Suddenly remembered I hadn’t answered this, and since I can’t sleep right now I’ll answer it! I meant to earlier and forgot.

I personally ship it because I love the concept of monster x human relationships, and especially when one character (usually the male part of the ship when it’s m/f) in this case this character is Betelgeuse, is dark, powerful, often immortal and even terrifying, (in Betelgeuse’s case also unhinged and absolutely crazy lol), and definitely the least you would expect to EVER fall in love, and yet he does fall in love with this other character who happens to be human, mortal, often quiet and also unlikely to fall in love. These two are the least likely to fall for each other, but they do! Then he starts to show a softer, completely unexpectedly romantic side to him that is reserved only for this woman he loves and no one else. She is both his strength and his weakness all at the same time. He is willing to do everything and anything for her.

Often these two characters are complete opposites and at odds with each other (or even enemies!) and yet they find each other in the middle. There is something they find in the other which cannot be replaced or found in anyone else in the world, and as unexpected and unusual and crazy at it is, before they even know it, their connection is forged in a way where they cannot and will not ever belong or fit in with anyone else. They’ve become a part of each other, even when the odds were against them or might be against them forever because they are intrinsically worlds apart. But love just finds them, and they meet in the middle.

I also love this kind of couple a lot when one of the two realizes their connection before the other, like Beetlejuice just knowing Lydia is *the one*, even if he can’t explain to her how he knows or why. This same scenario happens with Spike in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At some point he realized she was the one, and she just got under his skin and became an inseparable part of his being.

Although not always, I believe this type of couple also follows the female gaze, since the male character (as I mentioned above it’s often the male character) shows an interest in the emotions of the female part. This is true in Beetlebabes. He isn’t interested only in her body, but also in honoring her emotions and desires (like Betelgeuse honoring Lydia’s wishes to have a more private wedding and respecting her boundaries by not forcing her to kiss him or something like that, plus making an effort at being romantic by serenading her and giving her an absolutely romantic wedding with a magical dance in the air). These interactions that are more romantic than sexual speak to the female gaze.

I think also that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice had several “Universal fantasies” entwined in the Betelgeuse x Lydia relationship that are just irresistible for many romance lovers and when those are present, our minds just inevitably grab on to those fantasies and identity them whether we are aware of them or not. Our mind just goes yep this is a romance and oh boy what a romance this is and before you know it you are obsessed. If you haven’t read about Universal Fantasies in writing, these are basically just more specific tropes that really speak to audiences in a way that hooks them powerfully to a story, and more specifically to romantic stories. This concept is introduced by Theodora Taylor in her book 7 Figure Fiction (which I’m sure many writers know about since it’s pretty popular but I mention it just in case it’s new to someone reading this).

Another reason lots of people love this ship is just aesthetics as well which is also valid. For me this for sure became one of my top three Burton couples.

[j-nakamura]

♡— Newcomers, Announcements, & Exclusive.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hi everyone! Welcome back to our second article posting of 'TSOTH'. It's an honor for many to be interested in what I have to write! We have multiple students to introduce, so let's get to it!

(click keep reading to see the rest of the article)

Coming into the new year, I am proud to say that we have multiple new students that we should welcome into our school! I got a chance to interview a few of them, so I'm here to give everyone a warm welcome with some personal information that I received from each of them. :)

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Let's start off with Cassie Sandsmark. ( @cassandra-e-sandsmark )

Cassandra Sandsmark is fifteen years old and goes by the pronouns they/she. She is from Gateway City, California (what a long way from home!), and they prefer to have people call them Cassie or Cass.

In the past, she has been to over 5 boarding schools! So let's hope she sticks to the landing with this school and does not get expelled like she did in her past schools. If you bump into them in the hallway, beware! you may end up fighting!

In other good news, they're interested in Soccer and Football. Make sure you go out to those games to support her!

Up next we have Moss Verner! ( @moss-loves-dinosaurs )

Moss Verner is a sixteen-year-old foreign exchange student from New Zealand! They're nearly seventeen, and have been enjoying being in a new country so far! They use the pronouns they/he and go by Moss. Feel free to stop them in the hall to say hello!

So I was informed by a little birdie that Sir Moss Verner had superpowers... However, when I asked about them directly, they had left no comment on the sudden address asking if it was true or not. We may have a new vigilante on our hands, everyone!

Moving on from that little rumor, Moss wanted me to let everyone know that they would be making a new club! A D&D club! Go ahead and message them with any questions you may have about it! I'm sure Moss would greatly appreciate it.

Up next is Jaime Reyes! ( @jaimereyesbug )

Jaime Reyes uses he/him pronouns and is from El Paso, Texas. He's sixteen at the moment but turning seventeen next month! Make sure to wish him a happy birthday once the month hits!

Jaime, unfortunately, is very far away from home. He says he misses his family, but he's glad he got away from that state due to it being extremely homophobic. Good thing he's able to text his family members in order to cure his homesickness!

Speaking of sickness, I think Jaime must've caught the love flu. Considering that notion, be aware of your surroundings as the love flu strikes more victims!

Second to last, we have Corus Lim-W! ( @corus-lim-w )

Corus Lim-W is a sixteen-year-old who uses any pronouns! He requested that people try not to use only one set of pronouns for her, so keep that in mind! They are from Gotham (another one!), and he does not really have any nicknames for people to call them. She did mention that people from their old school called him "Cor'! They're really interested in art so maybe you can bond with him over art classes!

Taking note out of the interview, Corus has been able to tell what would happen before it's happened. I'd say that's some amazing deja vu or far-seeing sight if you asked me!

Now, I have to mention this, but does anyone else wonder what the 'W' stands for in their username? Well, I have a theory.... and I think it fits. The W stands for Wayne! See! Hear me out, he's from Gotham AND who has the biggest name in Gotham that starts with the letter W? BRUCE WAYNE. Could Corus be Mr. Wayne's secret love child?

Finally, we have Mikael (no last name. unfortunate. :'( ) ( @mikael1256 )

Mikael is seventeen years old and was born in New York. I never received what pronouns they prefer so for the majority of this writing process, I will be using they/them strictly due to this fact.

Mikael lives in a family that travels! They traveled all over the place until their father decided to reside in Gotham. While talking about the traveling they did, they mentioned that their favorite place to travel to was Montana.

Now... I'm totally not one to start rumors, but throughout that entire interview, Mikael did not blink once. I promise I am NOT crazy bruh.

Anyways, that wraps up introductions! Let's move on to announcements.

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ANNOUNCEMENTS;

Journalism Club is having a meet & greet event on Thursday @ 4 pm! Come visit and learn more about Journalism. We're recruiting AND free snacks & drinks. Anyone is welcome to come!

The Dance Team is having tryouts on Friday @ the dance studio! Make sure to practice a dance routine so you're able to showcase it on Friday! If you have any more questions, feel free to message Morgan Drew! ( @midrew )

That's all for Announcements. Moving on to our exclusive of the week. :)

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I have been submitted a writing piece to publish in this week's issue! I believe it's written over the newfound popular ship that's been going around called "DukeJay" (so silly).

Here it is and feel free to leave your feedback about it in the comments!

Hands cling to toussled pink hair as brown eyes widen. "Duke..." Jay whispers, pressing his fingers to the other's lip.

Once upon a time his voice would have incited anger in Duke. Irritation, annoyance.

But something about the way the other stared at him with those warm brown eyes sparked something within him. A flutter he struggled to push down.

Wow! That was.... interesting to read!

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Thank you all for reading this week's "The Stories of Tripolis High" issue! I hope you enjoyed reading it! Anyways, Jay Nakamura is out until next time... ;)

[suspiciouslypinkrosegarden]

𓆝 𓆟 Armin Week 2024 𓆝 𓆟

Day 3: Prompt Nerd Armin

Description: Nerd Armin x Shy Nerd Reader. You sit behind Armin in class and want to get to know him! Relationship to Armin as well as school (whether it's high school or uni) is left undefined, for all ages, stages and how you personally see Armin. Gender neutral as always.

I didn't have too much time to edit/write, so sorry if flow isn't great! I wanted something quick and cute lol

Pretty blue eyes hidden behind thick black glasses, and a terrible habit of raising his hand with a level of excitement that no one else seemed to have. Armin was the boy who sat in front of you during this class, staring at the back of his blond head more than the white board most days as you zoned out to the background noise of lecture. He always seemed to shrink as the teacher would ask for anyone else to answer the question presented, as if suddenly ashamed he was ten steps ahead of the rest of his peers. 

As he entered the classroom each day, the charms and pins on his back pack usually caught your eye, clinking of plastic turning your head in his direction. You admired the way he seemed to show off his interests without shame, everything he owned decked out with references to what sparked his personal joy. This was what helped you take notice of him in the first place, eyes immediately drawn to the wings of freedom sticker on his laptop he carried with him everywhere he went. You wondered if he was looking forward to seeing the finale in theaters soon to be released.

As a couple of weeks passed, summer gone as the leaves fell brown upon the ground, you found yourself collecting data on him subconsciously thanks to his decoration based transparency. A Star Wars notebook, anime keychains, ocean themed stickers, and assorted pencil toppers or themed pens which he’d occasionally chew on. He was a nerd right to his core, and suddenly your few items felt pale in comparison to his elaborately crafted image. Call Armin what you will, but you wanted to get to know him as someone with similar interests and no one to share them with. 

In this new semester, you were determined to initiate a conversation somehow, neither of you usually speaking to each other unless instructed to do so for chapter discussions. He already had close friends unlike you, rushing off after class to join together as part of a solid trio, making it hard to say anything as the hour and a half came to a close. He seemed reserved as someone content with his friend group already, while you seemed reserved as someone usually too nervous to speak. But today you’d do your best to reach out to Armin yet again, hoping something small could come of it. 

Before lecture, your hand stretched forward in an attempt to tap his back, stopping as he received a phone call from one of his friends about a movie tonight. You pulled away. As the teacher prattled on about an unrelated topic, you tried to make a joke regarding its lack of importance to what you were learning, but he just didn’t hear you. You stayed silent the rest of class. Instructed to share summaries on last night’s reading, he turned to look at the girl to his right instead of back at you. You almost audibly sighed. And once the clock reached its anticipated time, you stood up in another day’s defeat, spilling out the open contents of your pencil case sitting on your lap and not the desk. 

The noise was loud, plastic and wood clattering against the shiny flooring as items rolled underneath the many rows of black chairs. You felt embarrassed, but for once Armin seemed to not want to rush out of class. As you knelt to start collecting your belongings, you watched as he leveled with you on the ground to start doing the same. His hands gently passed you your Sanrio pens, and it was him who decided to speak first. 

“Your pens are cute…is Cinnamoroll your favorite? I’ve got a pin of him on my bag.” 

You smiled, noticing how he suddenly seemed a bit timid.

“Actually, Mocha is my favorite, but merchandise for her is impossible to find. I noticed your pin a while back and actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you I like your keychains and such.”

You let it all out, ignoring how heavy any of your excitement might come across to be.

“I like your R2D2 notebook too…and I saw your Starship Enterprise charm on your bag-”

He brought his hand up to his face, pushing his thick black glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he cut you off. There was a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, and you saw his shyness slowly melt away at the introduction of topics he was familiar with.

“So…you’ve seen the original Star Trek too?”

[aayakashii]

Excuse me, tumblr user aayakashii, but if I could ask for a morsel of content? I made a post about king jin x court jester reader and mentioned how it would be an interesting yandere dynamic. Your name got mentioned, and then I also saw you had liked it, so if you had any thoughts? That? Would be cool?

But absolutely no pressure! I was just curious about what a yandere dynamic would look like when jin is obsessed with someone who does fit the servant role.

Sorry for the rambling! Thank you for reading my request, and I hope it finds you well! And please feel free to go as dark as you want with it if the mood strikes you

-@lucky-lucky-duck☆ (user name change ^^")

Of course tumblr user @lucky-lucky-duck 🫡

Okay I had to think looooong and haaaaard about this one because it's an interesting concept, but, as you said, it can turn dark very quickly. I'm not sure if I analyzed it properly tbh, but I hope this gives you a nice idea of how I think the dynamic would go.

First, Jin as a yandere in his usual setting would probably be an extremely controlling man. He'd demand MC to be at his beck and call at any given moment and would probably tell them what they can or cannot do, what to wear, what to say, basically how exist as "his property".

I've had someone say that it's a bit upsetting that the boys as yanderes see MC as an object to possess, but that's just how most yanderes act; they might love their darling, but most of all, they're obsessed – they want to possess them. It's the nature of a yandere character, so I'd have to say Jin would be the blueprint for that.

Now, in that king x court jester dynamic, things would escalate A LOT MORE.

I researched the accurate definition of what a jester used to do, and they used to be "a member of the household of a nobleman or a monarch employed to entertain guests during royal court."

Okay, well. Forget about entertaining other people. You'd be Jin's personal plaything, and no one else would be allowed to watch your lovely acts. And of course, that would allow him to demand more intimate ways of entertainment too...

You'd have to be ready to be his pillow; to light his cigarettes; to smother him in kisses and sweet words whenever he got stressed; to follow him around wherever he went like a loyal puppy; and, just like one, he'd expect you to never complain.

You're the king's favorite, how dare you complain about not being free? You have privileges no other jester could ever have!

And what if the king had a queen? Well, that would not matter at all. You'd still be tied to him, even if he was married to someone. The king's consort would sit beside him, but you'd be perched on his lap, petting his hair and being entirely open to his touches.

You're just a jester after all, and he's the king. No one bats an eye, even as he holds you so possessively.

Jin would be quicker to ditch his consort than let go of you, but he would rather not admit it.

If anyone wants to marry him, they have to understand that he's just too attached to his little pet. See, they're so cute, so entertaining, so welcoming to his touches. How could he ever let them go?

Basically, being the king's jester would be akin to having a collar and a leash on your neck forever. The most powerful man would be able to move mountains just to have you under his constant watch. You'd have no freedom, and his obsession would be overlooked. You'd have no one to save you and nowhere to run.

But that's what you wanted, right?

[queenlua]

hey. hey. what mtg deck would naesala play?

Naesala doesn’t play Magic: the Gathering.  what do you think he is, some kind of nerd?

…that’s what he says, at least. except, at some point, Leanne gets her hands on some cards & omigosh there are ANGELS on here and they’re so pretty!!! & so now she has an ANGELS DECK & she wants Naesala to play, so he’s like “fine i guess”

(this is when they’re all still young and precious and adorable.  also: Ice Age is the hot new set of cards in town.  no one is actually good at Magic yet, the only way you learn the rules is via exciting rumors on the playground, the metagame advances at the pace of a monthly Scrye magazine subscription, etc)

ANYWAY.  Naesala starts out just playing whatever pile of cards Leanne hands to him & is perfectly happy getting rolled by her; he’s really treating it as a social hanging-out kinda thing, kinda like pinochle or whatever

except then Reyson makes a whole THING of it, y’know.  he shows up with his own aggressively handcrafted green/white deck and he’s going to BEAT Naesala and that’s going to make him stop bugging LEANNE.  (i mean, it won’t, but insert whatever adolescent boy logic you like here)

Naesala doesn’t care that much about winning either way, but he *is* a horrible troll and enjoys rankling Reyson

so that’s when he bothers walking into an Actual Hobby Shop for the first time (taking care not to touch anything more than he has to) (when is the last time anyone dusted this place or wiped down a counter, gross) & he asks if they have a copy of The Official Rules & he then proceeds to read them cover-to-cover

and thus, the following week, he’s the one that breaks the news to Reyson, mid-game, that regeneration can’t save your creatures from Wrath of God & Reyson is PISSED.  “that’s not fair” “it’s the rules” “you hafta SAY that first” “sorry Reyson but your river boa is dead” etc etc insert childish squabbling here

anyway.  fast-forward a bunch of years + one genocide later, and, dang, it’s been a while since Naesala and Reyson talked, huh?

Naesala hasn’t touched the game much in the interim.  i mean, he’s played some, because he’s got this one annoying underling who’s really into it, and part of being a good leader is very occasionally letting your hair down & letting everyone dunk on you in some goofy multiplayer MtG game in the mess hall.  so he has a couple gimmicky decks he’s thrown together for casual play.  he’s got a Relentless Rats + Thrumming Stone deck.  he’s got a goofy Tinker deck—he put it together when he was REALLY out of the loop, and thought he’d discovered this great new combo no one else had noticed—he was pissed when he learned that card had been banned, like, two years ago, dude.

but his main deck is this black/white weenie deck that he’s cobbled together over the years—it’s charmingly old school but still holds up reasonably well.  it’s got Hypnotic Specter and Order of the Ebon Hand and Order of the White Shield and Hymn to Tourach, and he’s thrown in a Stromgald Crusader and a Damnation and such over time, it doesn’t exactly adhere to good modern deck design principles but it generally puts in a respectable showing.

meanwhile, Reyson has gotten *way* too into MtG—like, uncomfortably into it. have you ever had a friend who got Way Into A Particular Hobby Because They Were Clearly Desperately Unhappy About Something Else In Their Life? And They’re Trying To Tell You About All This Insane Hobby Drama That They’re WAY Too Invested In And You’re Trying To Find A Subtle Way To Tell Them Bro Get A Little Bit Of A Life Please?  yeah, that.

i mean, it’s understandable!!!  he can’t possibly compete with the hawks in all their reindeer games, dude just literally does not have the muscle, but there is a decent contingent of hawks that are pretty into MtG so he is determined to dominate there.

Reyson is not a natural talent at the game, but he’s a total grind, so he is in fact the most dominant MtG player on all of Phoenicis.  so when Naesala shows up in Phoenicis for the first time in years and years, and Reyson's got all these Unresolved Feelings about that whole deal, of course he challenges Naesala to a game of MtG, yugioh frenemy style, to test his friendship mettle or something

Reyson’s playing a ridiculously aggro red/black deck.  i’m thinking some good filthy gargadon rakdos.  just on and on and on the attack

so Naesala gets out his charmingly old school black/white weenie deck, kinda rolling his eyes, but sure he’ll give Reyson a game if he wants a game, no Reyson he doesn’t know if it’s a standard legal deck or not but it’s the deck he’s got, will you shut up and just play—

and Reyson’s mostly dominating, but Naesala’s doing his level best to hang in there, and the match comes to a rather dramatic climax when Naesala manages to stabilize during one of the games & he taps out to cast a 5-mana big boi—

and, yeah, of course Naesala’s janky old school black/white deck has a Serra’s Angel as a win condition & yeah it’s the exact same one Leanne gifted him years and years ago & they both know it.

they end the game pretty quickly & awkwardly after that & neither of them remembers who actually won.

(wow this Naesala guy is such a simp.  god this is such a fucking cheesy moment.  i hate this, hold on, i’m gonna go throw up in my mouth a little… OKAY i’m back.)

ANYWAY.  all that plays out, doot dee doo, fast forward to post-Radiant Dawn:

* Reyson’s a very happy red/white Boros player these days.  he has chilled out a little bit but is still pretty easy to bait into getting Mad And Competitive again.  (Tibarn frequently does this because it’s kind of cute when Reyson’s pissed about magical cards) ((Tibarn’s decks are absolute piles, oh my god.  just the most janky barely-functional Timmy stuff imaginable. someone explain the concept of a mana curve to this poor man))

* Leanne still likes ANGELS!!!! & also white weenie stuff & also cute stuff generally.  despite her benign appearance & her weakness for playing Cute Stuff over Good Stuff, she’s a more naturally talented player than Reyson & has just enough of a killer instinct to generally come out on top

* Naesala favors black, and mostly just tries to figure out whatever deck he can play to troll his local meta, but he’s still got that black/white deck in a sentimental drawer somewhere.

also: look, i don’t play Commander nearly enough to provide any substantive commentary on that front, but… my very first instinct, when i read this question, was: “this bitch would definitely run Braids, Cabal Minion as his commander.”  except i looked it up and apparently Braids is Very Banned In Commander.  boo.  does the format ban fun, too.  c’mon, let a dude ruin everyone’s game every once in a while!!!  i think Naesala is equally pissed about Braids being banned is what i’m saying

so yeah that is my complete theory of Naesala And Magic The Gathering lol

[creatingblackcharacters]

(This is a little messy as I still have things to flesh out and also don’t want to give you an insane amount to read through. How is he looking as a Black character?) Darryl Carter Michaels Darryl is a young Black man with a flair for the theatrical and a never ending curiosity. He has a love for fantasy, musicals, and fiction in general. While he is a capable singer and actor, having been in theater throughout his school years, he tends to prefer working behind the scenes. He enjoys making the magic happen and seeing how things work. Having lost his birth parents to a car accident when he was just shy of two years old, he was raised by a well off mixed race couple who believed they could not conceive. His father, a Black man, and mother, a white woman, loved him just as they would their own flesh and blood. They showered him in love, attention, and any material good he could ever want. When Darryl was five years old, his parents were shocked to learn they had conceived. His parents made sure to thoroughly explain the situation to their son and give him lots of love and encouragement to be a big brother. Even so, the preparations did take away some of their attention that would usually go to Darryl. When his twin sisters arrived, he was both excited and jealous. While his father was certain to give Darryl the love and attention he needed, his mother was more wrapped up in her new babies than anyone or anything else. While the mother did give Darryl more attention as the girls aged and could better handle themselves, things were never quite the same between them. It felt more like he was a nephew of hers, rather than her son. His father, on the other hand, was just as loving as he always was, sharing his love equally between his son and two daughters. The twin girls loved Darryl and Darryl was loving and protective of them. He takes pride in being their older brother. As Darryl grew up, he tried to win his mother’s love the way it used to be, excelling in school, performing as an actor, and being the best person he could possibly be. When he got older, he realized it was a futile task and seemed to settle for what he had; a loving father, fantastic sisters, and a mostly loving mother. During his time in college, his perspective changed. He met his best friend, Joyce, a Black trans woman who taught him to see the value in himself and realize it was his mother who was in the wrong. After graduation, Darryl decided to confront his mother about her behavior and not put up with it any longer. He moved to another city (a bit over an hour away) and is now trying to find himself without judging his value based on his mother. He still keeps in contact with his father and sisters, still visiting on occasion, but has a tenuous relationship with his mother. She wants to rekindle what they once had, but knows it will take time and a great effort on her part. Meanwhile, Darryl met Audrey Davis, the woman who will one day be his wife. Between her, Joyce, his father, his sisters, and Audrey’s family, he has more love than he could ever know what to do with.

Hell of a story, especially as someone with Value of Mother™ issues. I hope she does right by him, he deserves it. Sounds good to me 👍🏾