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joshfutturman · 1 month

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'i'll crawl home to you' 18+

oneshot - david is leaving for his mission tomorrow, neither of you want to say goodbye. you have one last night together. (2.6k) pairing - david (long gone heroes 2024) & afab!reader (gn pronouns) a/n - life works fast but a thirsty jhutch fan works faster. :3 ik he's in the trailer for 0.2 seconds but i needed a fic now using what we know so far! yes the title is a hozier reference tags - sappy, established relationship, oral (reader receiving), wet mentions, handjob, p in v, unprotected sex, reader rides david, angsty, david whimpers lol, slight dirty talk, pet names.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

the words between you are charged, heated, dripping with emotion. how can you let him go? his eyes glisten in the moonlight sneaking into the window of your small apartment, your eyes mirror his - but you can't cry, you can't, you can't waste a single second.

your hands are on his chest, tracing softly across his shirt. the silence lingers in the air, words unspoken. suddenly his hands are cupping your cheeks, forcing your wandering gaze to land on him.

"baby," david whispers, voice trembling, "i'll be back soon, i promise. ."

you don't believe him.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your cheek, then finally your lips. and you melt into him, instantly leaning forward as you grip his shirt, almost afraid to let go. you'd hoped that his background and specialisation in technology would keep him away from the front lines. yet, here you were, preparing to say goodbye.

it's one word you couldn't bring yourself to say, 'goodbye'. because you're afraid that the moment it leaves your lips, you'll break down. you're afraid it'll be the last thing you'll ever say to him. no word or sentence feels good enough, feels big enough.

so you both leave that word behind for now, for tonight.

your lips dance with his, moving fluidly together until your tongue seeks entry into his mouth. he gasps softly, his grip on your cheeks growing tighter as he pulls you back against the wall, steadying himself. david pants softly through the kiss, hand tracing along your cheek to find its place at the back of your head, guiding you closer.

his little sounds, oh how you love them - soft gasps and whimpers that he tries to swallow back, tries to drown out within the shape of your mouth.

he takes a step forward causing you to step backwards, following his lead obediently as he leads you to the bed. you'd follow him anywhere. you feel the plush mattress behind your knees and let him guide you down as he nestles on top of you. relishing his body above yours, you tug at his belt, but he quickly brings a hand down to guide you away. he wants something else first.

pulling back from the kiss, he looks into your eyes - and fuck, you can't explain the emotion that washes over you, the surge of feelings that threaten to bring words crashing to the surface of your lips. before you know it, he's kissing along your jaw, trailing his loving lips down the curve of your neck.

david finds his home at the apex of your legs, spreading your legs apart and squeezing at your thighs, kneading the soft skin there as it gives way to his movements. he knows you're wet already, he can see it clear as day - the way you're leaking through your shorts. the room is dark, but he's thankful for the small slivers of moonlight that manage to find their way inside to illuminate you just enough for him to make out that body of yours that he loves so much.

he wants to say he's going to miss this, to miss you.

. . . but the look in his eyes speaks volumes, he doesn't need to say anything.

lifting one of your legs, he brings your ankle to his lips, kissing along your silky skin, up over your calf before he nuzzles between your thighs. instantly, your hand is on the back of his head, fingertips gripping his hair, silently asking for more.

your eyes find his as he looks up at you, watching the beads of sweat form on his forehead from the clammy room - the environment growing hotter by the second as he anticipates tasting you. his hands snake up to pull your shorts down, being gentle with you, worshipping you like it's his last chance.

tossing them to the side, he takes a second to remove his shirt and you can't help but bite your lip at the sight of him. his fuzzy chest, lightly tanned skin, eyes trailing the line of hair that leads right down to his happy trail, disappearing into his shorts.

his head lowers again, wrapping his arms around your thighs and immediately his tongue licks a stripe across your underwear earning a soft hiss from you. your head spins, the friction so light, not quite what you're craving but almost. honestly, you'd take anything he wanted to give you, david never has to try hard to get you off.

david's eyes close, sucking and licking through the fabric, practically growling against you, sending vibrations throughout your core. you're moaning loudly already, you can't help it, he knows your body like it's his own. . . he knows how to make you feel good, his head between your thighs practically every time he can get his hands on you.

before you know it, you're grinding up against his lips and he groans in approval, sliding your underwear to the side to really taste you. there's something about the quiet bedroom being filled with only the sounds of your soft gasps, his groans and the subtle almost inaudible licking against you - that really gets you whining.

you suck your stomach in, feeling as his tongue glides lazily across you. and god, you love the way he looks with his tongue hanging from his mouth as he diligently laps at you, eyes glazed with pure want, fucking drunk from your taste.

but he doesn't want you to cum yet.

pulling back, your muscles relax at his absence, melting into the bed. and it's not long before you're craving him again, aching to have him, to be filled. you want all of him, you want to memorise the feel of his fingers pumping inside of you, the feeling of his veiny cock thrusting deep, that look in his eye when he's about to cum. . .

you want to remember everything.

he's lining himself up, but not before you reach down to take him in your hand, wanting - no, needing to feel him. he mutters something that sounds like a pet name, whatever it is that he said was laced with relief.

his cock is throbbing, palms resting on your thighs as he bucks into your fist. you watch as his eyes flutter closed, lips parting as he pants. just as quickly as they close, they open again and he's looking down at you through those thick, beautiful eyelashes of his. david's eyes trail across your body as though he's committing you to memory.

"so pretty, my pretty boy. . ." you coo, pumping him a little faster.

it's the first words you've spoken in what feels like forever, pretty boy rings in his ears over and over. he bites his lip and nods, a hand inching beneath your shirt and resting on the plush skin of your stomach to steady himself. the sensation of his hand against your skin feels so good, enjoying his thick digits spreading across your stomach. you wonder if his hands will feel as soft when he returns.

you see that familiar look on his face, the way his brows twitch upwards, jaw-dropping a little further, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows harshly. he's gonna cum.

the movement stills, your hand withdrawing from him and it brings him back to earth suddenly. his eyes dart down to yours and he takes his hand from your thigh to grab his cock, positioning it against your begging entrance.

slowly, he runs his tip along your dripping folds as he pushes your underwear to the side once more, biting his lip at the combined sensation of your soaked skin and the way your underwear creates more friction against his hard length. you can't help but let out a whiny moan as his dick brushes past your sensitive clit. a few more passes and he begins to sink into you. his mouth falls open into an o shape and he pushes against your stomach.

you move your thighs wider, opening up for him, practically inviting, (or maybe begging), him inside. you weren't even completely undressed, still in your shirt and underwear - but that's no obstacle for him, for either of you.

"that's it. . ." he whispers, lowering himself as he places his hand beside your head, lips inches from yours as his other hand stays firmly planted on your tummy, "that's it baby, just like that. . ."

his fucking voice, you couldn't handle it when he gets low and raspy like that, like you know it's taking all of his self-control not to just buck into you and bury himself deep on the first thrust. but you were taking him so well, his eyes glancing down to watch his thick cock disappear inside of you.

in your mind you can see it, the way he fills you up so perfectly like he was made for you. and he was.

your hand cups his cheek, the other gripping at his wrist on your stomach to keep it in place. you lock eyes as he pushes in deeper before eventually bottoming out, his hips gently coming into contact with yours.

he huffs, swallowing hard as he closes his eyes for a moment - he'll cum too soon if he thinks too hard, he wants you so fucking badly. he wants to fuck you all night, to have you in every position, every room in the apartment. pressed against the window so everyone can see, in the shower with your leg hoisted up as he pumps into you from behind, on the sofa as you ride him - he wanted you every single way.

because after tonight, he knows it could be forever and a day until he sees you again - if at all. and that thought sticks in the back of his mind, creeping into his thoughts and eating away at the anxiety that was already bubbling there without his permission.

your thumb brushes against his cheek, trying to coax him back to reality, bring him back into the moment. "david, baby. . ." you murrmur, "where did you go? stay with me."

his eyes find yours in the darkness, unaware he'd even lost himself in his thoughts. "i'm sorry. . ." he whispers, "i'm sorry. . ." david repeats, leaning in to kiss you softly, apologetically, tenderly.

he doesn't need to say, doesn't need to speak his worries aloud. you knew where his mind went, because yours was there too.

breaking the kiss, you whisper once more, "stay with me," and you press your forehead to his as his hips begin to move. breath hitching in your throat, you feel as his cock slips out and then back in with ease. you both sigh in satisfaction as he finally begins to fuck you.

david is setting a steady pace, brows arching in concentration as he loses himself in the feeling of being inside of you. your body is pushed into the mattress with each thrust, moans spilling from your lips, your wetness creating lewd damp noises as his hips connect with yours.

your hands wrap around his body, tracing small patterns up across the skin on his back, making note of each bump or birthmark you find there. but you can see he's still struggling to clear his mind, to bring himself into the moment.

shuffling, you roll him over, straddling him with his cock still buried inside of you. his eyes widen, looking up at you with those gorgeous, lost puppy dog eyes that have you weak every time, as his hands grip your hips.

"it's okay, i've got you. . ." you whisper, beginning to bounce on him, back arching from the change in angle.

he swallows hard, "fuck, baby. . ." he hums as he bites his lip, meeting your every thrust as he pushes up into you.

it's not long before you're unable to keep upright, hands coming down to rest on either side of his head as he fucks fervently up into you, skin slapping against skin, pace increasing.

"david. . ." his name drips from your lip like honey, like you want him even though you already have him, like you're calling him back from the edge, a begging tone. your eyes lock with his below you, his cock making easy work of your silky walls. you're not sure you've ever been this wet.

he moans your name in return, nodding as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, gently running a thumb across your skin. you are so beautiful, so fucking beautiful, bouncing on his cock all pretty for him. he'll remember this on lonely nights, on nights where he's a million miles away, his hand wrapped around his dick, spreading thick ropes of white hot cum over his bedsheets as he whispers your name under his breath.

"i love you, god, david i-" you whine, kissing his lips lazily, unable to kiss him with any real purpose due to the way your orgasm is building in your lower belly.

your whispered confession almost makes him cum on the spot, feeling his dick twitch inside. "love you too, love you so fuckin' much. . ."

and finally, his mind is clear, he can only focus on how good you feel wrapped so tightly around him, the way you're working him so well with every thrust, the way your body feels below his grasp.

he loves every inch of you. inside and out.

"can i cum inside?" he gasps abruptly, feeling his grip on your waist tighten, the hand on your cheek sliding down over your neck and along your chest. he's not sure he can pull out, and something about leaving you pumped full of him before he leaves makes him dizzy with need.

"cum for me," you plea, "cum inside me please, need it - need you. . . i. . . i can't-"

roughly, he yanks you down into a deep and passionate kiss, one that turns sloppy as he feels himself begin to pump his cum deep inside of you. you gasp, moaning deeply into his mouth as you feel him fill you up all the way. you're trying to moan his name, whispering small 'i love yous' but he's still kissing you, his tongue exploring your mouth.

and it's enough to send you spiralling over the edge, clenching down around him over and over as you cum around his girthy length.

his breath hitches, eyes rolling back as you milk him with each spasm, bucking up into you in a faltering rhythm that has you seeing stars.

slowly, the world begins to return as you both ride it out, still bouncing a little on his cock before stilling and laying against his chest. he wraps his arms around you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head as you both pant.

a gentle silence fills the room, save for your combined ragged panting, and you cherish it. you cherish the feeling of his skin against yours, his protective embrace, his scent, the sound of his breathing. . . you could go on listing the things you're committing to memory, but it would take all night.

this continues for some time, the both of you falling into a peaceful moment, one you'll remember forever.

you're scared to speak, scared to break the silence. talking makes it real, it makes everything real, and each tick of the clock brings you closer to his departure.

"just. . . promise you'll come back to me." you finally say, voice breaking against his chest as your lip quivers against your attempts to stop it.

the words hit him hard, each one ricocheting in his mind. his grip on you instinctively tightens, he'll do everything in his power to make sure he comes home to you.

"i promise," david vows, "i'll come home to you."

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permanentmess · 10 days

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Can you do a quicksilver x reader where the reader has a twin and quick silver thinks the reader is cheating on him but it’s just the twin? (Gender neutral or male reader pls!!!)

a/n: i wanted to do this idea justice, so i tried my best to make the situation line up so that it would work. i hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your request! i also wanted to use this as writing practice for angsty feelings because i need to get better about showing and not telling

title: seeing double (peter maximoff x twin!gn!reader)

word count: 1015

warnings: obviously beliefs about cheating, angst but a happy ending, hurt/comfort, some pet names (babe/baby), use of the word shit (once), not really proofread, gender neutral reader technically but its pretty vague and pronouns are only used for the twin (unnamed + they/them/their) and peter (he/him)

GIF NOT MINE

~~~

He hasn’t realized he’s shaking until his chest starts to hurt. His head feels fuzzy and he wants to puke. You wouldn’t do that to him, would you? But he can’t fathom what could possibly be happening right now. You, with your lips on another man, your arms wrapped around him. His world feels like it's crashing down around him, with no logical thought in sight.

Peter can’t help it, he has to clear his head. He can’t think about what this entails, what will happen once he talks to you about this. He runs and runs until he’s found the arcade, burying his sorrows into Galaga.

~~~

Peter was acting…strange to say the least. Well, you’re sure he would be if he was around. He wasn’t the most “normal” person, but that’s what you loved about him. And you knew, after 2 years of being with him, that he was being too weird just by being gone.

He wasn’t in any usual place he’d be at, or any of his favorite hiding places (that you knew about). You asked your sibling, but they hadn’t seen him either. Not since earlier that day in the hall after he was done teaching. They were with their boyfriend, so only caught a glimpse of the silver-haired boy speeding away.

It wasn’t like him to just up and disappear, even if he was fast enough to do so. In fact, that man couldn’t go more than an hour without bothering you (lovingly) in some way.

You were about to call out all the stops and have Charles use Cerebro when Peter walks through your bedroom door, looking somber. His hair is unkempt and he’s fidgeting more than usual.

“Oh my god, Peter, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick, what’s going on?” You exclaim as you stand up to meet him. It feels like the words are spilling out of your mouth.

He closes the door gently. “We should talk.” Your heart drops, but you gesture for him to sit on the edge of your bed, joining him on his right once he sits. You feel a pit in your throat but you try to swallow it down.

He’s silent and refusing to look at you, and taking shaky breaths in and out. “Hey, what’s going on?” you ask softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but you decide against it. It’s at this moment you wish you had Jean’s powers instead, so you could understand what was going on.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Your entire body goes cold, muscles tightening. Your mouth is open, but you make no move to hide your shock. “What?”

“I saw you earlier in the hallway, with some other guy.” Even in a time where you’d think he’d be seething, his voice remains even. It was scary; he was never serious for very long.

“Babe, I’ve been teaching all morning, and then I went straight from a classroom to back-to-back training sessions. I’ve barely had time to eat.”

“Then who could I have seen?” His voice is uneven and shaking now, like he’s on the verge of tears. “I want to believe there's a good explanation.”

You pause, taking a deep breath to try and bring some reason to your mind. When you finally realize what was happening, you let out a laugh. He finally looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, for a speedster-” you laugh a little more, cutting yourself off, “you sure were slow about this one. Peter, what kind of sibling do I have?”

“A twi-ohhhh” he closes his eyes, dropping his head into one of his hands. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry baby, I wasn’t even thinking. I was so stressed because my class was acting up and I wasn’t thinking straight.” He’s ranting, now refusing to look at you out of embarrassment.

“Maximoff, look at me,” you tell him gently, smiling at the confusion. Honestly, there are long stretches of time where you forget about your own sibling, about the lack of similarities, because you never see them. It’s a big and busy school, what can you say?

He peeks out his eyes from behind his hand, but won’t remove it. You set a hand on his thigh, rubbing gentle circles with your thumb. “Hey, I’m not mad. I’m glad you cleared your head and talked to me about it.”

When your relationship with Peter first started, he would suppress anything he was upset about, whether it was towards you or not. He’d ignore the issue and jump head-first into any distraction he could find. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to talk about anything bad that happened.

“You’re not mad?” He asks quietly while removing his hand from his face, grabbing yours with it. His eyes are searching your face intensely, tears filling the rims. Your heart feels like it's beating so loud. It’s a rare occurrence that he’ll cry.

“No, not at all. I have a twin, shit like this will happen.”

He looks at you for a moment before he leans in for a gentle kiss and then pulls back. “I didn’t think you’d do that to me by the way. That’s why I was so confused, it didn’t make sense.”

“I know, baby.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain. I’d be upset too if I was in that situation.” He rests his head on top of yours and then pulls you both down so that you’re laying on your bed. He’s exhausted suddenly, all of the panic and confusion and hurt crashing and dissipating.

He shifts so that he’s holding you against his chest and you wrap your arms around him tightly. It’s a long time just laying in silence, and he thinks that you’ve fallen asleep, but when he pulls back slightly he sees you looking up at him.

“Soooo,” you drag out. “I’ve got the rest of the day off, and you do too. What do you wanna do?”

“Star Wars marathon?” He grins.

You return the gesture. “Absolutely.”

#quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x reader #xmen x reader #xmen #mcu #marvel fic #peter maximoff x reader fluff #quicksilver x reader fluff #hurt/comfort

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 3 months

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Some Kind of Disaster - Preview

Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader

Concept: You saw Gally take a spear through the chest, and you are more than shocked to find him alive and well, in front of your eyes.

Preview Word Count: 970

If you like this preview, follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there as the full fic will be posted there sometime within the next few months when I have the time and energy to edit it. I may or may not make a TMR taglist, I'm not sure??

A/N: This is based entirely on the movie version of Gally, as I haven't read the books and don't plan on doing so. The title comes from an All Time Low song of the same name - which I would highly recommend listening to in order to get the vibes for this fic. Also apparently this is the same concept as a dozen other Gally fics, but I don't really care right now - because I got inspired to do it and it's entirely self indulgent, and this is my take on the concept lmao. I am currently on hiatus, but I've been working on fics as a form of stress relief during this time - but I haven't been editing fics. This fic will be posted after its edited sometime within the next month or two. (And there is already a sequel in the works, shhh.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: the full fic will be smut, but this is more of a tease of that; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; spoilers for the films if you haven't seen them; arguing that turns into kissing; Gally has a self-deprecating/insecure inner monologue; mentions of Newt x Reader (it's one-sided in this fic, but may be something more later on ;)); Gally being possessive, Gally being rough (but the reader likes it); mention of Gally masturbating to thoughts of the reader; implications of Gally being taller than the reader (which I think is likely for most people cause Will Poulter is pretty fuckin tall); technically virginity loss (but it's not a big focus of the fic) - it's more about two people naturally enjoying their first time together (and I wrote this the same way I would write a first time in a relationship with two slightly more experienced characters) - and also nothing majorly sexual comes up in this part; this section: heated kissing with intentions towards sex, and that's pretty much it.

...

“Look, I’m sorry I’m not like them, okay?”

He spat out these words bitterly when you didn’t speak, and this left you confused. “I’m sorry I’m not some dumb brave hero guy-”

You reached out and roughly shoved the middle of his chest again. Unknowingly, this aggravated the healed scar where the spear had gone through him, sending a dull ache through him at having the tender pink skin so roughly prodded without his chest armor on this time.

“You’re so stupid!” You barked back, utterly insulted by his words.

He thought this was par for the course, that you would begin hurling more insults before storming out. He thought that you would tell him his supposed ‘death’ had been the best thing that had ever happened to you, and the longing looks Newt had given you were truly something more.

“God, you’re so-!”

You choked on your own words and tears welled up in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath before you continued.

“You are that dumb brave hero guy!” You yelled back, speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Gally gaped at you, and you continued.

“What do you think all that was?” You gestured vaguely behind yourself, obviously speaking about the events earlier in the day - when he had rushed into heavy bomb fire to drag you and the others to safety. “That was the dumbest hero guy thing I have ever seen.” You said, putting a stain of emphasis on the word ‘dumb’, pinching his own phrasing for it right in the ass.

“That was nothing, I just did that because you were in danger, and-”

“And that’s exactly what Thomas would have done.” You replied, quickly cutting him off. “You’re every bit as good as him. You are.”

There was a tense moment where you stared him down, deep contemplation knit across his features while you waited for him to agree with you.

“I wasn’t when you left the Maze.” He added on, quiet guilt floating through his voice. “I wasn’t brave then. I was a coward. I couldn’t be what you needed-”

“You have always been what I need, Gally. When will you get that through your thick shank skull?”

You were done rehashing the past.

You were done contemplating the details of what could have been. It hit you truly then - all that mattered to you now was the fact that Gally, your Gally was in front of you, somehow alive and well. And though it was something you never could have predicted, you wouldn’t let such a beautiful thing slip through your fingers.

You reached out and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt, pulling him forward roughly. At the end of that jerking motion, he was met with your lips, and he sunk into the kiss without a second thought, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh that shouldn’t have suited him so well. Adding to that softness as he reached up to gently cup your cheeks while you gnawed at him with a feral passion.

This is exactly what he had been waiting for. This was the reunion he had wanted all along.

In a moment, the touch, your desperate grip on the front of his shirt, the way you ran your teeth along his bottom lip, edging toward something more - it triggered something within him. A possessive streak over you that had long been dormant; something once fueled by rage and jealousy and fear over the bad things that might happen to you if he wasn’t constantly looking over your shoulder. Now, it came from something much deeper.

That immature love he had felt for you that had only grown and matured during your time apart, adding to a hungry passion for you now that he had you back in his arms - now that he could feel the heat of your skin, smell you, hear the whimpering patter of your breath and know that you were so damn real. (Not just another falsehood of his imagination with the details poorly filled in that he tried to soothe himself with, while he had a hand on his cock.)

He was the one who charged at you this time, shoving you backwards and walking tightly with you, crowding you back until you hit a wall. You hadn’t truly taken in your surroundings, and if you had half a mind to, you would have noticed that this was some kind of dingy store room - used for scavenged spare parts for the vehicles and old guns that needed to be repaired in order to be put into use.

But your brain didn’t take any of that in when your back made contact with the wall, Gally still kissing you fiercely, making you downright dizzy. You didn’t have time to think when one of his hands took a possessive hold on your thigh, hiking your leg up around his hip while his presence loomed over you, like the perfect protective wall you always felt that he was. He continued the heated liplock for a moment before he pulled away for air, and then, a particular query couldn’t be contained within you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked, half-teasing, still holding your death grip on his shirt.

There was a particular hum between your thighs - something hot and beating and alive, a calling that demanded to be answered. You knew that you would be devastated if Gally stopped too soon or didn’t rise to that call. So you had to know what his intentions were now to prepare yourself for the potential disappointment.

“Showing you how much I missed you.” He answered firmly, entirely certain, leaning in to capture your mouth again - pressing his whole body tightly against yours now.

It sent a thrill through you - knowing that he would answer that call and thensome.

#sundrop writes #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally maze runner #gally x y/n #gally tmr #gally tmr x reader #gally the maze runner #the maze runner #the maze runner fanfiction #gally tmr x you #gally tmr fanfiction #tmr fandom #tmr fanfic

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cat-in-a-mech-suit · 28 days

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Transmasculinity Throughout Time: Dr James Barry

Part 2! Here we go. James Barry was the first European doctor to successfully perform a C section where both the mother and child survived, which is cool to me because I was born via C section. He was born in 1789, but lied that he was younger on documents in order to pass - people described him as young looking and soft featured with a boyish voice, but never questioned in his gender. Despite adamantly stating he was a man for his whole adult life and only being revealed as transgender after death, he is still referred to as a “a woman ahead of her time” in the Guardian in 2016 and argued to have only presented as a man to enter the male-dominated medical field. In his wikipedia page, he is only referred to by his last name, not he/him pronouns. This is another example of the transmasculine erasure done by cis feminist historians that I mentioned in my last post in this series. Instead of doing this, cis feminists, here is what you can do: accept and include transmasculine experiences as a part of feminist narratives, not in contradiction to them, and if you can’t do that, at least actually do some research on the women who were practicing medicine at the time, and acknowledge their accomplishments instead of stealing and erasing transmasculine history! To all students of history, and especially anyone who cares about queer/trans history: stop erasing trans men (and all trans and nonbinary people) and explaining us away. Come face to face with our existence. Can you do that?

Alright.

Barry was a British imperial surgeon. When he was 19, he expressed longing to be a soldier, and he later joined the British army. Eeh, I know. His official title quickly ascended to Colonel Medical Inspector. If it wasn’t for his privilege, his gender transgression would likely have not been so easily forgiven and explained away through infantilization and feminist narratives during and after his life. However, he still faced great challenges.

In his profession, he was unlike others because he spent time around and advocated for the most marginalized in society - prisoners, mentally ill, lepers, poor people, and enslaved people. He did this even though it made him vulnerable and eccentric to those around him. His bluntness and need to make change made him extremely challenged and unpopular among his fellow officers, and he survived on his professionalism and bravado alone, enduring an accusation of “conduct unbecoming of the character of an Officer and a Gentleman” for a clash with another surgeon, of which he was acquitted thereafter. He also got into a pistol duel and won against Captain Josias Cloete of the 21st Light Dragoons. Generally, he was described as both rude and unafraid to speak his mind, as well as sometimes overly polite, with a good bedside manner. People were confused by him because he didn’t fit into society, and they constantly speculated on his life and tried to diminish him and the advocacy that he did.

He was first appointed to his position and was able to keep it despite challenges to his authority because of his “close friendship” with the Governor, Lord Charles Somerset (we all know what close friendship means when historians say it). In 1824, he was slandered, put on trial, and investigated when someone said that they “detected Lord Charles buggering Dr Barry.” James Barry is an important historical example of transhomophobia. Unlike what TEHMs and their ilk believe, queer trans men in fact have been experiencing homophobia all this time. James Barry experienced the same homophobia as a cis gay man would at the time, with the additional pressure of being a trans man who had to pass as a cis man to live as himself: transhomophobia. As a queer trans man, thinking about what he must have gone through makes my stomach hurt.

In 1857, he was appointed to be the Inspector of Hospitals in Canada, and he made significant improvements to sanitation and care for prisoners and lepers during his short time in that position. He was forcibly resigned against his will after only two years, because of his supposed poor health.

Before he died of dysentery in 1865, he asked for his person to not be examined at all. His wishes were disobeyed. He was outed as trans and subsequently, his life was either erased or stolen from him and written as that of a woman. To avoid a scandal, all army records of him were locked for 100 years, until in 1958, a biography of him was written by a cis woman historian, who wrote about him as a woman pretending to be a man and erased his transness. Barry’s own doctor said after his death that “it was none of my business whether Dr. Barry was a male or a female” and suggested that he might have been intersex.

Interestingly, he was also known for an incident in which he scolded Florence Nightingale for poor sanitary practices, which she complained about after he died, saying he was “the most hardened creature I had ever met.”

#transmasculinity throughout time #transandrophobia #antitransmasculinity #transmisandry #transmasculine experiences #trans men #transmasc #examples of transandrophobia #transhomophobia #trans history #transphobia #examples of transhomophobia #homophobia #james barry

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ace-of-gay · 2 years

Text

Theyre all so perfect

Steve rogers x little reader

1,263 words

Warnings: age regression, paci, crayons, self doubt but fluff comfort aswell.

Little names like lovebug, little one, baby etc. The title daddy for steve as the caregiver.

Dont like it dont read it.

No pronouns weight or skin color mentioned reader is able bodied enough to walk even just a little bit (i will work on making fics for readers who need mobility aids and such aswell, i understand yall cause i need em aswell)

Edited to the best of my ability

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

It had been a stressful week, you had fought your brain to stay up as late as possible waiting for Stevie to come home last night.

After making dinner cleaning yourself up and waiting so very patiently, when he finally came in the front door kicking his shoes off and tossing his keys onto the table he found you half awake on the couch.

You greeted him with a big drowsy smile, "hello my love" he calls crossing the room when your stomach grumbled, "well i guess that answers the question i was going to ask, lets go eat dinner and cuddle up for bed"

And so you did, saving the dishes for tomorrow you had fallen asleep quickly.

The night had gone quickly filled with cozy warm dreams wrapped up in Steve’s arms held close to his chest, eventually you were woken up by the small cast of sunlight making itself known through the stormy clouds and closed curtains, wrapping yourself up in one of the throw blankets you wander through the hall to find Stevie, your little headspace taking its place.

Walking into the kitchen to find him making breakfast, "good morning cuddle bug, were having French toast this morning" he mentions as you hug him, he turns to you picking you up and placing you sitting on the cold marble counter making you squeal as he goes back to cooking, "daddyyy its coold" you giggle out realy letting yourself slip into your headspace, "I’m sorry love bug i didn't realize" he chuckles as he puts the breakfast treat on two plates adding your favorite type of syrup on top and fruit on the side.

He decided that today could be a calm day, going easy on the routine he lets you sit at the coffee table and eat your French toast and fresh fruit while watching cartoons.

Once done he takes both of your plates and goes to finally do the dishes. You run off to go get changed for the day, picking out a soft pair of dungarees and a matching sweater, picking out a paci for the day, grabbing your stuffy, and your crayons you go off to the kitchen, dropping your crayons off at the table.

Unable to find your drawing book you go off to the kitchen "daddy can i have paper?"

You request as he’s finishing up.

"Of course love bug" he returns going and getting some blank printer paper from the office and bringing it to you at the table.

"Fank you daddy" you chirp behind your paci

Getting to work on your ideas.

It was great being in a house with another artist, there was always projects going on and you could always ask for their perspective and get feedback on where something needs extra attention, all the walls practically covered in canvas paintings and graphite pieces that took weeks if not months, but never your little drawings, those always got put in a binder and put in the office, a few on the fridge and some in your little room but nothing more than that.

The drawing you were trying so very hard to get right just wasn’t coming out and you’ve used both sides of each page you had trying to get it right but to no avail.

You were determined to make such a special piece for your daddy, one that would go on the wall.

A couple tears slip your eyes and hit the table buy you quickly wipe your eyes before anymore come falling, you get up going over to where your daddy sits on the couch reading to ask for more paper which he agrees to.

Once again seated at the table drawing in an absolute trance, you’ve gone through three more pages front and back, it just wouldn't come out right, crumpling it and moving on to a new piece, it had to be perfect.

You had no idea your face was scrunched in anger so when Stevie came over to see you and ask what was wrong you huffed, not in anger but frustration, covering your paper.

" 's not done yet, im tryin daddy" you mutter out glancing at him.

He’s never seen you so upset over a drawing but you wouldn't let him see until its done, "alrighty love, i wont look yet but i promise all your drawings are amazing so i know you’re doin a very good job"

Giving you a kiss on the forehead he goes off to read or draw in the next room to give you space.

This was the best one yet, it finally looked good enough, you even put in an attempt at shading and highlights but crayons aren’t the best at layering but you finally finished it, signing it and putting away your crayons, you go to show Stevie your drawing.

You walk into the room a little hesitant but very hopeful, he sees you and pipes up, "hey bug did you finish your drawing?" Nodding you give it to him and all he does is stare at it, face unchanging, your eyes begin to well "n-never min' i don like it anymore, i-im sorry" you go to take it back when he pulls it back, "baby this is the best drawing ive ever seen"

He takes your hand pulling you to his side.

"But you not gonna put it on- on the wall like the other drawins, yous always put em in a binder an hide em" you sniffle.

He frowns, setting the drawing down and pulling you into his lap, "lovebug im not hiding them, i love those ones so much im keeping them safe, in a place where i can look at them while working and remind myself that you made them for me while little, those ones like all your big headspace drawing are so very special"

Giving you a hug to help embed his words deeper into your mind, he helps you up, grabbing the drawing he leads you to the office where he keeps the binder.

He opens the binder flipping through all of your drawings he had put in clear paper-liners with sticky notes onto the clear plastic of each one describing the days they were all made.

He flips to an empty liner and puts the new one away, grabbing his wallet off the desk and handing it to you, "open it up and look in the cash pocket" you look at him confused but do what he said, pulling out a piece of paper folded into sixths, it had been folded and unfolded so many times that the paper was wearing thin on the creases, opening it up its one of your drawings.

Still confused you look at him tilting your head to the side.

"Its the first drawing you gave to me with you regressed, i keep it in my wallet because it makes me so proud of you, so happy, it makes me feel so special and trusted"

You lurch forward hugging him, he reciprocates your hug and emphasizes it with scattered kisses on your cheeks nose and forehead.

"Ill let you in on a secret of mine, all the drawings on our walls are photo copies, it would hurt me too much to frame the original and something happen to it, i have a separate binder for all your big you drawings in a safe at work" now that is special, its magical its so very comforting, he thinks you, both big and little are an amazing artist beyond what you thought of yourself, because you are.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Its the last day of October, i find the day of Halloween itself traumatizing from something that happend several several years ago do it affects my bpd quite strangely, hence no proper Halloween fic today although i thought this was cute to finally post as its been sitting in my drafts for about two weeks.

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valcubust-writes · 1 year

Text

Read the Demo here! / art account is @valcubust / Da Spotify

...

2027, A voice transcript found on a recording device:

"...can be killed with fire, testing done in..." A french accent. "September of 2025. If I am counting correct."

. . .

"Now, with more testing I can hopefully learn more about them. Learn advantages. Sending someone out to rile them up. Will check in later."

...End transcript.

You're alive.

One survivor amongst thousands of dead. The actual death toll (if there was ever a record of it) is unavailable now. The world ended in 2026.

Now, four-hundred and twenty-three days later, you're here. In the outskirts of Scarswater, Ohio; you live in what used to be a small farming community. Once full of life and a bustling economy, but even before The End, the area had been steadily gentrified. Dead fields, closed businesses, and now, a beautiful wasteland of parking lots and unused plazas.

Whatever caused it is unknown. Of course, you could ask everyone you know and they would all have their own ideas about what happened.

All that you know for certain is that in January of 2026, everything stopped working. Cellphones, computers, televisions... all electronics went on the fritz before shutting down entirely. After that, people started disappearing. Animals, too. And then went the crops, mass death of acres and acres of valuable foods and materials. All gone within six months. Mass hysteria ensued, people got scared, started hoarding goods. Everyone and their mother had a gun pointed right at the road, just in case anyone got any funny ideas.

And all of that was before the bizarre sightings.

The... things. Gooey, tar-like. They absorb, and absorb, and absorb.

You wondered, for a bit, how they could eat so much. But that thought has long passed. They have no limits, no voices, no care in the world except consume. How long until they finally consume you, too?

FEATURES

Play as a nonbinary, male, or female character; straight, bisexual, or gay.

Custom Pronouns (I'm considering adding duo pronouns as well. like, she/they etc.).

Choice for a ‘common’ name or something bizarre. In which characters will definitely recognize that you have named yourself something batshit.

Asexual routes (this is very important to me)!

A mildly customizable backstory

Several love interests

LOVE INTERESTS

Miles/Mindy (He/they, She/they): A surprisingly bashful stranger with a farmer's tan, M has the means to keep to themself alive and safe, so why are they bothering to make sure you make it, too? Circumstances have thrown the two of you together, whether or not they stick around is up to you.

Audria (They/them): Goofy and a little out of touch, Audria is a certified genius, not that it matters anymore. The key to your protection — and your group's — is them. They often head out of the camp to scavenge, and know how to keep a car running. Audria is one of the few people still around who knows anything about electronics. They often seem preoccupied with something important, but Audria always makes time for you.

Calvin/Carissa (He/him, She/her): The unofficial leader of your group — not that they'd want to claim the title — C is in charge of food collection, distribution, and growing. They have a chill attitude about life, and a whole mess of conspiracies. Still, you wonder what's hidden behind all of the easy smiles.

Lola (She/her): Lola is an unfriendly, hot mess. You've never met someone so flighty in your life. She is distrustful and stubborn, and you suspect even the name she told you might be fake. It might be hard to get to know her.

Sandy (She/her, He/him, They/them (genderfluid)): Sandy is a transfer from the West Coast. during a yearly visit to family, they got caught up in an unfamiliar setting. Sandy floats about life, taking very little seriously. They remain fickle in just about every category in their life; they have an easygoing attitude and a tendency to make everything into a joke.

OTHER CHARACTERS

Bea, Preston, Courtney

Bea (She/her): Bea is soft and caring. Not just to you, but the other people in your group as well. Being the only person around with any knowledge about healthcare, she is charge of medical.

Preston (He/him): Preston is a proper hill-billy, not the most likeable of people, but you can't deny he's a good shot. Preston keeps watch and hunts for the group.

Courtney (She/her): The younger sister to C, Courtney juggles many tasks, usually helping out with what others are doing. She always wants to go with you when you leave.

The rest will join later!:)

WARNINGS

Definitely some bad language, and slang that might not immediately understood by everyone. I’ll most likely include a glossary if it is too ‘Ohio’ of me.

A warning that there is definitely going to be reference to death and hardship (often), as well as active death among background/side characters.

I’m still waffling over a couple of the names I’ve chosen, but for now I think I’m satisfied with them. We shall see!

General warning for horror elements, there’s for sure going to be body horror in the future, and as well as I can write grotesque imagery.

Mentions/explicit depictions of drugs/alcohol/addictions/guns

content/trigger warnings for gender and body dysphoria, plus mild transphobia ( NOT EXPLICIT, it is implied, referencing a point in time in the past )

This setting is (obviously) very specific to me, as I’ve always wanted to tell a story about the type of scenery I see often. I’ve gotten to see a fun mix of rural yet urban in the area I live in that I haven’t seen someone really tackle before.

I’m also super busy, so writing will come pretty slow for me.

Important note: This story may be enjoyed by people who have the same tastes as me, but it’s mostly being written for myself! I love my characters dearly and it absolutely tickles me to see them finally coming to life in text. But it’s very sculpted to my preferences. This story is for me, and it is about my experiences and those I know closely. Give or take a few monsters.

#split if #valcubust #choice of games #interactive books #interactive fiction #split intro sheet #no one has ever been this nervous #as i am right now

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bi-bard · 1 year

Text

And Sit Unseen, With Only the Inner Upheld - Jack Kline Imagine [Supernatural]

Title: And Sit Unseen, With Only the Inner Upheld

Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader

Based On: De Selby (Pt. 1)

Word Count: 1,189 words

Warning(s): mention of loneliness

Summary: Two Nephilims find themselves taking shelter with the Winchesters. However, no safety and security could match up to true connection and understanding.

Author's Note: Here we go! It's started!!

Also, if you have a problem with me using they/them pronouns for Jack, then don't fucking read this. Just leave it alone. I am not going to change it, so sitting and complaining to me about it is just gonna waste both of our time.

UNREAL UNEARTH - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I don't remember when I had started to sit in the armchair in the corner of the bunker library when I couldn't sleep.

I just knew that it had become a habit that I had no interest in changing.

It was nice in there. The light of the table wasn't too bright. The chair was nice. Well, nicer than any of the other seats in the bunker. It was the only one that seemed to have a halfway decent cushion on it besides the couch in the Dean Cave.

That small chair, lit by that small lamp, in the quiet of the night, had become my safe space.

It was the only peace that I had.

There was no pressure about my existence. No push for me to live up to this concept that had never been allowed to exist long enough to be proven true or false.

I was a Nephilim. I had done a very good job hiding it. My father- some unknown angel that was hunted almost as soon as I had been born- had done all he could do to protect me. He taught my mother everything that she could do after he was gone.

I had been hiding my whole life. From angels, demons, and humans alike. I was a target. I knew that all too well. I was a timebomb in their minds.

I was the same thing to the Winchesters.

They could hide it all they wanted. Deny it and promise that they trusted me. I could see through it. I saw their worried looks whenever I got upset. I saw their fear whenever my powers needed to come out. I saw that this bunker wasn't just the "permanent place to stay" that they tried to promise it was. It was a cage.

To the Winchesters, I was the scariest thing that they had ever been met with.

And then, Jack was born.

A Nephilim. Just like me.

Expect, they weren't.

Jack was a special case. Not simply a Nephilim, but the child of an archangel. Not simply the child of any archangel, but the child of Lucifer.

If I was a timebomb, Jack was a dying star waiting to expand.

The Winchesters were far more scared of Jack than they were of me. Dean was ready to kill the kid as soon as he could. Sam tried to be kind, but I could see his nervousness. Not that I didn't understand it; he was bad at hiding it.

So, yes, I found peace in the night. Peace in the silence and loneliness. If I couldn't have someone near me that would understand my thoughts and anger, then I would find that comfort within myself.

I had spent what felt like hundreds of nights in that library.

I had been caught there once.

It was like any other night that I had spent there. I was quiet, staring up at the ceiling. Nothing in particular on my mind. I was merely allowing myself to float. Exist in the darkness.

"(Y/n)."

I jumped when I heard my name. I could barely see Jack standing in just on the other side of the table. They put their hands up when they saw me flinch.

"Sorry," they muttered quickly.

I ran a hand over my face. "What are doing up, Jack?"

"I... I don't know," they confessed. "I just... I felt like I needed to come out here."

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay... did you want to sit?"

"Can I?" the grin that crossed their lips made my heart swell a bit.

"Grab a chair," I nodded toward the table behind them. I had no intention of giving up my spot.

Jack sat in the space next to me. They didn't talk for a while. Instead, we both just sat in silence together, waiting as the seconds ticked by.

"I know what it's like," I said quietly. Jack looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. "We don't sleep as much as the Winchesters. I know the feeling of not wanting to hide in those covers the entire night when you aren't tired."

"Is that why you sit out here," they asked.

"Partly."

"What's the other part?"

I paused, scanning my eyes along their facial expression for a moment. I don't know what I was looking for. It wasn't going to be judgment. Maybe I was looking for that ever-so-familiar look of fear.

Jack had been the only person to never offer me that worried look that I had come to know so well from the Winchesters.

"I like the nighttime," I explained. Another set of furrowed eyebrows. "I didn't know what it was like to have time to relax before I came to the bunker. I was always running or at least, ready to run. And now that I can relax when it's late, I like to properly enjoy it. It's the only time that I'm not reminded of how dangerous I am."

There was a small pause before Jack spoke up, "I don't think that you're dangerous."

I grinned. "Thanks. If only Sam and Dean felt the same way."

Jack was silent after that, just looking at me.

"They mean well, but they don't keep us here just to keep us safe," I said. I felt dread bubbling up in my stomach. "To them, keeping us here is also the easiest way that they can... deal with us if one of us turns out... evil. They may never fully trust either one of us and there's nothing we can do about that."

"Oh," they muttered.

"Sorry," I looked down at my hands.

"It's okay."

Another silence consumed us. I tilted my head back, looking back at the ceiling above us. The space that once felt empty and peaceful now felt like it was suffocating from the reality of our situation. And it was my fault. I had disrupted my own sanctuary.

"I trust you," Jack added, cutting through the weight of the silence as if it were nothing.

I looked at them.

They grinned at me.

"Thank you," I replied. "I trust you too, Jack."

"Can I stay out here with you a little while longer?"

"As long as you'd like."

The silence that followed was calming. More calming than any of the nights that had occurred before that.

I had gotten so used to being alone that I never thought about how nice it would be to have someone. Not just have someone but have someone who could truly understand how I felt and how I thought.

It was nice.

I reached over and grabbed Jack's hand.

For the first time, I didn't feel a need to push away the thoughts of who or what I was. I was able to exist in this peace without separating my powers from the rest of me.

I found myself begging to feel like this forever. To finally have a place with no fear or anger or confusion. To finally feel as if what I was wasn't some mistake that was made.

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, the lamp seemed to be too bright of an interruption.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#fanfiction #imagine #x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x reader

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memekais · 9 months

Text

epic the musical sentence starters. the cyclops saga. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

polyphemus

i can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep.

i've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat.

it's almost too perfect, too good to be true.

hey there... we're just travelers. we come in peace.

what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? don't you know that pain you sow is pain you rеap?

time to drink your blood over where you stand.

your life now is in my hand. before i'm done you will learn that it's not so fun to take.

you came to my home to steal but now you'll become my meal.

a trade, you see? take from you like you took from me.

there's been a misunderstanding, we never came here to steal!

now that i see we've done some damage, maybe you and I could make a deal?

i'll give you our finest treasure so long as we leave alive.

one sip and you'll understand the power that's in your hands.

we shall be on our way, no bloodshed in here today.

a trade, you see? a gift from you and a gift from me.

ah, i'd like to thank you. stranger, what's your name?

i'm so glad we see eye to eye.

you shall be the final man to die.

survive

if we're defeated, they're good as dead.

straight ahead, that is who we're fighting.

no backup, no chance for support so draw out your swords. our foe must be thwarted right here and now.

show me how great is your will to survive.

it's just one life to take and when we kill him then our journey's over.

no dying on me now!

we must live through this day so fight, fight, fight!

surround him! attack from behind, keep distance in mind and stay in his blindspot and strike his heels!

don't let him get close, he's strong but he's slow! he can't land a blow if we're out of reach!

stand up and fight for your lives!

you've hurt me enough.

six hundred lives I'll take... six hundred lives I'll break.

when I kill you then my pain is over.

you're dying here and now! escape is not allowed!

you won't live through this day now die... die...!

remember them

we must move quickly; we don't have much time...

mark my words now, this is not the end.

but captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends?

remember them when the fire begins to fade, for the fallen and afraid.

we are not to let them die in vain.

we're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone.

let's kill him!

his body is blocking the path. if we kill him, we'll be stuck inside.

if nobody hurts you, be silent.

have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?

he's still a threat until he's dead. finish it.

what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?

the blood we shed; it never dries.

is this what it means to be a warrior of the mind?

when we met, i led with peace while you fed your inner beast.

remember them the next time that you dare choose not to spare.

remember them. remember us. remember me.

i am neither man nor mythical! i am your darkest moment!

i am the infamous [name]!

my goodbye

you are reckless, sentimental at best.

you've grown soft, your dead friends can attest.

put your emotions aside.

you're a warrior meant to lead the rest.

i don't know where i went wrong but i warned you, and you failed the test so now i'm gone.

this way, you'll know what your place is. this way, you can't cross the line.

this way, you won't disappoint me. this way, you won't waste my time.

consider this as my goodbye.

that's just like you, why should i be surprised? selfish and prideful and vain.

unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.

what's a title that a goddess could lend if i'll never sleep at night?

i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.

this way, you're out of my head now.

this way, you won't plague my life.

when all is done, you're out of sight and out of mind.

close the door and have your damn goodbye.

you're not looking for a mentor i'm not looking for a friend.

i mistook you for a general, what a waste of effort spent!

at least i know what i'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known!

since you claim you're so much wiser, why's your life spent all alone?

one day, you'll hear what I'm saying.

one day, you might understand. one day, but not today, for after all you're just a man.

this day, you lost it all.

#rp meme #rp prompts #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #rp sentence starters #ask meme #prompts #sentence starters #meme

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 2 years

Text

Pygmalion (I)

Pairings: Rook/ (Pygmalion) MC // Idia/MC (Platonic)

Summary: You were frequently told that your career as a renowned sculptor did not match your dull and less than colorful personality. With your cybernetic hands, you carve the lives and deaths of those long gone‒ producing pieces which have been held in both technical and emotional high regard, dubbing you with the title “Pygm.AI.lion” despite your human heart and brain. When you accidentally still the usually flamboyant archer into silence after he comes across you working in your atelier‒ you find that you’ve become a victim to one of his ceaseless stalkings. Though, you’ve been prey long enough to know how hunt the huntsman himself.

Notes: Reader/OC based off of the myth of Pygmalion, but with a twist of sci-fi/cybernetic enhancements courtesy of the Shroud family. Rook is certainly a tricky character to write because part of his characterization being “mysterious and distant”, but as all humans have, there are layers underneath this simplicity that I thought would be interesting to explore through the avenue of the artist and the cyborg. GN pronouns and TW for some grooming, toxic adult presence, human experimentation mentioned (none of which are perpetrated by Twst characters). Also, inspired by "Apathy Wrapped in Kindness" by @twst-hanaya

CW: Human experimentation, verbal abuse in coming chapters

AO3 Link Here.

Part 1 (Here) // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

Masterlist

————————————————-

Cold blood that gradually began to pump through your plastic arteries and into your preserved heart traced your emerging body from the darkness of your recovery pod. Your synthetic arms twitched as the pod brought you into an upright position, and though the consistent palpitation of liquid throughout your cybernetic body prevented blood from rushing to your head, it took a few heavy breaths for your eyes to adjust to this resurrection that occurred every morning. Stepping out of the container, you felt the weight of your body return, swaying your head a bit as you pulled on your new Ignihyde uniform.

The floating tablet read: “Function: stable”, illuminating your room in a ghostly blue in confirmation of your body’s successful resurrection. An icon floated below it, a glowing version of the photo sitting on your desk, the man in the photo piercing his gaze into yours as if to scold you for your late morning as he had done centuries before. “Good morning Doctor Krios.*”, you greeted as always, before heading out for the Headmage’s office to finalize your delayed enrollment.

“Ah! Finally, (name), I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up!”

“Good morning, Headmage Crowley. I apologize for the delay.” You bowed towards him, watching him shuffle through a mess of papers on his desk. “Is this what you are looking for?” Picking up a file with your name stamped on the front, you handed it to Crowley.

He beamed. “Ah! Yes, exactly that. You robots are so useful with your sensors and such.”

“I am not a robot.”

“Because I am so kind‒ I will forgive you for your delay!” The headmage completely ignored your statement. Not that you really cared. He flipped through several pages of the file, before pulling one out and shoving it in front of your face. “Now, here is your schedule. Since you are a sculptor, and because I am so gracious‒ I took the liberty of setting up a tour led by one of our brightest third year art students before the week begins.” Just then, a knock was heard at the office doors.”Ah, right on cue. Come in!”

The heavy walnut doors opened, revealing a tall blonde with a purple uniform, and wide brimmed, purple hat to match. The red feather on it swooshed as he brought it to his chest, adorning a fox-like smile on his slender face.

“Enchante, Maître d’Ivoire. My name is Rook Hunt, vice dorm leader of the Pomefiore dorm and your guide today.” He sat his hat back on his head, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “What an honor it is to finally meet the one and only ‘Pygm.AI.lion’!”

You took his hand into your artificial one, tasting the warmth that came from the red blood flowing underneath his skin. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is (Name) Jupiter. I don’t go by Pygm.AI.lion.” A look of surprise adorned his face when you mentioned the name.

“Likewise, I apologize, I’ve only seen you associated with that name. And,” he lifted a hand to rest his knuckles under his chin in an inquisitive manner. “Jupiter? Of the Jupiter Enterprises?”

You nodded. “Yes. That Jupiter. My cybernetics that were the first in the world to be as automated as they are, were produced by the scientists of Jupiter Enterprises.” You explained, reminded of Dr.Krios’ words. You are the precious child to all in the Jupiter Family. It was as if you could feel him holding your beating heart in his hands once more, stringing various tubes and needles through them.

“Alright, you two. You have much to see, go on now!” The headmage shooed you away, returning to the pile of papers on his desk. Rook held the door open for you, before closing it behind him to lead you on your tour.

“So,” Rook began, pointing his sharp gaze to the bionic components peaking through your Ignihyde uniform. “how ever did a robot‒ excuse me‒ AI make their way into Night Raven College?”

“I am not a robot. Nor am I an AI.” You simply stated. “And a carriage arrived at the lab one day, just like any of the other students here.”

“My apologies. It seems the information on you spread by the media is unfortunately very lacking, I’m a fan of your work. Ah, may I see your schedule?” You handed him your schedule. He hummed in thanks. “What are you then, Maître d’Ivoire?”

“A cyborg.” The hungry glint in his eyes seemed a bit dissatisfied with your curt answer.

“Interesting, I do not see any human components‒ though that synthetic skin is very convincing‒ it reminds me of a student here, Ortho Shroud, you’ll meet him eventually.” He tipped his neck forward to get a better look at your bare skin.

You hummed, gaze stilled forward, a bit bored of his interrogation. Though you were used to pompous aristocrats hogging your time with their ceaseless blabbering of their own mediocre lives, this was equally as dull. You weren’t here really to make friends or experience the school life‒ just to escape the invasive testing and prodding back at the lab now that Dr.Krios was finally gone, which unfortunately ended the little protection you had under him. You ignored Rook’s first statement, reminded of the human heart and brain that were not able to be bionically replaced during your reconstruction. “I already know of him. He’s a member of the Shroud family, after all.” Rook swung his neck back, looking at the paper between his fingers.

“Mon dieu!” His volume made you wince your eyes, cringing at the sudden outburst. “I must be blessed by the great seven‒ we have the same period for art! How lucky am I to lay these eyes directly upon your creations! Ah, I simply cannot wait….” Rook tittered, a Iively energy singing in his footsteps, before he stops in front of heavyset double doors. “This room here is actually the art classroom.” He leads you into a closed classroom, a spacious floor with various mediums stored in all corners of the room. Your eyes shifted towards the unfinished marble structures clustered at the lengthy windows letting in golden sunlight that bounced off the soft skin of the figures. Despite most sculptures being half finished, there were no preliminary wax, clay, or plaster sculptures in sight*. With leisure movements, you circled around the forms, scrutinizing each crevice of soft marble, observing a bit in disappointment. Amateur technique, you thought. But you excuse it with the fact that this was not a specialized college for the arts, and rather one with magic; as well as your eyes being trained through centuries of perfecting your own carving technique, enabled by the prolonged life the cybernetic enhancements allowed you.

“Do we have an atelier here? Or just this classroom?” You asked, resuming an upright position to look at Rook, observing you with an amused look swimming in his eyes. You felt like you were being slowly trapped under the viridian of his gaze, tracking every movement of your synthetic muscles and whir of your polymer joints to trail you back to the inner processing of your brain. His name was fitting, you thought, you felt hunted by the slender slits on his face. However you were used to such hungry color saturating the eyes that met your form‒ so you paid no mind, silently stalking his movements back‒ a game of par force*. His lips curved into a smile that was not at all kind, sorry, or warm‒ but rather, above all, polite. It was with a cool distance stretching far into his eyes that you had become accustomed to within yourself, over the centuries of bearing the weight of time like a feather.

“Unfortunately no, just this classroom. Does this space not satisfy you?”

“I’d rather have more space to work with all of my tools at my disposal. This place is lacking in terms of proper maintenance and available materials. The oils and other mediums of this room will taint the stone, and I don’t see a single block of wax in sight.”

Your guide let out a laugh. “As expected from Maître d’Ivoire, I can certainly lend you the key to one of the abandoned sheds in the gardens on campus…” he decorated an artful smile on his face, positioning his hand below his chin as if to think. You quirked your eyebrow.

“Great. Take me there.”

“Ah but alas, I have one request.” He dangled the keys on a hooked finger. “I am a devotee to archaeology and unearthing ancient beauties which sleep beneath this earth you see. I happen to catch wind of the fact that you bear direct knowledge of ancient techniques, lost to the modern day?*” He eyes scanned your response through the brim of his hat, measuring the change in your features with the knowledge that he knew of your extended life. You didn’t really care much, he didn’t seem like the type to be going around and sharing people’s business.

“If you allow me to stop by periodically to study your technique, I will lend you this key in my hand.” His hand reached out to seal the deal. “What do you say, Maître d’Ivoire?”

You weighed out the options. On one hand, this guy seemed to be a hassle to deal with and you didn’t like people disturbing you during your process…on the other hand, even if you were able to avoid him during class, it wouldn’t matter if your final product would turn out imperfect and even potentially damaged. Which seemed likely with the clumsy handiwork you observed in the sloppy expressions decorating marble. You took his hand into yours, reflecting his own hunger in the glass of your bionic eyes. “Alright, we have a deal.”

He shook your hand with vigor. “Magnifique! Splendid! Surely, you will not regret this.” You wiggled your hand out of his tight grasp, already drained from his antics. Gods, you hoped the students of this school weren’t all like this.

————————————————-

It was good this time period was full of technological innovations that made your life much easier than it had been when you were younger. Ah the marvels of technology, it made transferring all of your materials and works from the lab to your new atelier much easier rather than having to haul heavy materials from the lab, to your dorm, onto campus‒ not that it would be an issue with your cybernetics. Still, you were thankful that with a simple click of a button, everything was sent over with expedited shipping. You arrived early in the morning to unpack everything, picking the heavy materials up with ease with the help of your enhanced strength.

You were eager to get to work‒ finally out of the lab that scrutinized every move of yours. Do this, make that, carve this, don’t do that. You didn’t necessarily think sculpting was a personal expression for you per say, but you were tired of having to make such lifeless art appealing to the easily amused mob of aristocrats and stuffy high end clients that swamped your galleries. The rhythm in which you tapped your hammer onto the pointed chisel echoed through your gloves, into the microscopic sensors on your synthetic skin, reverberating into your metallic skeleton and into your human heart. You quietly relished the feeling so close to warm flesh.

“Such dutiful dedication! Already at work, I see.” Rook beamed, rested his hand on his chin, examining the detailed ivory ornaments sitting next to your drafting desk. Your flow interrupted, your hand hovered over the stone, phasing out of your automated trance. “Oh, apologies for interrupting.” He weaved through the statues littering the room making his way towards you.

Bit late for that goddammit.

“Just…knock next time.” You say monotonously. Anger would only feed them, him. Rook hummed in response.

“What are you working on?”

You motioned towards the wax sculpture next to you, he bent his neck down to examine it closer.

“What is this supposed to be?” His head turned to the side, positioning it to see if it would give him a better perspective.

“Whatever it wants to be.” You stated, getting back into the rhythm. In your mind there was no intention, no meticulously crafted idea that came deep within. An image descended to you like a dream, and you thawed it out, warming the figure of a life and death chilled by the stillness of time. You merely carved this life and death into stone‒ taking the past into your hands and infusing it to this present moment. Historians, archaeologists, and academics often labored over the meanings of your work‒ and you let them, knowing they would never understand the lack of novelty or personal intention within your creations, induced by the experience of eternity washing over you like a light breeze hardening in your still beating human heart.

“Whatever it wants to be?” His eyes held surprise above all, trained on your hands as his own pulled out a purple pen and leather notepad.

“Whatever it wants to be. The years I’ve lived have made me an observer to humanity.” Your gloved hands worked with a lightness almost impossible to the heavy mechanical components packed inside your synthetic skin. “I am possessed by it.”*

A hardened smile grew on his lips, as he steadied his hand on the surface of the notepad. “Beaute‒ such inspiring words! Such love and beauty felt through your art…” He scribbled something down on the paper.

“Love? Art? Beauty? No. This is not art, not knowledge‒ it is possession. Possession of life, of death, of ugliness, of nuance no longer…” found within yourself. You reeled yourself from your daze, pausing mid-way through your sentence. Perhaps you had lied when you said you weren’t an AI. An AI can only replicate the human brain efficiently because it cannot do so with the human heart‒ because when a heart emerges, it becomes something entirely new‒ too fearful, too longing, too passionate it then yearns, it wants more, more, more‒ feel something, reach out, call out, the heart says. It is not an AI then, it becomes a monster. That voice existed in you at some point in time, but now you merely stand in front of it to reflect if onto stone. Your gloved hands trembled when you stopped your hammer. To lull them, you continued your rhythm. This French bastard was really messing with your flow, humming carelessly as he continued to scribble in his notepad.

You two sat in silence after that, you continuing your work with the material as he sat and studied your every move before he announced it was time for lunch. Wanting to continue with your piece, you merely hummed in response, glad that he was no longer scrutinizing you under that falcon-like gaze. This hunt didn’t feel as dehumanizing as it was in the lab, but it definitely kept you on your guard enough that it was disturbing your usual rapid pace with production. But maybe it was because, for the first time in a while, it was not mere production‒ you had to allow yourself to be possessed by humanity, rather than the vapid requests of the people in lab coats or garish jewelry. Hearing Rook close the door, you ascended into a deep trance, your hands dancing across the surface of the marble to realize the vision.

————————————————-

The joints in your arm rasped with exhaustion when you finished the piece. Stretching your stiffened body, you searched the room for your maintenance box, hoping it wasn’t buried in the several boxes that littered the corners that you had forgotten to unpack. Finding it under your drafting table, you opened it, revealing various tools to tweak the cybernetics on your body for better performance. You grabbed a wrench, opening a compartment on your arm before loosening the tension within it with a few twists.

“Bonsoir, still in the studio at this late hour?” You turned to the voice, revealing Rook, the crimson feather on his head bobbing as he waltzed into the atelier. Giving a grunt in response, you continued to work on the weariness of your arm.

“I was just about to lock up since I’m finished.”

“Won’t you indulge me in your latest creation?” That smile, those hungry eyes again.

You let out a silent huff through your nose, getting up to flick on the light that illuminated the sculpture. There lay a hunk of marble that held its fleshy luster under the delicate layers of plaster and wax you stratified on top of the stone‒ emerging from it a disembodied figure resembling the pose of a crouched fetus despite its large, meaty form, cracked and dismembered. The wax, dyed in splotchy bursts of red, glowed pink like human tissue under the warm lamp, and supple like soft skin you could almost squeeze. You were satisfied with your handiwork today, this was exactly the image which descended upon you‒ fleshy, poignant, ghostly, writhing with hot blood. You had once known her, the figure imprinted onto the stone. She always wore a woeful smile on her flowery face until the sickness overtook her entire body. The last night you met with her to hold her hand through the eternal darkness, she cried like a worn infant, rasping in your ear a covet for another life, sweet as a summer’s child. You don’t remember her name, or your tears‒ but you remember the feather light touch of her fingers and salt on your tongue. Her divine thirst seized your hands today‒ and you carved it into the tender wax over soft marble.

You curiously looked over at Rook, who turned his back to you, stilled at the moment you flickered the lights. Stepping closer, you saw that he had an unreadable, if not, slightly perturbed expression on his face‒ the creases made between his deep set eyes feeling unnatural to his demeanor. Drinking it in with slight surprise, you stepped back quietly, gathering your tools in your canvas wrap case to let him sort out..whatever was happening to him.

“This is…different from your usual pieces, no?”

“My usual pieces are patroned by Jupiter Enterprises. I have no patron currently so I can allow my sculptures to do as they like.”

“You speak as if…this is alive.”

A phantom sensation grazed your palm. “It is very much so. I can even make it more alive, but I won’t do that.” Rook looked at you, searching your flat expression for an answer. Ah, you had forgotten Dr.Krios had framed your sculptures as a technological wonder, rather than a result of your magic. Grabbing an ivory sculpture off of your shelf, you pulled off your glove with your teeth. “With my touch, Aphrodite’s Kiss,”* the creature began to flutter in your hands. “I can animate my carvings.” The bird chirped, snuggling its soft ivory wings into your hold hands, before it began to gradually lose the lively jitter of its body, petrifying it before its heart stopped. “But it does not last for long. It will harden again before its short lived life is over.” You carefully set the bird back in its spot, encasing your synthetic hand back in the glove. How desperately you wanted to lock your hands inside that fabric to veil them for eternity, or tear them off your body entirely. But your body shook with a quiet tremor, even with the cold blood and metal‒ create, create, create.

Rook observed your movements silently, then slowly turned his head back to the pink statue, lips pursed in a thin line, breathing slowly rising his chest up and down.

“Not her though, it would be cruel.”

He flashed a polite, distanced smile again. “Thank you for indulging me. Sweet dreams, Maître d’Ivoire.” A gloved hand tipped his hat as he bade his goodbye, leaving you in the chilled room, sharp eyes tracking his movements. A slight fragrance of bitter anger wafted from his passing expression‒ you felt that it wasn’t directed towards you, but it also seemed it wasn’t not directed towards you. You weren’t really sure. Gathering your supplies, you readied yourself for a full schedule tomorrow, hopefully with less weird students than the one that you met today.

————————————————-

Notes:

Much of the cybernetic inspiration comes from media like Ghost in the Shell, Battle Angel Alita, Violet Evergarden, etc.. since I grew up with them during my childhood in my mother country lol. But also some of it comes from my academic research area, mainly addressing feminism and queer theory through the allegory of the cyborg (ie Cyborg Manifesto by Donna Haraway). I hope to continue with these ideas because I think it’s such an interesting concept that holds a lot of relevance to our current world.

Krios is a translation of “Aries” in Greek‒ both a representation of the animal symbolizing the god of war, and the god of death (black ram specifically). Like a ram, both war and death stops for no one, and charges straight through with force. Kind of like a mad scientist breeching on ethical codes lol

Marble sculptors usually make preliminary drafts made of more malleable materials like clay, plaster, or wax to tackle any potential technical issues that might have to deal with. Also results in a better replication of soft things like skin and fabric because of the malleable material. Kind of like a sketch, studies, or etchings that oil painters do before starting their piece.

Par Force: A style of hunting used for centuries, which became the preferred method of hunting during the medieval period during the cultural shift of hunting to an activity for nobles, because it was considered to be the “purest” and most elegant form, requiring lots of technical and intellectual skill in heightening danger within a controlled context. It basically exhausts (some theorize heat exhaustion) the prey into yielding. However some, even during this period, claimed that this was not pure‒ and liked to take their prey with “gentleness” and “nobility” with a bow and arrow or with traps, favoring the process and rituals to the hunt rather than say, exhausting the biggest hunt to capture it. ALSO hunting has a lot of romantic/sexual implications during medieval periods (especially in France, as they decorated many illuminated manuscripts, tapestries, and wooden chests) so I’ll definitely be using this analogy a lot lol

Though ivory sculpting has been traditionally used in ornamental pieces since prehistoric times, it was usually a very rare and expensive material to work with before the colonization (robbery) of Africa in the 19th century. Though marble is favored for sculptures with human forms because its luster is similar to that of human skin‒ ivory was favored in religious and decorative objects (mostly for high political/social classes like the church or the Chinese royal dynasty) because of its softness, creamy color, and smooth grain/texture. Ivory is also the tusks of elephants or walruses, so it’s hard to create grandeur with just size alone, so many ivory sculptures are extremely detailed.

Unlike metal it also can’t be recycled or reused, so not only is it a precious material to start with, but it also becomes even more important over time because its higher survival rate (used a lot in Byzantine art, and we actually still have a lot of well-preserved pieces, such as the throne of Maximianus).

Unfortunately because ivory doesn’t survive so well underground or in certain climates, our knowledge of Ancient Greek ivory carving is very restricted, though most Roman (the later half towards Constantine’s rule) are well preserved because they were kept above ground in church treasuries. So most of our knowledge on Ancient Greek ivory sculpting comes from the plaques and relief carvings of the Roman/Byzantine times. So I think Rook would be very interested, as an aspiring archaeologist, to get the inside scoop about Ancient Greek ivory carving, especially as its trade has been forbidden since the late 20th century.

In the Odyssey when describing the materials for the palace of Menelaos as “the heavenly palace…There was a gleam there, which was like the gleam of he sun of the moon…I want you to notice something, so of Nestor, you who are so dear to my heart. Notice the flash of bronze as its ight pervades the echoing hall and also the flash of gold and of electrum and of silver and ivory. I’m guessing that Zeus, who lives on Olympus, has such a hall inside his palace, and he would have as many indescribable things as are here. A sense of holy awe takes hold of me as I look at these things.”

Ivory is illustrated as a material favored by the gods, specifically to Zeus. SIDENOTE‒ the Iliad/Odyssey are set during the Mycenaean Greece (though written during Archaic/Ancient Greece) and therefore Zeus is not yet the headgod he is known to be in the Hellenistic Pantheon (Mycenaean Greece put more of a emphasis on Chthonic/Underworld gods like Psidon, who fulfilled the head god role). But Homer go off I guess I get what you’re trying to say‒ Ivory is a material favored by the gods, and even associated with the head god of the time period it was written in.

Side note to side note: there are so many inconsistencies like this in Homer’s narratives lol. Like Aphrodite isn’t even found in any Mycenaean texts but she’s like the main person responsible for the Trojan war?? Make it make sense lmao

In Plato's Ion, he discusses with Socrates how artists preform and create. He states that art is form of divine possession and inspiration, a type of divine madness that acts as a vessel to gods' truth. It comes not solely from a place of knowledge but experience and inspiration (capturing the essence). I think this would definitely be an interesting perspective to take with art (not one I personally believe in), especially with a being infused with the eternity of time.

The piece was inspired by both Medardo Rosso’s The Golden Age (L ‘Ea d’oro) (the materials and technique), and Jean Fautrier’s Sarah ad Petit nu Assis (the form and concept). I wanted to mainly focus on abstract pieces for the stuff created outside of the lab since it elicits a feeling, an experience, and a life and death than an image. Tachisme, which is the art movement Jean Fautrier belongs to, also is very intuitive‒ so I wanted to show the essence of memory‒ something which doesn’t take a clear form but can still make us feel depth and emotion. Memory is also something which betrays our heart and mind in the end as well, so that is also something which shows that there is still humanity inside the character, despite their willful distance away from it.

Rook is a bit ticked off when he can’t really intellectualize your art, because I think he sees beauty as truth above anything else, which can only really be pulled from objective reality and observation (explains his vote for RSA‒ he saw that the students had passion in what they did, rather than justifying his vote with his adoration for Vil). So when he can’t really put a finger on what makes his body feel the beauty of the piece, he feels like he’s being denied a part of him‒ which is something that instills a cold anger and green inside him because I think he really values “I” in the holistic sense. He won’t give parts of himself to anyone because of this greed‒ he wants to take things and run‒ hunt, kill, and move on to the next thing. Also why he admires Trey for the respectable distance he keeps from others because Rook himself wants to maintain that distance from almost everyone. He’s so complicated lmao

Aphrodite’s Kiss is a reference to the original myth of Pygmalion‒ in which Pygmalion quietly pleads to Aphrodite to bring his beloved Galatea to life. When he goes home to kiss his ivory statue, he finds that her lips are warm and soft, discovering that the goddess grande his wish. Thought it’d be cute, ya know?

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underteika · 4 months

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CHARACTER SHEET REPOST, DON'T REBLOG!

basics !

FULL NAME. Anda Teika TITLE. Responsible-ish Stoner, Child of Sorrow NICKNAME. n/a GENDER. Nonbinary PRONOUNS. They/Them HEIGHT. 6'3, but slouches, so it's more like 5'9-6'0 AGE. 24 (30 in Isola) ZODIAC. Technically an aries bc their birthday is a bad luck reference (4/4), but doesn't act like it at all SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, broken Japanese

physical characteristics !

HAIR COLOR. Naturally dark brown, but now it's 50/50 white due to stress. Dyes it all violet EYE COLOR. Brown (gold if using their powers) SKIN TONE. Tan BODY TYPE. Top-heavy and broad shouldered, muscular upper body but skips leg day all the time. Not the body-builder kind of muscle, but muscle from years of lifting dead weight (pun intended) VOICE. Soft spoken, like speaking too loud would get them in trouble. Breaks a lot. DOMINANT HAND. Left POSTURE. Needs a desperate visit from the posture posse SCARS. Many. Pre-isola scars are a long one on their scalp that their hair covers and a few other faded ones from the crash. Isola scars are... all over them, unfortunately, and mostly consist of claw marks. TATTOOS. None, but wants one. But too indecisive BIRTHMARKS. None MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Kindness and sadness in equal measure in those big ol' eyes. Wears a prosthetic from the calf down on the right leg that's covered in stickers. Always wearing SOME kind of band shirt

childhood !

PLACE OF BIRTH. Washington, USA HOMETOWN. Washington, USA. Moved to a hidden forest in Japan after the accident to seal away the family curse SIBLINGS. none PARENTS. Deceased. Was taken in by their grandmother after the accident, now deceased. No living relatives left. Thanks, fate!

adult life !

OCCUPATION. Cemetery caretaker (various wards, goes wherever their boss needs them. Takes jobs from other cemeteries too due to a good work ethic), body removals, restores/repairs monuments and headstones. Used to work for a detective agency. CURRENT RESIDENCE. The Misfit House in Archimedes. Recently, the new owner CLOSE FRIENDS. Zal Liakos (Unofficial life partner?). Has a few people they get along well with, like Eiden and Ismael. They've been in the city for so long that a lot of their other close friends are gone. They need some... RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single (and intends to keep it that way), but hooks up sometimes for casual relationships. FINANCIAL STATUS. Actually? They're pretty well off, but live modestly. They could probably spend the next five years without working a day and be just fine, between their savings and Zal's big money /j DRIVER’S LICENSE. It's all up to date! They love their van. CRIMINAL RECORD. It would be harboring a criminal, breaking and entering, mass-manipulation of crowd psyche, and some old petty theft, but 'conveniently', people forget those :) VICES. Weed, cigarettes, junk food, and varying weed-fueled junk food crimes

sex & romance !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual (and freezes up if they're talking to someone attractive for the first time) LOVE LANGUAGE. Favors, quality time, cooking for you RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Anda will love with everything they have. They're very attentive and understanding due to their empathetic powers, and they'll do just about anything for the people they love, even if it takes them out of their comfort zone. They're happy to mutually coexist. For romantic partners, they're the strong affectionate type, and they like to cuddle.

miscellaneous !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. How Soon is Now -- The Smiths HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Weed Video games, going to concerts, fixing furniture, gardening PHOBIAS. Trains. Really, really hates guns SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. Abysmal lmao. Everything they do, no matter how good it is, 'could always be better' VULNERABILITIES. They tend to run away from the things that scare them, unless someone will be harmed by running. They also suffer from the kind of hopelessness of being doomed by the narrative, but try to live a 'normal' life anyway. Rather than confront what scares them, they'll use their abilities to make people forget it ever happened, prolonging the inevitable. That used to be way better until their canon point updated, so now they're kind of in a toxic 'What's the point' whirlpool. On the more light-hearted side? They can't cook eggs, no matter how hard they try to.

#munday #weed ment #god... I've had Anda in this community for like 6 years #you need some friends buddy

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vinnie-w · 2 years

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【 Gravity Falls x Reader 】

➥ MASTERLIST ┃ CH 01 ┃ CH. 02 ┃ CH. 03

➥ TITLE: The Legend of The Gobblewonker

➥ PRONOUNS: You/Yours, They/Them

➥ POV: Third

➥ SUMMARY: It's family fun day and Stan has decided to take you all out for fishing, but you end up having a strange encounter instead!

➥ NOTES: unrelated to the story but I hate dancing, so much. -10/22/22

"Go, Sir Syrup!" Mabel cheered,

"Go, Mountie Man!" Dipper cheered, the twins holding up maple syrups over their mouths. They both kept cheering when someone poked their neck, causing them to drop the bottles and have a coughing fit.

"(Name) dear, don't do that. You're gonna kill them .." Elise said, not looking up from the stove. You had just woken up and walked in on them starting the syrup race and decided to ruin their silly cute race. You smiled sleepily at Dipper and Mabel,

"Sorry, couldn't resist, hehe" You giggled, obviously still tired. They both shoved your shoulders making you laugh more.

"Hey! No roughhousin' in the kitchen!" Grunkle Stan scolded from outside the kitchen. You sit next to Mabel and slam your head on the table, still tired, and Mabel decides to braid your messy hair. Dipper decides to read the newspaper next to him, waiting for breakfast.

"Ho ho, no way! Hey Mabel, (Name), check this out." He said, showing them the page he was reading.

"Human-sized hamster balls? I'm human-sized!" Mabel gasps, you look up to read the newspaper too and instead see an expensive brand of oil paints on sale on the bottom page.

"Oh crap, oil paint on sale? That's awesome!" You cheered, excitedly sitting up.

"No, non guys. This." Dipper said, pointing to the ad above the oil paint sale. It was an ad about a monster photo contest. "We see weirder stuff than that everyday! We didn't get any photos of those gnomes, did we?" Dipper asked,

"Nope, just memories. And this beard hair." Mabel said, holding up beard hair,

"Gross, why haven't you thrown that out?" You asked, leaning away from her as she holds it closer to Dipper. She shrugs and makes an 'I dunno' sound, sitting back down with the beard hair in her pocket.

"Good morning, knuckleheads. You three know what day it is?" Grunkle Stan asked, walking in.

"Um... Happy anniversary?" " .. Happy 'niversary??" You and Dipper hesitated,

"Mazel tov!" Mabel yelled, Stan hits Dipper and you with a newspaper,

"It's Family Fun Day, genius! We're cuttin' off work and having one of those, y'know, bonding-type deals." He said while checking if the milk had gone bad.

"Grunkle Stan, is this gonna be anything like our last family bonding day?" Dipper questioned,

---

Dipper, Mabel and you were all sat at the table helping Stan make counterfeit money.

"You call that Ben Franklin? He looks like a woman!" He said, police sirens started blaring and the flashing blue and red light.

"Uh oh."

---

"The county jail was so cold." Mabel shuddered, you nod in agreement. A large plate of pancakes was suddenly slammed on to the table cause all four of you to flinch.

"And guess who had to get your butts out of jail?" Elise sneered, Stan nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Said I was sorry, 'lise .." He muttered, embarrassed. "All right, maybe I haven't been the best summer caretaker. But I swear, today we're gonna have some real family fun. Now who wants to put on some blindfolds and get into my car?" Grunkle Stan asked, wrapping his arms around Dipper and Mabel.

"Yay!" The three of you cheered, "Wait, what?" Dipper muttered.

━━┃ ? ┃━━

Grunkle Stan was driving his car with you in the passenger and the twins in the back, blindfolded. Elise, unfortunately, couldn't come. Something about the 'darn raccoon den'. Stan leans down to adjust the radio and the tires screech.

"Gramps if we die, I will hurt you in the afterlife." You threatened, clinging to the leather chair and car door, feeling yourself get more and more dizzy.

"Whoa whoa! Blindfolds never lead to anything good." Dipper mumbled,

"Wow! I feel like all my other senses are heightened. I can see with my fingers!" Mabel said, touching Dipper's face, making him laugh. The car jumps and you bump into the doors. You mutter censored curses, curling even more into your seat.

"Whoa! Grunkle Stan, are you wearing a blindfold?" Dipper asked,

"Ha ha. Nah, but with these cataracts I might as well be." Grunkle Stan waved him off then leaning in and squinting. "What is that, a woodpecker?" Then he drives through a wooden guardrail, making you three scream.

---

Grunkle Stan helped you out, letting you lean on the front of the car (with several branches and sticks caught in the grill) with Mabel and Dipper at your side while he throws away the barf-filled paper bag into the nearest trash can.

"Yeesh, good thing I didn't throw that away .." He mumbled, "Okay, okay. Open 'em up!" You take your blindfolds off, rubbing your eyes to help adjust to the brightness.

"Ta-da! It's fishin' season!" Stan grinned,

"Fishing?" Mabel asked,

"Oh great, another reason for barfing." You grumbled, crossing your arms.

"What're you playin' at, old man?" Dipper interrogated,

"You're gonna love it! The whole town's here!" Stan said, gesturing to the townsfolks in the water.

"Here, fishy fishies! Get into the pan!" Lazy Susan said, waving her pan at the water.

"Say cheese!" Toby Determined said, taking a photo of a man with a large fish. The flash of the camera causing the poor man to fall backwards into the lake.

"Uh, is this good?" Marcus asked his dad, Manly Dan, holding up his fishing pole.

"NO!" Many Dan yelled, taking his son's pole and breaking it in half. "I'll show you how a real man fishes!" He then grabs a fish straight out of the water, laughing, and he throws it on the boat and proceeds to punch it repeatedly with his sons cheering him on.

"Get 'em! Get 'em!" Tyler chants, his boat moving towards their boat.

You watch him beat up the poor defenseless fish with a grimace. Sure you were violent but never towards defenseless animals, except cockroaches and mosquitos. Big emphasis on mosquitos.

"That's some quality family bonding!" Stan said,

"Grunkle Stan, why do you wanna bond with us all of a sudden?" Dipper asked,

"Come on, this is gonna be great! I've never had fishing buddies before. The guys from the lodge won't go with me: they don't "like" or "trust" me." Grunkle Stan explained,

"I think he actually wants to fish with us." Mabel muttered to both of you,

"Hey, I know what'll cheer you sad sacks up." Grunkle Stan said, slapping hats on the twins and you, "Pow! Pines family fishing hats! That's-that's hand stitching, you know." You take off your hats and see your names stitched on, the 'L' on Mabel's hat slips peels off and a letter in your name was stitched on backwards.

"It's just gonna be you, me, and those goofy hats on a boat for ten hours!" Grunkle Stan said, excited.

"Ten hours?" Dipper gaped,

"I brought the joke book!" Grunkle Stan said, holding up a 1001 Yuk 'Em Ups book.

"No! NO!" Dipper screamed,

"Great, motion sickness, sea sick and now a migraine?" You grumbled again, slouching.

"Stand up straight, kid." Grunkle Stan warned, you sigh and fix yourself.

"There has to be a way out of this." Mabel said,

"I SEEN IT! I SEEN IT AGAIN!" Someone yells, you turn towards the voice and saw an old man running from the docks, crashing and overturning various things. "The Gravity Falls Gobblewonker! Come quick before it scrabdoodles away!" Old Man McGucket shouts in the middle of a crowd, dancing frantically.

"Awww... He's doing a happy jig!" Mabel said,

"NOOO! It's a jig of great danger!" He yells to Mabel, you gently pull her behind you. Another man with a cap and hair covering his eyes comes out and sprays the older man with a spray bottle,

"Hey, hey! Now what did I tell you about scaring my customers? This is your last warning, Dad!" Tate McGucket warned,

"But I got proof this time, by gummity!" McGucket yelled, leading everyone to the dock. Mabel and Dipper holds your hands as you follow the old man.

"BEHOLD! It's the Gobble-dy-wonker what done did it! It had a long neck like a gee-raffe! And wrinkly skin like...like this gentleman right here!" Old Man McGucket points to Stan who was picking his ear. "It chewed me boat to smitheroons, and shim-shammed over to Scuttlebutt Island! YOU GOTTA BELIEVE ME!" He was practically begging to his son.

"Attention all units! We got ourselves a crazy old man!" Sheriff Blubbs snickered, everyone but the Pines and the ranger point and laugh at McGucket. Tate shakes his head in shame.

"Aww, donkey spottie! Aw, banjo polish!" McGucket said, walking off.

"Well, that happened. Now let's untie this boat and get out on that lake!" Stan said, stepping into his rowboat and starts untying it from the dock.

"Guys, did you hear what that old dude said?" Dipper asked,

"Aww, donkey spittle!" "Aw, banjo polish!" Mabel and you mimicked,

"The other thing. About the monster. If we can snag a photo of it, we can split the $2000 between the three of us!" Dipper said, you take your phone out to use the calculator.

"that's $666.. " You gasped,

"Imagine what you can do with six. Hundred. Dollars!" Dipper beamed as Mabel drifted off into her imagination.

---

Mabel, inside the human sized hamster ball, stands pridefully in front of a hamster in a smaller hamster ball.

"Not so high and mighty anymore!" Mabel boasted,

"Aww... " The hamster, surprisingly, said. Mabel laughs and crashes through the wall. She rolls out onto the street and meets Xyler and Craz.

"Hey, boys! You can look, but ya can't touch." She flirted, the traffic light goes green and she scurries down the street, squeaking.

Xyler and Craz stared at her in awe then at each other, "Awesome!" They yell.

---

"Mabel! Mabel?" Dipper called out while snapping his fingers.

"Dipper, I am one million percent on board with this!" Mabel said,

"I'm also looking forward to be working with you two on this Monster hunt." You said, the twins looked at you then at each other.

"Why are you, so formal?" Mabel asked,

"I-I'm not good with casualties .." You mumble, rubbing your arm. They shrug and Dipper runs up to Grunkle Stan.

"Grunkle Stan! Change of plans: we're taking that boat to Scuttlebutt Island and we're gonna find that Gobblewonker!" Dipper ordered,

"Monster hunt! Monster hunt!" You three chanted,

"Monster hunt!" McGucket chimed in, you three stop chanting and stare at him.

"Monster... Eh... I'll go." He mumbled and left. A loud honk was heard a bigger boat arrived at the dock.

"You dudes say somethin' about a monster hunt?" Soos asked,

"Soos!" Mabel cheered,

"Wassup, hambone!" Soos greeted, fist bumping with Mabel and making explosion noises. "Dude, you could totally use my boat for your hunt. It's got a steering wheel, chairs; normal boat stuff." Soos offered,

"All right, all right, let's think this through." Stan butted in, "Ya kids could go waste your time on some epic monster-finding adventure, or you could spend the day learning how to tie knots and skewer worms with your Great Uncle Stan!" The three of you look at Soos in his boat as he does the robot dance. You look back at Stan in his leaky old boat; he sniffs his left armpit. You then look at Scuttlebutt Island and grin at each other.

"So, whaddya say?" Stan confidently asked when Soos' boat drives away with you three on it.

"We made the right choice!" Mabel cheered,

"Ingrates! Aw, who needs 'em? I got a whole box of creepy fishing lures to keep me company." Stan said, looking at the lure with flies buzzing around them. He cringes in disgust and closes the box.

Meanwhile, S.S. Cool Dude was headed for Scuttlebutt island. Dipper stands on the stern of the boat, with one foor on the guardrail. He adjusts the visor of his cup.

"Hoist the anchor!" He ordered and Soos pulls up a cinderblock anchor.

"Raise the flag!" He ordered again, Mabel holds up a beach towel instead.

"We're gonna find that Gobblewonker!" She yelled,

"Do any of you dudes have sunscreen?" Soos asked,

"And we're going back for sunscreen!" You yell, Mabel and Soos cheer with him turning the boat back. Underwater, a strange shape swims by.

---

After fetching the much needed sunscreen, you're back on track to Scuttlebutt Island

"Alright. If we wanna win this contest, we've gotta do it right! Think. What's the number one problem with monster hunts?" Dipper asked,

"You're a side character and you die within the first five minutes of the movie. Dude, am I a side character!? Do y'ever think about stuff like that?" Soos panics,

"No, no, no. Camera trouble! Say bigfoot shows up. Soos, be Bigfoot?" Dipper asked, Soos strikes a Bigfoot pose.

"There he is! Bigfoot!" Dipper said, in mock acting voice and he pats his life vest "Uh-oh, no camera! Oh, wait, here's one! Aw, no film! You see? You see what I'm, doing here?" He asked, you all nod in understanding.

"That's why I bought seventeen disposable cameras!" He said, revealing cameras as he lists off their locations "Two on my ankle, three in my jacket, four for each of you, three extras in this bag, and one... under my hat! There's no way we're gonna miss this. Okay everybody, let's test our cameras out!"

Soos takes a picture of himself, the flash startling him. "Aw, dude!" He yells, throwing the camera overboard.

"You see? This is exactly why you need backup cameras. We still have sixteen!" Dipper said proudly, a seagull then starts flying over Mabel's head causing her to panic and throw a camera at it. "Fifteen! Okay, guys, I repeat; don't lose your cameras!" Dipper panicked,

"Wait, lose the cameras?" Soos asked,

"DON'T!" Dipper immediately answered

"Dude, I just threw two away." Soos points at the two cameras floating on the water. You went over to take a picture for memories but tripped on a loose board and dropped the camera you were holding into the water.

"Uh.. Sorry." You said, sheepishly turning to them.

"Twelve! All right! We still have twelve camera—" He accidentally crushes another with his fist "Eleven. We have eleven cameras."

"So what's the plan? Throw more cameras overboard or what?" Mabel asked, about to drop her cameras into the water.

"NO! No. Okay. You'll be lookout, Soos can work the steering wheel, (Name) can help navigate with Soos, and I'll be captain." Dipper said,

"What? Why do you get to be captain? What about Mabel, huh? Ma-bel! Ma-bel! Ma-bel! Ma-bel!" She chants,

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Dipper hesitated,

"What about co-captain?" Mabel asked,

"There's no such thing as co-captain." Dipper shot down

"Aw, whoops." Mabel tosses a camera into the water.

"Okay, fine! You can be co-captain." Dipper finally surrendered,

"Can I be associate co-captain?" Soos asked,

"As co-captain, I authorize that request." Mabel said,

"Can I be associate associate co-captain?" You asked,

"Well as first co-captain, I authorize your request, (Name)." Dipper said, you clap you hands in excitement.

"Now, our number one order of business is to lure the monster out with this." He said, gesturing at a barrel of Fish Food.

"Permission to taste some?" Soos asked,

"Granted." Dipper said "Permission co-granted." Mabel said,

"Dude?" Soos asked, turning to you.

"U-Uh, P-Permission associate associate co-granted!" You stuttered, another thing to stay awake about tonight.

"Permission associate co-granted." Soos said as he licks some, than gags and wipes his tongue, coughing. "Dude, I don't know what I expected that to taste like!" He said with you three laughing.

"Oh, Soos..." Dipper sighed,

---

Stan watches you four from afar, "Traitors! Ah, I'll find my own fishing buddies!" He said, looking around and sees a couple sitting in a boat up ahead. "Ah! There's my new pals!" He said, starting the engine

Reginald turned away from Rosanna, looking at a ring in a box; he takes a breath "Now that we're alone, Rosanna, there's a burning question which my heart longs to ask of you." He said,

"Oh, Reginald!" Rosanna tears up, when Stan pulls his boat up to theirs.

"Hey! Wanna hear a joke?" Stan asked the couple, they only stared at him. "Here goes. My ex-wife still misses me...but her aim is gettin' better! Her aim is gettin' better! Y'see, it's-it's funny because marriage is terrible." He explains then the couple row their boat away. "What?"

---

As you arrive at Scuttlebutt Island, there's fog everywhere. Soos is at the back of the boat shoveling fish food. Dipper, Mabel and you are at the front. You were looking through some binoculars Dipper is trying to see through the fog while Mabel is playing ventriloquist with a pelican.

"Hey! How's it going?" She asked the pelican,

"It's going awesome! Bow bow buh bow bow!" Mabel voiced the pelican,

"Mabel, leave that thing alone." Dipper said,

"Aw, I don't mind none!" Pelican said,

"Hey, look, I'm drinking water!" Mabel said, drinking water "Twinkle, twinkle little..." She chokes on water and coughs, and the pelican flies away).

"Aren't you supposed to be doing lookout and not (Name)?" Dipper asked,

"Look out!" Mabel yells and throws a volley ball at Dipper, hitting him on the arm. Dipper holds his arm and shivers. "Heh, heh. But seriously, I'm on it." She said, moving next to you. She shakes your arm lightly, you turn to her and she makes grabby hands. You gesture to your binoculars and she nods. You hand her the binoculars with a smile and step back from your spot, looking out into the ocean instead. The boat jolts to a stop, signaling that you've arrived at the island.

"See? We're here! I'm a lookout genius!" Mabel said, handing the binoculars back to you. "Hamster ball, here we come!" The team then disembarks and ventures into the foggy woods. Dipper and you lead the group, Dipper carrying a lantern and you carrying a flashlight. They soon come to a large sign nailed to a tree that says 'Scuttlebutt Island'. Soos and Mabel stop in front of the sign.

"Dude, check it out." Soos said, covering the 'Scuttle' part of the sign. "Butt Island."

"Soos, you rapscallion! Hey! Why aren't you two laughing? Are you scared?" Mabel teased, you weren't paying attention though. Your shoulders were tense and you were checking the area for anything or anyone dangerous, especially after the giant gnome fiasco.

"AH!" You squealed as Mabel tackled you from behind, you fall on your stomach with Mabel on top of you, laughing her heart out.

"Hah! Oh my gosh! You scream like a whistle!" Mabel laughed, getting up. While everyone was laughing, you sat up, embarrassed about your high-pitched scream.

"S-Shut up! I was zoning out!" You were as red as a tomato, picking up the flashlight before it rolled further into the fog. The trio stopped laughing as they heard a growling noise in the distance.

"Dude, did you guys hear that?" Soos asked,

"What was that? Was it your stomach?" Mabel asked him,

"Nah, my stomach normally sounds like whale noises." He said, Mabel and you leaned in to listen to Soos' stomach, which DOES make whale noises.

"Wow! So majestic." "Fascinating .." You both awe, Dipper gasps at a possum taking his lantern and running away.

"Our lantern! Aww! I can't see anything!" He yelled, turning towards you guys and flinches at the light. It was you pointing the flashlight towards him.

"Duuude, I dunno, man. Maybe this, uh... Maybe this isn't worth it." Soos hesitated,

"Not worth it? Guys. Imagine what would happen if we got that picture!" He said, imagining what would happen if he did get that picture.

---

In Dipper imagination, he's dressed like Indiana Jones being interviewed on a talk show.

"Tonight we're here with adventure seeker Dipper Pines, who bravely photographed the elusive Gobblewonker! Tell me, Dipper; what's the sevret to your success?" Charlie, the host, asked Dipper.

"Well, I run away from nothing." Dipper answered, dumping coffee into his mouth; an embarrassing picture of Grunkle Stan appears on screen. "Nothing, except for when I ran away from my annoying Grunkle Stan, who I ditched in order to pursue that lake monster." He explained.

"How right you were to do so. He looked like a real piece of work. I don't often do this, but I feel the need to give you an award!" Charlie said, handing Dipper a medal and they get their picture taken. Panning over to (Name) who was painting the wall with the new oil paints when Mabel suddenly crashes through the wall in a hamster ball.

"CHARLIE! WHY WON'T YOU INTERVIEW ME?!" She shouts, and you three run as Mabel chases after Charlie, screaming like a maniac.

---

"I'm in!" Dipper smiled,

"Me too!" Mabel said and they both run off in excitement.

"Shoot! Guys, wait up!" You call out, "Kuya, tara." You let slip, signaling for Soos, who looked scared, to follow.

"All right, dudes. I'm comin'!" He yells and you both chase after them. You finally catch up to them, seeing them waiting patiently for you both.

"Don't do that, double dorks. 'ma's gonna kill me if I lose either of you." You scold, ruffling their hairs and they laugh.

"You sure it's just that? Or are you gonna miss us?~" Mabel teased and Dipper laughs. You rolled your eyes, amused.

"Yeah sure, whatever makes you idjot's happy." You teased back, Dipper raised his brow.

"Id-jots? You mean idiots?" He asked,

"Idiot, id-jot. What's the difference?" You shrugged, Dipper shrugged as well and you walk in peace for a bit. Soos then starts to beatbox with Mabel rapping.

"My name is Mabel! It rhymes with table! It also rhymes with... glabel! It also rhymes with... Shmabel!" She sang, you laugh.

"There's also fable, stable, indistinguishable, unfashionable, uncontrollable, impressionable.. Those are just the first few words that popped up." You suggest,

"Woah! You've got a big vocab there, cous'." Mabel said,

"Yeah, dude. You should help Mabel write this down." Soos said suddenly the growling noise from earlier can be heard; a flock of bird flies overhead, away from the sound.

"This is it! This is it!" Dipper beamed, him and Mabel punching each other excitedly as they walk towards the sound. Soos grabs two large sticks and hands one to you, just in case. Walking through the fog, you stop the group when you spot a monster silhouette. Grabbing Dipper's arm and Soos grabs Mabel's, you duck behind a log nearby.

"Everyone: Get your camera's ready!" Dipper said, you turn on your camera. "Ready? GO!" Dipper yells. Soos yells and jumps over the log, holding his camera in front of him as he runs toward the silhouette, snapping photos at random. You three follow after him, but as you get closer, you discover the silhouette was the remains of a wrecked boat with beavers living on it. They were all communicating and hugging each other, you snapped a few quick photos of the beavers.

"But... but what was that noise, then? I heard a monster noise!" Dipper asked, clearly upset. The 'monster noise' sounds again. You turn to the noise and it turned out to be a beaver chewing on and sometimes activating a rusty old chainsaw.

"Sweet! Beaver with a chainsaw." Soos said, taking two pictures of it. "I'll give you the other one afterwards, dude." He said, you smiled gratefully at him.

"Maybe that old guy was crazy after all." Dipper muttered,

"He did use the word 'scrapdoodle'." Mabel muttered,

"Also donkey spittle, banjo polish, that and... " You faltered once you noticed they were staring at you. "I'll, uh. S-Sorry, I'll go with Soos." You stammered, feeling your face grow hot in embarrassment and run to Soos who pats your head to comfort you.

---

"Look, when you're threadin' the line--lot of people don't know this--but you wanna use a barrel knot." He then whispers, "That's a secret from one fishing buddy to another! Hehe." He explains to some poor kid on another boat.

"Uh, I, uh, who are you, exactly?" The poor boy nervously asked,

"Just call me your GRUNKLE STAN-"

"Sir, SIR, SIR! Why are you talking to our son? If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police!" The boy's mother shouts, pulling her son away from Stan.

"Ha, ha, you see, the thing about that is.. " He said, nervously. Starting his motor and speeds away.

"Go bother your own kids!" The mother yelled.

---

"Ooh, yeah! Work it! Work it! Nice! Nice! Gimme another one of these! Yeah, I like that one." Soos compliments the beaver he was taking pictures of, as it was posing on a stump.

You sat next to the twins, bored. Another beaver made it's way towards you, tilting it's head curiously and sniffs you. You turn to it, tilting your head at it as well. You held out your hand to pet it, it sniffs your hand and happily places it's head underneath it, letting you pet his head. The beaver crawled it's way into your lap and making itself at home. "Cutie.. " You mutter, continuing to pet it's head.

You hear Mabel scream and immediately carry the beaver, seeing the Gobblewonker's silhouette swimming away. "No way!" You gasp, running next to Dipper.

"This is it!" Dipper squeals, taking a picture. You grab his arm and gently pull him back. "Wh- Come on guys! This is our chance!" He said, Mabel and Soos back up and you continue to tug at his arm. "What's wrong with you guys?" Dipper asked.

"Dipper.. ?" "Dude...?" Mabel and Soos mutter, and you finally had enough and yank Dipper back, making him drop his camera.

"Wh- (Name)! Come on, It's not that hard, all right? All you gotta do is point, and shoot. Like this!" Dipper said, aiming his camera at the Gobblewonker and realizes it's right in front of him. The beast roars causing Dipper to drop his camera and the beaver climbs on your head and you pull Dipper away, running.

"Run!" Soos yells, the Gobblewonker pushes a tree over which falls and almost hits Dipper and Mabel, but Dipper lunges and Mabel and they roll out of the way, you slow down and grab the twins, helping them up. You continue to run and dodge falling trees and eventually catch up with Soos.

"Get back to the boat! HURRY!" Soos shouts, the Gobblewonker snaps at Mabel who hops onto Soos's back. Dipper trips and drops another camera but you catch him, carrying him like this;

(I didn't know how to describe it so have a picture 😭)

"The picture!" Dipper yelled,

"Dude, if it makes you feel any better, (Name) and I got tons of pictures of those beavers, dude!" Soos attempts to comfort him.

"We almost wasted a roll or two of film on them actually!" You added,

"WHY WOULD THAT MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?!" Dipper shouts back.

You finally arrived at the boat, the beaver still with you surprisingly. Soos lifts the twins off the boat and you help him push the boat back into the water. The twins help you up and you pull Soos up together and he runs towards the helm. "Let's get outta here, dudes!" He yells and drives the boat away backwards.

"Alright! This is it!" Dipper said, trying to take a picture "Cracked lens?! Soos! Get a photo!" He yelled only to see Soos throwing cameras at the monster. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dipper shouts,

"Oh! I still got one left! Don't worry, dude!" Soos answered, throwing a camera at Dipper but misses hitting the wall and breaking it instead.

"(Name)! Do you have any cameras left?!" Dipper pleads.

"Yeah but they're kind of filled with pictures of beavers! Sorry!" you apologized, checking all of your cameras for any space left. Dipper only sighs in disappointment.

---

As Stan was struggling to tie a knot, a few yards away were Schmipper and Schmabel's boat.

"Can you pwease tell me mo'e funny stories, Pop Pop?" He asked his grandpa,

"Anything for my fishing buddies!" Pop pop laughs and pats his grandchildren on their heads, Stan growls at the sight.

"Pop pop? I just weewized dat... I wuv you." Schmipper admitted,

"Aw, come on! Boo! Boo!" Stan yells,

"Hey, now! What's the big idea?" Pop Pop confronts,

"Maybe he has no one who wuvs him, Pop Pop." Schmipper suggested,

"Yeah, well, I.. I... " Stan stammered when the S.S. Cool Dude drives past him and soaks him. He throws his hat to the ground in frustration, then sits down and sighs.

---

"SOOS! BEAVERS!" Dipper yells, the boat crashes into the old, broken boat and beavers fly everywhere, biting the boat and the crew.

"Ah, beavers! Oh, no!" Soos cried, there were beavers biting Dipper's hat, Mabel shakes a beaver off of her arm, you were trying to pull off your new beaver friend who was attacking another beaver that scratched you in the face, and another lunges at Soos, who stumbles away from the wheel. Mabel run to steer the boat while you chased after Soos, trying to help him out. Dipper throws the remaining beavers on board at the Gobblewonker.

"KUYA! Quit running!" You yelled, Soos stops running and yells,

"Sorry dude! It helps with the pain." He apologized, you pull the beaver that was latched onto his face while he held onto the railing of the boat. Once you pulled it off you threw it off the boat with the beaver landing on another fisher's boat. They stared at each other before the beaver attacks the fisher while he screams in pain. The boat drives through a place with people fishing, who are overturned by the Gobblewonker behind them.

"Headlock!" Manly Dan said, headlocking a fish. His sons cheer him on when the boat is overturned by the wave from the Gobblewonker. Fish start raining down on them.

"The fishes! They seek revenge! Swim, boys! Swim!" Manly Dan shouts as the family frantically swims back to shore.

Back at the S.S. Cool Dude. The Gobblewonker swipes at the boat and manages to knock the control cabin off.

"Aah! Look out!" Mabel warned,

"Easy... Easy... " The man said as he and another man transport a glass sheet by boat when the S.S. Cool Dude drives through it.

"My glass!" The other man cried.

"WHERE DO I GO!?" Mabel shouts, looking at the dead-end ahead. Dipper looks around and flips through the pages.

"Um... uh... GO INTO THE FALLS! I think there might be a cave behind there!" Dipper said,

"MIGHT BE!?" You and Mabel yell back at him as you all scream. The boat goes through the waterfall and crashes into a cave behind, sending them into the dirt. Standing up, you see the Gobblewonker swim in and grab the twins' arms and back up only for it to get stuck in the cave entrance.

"It's stuck!" Mabel said,

"Haha! Yeah! Wait... It's stuck?" Dipper realized and searches for an extra camera, frantically. You lift Dipper's hat to reveal another camera, he laughs and takes several shots of the beast.

"Did'ja get a good one?" Mabel asked,

"THEY'RE ALL GOOD ONES!" Dipper laughed, hugging you and Mabel.

"WOO! HAMSTER BALL!" Mabel and you cheered with Dipper. The Gobblewonker, still roaring, gets hit by a rock. It's head falls down with an electric noise.

"What the.. ?" Dipper blurted, walking up to the Gobblewonker and touches it's side. "Huh?" You quickly follow him as he steps on the Gobblewonker and knocks on it. It makes a hollow metalic sound.

"The hell?" You mutter, Dipper tries to climb the Gobblewonker and you push him up, climbing after him.

"Careful, dudes!" Soos warned,

"We got it, Soos!" You shout back as you climb over the Gobblewonker, Dipper then pops up from the other side.

"Hey, guys! Come check this out!" He calls out to them. You four discover a handle and turn it, causing steam to come out. You pull the trapdoor causing more steam to come out and find Old Man McGucket insde, controlling the machine.

"Work the bellows and the... Eh? Aww, banjo polish!" He curses,

"Wha- Yo- You?! You made this? W-w-why?" Dipper questioned,

"Well, I... I, uh... I just wanted attention." McGucket cried,

"I still don't understand." Dipper said,

"Well, first I just hootenannied up a biochanical brain wave generator and then I learned to operate a stick-shift with ma beard!" McGucket explained,

"That's really cool and gross but like, why?" You asked,

"Well, when you get to be an old fella like ne, nobody pays any attention to you anymore." He answered, remembering to the time when he was outside his son's window with a baseball and gloves. His son, inside his office, closing his blinds. "My own son hasn't visited me in months! So I figured maybe I'd catch his fancy with a fifteen ton aquatic robot!" He laughs like a maniac, then sighs. "In, retrospect, it seems a bit contrived. You just don't know the length us old-timers go through for a little quality time with our family." McGucket finished explaining. You take off the hat Stan gave you and sigh,

"Dude, I guess the real lake monster here is you two. Heh." Soos said, the twins and you stare at him. "Sorry, that just like--boom--just popped into my head there."

"So, did you ever talk to your son about how you felt?" Mabel asked,

"No, sir, I got to work straight on the robut!" McGucket answered as a projector shows blueprints for the Gobblewonker on the trapdoor, "I made lots of robuts in my day!" He pushes button and projectors shows a newspaper with a robot pterodactyl breathing fire on a town and the word 'chaos', "Like when my wife left me and I created a homicidal pterodactyl-tron-" He pushed the button again and projectors shows a picture of a man, "-Or when my pal didn't come to my retirement party." he pushed the button again and projector shows another newspaper with a large robot terrorizing a town and the word 'disaster', "And I constructed an eighty ton SHAME BOT THAT EXPLODED THE ENTIRE DOWNTOWN AREA!" He laughs like a maniac, "Well, time to get back to work on my death ray!" McGucket finishes as he ducks into the Gobblewonker and construction noises can be heard from inside. "Any of you kids got a screwdriver?" He asked but proceeds to get ignored.

"Well, so much for the photo contest." Dipper sighed, taking out his last camera.

"You still have one roll of film left." Mabel points out,

"What do you you guys wanna do with it?" You asked, the twins look at you then at each other then the camera.

---

Stan with a defeated look, sighs as he drives his boat back to the shore. "Hey! Over here!" Dipper calls out as you drive by on the incredibly beat-up S.S. Cool Dude and both boats stop. Dipper takes a photo of Stan.

"What the-- Kids? I thought you two were off playing 'Spin the Bottle' with Soos" Stan said, you grimace at the thought.

"Well, we spent all day truing to find a 'legendary' dinosaur." Dipper started,

"But we realized, the only dinosaur we wanna hang out with is right here." Mabel said,

"Even if you're a big grump with some lame old jokes." You joked, earning an elbow jab from the smiling twins.

"Save your sympathy! I've been having a great time withoutcha'! Makin' friends, talkin' to my reflection-- I had a run-in with the lake police! Guess I gotta wear this ankle bracelet now, so that's fun." Grunkle Stan explained,

"There's... Lake police..?" You asked, no one answered you.

"So... I guess there isn't room in that boat for three more?" Dipper asked, Stan glares you three. The twins put their hats on while you turned the hat around, showing your poorly stitched name.

Stans expression softens as he asks, "You knuckleheads ever seen me thread a hook with my eyes closed?"

"Five bucks says you can't do it!" Dipper bets,

"You're on!" Stan challenged as Dipper climbs into the Stan'o'war.

"Five more bucks says you can't do it with your eyes closed, plus me singing at the top of my lungs!" Mabel adds,

"Another five if you can do it in under 30 seconds!" You chimed in, Mabel climbing in with Soos and you following after.

"I like those odds!" Stan said, "Whoa! What happened to your shirt? And what's with the beaver?" He asked the shirtless Soos and you, completely forgetting about the beaver that's been hanging onto the back of your shirt.

"Huh, forgot you were there." You said, pulling the beaver off and carrying it instead.

"Long story, dude." Soos replied,

"Well, good thing we have several hours to explain everything!" You said, nudging Soos.

"All right, everybody get together. Say fishing!" Dipper said, a camera in his hands.

"Fishing!" You, Stan and Mabel said, Soos steps into the picture but only his belly shows.

"Dude, am I in the frame?" He asked.

Dipper takes pictures of the entire thing like Mabel covering Stan's eyes, you behind them with the beaver on your lap and phone in hand with a stopwatch, as Stan peeks and tries to thread a hook; Stan reading jokes while Mabel and Soos laugh, you obviously holding in your laugh with a hand covering with your mouth and your Beaver friend on your lap, munching a wooden plank; Stan and Mabel stealing fish from Smabel and her grandfather; The twins, you and Stan driving away from the lake police. As Stan drives the boat, the boat shakes.

"Whoa!" Mabel yelped,

"What was that?" Dipper asked, Mabel shrugs and they lean back into their seats. Stan drives back to shore and you all get off,

"Uh, kid. The beaver." Stan points out, you look down at the beaver in your arms, happily snuggling into you.

"But-" You tried to reason,

"Kid, it's a wild animal and known for eating wood, which the shack is made of." He states, you frown and look back at the beaver who is staring at you curiously. You sigh, and walk back to water and gently drop it in.

"Sorry little guy, you can't come with." You apologized, petting it's head. As you stand up, it bites on your pant leg and pulls you back.

"Oh no no no no no no." You panic, trying to push it back as gently as you can. "Come on, little guy! You can't do this!" You cry, everyone at the car watches with a grimace before Stan has enough and runs up to you.

"Okay, you know what? SCRAM!" Grunkle Stan shouts at the beaver scaring it and it quickly swims away. You wave goodbye at it's retreating figure, sighing, and walk to the car. Everyone looks at each other sadly and they get in, as you waited for Stan to start the car, you heard the trunk open and shut with Stan just coming in.

The sun just set and the drive was quiet. Mabel and Dipper were asleep in the back and Stan dropped Soos off at his place. You were staring out the window. Stan glances at you then back at the road, "Uh, heh. Crazy day, right?" He asked, nervously. You only replied with a hum and a shrug, too tired to talk.

You arrived back at the Shack, was outside and led the sleepy twins back into the house. You went to help Stan out with carrying the fishing stuff back when he handed you a paper bag. "Here, looked like you were pretty upset back there." He said, you raise a brow at him and opened the bag.

"What?" You muttered, pulling out a stuffed beaver.

"There was a gift shop nearby and you looked really bummed out." He explained, carrying the fishing stuff back to the house.

You run up to him, hugging the plush. "T-Thanks, I, uh.. I really appreciate it." You grinned, Stan rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, it's whatever. Didn't want'cha cryin' about it to your 'ma." He teased, you laugh and look back at the plushie with a wide smile. Stan glances at you and sees you stroking the plush with your thumb and hug it again. You greet Elise with a hug and run upstairs to get ready for bed. Elise shuts the door for Stan as he drops the stuff next to the coffee table and drapes himself over the couch.

"Say, where'd (Name) get the toy from?" Elise teased with a smile, leaning on the couch.

"Don't talk about it." Stan groans.

━━┃ ? ┃━━

A/N: Surprise! You guys have motion sickness AND a small bonding time with your Grandpa Stan! You guys were also supposed to get easily sea sick but I completely forgot because of all the action 0(-(

WC: 6638 😭

#✿ writes #✿GRAVITY•FALLS✿#gravity falls x reader platonic #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #mabel pines x reader #dipper x reader #stanley pines x reader

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soaked-butch-boxers · 1 year

Text

cw: biting, rough handling, slight spanking, semi-public sex, "good boy" title, good old fashioned sportsdyke foreplay

notes: inspired by the song "Play The Field" by Partner; Cal uses they/them pronouns and Jada uses she/her

Out of Bounds, I've Gone Too Far

It took the longest time for me to understand how Jada joined our university's women's basketball team, but once I made the connection between her last name and Coach Gibson's, it became clear. Nepotism is such a powerful thing.

It took even longer for me to understand *why* she joined the team. But it really shouldn't have.

I actually got into this school on a basketball scholarship. It's my whole life. I hope to go pro. Jada Gibson, on the other hand, can't play for shit. She's a music major, and while her hands might be clever with guitar strings, they are dumb as dirt when it comes to dribbling. She can't even pass accurately. Not even when I'm less than a foot away from her. It's a good thing Coach keeps her on the bench during games. Otherwise, we'd lose every single one.

I never understood why Jada didn't mind benchwarming until that day in the locker room.

We had been 2 hours into that day's practice, when I got the idea to work with Jada one on one. Maybe improve her skills and confidence a bit.

"Sure thing, Cal," she grins, her perfect teeth flashing as she lightly punches me in the arm. My heart stutters, probably from the workout.

"Lets start with your free throw. You've got great power, but your aim could use some work. Plant your feet at the free-throw line. No, shoulder width apart. Shoulder width, dude, what are you doing?"

"Could you come help me?" A smirk. I try not to stare at her long brown fingers as they beckon me closer.

I swallow and place my hands on Jada's hips, squaring them toward the basket. Then, I bend down and grab her ankles through her socks, shifting them into place. I'm careful not to touch any bare skin as I breathe in her scent: sweat, asphalt, and a musky cologne. "Try now."

Her skinny arms windmill and the ball ends up way too far left. I jog to go retrieve it.

"Haha, sorry! I think the issue is my form! Come position my arms?"

I return with the basketball under my arm, face flushed. Probably from the jog. Definitely not from the idea of touching her arms. I tell myself to get a grip, and toss her the ball.

I stand behind Jada on the free throw line, and she presses her back into my chest. I take a deep breath. *Why is she so distracting?*

"Hold it with the tips of your fingers. Yeah, just like that." I move her left hand underneath, pull her arms to her right shoulder. "Okay, good. Now relax your right wrist." Focusing on the motions is the only thing grounding me from the feeling of her soft skin under my hands. "Okay, good. Now bend your knees and throw. The power comes from the full body movement, not just your arms."

She shoots. She scores.

"Fuck yeah! That's the first time I've gotten one in!" Jada whirls around and hugs me tight, the tip of her high top fade brushing against my chin. I'm nearly a whole head taller than her.

I gently allow myself to wrap my own arms around her and hold her close.

"Gibson! O'Donnell! Time to scrimmage!" Coach shouts at us.

"Thanks, Cal. You're a great teacher." She winks at me as she lets go.

I'm distracted the rest of practice, feeling the ghost of her arms around my back. For the first time ever, I'm relieved when it's time to hit the showers, glad practice is over so I can return to my dorm and cool off, get this weird feeling to go away.

I'm always last to take a shower. I don't like getting undressed in front of the girls. I don't want anyone to see me with my binder off.

Jada usually never showers in the locker room, so I'm surprised when I see her grab a towel.

"Not gonna shower at your place this time?" I ask, trying to seem nonchalant, and not as if seeing her in nothing but a towel would turn me into a puddle.

"Everyone cleared out so fast today, I figured I may as well go ahead and get clean. I hate smelling like shit, stinking up the dorms."

"Then. Why don't you normally just shower here?"

"I just don't wanna make anyone uncomfortable. You know, since I'm a dyke and everything," she laughed.

"Bro, more than half the team are dykes, me included. You're not making anyone uncomfortable!"

"Yeah, I know, I know. Just don't wanna make anyone feel unsafe." She looks away for a second. I can't read the tone of her voice, but I feel the need to comfort her.

"I always feel safe with you," I say, walking over to her and laying a hand on her arm. "You don't have to worry."

Jada smiles up at me, full of a sweetness that almost hurts my heart. And then, she suddenly grins.

"Great. Because I was hoping you'd help me wash my back. Can't always reach it, you know?" She says it innocently enough, but I can't help but blush furiously.

"Uh -- of course!" I hate my stutter.

Jada starts to pull of her shirt, and I immediately whip around so I don't see her. I can't tell if that is for her sake or mine. I listen intently to the clothes shuffling off her small body, and try not to imagine what that looks like. I hear her walk over to the showers in her Nike slides, turn the water on, and close the curtain.

"Okay, dude, you can come help now!"

I give my head a shake, trying to clear it. *This is just friendly. She just needs help scrubbing her back. Don't make this weird.* I walk over and pull back the curtain slightly, expecting to see her bare back. My jaw drops.

Jada is standing there, in nothing but her slides, grinning up at me. Her large, dark breasts immediately draw my eyes. Her dark brown nipples are so hard. My eyes follow the happy trail down her soft stomach, and as I see the cluster of black curls between her legs, my eyes glaze over.

"I know this is really forward, but I've been flirting with you all season, and you haven't noticed, not even when I kissed you! We don't have to do this, you can walk away, but I really --"

Surprising both Jada and myself, I bend down and kiss her, clutching her jaw in one hand and her bare waist in the other. It's intense, full of grazing teeth and wandering tongues.

She pulls apart briefly and sighs out, "Fucking finally," before grabbing the collar of my jersey and pulling me into the shower with her.

"Oh, sorry, dude!" Jada giggles as she realizes she just drenched my clothes. "Lets get this off." She begins removing my jersey, then suddenly stops.

"What?"

"Cal. You're fucking binding? You've been running around all day, that isn't safe! You know better than that, I can't believe you!"

"I know, I know it's dangerous. And if any of my friends did that, I'd tell them the same. But I'd rather feel the pain of my ribs being constricted than the pain of seeing my body like that."

"No. I'm sorry for snapping," she says, smoothing her hands over my chest, immediately relxaing and arousing me simultaneously. "I'm just worried about you. I can't imagine what it's like. Just try to stay safe, okay? You'll be able to have top surgery soon, and then --"

I kiss her again. "You're sweet. But shut up and fuck me."

A pause. Then, Jada's eyes turn dark, and she slams me against the shower wall. The water continues to run down my short hair and clothes. She leans in close.

"Fine," she hisses. "But we're discussing this later. I fucking care about you, dude."

She leaves my binder on without even mentioning it, which I'm grateful for, and she immediately moves her hands to my waistband.

"Can I take these off, Cal?"

She's pressed up right against me, my heart is hammering in my chest, and I'm soaked in more ways than one.

"Y-yes."

Jada pulls my basketball shorts down to my ankles. "Cute boxers," she smirks, before pulling those down too. And suddenly, my wet cunt is exposed to the locker room, my t-dick sticking out between my glistening folds.

"Jesus Christ," she whispers, almost reverently.

I clear my throat, suddenly shy. Jada seems to notice, and gives me a gentle kiss to my lips before turning me around so my face is againt the wall and my bare ass is exposed. She slaps it lightly and chuckles as I jump, then leans in close to my ear.

"You are so. Fucking. Handsome. And I've wanted you for so long."

I blush everywhere.

She kisses the back of my neck, her arms pinning my hands to the wall. I gasp as her teeth drag over my skin. She bites down on the back of my collarbone, and I groan.

"Fuck, baby, you sound so good."

She presses my hands to the wall, nonverbally demanding that I keep them there. Then her fingers trace the water droplets down my back as I shudder and pant. My back is always so sensitive.

She moves her hands down my lower back and lands another light slap on my ass. It doesn't hurt, but I still jump.

*I am taller and bigger and stronger than her. Why am I letting her push me around like this?*

Jada presses her body against mine, and I can feel her coarse hair against the ass she keeps spanking. She clutches my throat with her left hand and reaches her right around my hips before slowly dragging a finger over my t-dick. I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

"Ohhhhh, no, baby, don't try to be quiet. I wanna hear you!"

"But -- Jada, w-what if --" I'm panting, unable to deliver a full sentence as she rubs me mercilessly.

"What if someone hears you?" Her left hand grabs a fistful of my short hair and she pulls my head back. "I want them to. I want them to hear you finally come undone on my hand."

I can't help it. I whine.

"Good boy." And I can hear the smirk in her voice.

She kicks my legs apart to get a better angle, notices my breath catch when she hits *just* the right spot, and starts rubbing me harder and faster.

I obey her earlier command and keep my mouth open, not bothering to muffle the unholy sounds falling from my parted lips. I'm getting more and more desperate with each stroke, and as Jada starts licking the water droplets off my neck, I start to unravel.

My whole body is shaking, and I'm so close so close so close so close

"Please," I whimper between sighs and gasps and groans and moans. "Please, Jada!"

"Good boy, being so polite."

As soon as she calls me a good boy, my orgasm hits. I feel my eyes roll in the back of my head, my whole body sieze up, my legs vibrating and struggling to keep myself upright, my tight cunt clenching around nothing. She rubs and kisses me through it, and when I finally relax and collapse against the wall, she holds me and strokes my wet hair.

"God, Cal." She presses a kiss to my cheek.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," I sigh. "Thank you."

"Did you just thank me?" She's laughing, and I pout at her. I never pout! She does crazy things to me.

"Well --" I start to splutter. She tries to shut me up with a kiss. "No, seriously, Jada! I feel the need to thank you. That was fucking amazing!"

"I'd wanted to for a long time."

"Really though. I feel the need to express my gratitude," I lower my voice into what I sincerely hope sounds like a seductive growl, and not a flustered enby with a fucked out voice. "And I have a few ideas on how I can do that..."

I eye the black curls between her legs and watch her grin.

#dyke nsft #nonbinary nsft #lesbian nsft #transmasc nsft #butch4butch nsft #butch nsft

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