#you think I'll ever be able to get the to help me figure out why I have this cough that just kinda happens sometimes

[medicinemane]

Ok, can I just complain about what has just clicked to me that it's actually a full on trend with youtube thumbnails?

Fucking sick of the pointing arrow with "winner?" every fucking time there's anything that involves any kind of competition these days

Saw it a little, thought it was dumb, but it's becoming more and more and more common and... and I'm not even that mad at the people who do it cause I get it, but fuck I'm sick of it and fuck I'm kinda sick of... of if it's working the people who have shiny brain and click cause oh! must find out, or if it's not working the youtube algorithm for I guess making it seem like it work

Actually I suppose I just am fucking tired of the whole culture that leads to it in the first place of fucking gotta have jingling keys at all time, gotta fucking consume, always need something to consume

Fuck man, I'm almost glad that some days like the past couple I've just kind of sat around in malaise, bored out of my mind while not being able get myself to do anything I wanted or find anything that was entertaining... but like, fuck, I think I'd rather get like that sometimes but know how to just sit through it than have to have new content every second of every day or else

(And this isn't a straw man and this isn't railing against the youth or something, I know a dude that's like that who is a bit older than I am)

"Winner?", man, just fucking pitch me what's happening and I'll watch it or not

[orbitsaturn]

"I order you to date my servant!"

─ in which a rambling lizard ("dragon") plans to use you for his self-proclaimed "world domination"

"once you get kinich to be all mushy and soft I'll be able to take over the world!"

kinich x reader

friends to lovers (idiots in love)

2.1k words

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k'uhul ajaw is a "mighty" and "feared" dragon, but one thing is hindering him from world domination.

it's his servant kinich!

but the fearsome ajaw has a perfect plan to make him kick the bucket. it's to utilize that one human that's been making him act up so much.

ajaw can vividly remember what's been happening the past few months. how his contractor has been staring off into space ever so often. how he seems to talk you more compared to other people. how he always lets his gaze linger on your form before you bid goodbye to him.

k'uhul ajaw has a hunch that his servant is lovesick.

and he'll use that perfect opportunity to finally make that arrogant human pay!

but the problem is, he can only come into contact with you when your near kinich since he can't stray far from his contractor.. well that's easier said than done since you guys have been "accidentally" been bumping into each other all the time. kinich is soooooo obvious about his feelings towards you ajaw finds it unbelievable that you haven't noticed yet! he almost feels bad for kinich. why can't you notice how lovestruck his servant is?! as ajaw is stuck in his thoughts a familiar voice calls out from a distance, one he can distinctly recognize.

"hi kinich! hi ajaw!" the voice, which came from you instantly made ajaw whip his head to his servant. archons, he can already see hearts in the fool's eyes.

"good morning." greeted kinich, he walked over to you and that's when k'uhul ajaw was going to put his plan into action.

"psst... psst... human..." ajaw quietly whispered to you, evoking a strange look from kinich. noticing kinich's suspicious look ajaw rushes to you. "look, i need your help. you'll be honored to help the great dragon k'uhul ajaw, yes? make kinich all mushy an-"

"GWAAK" ajaw is suddenly lunged backwards by kinich, his tail spiking up, face turning red.

"what do you think you're doing?" kinich eyes the little dragon suspiciously, "sorry if he said anything weird," he sends you an apologetic look before turning back to ajaw again. "now tell me, what did you tell them? i won't hesitate in putting you into time-out again." the yellow dragon quickly interjected, "NO! i never even said anything weird! and plus you never hesitate in putting me into time-out so i know that's a lie!" ajaw growls at kinich before quickly looking over to you.

catching ajaw's look you devised a plan to get a conversation with the small dragon without kinich getting suspicious, "yeah! ajaw didn't say anything bad. oh! are those grain fruit over there?" you point to the patch of grain fruit growing at a reasonable distance away from where you're currently at.

"oh? i'll get some for you if you want." kinich looks over to you, waiting for your approval.

"sure! we can share once you get a good amount!" you flash him a smile, "okay then," he gives you a gentle smile back before heading over to the patch of grainfruit. after the coast was clear you quickly turned to ajaw, giving him a confused look.

"so... what do you mean make kinich all mushy?"

"it's exactly what it means!" ajaw yells in annoyance, "he gets all mushy, his ears turn red, and he-" you quickly interject him, as you exclaim in surprise, "you mean i make him sick?!" you looked at the little lizard (dragon) worriedly. you figured he only talked to you out of obligation, but you didn't think he'd be sick of your presence! was he faking his kindness towards you the whole time?! then shouldn't you just start staying out of his way..?

no!

you always felt comfortable talking to him, you like (as a friend of course...) him for archons sake!!

"yes! you make him so (love) sick! how come you didn't notice yet?!" ajaw says, sighing in exasperation. geez, throughout every century humans seem to act the same, being stupidly in love. "anyways, I have a plan that'll help the both of us," ajaw looks at you with fierce determination, "I need you to be by his side as much as you can!"

huh?

"wouldn't that make him sicker of me?!" gasping, you look at the dragon in shock. if kinich already felt sick seeing you, why would you try to be near him all the time?! it's like basically saying 'im so annoying the only way to get rid of me is kicking me'

"that's the point! I need you to make him so mushy over you that when his guard is eventually down I can strike him down and initiate my plans for world domination!!" the little dragon laughs menacingly.

"err... and why do i need to comply with you?" you look at ajaw confused, "don't you like kinich? if you follow my plan it'll eventually get you two together!!" the little dragon looks at you, annoyed. "why should i trust you?! and what do you mean i like kinich??" you remark, eyeing ajaw suspiciously.

"you obviously like kinich! this'll help you both!" he starts outright screaming, turning red in frustration. you stare at him confused, you do like kinich, you wanna be with him all the time, but didn't kinich like you too? like as a friend of course!

but what does ajaw mean by making him all "mushy???" like... do you just... turn him into slime?

after much thinking of ajaw's words you feel a spark in your head.

wait, like mushy in the way you can't think of anyone but them?? like you can only focus on a person despite everything happening around you?? was that it?

a scream breaks you out of your thoughts.

"AAACCKKKK!!"

you look over your left and see kinich with a handful of grain fruit. your heart skips a beat.

huh? your heart skipped a beat?

focus!

you look at him, suddenly self-aware of everything around you. geez, why do you suddenly feel sweat forming on your hands?? why does he look extra shinier today?!

"are you okay?" he looks at you concerned. the gentle tone of his voice startling you out of your daze. you make eye contact with him, his amber-green eyes focusing on you intently. "yeah," you look away nervously, cursing yourself for acting nervous for no reason, "i'm okay," giving him a smile to reassure him.

"look, i know you're faking. are you sick?" he walks closer to you, "may i?" he hovers his hand over your forehead, and you can only hum and nod in response.

your heart kept beating quickly, did your heart always beat like this around him before? why were you suddenly so self aware of him when ajaw said that you liked him?!

as he gets your approval, his hand brushes the hair away from your face. your senses going into overdrive by the stimulation.

his face leans in closer.

you suddenly panic, closing your eyes.

wait are you even panicking?!

the sight of nothing leaves your senses heightened, you suddenly feel the humidity of natlan's weather, his hand against your cheek, the smell of his clothes permeating your senses, and the brushing of his hair against your face. you feel a sensation on your forehead, opening your eyes slowly you're instantly met with green and yellow hues, the shades of kinich's eyes leaving you mesmerized. his eyes have always been the focal point of his features, the way his eyes were akin to luscious greenery, and how his pupils were shaped like diamonds. they were beautiful. as you were staring at his eyes in a daze you were snapped out of your thoughts, as kinich mutters, you notice a look of concern painting his features, "your forehead's hot, are you sure you're okay?" his face dangerously close to yours.

"i-i am! it's just it's been hot lately!!" you exclaim, fanning your face, trying hard not to look away from kinich. yet, he doesn't buy your excuse, "eat this for now," he shoves a piece of grainfruit in your mouth.

"i'll walk you home." he sticks his hand towards you. "thank you..." you grab his hand, failing to notice the yellow dragon behind you, "i said make kinich mushy, not you." ajaw whispers menacingly behind you, while you glare at him.

what did he mean you're getting mushy?!

and since when did you ever agree to his proclamation??

turning your attention back to kinich, you notice he's still holding your hand. causing him to cough awkwardly and apologize.

"sorry." he lets go, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "oh, it's okay!" you exclaim, quickly grabbing hold of his hand again. he gives you a small look of surprise before intertwining his fingers with you, causing ajaw to burst out laughing.

"HAHAHAHA!! you loveb-" as the small dragon gloats over his success the snap of kinich's fingers causes him to disappear.

thank goodness! wait.

did you just grab kinich's hand?! you were holding hands with kinich. do friends hold hands while feeling nervous about them?? no they don't... but what if some do?! do friends do this..?

as he walks you to your house you engage in small talk with him. but the topic of ajaw's deal that he made.

"he said he wanted me to make you all mushy, told me how your ears supposedly turn 'red' ." you recall ajaw's words to kinich, "oh, i see. don't mind him." his hand twitches, triggering you to look up at him.

what met your eyes shocked you.

his ears were red. his free hand covering his face, a tinge of pink painting his cheeks. is this what ajaw meant by mushy?

he's cute.

friends don't feel 'mushiness' around each other. people experience that when they like one another.

you like kinich, and you were burying your feelings in fear of ruining your relationship with him, but witnessing his reaction towards you firsthand gave you the push of confidence you needed to stop the denial in your heart.

you tug on his hand, "wait, kinich."

he turns to face you, the look of fondness in his eyes evident after you realize his feelings. "kinich, can we go to the mountain where we first met?" you look at him, hands slightly trembling. "are you sure? I don't want you to exert yourself too much if you're sick," his hand tightens.

you smile, "don't worry I'm not sick!"

─���

you met kinich after he accepted your commission. you knew the people from the scions of canopy were adept with harsh terrain, so you were relieved when kinich accepted your commission.

your commission was simple, it was obtaining various herbs that grow in the sides of mountains, but you did offer a high mora award to anyone who accepted it!

"here you go." kinich hands over a basket full of herbs to you, "thank you so much!" you exclaim, smiling at him.

and now you're back on the same mountain again but for a different reason.

"the breeze here feels so nice!" you run around swinging your arms out, "kinich come here!" you motion him to get closer to you, which he immediately complies with.

you take in a deep breath.

this was it.

it was now or never.

"kinich i have something to tell you." you look at him, your voice trembling, "look, i've liked you for a while, i just realized recently, i don't want to make you uncomfortable so we can still be friends-"

"no." kinich interjects, grabbing your hand.

your eyes widen.

"i like you too." he says, his ears red, "so," he brings your hand to his lips, "i want to be with you," he says before pressing a kiss on the back of your hand.

without the both of you realizing, ajaw was out of timeout, the first person he spotted being you, realizing the opportunity he quickly yells, pointing at you,

"puny human! i order you to date my servant!"

but what he didn't notice was the flustered expression on you, along with kinich's glare directed towards him. realizing his mistake ajaw panics, "w-wait!! i didn't mean to-" the little dragon was cut off as he was sent to time out once again.

after the disturbance was gonekinich turns to face you, his hand still holding yours, "well," he gives you an amused smile, "i guess this was the first time i agreed with ajaw's commands." in response you smile back at him.

"i guess we should thank him when he's out of timeout!" you laugh before intertwining your fingers with his.

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sorry for late post anatomy is kicking my ass rn _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[erwinsvow]

can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share

he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two

the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.

everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.

hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.

you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.

"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.

it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.

you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.

how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.

the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.

"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.

"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.

"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"

"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."

"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.

"oh."

"listen, kid, i'm so-"

"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."

"y'not walking. it's dark and-"

"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."

"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.

you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.

"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."

"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.

"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"

"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.

you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.

rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.

"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.

rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.

"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.

"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"

"i don't think that's a good idea."

"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."

"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."

he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.

"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."

without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.

surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.

[dodger-chan]

AO3 is down? Okay, well here's about 900 words of a story I don't think I'll ever finish

Edit: now on AO3

The Alibi

Clearing Eddie Munson’s name went against every instinct Jim had honed in his years as a cop. Munson was bad news. A drug dealer. A born criminal, in and out of Hawkins Police custody since he was a kid.

Admittedly, no small number of those early detentions were more about trying to track down his father than anything Munson had done himself. He’d been an uncooperative shit, though; always insisting he knew nothing while sporting bruises fresh enough to prove his old man hadn’t been gone very long.

If Jim hadn’t known for a fact the kid was completely innocent of the three murder charges. If he hadn’t been told by Henderson, both Sinclair kids, the good Wheeler, and Harrington and his girlfriend that Munson had been instrumental in beating back the monsters beneath Hawkins. If Jane hadn’t looked at him with loving expectation, hadn’t been so sure her old man would make fairness and justice align, well, Jim wasn’t sure what he would have done. It wouldn’t have been this.

This being escorting the Harrington kid to the hospital to sneakily convey the plan to Munson, and then ruin his life.

Ruin Harrington’s life, that is. It might save Munson’s. 

----------

Jim recognized Wayne Munson from all the times he’d come down to the station to claim his nephew. Wayne looked older than Jim remembered him. Eddie, pale with blood loss and handcuffed to the bed, looked younger. He didn’t know the officer standing guard in Munson’s room; a new hire while he’d been in Russia.

“It’s family only,” the officer instructed. Jim frowned at him.

“I'm not here to visit.” Jim wasn’t the chief anymore, but he still knew how to talk so the lower ranks would listen. “I’ve found Munson’s alibi.”

He shoved Harrington forward. The kid reached a hand out towards Munson, looked at the guard and stopped. He stiffened his shoulders and placed his hand on top of Munson’s. Not a bad performance.

“I thought the cops would ask me about our last date on Friday. But they didn’t come around.” Harrington kept his eyes down, but spoke to Munson. “Why didn’t you tell them? Did you think I’d lie about being with you?”

“Maybe? The whole ‘no one can know’ thing seems pretty important to you.” Between the handcuffs and the IV drip, Munson couldn’t really shrug. “You still take girls out. You took a girl to the game that night, even.”

Harrington had said Munson would figure out the plan quickly, that they wouldn’t need to feed him very much information. Jim hadn’t expected he’d not only get the gist of the plan but be able to fish for useful information as well. He was impressed.

“And took her home right after so I could meet you.” Harrington raked a hand through his hair. “You know the girls are just for show. So no one suspects. I don’t… I don’t sleep with them anymore.”

“That’s enough.” The officer looked between the two young men, then at Jim. He obviously wanted to take Harrington out of the room and interrogate him properly, but wasn’t sure he could leave his murder suspect. 

“Munson’s not going anywhere,” Jim pointed out. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you call Chief Powell.”

The officer nodded in deference to Jim’s air of authority. He left, taking Harrington with him to keep the boys from discussing their stories any more.

It clearly hadn’t occurred to him that Jim might help them get their stories straight. Ideally, he’d speak to Munson alone, but presumably the elder Munson cared more about keeping his nephew out of jail than the truth.

“Right, so after your club meeting-” Jim started. Munson interrupted him.

“I drove to Steve’s place. I parked my van in the woods so none of his neighbors would see it. Like I always do.” Munson rolled his eyes. “I got there first; let myself in the back. Steve got there maybe five minutes after me. We had a fight, about Steve taking girls out. Again. I will spare you and Wayne exactly where that led, though I expect the police will request all the details, perverts that they are.”

“You got all that from ‘date last Friday?’” Jim asked. It was almost exactly the story Steve had told him. Not the same words, not the same point of view, but the same events. 

“No, I got it from ‘last date, on Friday,’” Munson corrected. Jim wasn’t sure why the difference mattered. “So our last date, but like it happened on the Friday before Spring Break.”

Jim frowned, confused. Wasn’t Harrington pretending to be dating Munson? He looked over at Wayne, who seemed as lost as he was.

“I thought you broke up with that boy?” Wayne was apparently lost in a very different place than Jim was.

“I did, though, under the circumstances, I may omit that detail. Unless Steve is planning to say I dumped him before I left that morning?”

“He isn’t.” Harrington had asked if the alibi would sound more believable coming from a current or ex-boyfriend. Jim had thought a break-up the day of the murder sounded too convenient. Not that either would have been credible enough to clear Munson’s name if the Feds weren’t around to put their thumb on the scale. Harrington’s story was more to get them to place it on the side of Munson being released rather than blackmailed into a plea agreement.

“Then I guess he and I are officially back together.

[m-musings]

Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader

A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.

Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao

"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"

An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.

Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.

As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.

"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"

During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.

Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.

Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.

"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."

"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"

"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.

After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.

With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.

Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."

"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.

"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.

"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."

"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."

(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.

"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.

Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.

"I never said that."

"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.

Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.

"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."

"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"

"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."

(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.

As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.

Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.

"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.

Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"

"But why? What's so special about me?"

"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.

(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.

"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.

With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.

"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.

Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.

[zorosimpclub]

Annoying neighbour – Toji NSFW

⊹˚. ♡ Summary: Toji is your annoying neighbour who keeps you up at night with his 'noise', you go over to take matters in your own hands.

⊹˚. ♡ Content: 18+ only, MDNI – fem!reader, smut, enemies to lovers, degradation, praise kink, spanking, creampie, unprotected, hair pulling.

⊹˚. ♡ Word count: 4K

⊹˚. ♡ Author's note: opening jjk requests, drop them in the comments below c: (also toji??? i'd let him ruin me anyday–)

Toji is her neighbour who she has had one conversation with in her life (the day she moved in). He has been causing havoc with the beeline of women brought over every night, keeping her up with the dull creaking sounds of his bed and moans of various women throughout the week.

Today she decided to confront him. She pounded her knuckles against his door annoyed at the fact that she hadn’t been able to sleep yet again last night.

"We've never formally met, I'm your neighbour. Mind keeping the fucking noise down?" She narrowed her eyes and leaned against his doorframe

Toji looked at her for a moment, his eyebrow twitching. This chick has nerve. Toji stares her down, his lip curling into a smirk.

"And why should I? It's my place, I do whatever I want in here."

"Right, I don't care what you do in your house, I just ask that you keep the noise down at night. Some of us have to work in the mornings." Her lips curled down in distaste, this man was starting to get on her last nerve. Toji smirked and folded his arms across his his chest, arms bulging with all the muscle.

"I pay rent for this apartment and I'll do whatever I want. Don't like it? Move."

She stared at him a bit irritated, though she was a good foot shorter than him, he didn't intimidate her at all. "Ass." She said, voice laced with anger, hair swaying furiously as she walked off.

"Doll face!" He called out to her.

She glanced back at him, not turning around fully, a menacing glare on her face, "Huh?”

He smirked.

"I couldn't help but notice you have a nice... figure. How would you like to spend the night with me? Maybe you’ll learn to stop being so uptight." He says, his voice oozing with confidence.

"In your dreams, asshole." She turned back around and slammed the door of her apartment shut. They had lived in opposite apartments in the building for the past year and a half, but she barely saw him since he was pretty much a night owl, just partying or sleeping with women during unholy hours of the night.

She really didn't care for his smooth words. He thought he was hot and her rejecting his flirting like that made her more attractive to him. He walked over to her door, pounding on it with his fist.

"Hey, babydoll! Why don't you open the door and let me in for a second?" He was speaking in a condescending tone as if they had a close relationship.

She ignored him, typing away at her laptop. There's no way she was going to humour him after how crass he was to her.

Toji knocked on the door twice more.

"C’mon, honey, don't be like that." He says in that same condescending tone, making sure to raise his voice so he can be heard. He wanted the whole building to know just how badly he wanted her.

She ran to her door embarrassed at what the rest of the building would think, the last thing she wanted to do was be a nuisance to her neighbours. Opening the door, she spoke in a hushed but annoyed tone, "What the hell do you want?"

"Oh, aren't you just a doll?" He says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "That ass of yours must have ya drowning in guys, can't get enough of their attention, can ya?"

She shot him an incredulous look, what was this guy's problem? She made sure to keep quiet when she had late night 'visitors' over unlike him, if anything she was the model neighbour,

"Not that it's any of your business..." She smirked and stepped a little closer to him in a intimidating manner and whispered, "...but I'm not some attention starved whore like you."

Toji's eyes widened in surprise at her boldness. No one had ever talked to him like this before. Most women melted under his charming gaze, and the ones that didn't, he was typically able to manipulate with his words.

"Oh, you've got mouth on you, don't ya?" Toji laughs, taking a step closer to her. She could feel his hot breath as he spoke to her in a condescending tone.

She tiptoed to whisper in his ear, "Too bad you'll never know what that mouth will be like on you."

Within a flash, she slammed the door shut in his face. The rest of the evening was uneventful, thankfully Toji didn't come to bother her again (for now). She was doing her chores around the house since it was a Saturday tomorrow and wanted to get the house prepped for a relaxing weekend.

After a glass or two of wine she stripped down to her satin pyjamas, ready to slip into bed. It was 3 AM and she felt sleepy – everything was all good and dandy until she heard a woman moaning and bed creaking come from across the building,

"A-ahhh T-Toji....yes!" the voice whined, clearly in pure bliss but she wasn't having any of it.

The noise across the hall was all too familiar. Those sounds of ecstasy, of pleasure... she knew he was at it again with some random woman. She wasn't about to let this keep her up, but she wasn't going to let him get away so easily.

She had it. She was done. She walked to her door and started banging on Toji's apartment door. This was unacceptable. She yelled angrily into the air, "Shut up!"

She could hear Toji laugh from his apartment after hearing the banging on the door. He gets up from his bed, not bothering to put any clothes on and stumbled over to the door, cracking it a little open to smirk at her.

"Did you come over to join, doll face?"

He gave her an once over, she was dressed in incredibly revealing satin pyjamas and her face was cute as always, even if she was seething.

"As if I'd do something as stupid as that. Tell your "visitor" to keep it down. It's 3 fucking AM asshole! People are trying to sleep!"

"She's not a visitor, babydoll... she's a regular." Toji smirks at her, taking a long drink from some sort of bottle. "Why don't you tell her yourself?"

He opens the door a little more to let her see his 'regular' and the full image of what was happening.

And in an instant, she was blushing like she had never done before. The woman had her mouth latched onto the side of his neck, but that's not why she was blushing. No. She was blushing because when she looked down, she realised that he was in fact wearing nothing. He stood naked and proud, undoubtedly because he had an irresistible physique and an... impressive–

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?" Toji asked her with a smirk. "You call me an ass and an attention starved whore, and then you come over here at 3 AM to complain about my noise. Meanwhile, you're looking at me like I'm your own personal wet dream."

"S-Shut up...! I…j-just keep it down!" She had to tear her eyes from him and stormed off into her apartment, her heart hammering out her chest. What the hell was that?! Why was she so flustered and attracted to him?! She placed her hand on her chest to steady her unruly heart.

Toji smirked once more as he watched her leave. "Aww, doll face." He calls out to her. "Where are you going? I can fix that anger problem for you. You look like you need a good fucking."

The next few weeks went by extremely fast and before she knew it, it was another weekend again. She did everything in her power to avoid her cocky neighbour. Whenever she left her apartment, she would hear his apartment door opening, causing her to sprint to the elevator and closing it shut as soon as she could.

He went from never being seen to having multiple near run ins with her. In hindsight, it was like he was making an active effort to run into her and she didn't like how it made her feel one bit. She considered herself to be a confident and strong woman who has had her fair share of intimate partners but for some reason, the image of him standing in his naked glory had her all hot, bothered and needy.

Today however, wasn't like those other days. As per usual, she looked through her peephole to make sure that he wasn't out there and when the coast was clear, she made a bolt for the elevators... but fate had other plans in store. Just as the elevator doors began to slide shut behind her, she heard hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway. Before she could react, a hand thrust itself into the narrowing gap, halting the doors' closure. With a sinking feeling, she looked up to find herself face-to-face with the very person she had been trying so hard to avoid – her arrogant neighbour, his trademark smirk firmly in place as he stepped into the elevator

She could already feel his eyes undressing her so openly. What is it with him today? Every time she looks at him, she could feel her heart racing and her body trembling. He was just so attractive, and he knew it...

"Going somewhere, dollface?" Toji smirks, leaning right up against her as they stand in the tiny elevator. He was taller than her, so she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

"None of your business." She made sure to squish herself against the corner that's most furthest away from him, constantly spamming the elevator button to hurry it to the ground floor.

She screamed and fell on top of him when the elevator came to a screeching halt. He grumbled as he lay on the floor with her straddling him...to make things worse, she decided to wear a skirt today. There's no way the elevator just had to malfunction right now and force her ass first on his groin?!

His lips curl into a sly grin as she lands on his lap. Their faces are inches away from each other, her legs wrapped around him, her skirt riding up, giving him a mouthwatering view of her thighs as she's straddling him in the provocative position. He reaches for her hips and holds her tightly in place to prevent her from getting up.

"You've been avoiding me and now look, you're practically handed to me on a silver platter."

He's grinning from ear to ear as she struggled to get free, her ass grinding against his groin. She must really believe that she has control over the situation by the look on her face as she's trying so frantically to make them both stand up. He can't help but continue to hold her in place, his fingers wrapping firmly around her hips. Her face heated up at the realisation of something hard stirring against her thigh.

"W-what is that...?"

She doesn't know why she asked, it's obvious what it was but for some reason she needed verbal confirmation.

He lets out a quiet chuckle as he sees the look on her face. She's embarrassed... and easy to tease.

"What do you think it is?" Toji asks her in response to her question, looking her in the eyes and smirking. His eyes travel up her thighs until they reach her face again.

He leans in close and whispers into her ear, "It grows bigger and harder I look at you, doll face, so stay right where you are."

She felt her whole face heat up at his words, such dirty dirty words but for some reason she savoured them all. He was driving her insane but she loved the way he was looking at her so hungrily, not that she would ever openly admit it to him.

"S-Shut up...!"

"Look at you, struggling to get free like that. Such a tease, sweetheart."

He smirks again and leans in closer. His hand slides up her thigh, slipping under her skirt to grip her thighs tightly, just to let her know that he could move her any way he wants to.

"Do you know how badly I want to rip this skirt off you?”

Toji couldn't help but chuckle at her blush. She was so easy to tease, it was almost too good. He could feel his arousal growing by the second, his fingers gripping her thighs tighter.

She couldn’t say much, or at least she tried to but nothing but a soft moan came out. Toji's lips curved into a sinister smirk as he savoured her awkwardness. He loved seeing her squirm under his gaze, her body betraying her attempts to remain composed. Feeling her obvious lust for him come through, he decided to gently brush his fingers against her panties.

“My, my. Someone is a little slut isn’t she? Look how wet you are, all just from me getting hard.”

She gasped but she couldn’t deny how hot it was being degraded like this, especially when it came from someone as attractive as Toji. A once strong willed and confident woman, putty in his hands. She blushed sweetly and instinctively ground her hips against his fingers.

“M-more…”

Toji's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her request. He had expected her to protest or try to get free, not beg for more. But here she was, willing and begging for him  to touch her and it turned him on even more. He pushed her panties to the side, briefly dipping his finger into her wetness only to use it as a lube to circle her clit.

“Such a dirty little girl begging for me to touch you.”

She threw her head back a little and ground her hips faster, moaning as he touched her.

Toji smirked as he saw the effect he was having on her. He continued to circle her clit, adding two fingers in her knowing that he had complete control over her body. The feeling of power was exhilarating and made him even harder. She was clearly enjoying riding his fingers, fucking them to the pace she liked. As much as he enjoyed watching her face and eagerness, he pulled his fingers out of her and smirked lazily.

“H-hey…” She sounded disappointed, her eyelids heavy from the lust she felt towards him.

Toji couldn't help but chuckle at her response. She was addicted to his touch and didn't even realise it. He loved the way she looked at him, pleading for more with those big, beautiful eyes.  She had hoped it would be more satisfying for her but he was enjoying this too much to rush things.

“Don’t worry doll face, not gonna leave ya hanging. I’m just gonna have a little taste.”

Without a warning, he gripped her hips and sat her down on top of his face, kissing her inner thigh teasingly and flicking her clit occasionally with his tongue.

“Nnnnhh…” She writhed in his grip, wanting to feel more of his tongue on her.

Her reaction only fuelled his desire and he dove in headfirst, tongue darting in and out of her wet folds. He knew she was close, could feel it in the way she bucked against him and the sounds she made.

“Please! I…” She didn’t even know what on earth she was saying or what she was asking, all she knew was that the pleasure she was feeling was so intense that her brain was turning into mush.

"Not yet, doll face. You haven't paid the price for your rudeness yet. I wanna’ hear you use your pretty little voice to beg more." His voice was a low rumble, deep and almost threatening. She was so close but he wanted her to beg, to need him more than anything.

“Pl-please more! Please- wanna’ c-cum..!”

The sound of her pleading, her desperation, was music to his ears. He increased the pace and intensity of his tongue work, flicking her clit relentlessly as he sucked on her sensitive flesh. Toji let out a pleased chuckle as he felt her walls clench around his tongue and the sweet juices of her arousal flood his mouth with a loud moan.

“Good girl… now get on your knees for me.” He slapped her ass and watched as she obeyed his instructions, getting on her knees for him and looking at him with desire on her face.

"So eager to please…" he let out a deep, low growl as he watched her get on her knees for him. The sight of her submission and her desire for him, only fuelled his own lust. Toji smirked down at her, his eyes dark and lustful.

"That's it my little whore, open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me." he purred, reaching down to guide his thick cock to her waiting mouth.

"Good girl," he groaned, his voice dripping with approval as parted her lips eagerly, her tongue darting out to taste him. He could feel her desire radiating off of her as she took his head in her mouth, gently sucking on his tip. He gripped her hair roughly and slid his cock into her mouth with a hiss.

"That's it, take it all. My hard cock, my taste, everything you can get." His voice was thick with lust and command, his hips thrusting forward into her eager mouth.

Toji groaned in pleasure as she eagerly took his cock into her mouth, her throat muscles flexing to accommodate his size and length. He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back and forth, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Good fucking slut…that’s it, you looks so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

He pulled her hair hard, pushing himself deeper into her willing mouth, his hips pumping hard and fast. He could feel the tension building within him, hearing the sounds of her gags as she took him deeper.

“Fuck I’m close… take it slut! All of it!”

He pushed her head into his cock and thrust a couple of times as he came down her throat with a moan of her name. She swallowed every single drop, opening her empty mouth to show that she swallowed all of it.

"That’s my good girl. I’m not finished with you yet." He growled, yanking her up by her wrist and pushed her against the elevator walls.

“I’m gonna’ fuck the attitude out of you and you’re going to take it, understood?”

She bit down on her lip and blushed, nodding not trusting herself to speak.

"Good," he smirked, his voice needy and husky. He reached up to cup her face, his thumb tracing over her lips as he leaned down to kiss her passionately. His hands wasted no time, ripping her shirt open only to realise that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Naughty little slut.” He mumbled against her lips and took in her nipple in his mouth, tugging at it gently with his teeth, eliciting a sweet moan from her.

Toji pulled back, grinning wickedly as he saw the desire in her eyes. He pressed his hard length against her wet folds, feeling her shudder with anticipation. Without warning, he thrust deep into her, filling her completely.

“F-Fuck!” She moaned, clinging onto his back, “T-Too big…!”

“Gonna’ make sure you don’t talk back to me ever again. Every time you see me, I want you to beg for me to fuck you.” Toji growled low in his throat, his eyes burning with lust as he watched her face contort in pleasure. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back in again, harder than before.

She let out a pleasure filled scream and dug her nails into his back, clenching her eyes shut.

Toji groaned, his hips pounding harder and faster, driving into her tightness with relentless force. He bit down on her neck, sucking at the delicate skin, as he lost himself in the sensation of claiming her body.

"Fuck, you like that? Who knew my uptight little neighbour was such a slut for my cock?" Toji growled, his hips slamming against hers in a brutal rhythm. He nipped at her earlobe briefly before whispering, "You belong to me now."

She moaned in response, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she clung on to him desperately.

He grinned, the corners of his mouth curling up in a wicked smirk. "That's it baby, just look pretty and take it." he spat as he plunged deeper into her wetness, hitting her sweet spot over and over again.

He bit down on her shoulder hard enough to leave a mark as he continued his rapid thrusts inside of her, taking her like he needed her to exist, “Pussy s’good, I wanna’ fuck it every day. Will you let me baby?”

She nodded her fucked out face looking at him briefly to see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, “Y-Yes! Please…!”

"I'll fuck you whenever I want, and you'll love every second of it."

She nodded again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she felt immense pleasure from the way he moved in her. He growled in satisfaction, his hips pounding harder as he felt her tightness clenching around him.

"That's it, cry for me, beg me to fuck you harder."

She begged him over and over again, chanting his name like it was her life force.

He laughed breathlessly, “What’s the matter? No longer calling me an asshole now are ya? Did ya just need a good fucking, doll face?”

Toji felt her wrap her legs around him as he fucked her against the wall, feeling her close to her peak, he pounded into her faster, “You gonna’ come for me sweetheart?”

She nodded desperately. “Y-yes, feel s’goooood…!”

Toji growled in satisfaction as he felt her body tremble and convulse in orgasmic bliss. He continued to pound into her, relishing in her helpless moans and cries of pleasure.

"That's it, let go for me, princess."

She writhed against him as she unravelled, “T-Toji!”

He felt himself close to his own release, he chased her pleasure with his own, “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked panting and tucking her hair behind her ear

She whined, feeling overstimulated, “I-Inside me! P-please… needa’ feel you…”

“What a whore… feel my cum pouring into you, feel it fill you up. It's all for you my little slut.”

Toji groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he felt himself release inside her. He buried himself to the hilt and held still for a moment, savouring the feeling of their tangled bodies. His grip on her tightened as he growled out her name in satisfaction.

She panted and clung onto him as he pulled out of her and collapsed against her, his sweat-drenched skin sticking to hers. He pressed his forehead against hers and grinned.

"Will you stop complaining about the noise if I invite you over instead?”

“I’m not going to be one of your weekly conquests.”

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll make sure it’s just you I’m fucking.”

She grinned a little and leaned into kiss him, “Our neighbours are going to hate us.”

He chuckled, his breath hot against her lips. "Let them hate us. As long as you're mine, I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks."

He gave her a quick kiss, his eyes burning with desire. "Now, get dressed and come over to mine for a proper fucking.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 40 of human Bill Cipher, in spite of his fondest hopes, still being stuck in the Mystery Shack:

As much as Gideon wants out of the evil magic game, the survival of his father's used car dealership rides on Gideon's help.

And, relatedly, Bill's started receiving psychic car commercials.

1981

Ford had been in his study for what felt like forever, staring at the pile of papers and numbers on his desk, trying to stop the figures from shifting and swimming before his eyes; when something from behind him lit up the dim room with golden light and he a heard a familiar voice behind his shoulder—

"Heeey, Stanford! You've been having a lot of dreams about tax forms lately, what gives?"

Ford was startled out of his thoughts. He turned around, smiling in relief. "Oh, Bill! Hello." Apparently he was dreaming. Thank goodness. It explained why he couldn't seem to get these forms to make sense. "How long have you been watching me?"

"About twenty years."

"What?"

"About twenty minutes," Bill said. "I wasn't going to bug you tonight, but usually your dreams are a little more adventurous! You're starting to worry me, kid." He disintegrated the tax forms with a gesture and floated down to sit on Ford's desk, like a razor-thin glowing paperweight. It was strange to see him cross his legs. "What's on your subconscious?"

Ford hadn't thought his Muse cared that much about his day-to-day human troubles. It was comforting to know someone was worrying about him—someone so far beyond human potential that maybe Ford didn't have to worry he'd be disappointed to learn Ford was struggling a little. "It's my grant money," he sighed. "I feel like my research into Gravity Falls is nowhere near completion, but that money will only last for so long. It won't be long before I'll need to ask for more funding, and I'll have a hard time convincing anyone if I don't have anything to show for it, but I don't want to share incomplete research..."

"Ah, money. The second-worst curse human society's ever inflicted on itself."

"What's the worst one?"

"Marriage."

Ford barked a laugh. It wasn't even that funny a joke; it was just such unexpectedly human cynicism for such an otherworldly entity. It sounded like a joke Ford's dad would make.

"Well, money. What to do..." Bill drummed his fingers on Ford's desk, gazing off into the distance as he thought. Ford realized that, at some point while he was distracted, most of his study had vanished, leaving his desk and chair sitting precariously atop a faint gridded plane in the starry blue void where he usually met Bill. Finally, Bill said, "Have you considered buying gold?"

He hadn't. "Will it help?"

"Sure it will! Eventually!"

"In time to help pay my mortgage?"

"Hmm." Bill thought a moment longer, then snapped his fingers. "Got an idea." He floated off of Ford's desk to eye level, strange sigils appearing in white-blue light around him. "Do you happen to know where the people who decide your funding live?"

"Er... the general area." It had to be near the Backupsmore campus, didn't it?

"Then I might be able to help you!" The symbols solidified around Bill. "I know a little spell to help persuade people. It'll let you plant ideas in their dreams—give 'em a little subliminal nudge. It could make some bigwigs come around on the importance of the research you're doing out here."

A fascinating concept. Ford studied the sigils greedily. He didn't recognize them, but they looked fairly simple. "You're not... talking about mind control?"

"Nah, that's not in my wheelhouse. It'll just let you... talk to them! Like I talk to you! I'm not controlling you, am I?" His eye curved up in a facsimile of a smile. "But you'll find most people have a harder time ignoring you when you're talking to them inside their own heads. What they do with that when they wake up is up to them. Just think of it as a way to schedule an interview where you'll have their undivided attention."

Ford pressed his lips together as he thought; then shook his head. "Thank you, Bill, but no. I wouldn't feel right earning money that way. I'd rather know they were impressed by the scientific and historical value of my work—and if I use magic, I'll never know for sure if they really thought my work measured up."

Bill laughed. "That's what I like about you, Stanford! You really shoot for the stars—and you've got the work ethic to get there! You don't want the fame and fortune unless you earn it!"

Ford was momentarily taken aback. It was rare that his muse openly complimented him; on most nights he dealt with Ford with a sort of cool, detached fondness, something a little too distant to be real affection. When he did voice his approval, it was like the sun coming out after a month of cloud cover. There were nights, when Ford was really feeling his isolation in these woods and he'd half convinced himself all his years of research had been a waste of time, when he was half willing to chase that sunshine to the ends of the earth.

"You'll do whatever it takes to finish your research, won't you?" Bill asked.

Ford gave Bill an awkward, self-conscious smile. "Of course I will. How could I not?"

"Hey, not everyone has your ambition! Most people take the easy way to the top. Cheating, copying, riding on greater men's coattails... Some guys earn the dough to buy their gold, others just want to dig for someone else's." Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Well, it was an idea." The sigils started to fade.

Ford raised a hand. "Hold on. I don't want to use it, but... do you think I could learn that spell anyway?" He smiled hopefully. "For research?"

"For fun?"

"For fun."

Bill laughed. "I was waiting for you to ask!" The sigils reappeared, and next to them appeared an incantation. "All right, I'll walk you through it. Pay attention, I don't think you've got enough time to go over it twice this REM cycle."

Ford nodded, focusing fully on Bill, determined to remember the spell well enough to record it in Journal 2 when he woke up.

####

Spring, 2013

Tentatively, Bud Gleeful said, "Son... now, I know you lost that spooky grimoire of yours. But... don't you have anything left that might help out the dealership?"

Gideon growled in irritation. "I told you, father! Everything I knew was in Journal 2! It's gone! Anyway, I'm just trying to be a normal kid now. I don't want to get mixed up in any more magic. I'm through with it."

"I understand," Bud said, nodding. "And I think that's mighty admirable of you, turning over a new leaf like that. Shows real maturity." He hesitated, wringing his hands together. He pre-emptively winced and said, "But it's just that... business hasn't exactly been booming, ever since your little tenure as Bill's sheriff. And you know I love the fellas you made friends with in the penitentiary, they're all such... colorful characters; but having them hang around does make folks a little wary to drive into the parking lot..."

Volume doubling, Gideon snapped, "Are you saying it's my fault?!"

"No, son, no. You know I'd never." Bud knelt down, and—cautiously, like he was trying to pet a feral cat—put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. "But, well... business is slumping, that's all. We'll be fine as long as we live within our means, don't you worry about that—but our means might not cover luxuries like those fancy suits and fine new boots you like so much, you understand."

Gideon lowered his gaze, tugging self-consciously on the sleeve of his favorite suit jacket. It was already just a little too short to be fashionable; he probably didn't have long until he outgrew it completely.

"Your mother and I are doing all we can," Bud said. "If there's anything you can do... well, you don't have to, of course. But—it'd be a mighty big help."

Gideon grit his teeth, glaring at his feet. (How long until he outgrew all his shoes? He had a growth spurt coming "any day now," he'd been told. The prospect didn't excite him.) He balled his hands into fists; and then muttered, "There... might be one spell I remember... the sigils were pretty simple..."

####

June 2013

Bill could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for his mother to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'd see the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" His mother howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room. She didn't bend up. He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured. He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, and he couldn't remember.

At least, he couldn't have remembered a few weeks ago. He hadn't wanted to. But he'd been studying a book on lucid dreaming since then; and the first things it taught was how to remember more of his dreams. And now, he recalled exactly what happened next when he pushed his mother and she splintered and ruptured:

He pushed harder.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

"You want me to tell everyone the third dimension's full of dead shapes?! Huh?!" All he could see was blood and bone and peeling skin. "Then why don't you go find them for me!" He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.

Her hand grabbed weakly at his.

He let go and jolted back, gasping—and almost retched. What had he done? He hadn't meant to. But he'd kept pushing—but it was too late by then. It was too late by then, wasn't it?

"What have you done?"

Bill whirled around to face— "Dad?"

The green trapezoid looked as sick as Bill felt, eye darting in horror across the crumpled line in the corner. He couldn't even see most of it from where he was—his eye didn't work like Bill's, he couldn't look through the mess of skin to the gore beneath.

"It was an accident," Bill whispered. (He'd kept pushing.) "It really was, I promise."

His father tore his eye from the corpse to Bill's face. "What are we going to tell your followers?"

Bill looked past his father. Through a wall so thin Bill almost couldn't see it, hundreds upon hundreds of shapes were settled, waiting—to see him. He was sure: somehow, somehow, they could see him too. They knew what he'd done. His life was over.

A thunderous voice boomed, "Whooee, what a fix! Boy, you look like you could use a getaway car, couldn't you?"

Bill blinked. He blinked again. He looked up-but-not-north.

A human in a pink Hawaiian shirt, standing on top of the universe, looked down at him.

Bill said, "What."

"Here, let me just—getcha right—" The human plunged his hand through the second dimension, scooped beneath Bill, and popped him right up off the surface of the universe. "Now, if you'll pardon my saying so, you look like you could use a little help getting somewhere far, far away from here!"

Bill stared at him. "What."

"And I've got just the thing to help you!" the human declared. "Aren't you feeling stuck? Trapped? Just can't take your obligations anymore? Miserable you can't hit the road and see all of—well—" he gestured vaguely out at the flat surface of the universe stretching into the distance "—whatever this is? Then you need to visit your buddy Bud Gleeful—(that's me)—at Gleeful's Auto Sales, the finest used car dealership in Roadkill County! We'll get you a set of wheels that'll carry you on the cross-country police-evading tour of your dreams!" He dropped his voice and murmured to Bill from behind his hand, "Warranty expires at the state line."

"What." Bill looked down at the universe—and was disappointed but not surprised to see he wasn't a triangle anymore, but a human. He looked at Bud again. "Are you advertising to me. Is this an advertisement. Am I getting advertised to in my sleep."

"And if you sign before you leave, we'll throw in a free air freshener," Bud added.

Bill stared at him in horrified amazement. "I am going to kill you," he said. "And then I'm going to wake up and kill you in real life."

"Ah, well. That's a right shame."

####

Bill shot straight up with a roar of rage. "Oh, when I get my hands on...!"

"Whoa. Bad dream?"

Bill whirled around with a murderous glare. Dipper's spirit, ghastly and pale, was hovering in the middle of the attic. Bill snapped, "You're a bad dream!" He scrambled after the spirit.

"Whoa! Hey!" Dipper tried to swoop away from Bill toward the stairs.

Bill caught him by the back of the neck. "You are going back in your bo—bed, you're getting in, and you're not getting back out."

"Ow, let go!" Dipper squirmed in Bill's grip, kicking his feet in the air. "I was just going to turn off the TV! I heard it playing an advertisement, I think that's what put me in... you know." He gestured at himself. "The sleepwalking dream."

Bill hesitated in front of the kids' door. "What advertisement?"

"I don't know, it was too far away to tell. But I know it was an advertisement, it sounded... advertise-y."

"Hmm." Bill considered that. And then he flung Dipper's soul through the door.

"HEY!"

"I'll turn off the TV," Bill said. "Go back to sleep!"

Ugh. Everything ached, his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out in an attempt to escape and go forage for food independently, and the world held a vindictive grudge against Bill personally. He trudged downstairs, muttering crabbily to himself.

He wasn't surprised to discover the TV was off.

####

"I'm conducting a survey," Bill said. "Did you hear any advertisements from the TV last night? Maybe have any dreams that might have been influenced by hearing an ad?"

"Uh..." Soos slowed at the bottom of the stairs as he thought. "Nope. Slept like a baby all night."

"Interesting." He waved at Melody to try to catch her attention. "Hey, how about you?"

"Nope!" Already dressed for work, she hurried from the stairs to the living room without even glancing Bill's way. She tended not to linger when he was nearby. He told himself he was flattered.

"Dude," Soos said, "What happened to your arm?"

Bill looked down. On the underside of his forearm were two thick lines set at an angle, burned so dark brown they were nearly black. "Leaned on the stove after someone used the burner. Oops."

"Do you need...?"

"Don't worry about it, it's already healing." Bill rolled down his hoodie's sleeves as he leaned into the kitchen, "How 'bout you, Stan? Hear any phantom ads last night?"

"Nuh-uh. But I sleep with my hearing aids out," Stan said. "The only things loud and grating enough to wake me are a car horn or your voice."

"Ha!" Bill looked from Stan's side of the table to Ford's—and Ford wasn't facing him, but he was glancing from the corner of his eye toward Bill's arms.

Bill turned away without asking anything. No point. Obviously, Ford had been too far underground to have picked up anything. Bill told himself Ford was seething at getting the cold shoulder.

"What're we talking about?" Mabel asked, coming downstairs with Dipper close behind.

Bill looked at her—and then let his gaze sweep past her with the same cold disinterest he'd favored Ford with. He brushed past her to head upstairs. "Hey, somnambulist." He shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes as he passed. "TV was off. No one else heard anything. You dreamed your stupid ad."

"Hey." Dipper pulled his hat back up. "Jerk."

Mabel called, "Bill?"

He ignored her and kept walking.

####

"What was that all about?"

Bill was curled up in the attic window seat, flipping covetously through an issue of Gold Chains For Old Men; at the sound of Mabel's irritated voice, he merely said, "Oh, hello." He turned another page. "Here to try to make a fool of me some more?"

She planted her hands on her hips. "Bill, what are you talking about?"

"Tell me about those 'Mysteries' of yours. Did you plan your story any deeper than that? Were you going to arrange for me to catch you with a cloak and dagger just to make me wonder?"

Mabel paused. "Oh." She laughed weakly.

"So how many people were in on it, huh? Was it just you and Stanford, or did you have the whole house laughing at me behind my back?"

"It—it was just us two." She leaned on the wall by Bill's feet. "Um, so... are you actually mad?"

He shot her a venomous look, then lifted his magazine so he couldn't see her any more.

"Come on!" She poked his knee. "It was a harmless prank! And you lie to everyone all the time."

"No I don't."

"You're so sensitive."

"I am not," Bill said indignantly. "I'm proud. I have pride. And lately pride's about the only thing I have going for me. And I didn't think a friend would try to undermine it."

Mabel heaved a sigh. "Okay, all right. Sorry."

Bill lowered his magazine to peer at her skeptically. "Are you really?"

"Well, yeah." She leaned against the window seat. "It was just a joke, I don't wanna hurt your feelings."

He stared her down a moment longer, assessing her sincerity. And then he sat up and pulled her into a hug.

She squawked in surprise, but returned the embrace. "Bill! What—?"

"You're sweet, you know that, star girl?" He gave her one last squeeze and let her go. "When you aren't trying to make me look dumb. But you don't rub salt in the wounds, that's what matters."

"Pfff. I kinda think you'd try to kill me if I did."

"Mmyeah, I might." He wouldn't. Only person in this entire dull rotten world who was willing to apologize for wronging him. He wasn't giving her up easily. "Hey—did you happen to hear any commercials last night? Maybe have any dreams that might've been caused by one?"

"Nope! I had a dream about cats fighting a war against an octopus."

"Oh, that one. Did the octopus win or did the lions show up in time?"

Mabel paused. "It's always creepy when you do that. But the octopus won this time."

"Aww. That poor picturesque beach town."

"I tried to get between the octopus and the town when the cats failed."

"Did you stop it?"

Mabel shrugged. "Dunno. I woke up before it reached me."

"Too bad! But hey—you've been making big progress with your lucid dreaming. You'll get it next time!" No salesmen offering cars as war chariots for the cats, though. It was almost a pity. Bill would've liked to hear about Bud getting eaten by a giant octopus.

"So I guess Dipper was the only one who thought he heard a commercial."

Dipper and Bill. "Guess so."

####

The large, empty floor room, down the main hallway at the far end of the house, was among the few places Bill was allowed to go. Except when the humans had some big event like a dance or a museum exhibit planned, there was nothing in it but a flat old sofa, a fireplace he couldn't turn on, and Soos's electric piano taunting him. In spite of its relative isolation from the rest of the household, Bill rarely had reason to visit it.

But when he wanted space to pace and think, there was no better room.

Last night's advertisement was magic, no doubt. And he suspected he knew the exact spell. The Mystery Shack was way on the outskirts of Gravity Falls; probably nobody else here was affected because they were just out of range of the signal. The only reason Dipper had nearly picked it up was because he didn't have his thick skull in the way when his spirit was out of his body.

But Bill's psychic abilities had been heavily suppressed since he was put in this body. How was he channeling the signal so much more clearly than anyone else?

He thoughtfully ran his tongue over his new golden tooth. "Hmm."

####

Bud entered the Gleeful house flipping through a pile of mail. "Junk, junk, bills, junk... Here's your subscription, honeybunch." He held out an issue of Nervous Wrecks Weekly magazine. His wife paused her cycle of polishing the front window to stiffly take it.

"Junk, coupons... Gideon! You've got a fan letter!" He checked for a stamp indicating the tiny envelope had passed through a state correctional facility. "And it isn't even from the prison, isn't that nice!"

"Coming!" Gideon ran out of his room, snatched the letter from Bud's hand with a little grunt, ran back to his room giggling, and slammed the door.

Bud chuckled. "Joy, sweetie, you remember when that boy got so much fanmail he used to throw it out? These days he's excited for every single letter." The corners of his mouth turned down. "Suppose it's good for him, learning to appreciate the little things."

"Mhm." She looked down at the roses outside the window. She'd need to trim those soon. "I suppose it is."

In his room, Gideon studied the odd envelope. It was tiny—barely large enough for the address and the stamp, no return address—and when he turned it over he discovered lines of text printed on the paper. The flap was tucked carefully into a fold in the envelope that held it tight.

As he pulled out the flap, he realized that the envelope wasn't held together with glue; it was some sort of cleverly-folded origami craft that began to unfold in his hands as he pulled out the flap. The letter was written on the inside of the envelope. "Why—what a delightful little creation!" He sat at his dressing table to focus on unfolding the letter, careful not to damage it so he could re-fold it later.

Once he'd smoothed it out, he could see that the paper was carefully torn from a book. The outside of the envelope was made from the last page of a chapter, with only a few lines of text at the top of the page and the rest left conveniently blank. It talked about telling the difference between waking and dreaming.

He turned the page over to read the letter.

GIDEON–

IT'S ADORABLE THAT YOU'RE USING A DREAM COUNTERFEITING SPELL FOR CAPITALISM! I BET YOUR PARENTS ARE PROUD! HOWEVER, MY FILLINGS ARE PICKING UP AUTO DEALERSHIP ADS ALL NIGHT. IT'S REALLY ANNOYING. CUT IT OUT.

In place of a signature, there was a triangle with an eye.

Gideon's blood ran cold.

He read the letter again, then studied the words themselves. He didn't recognize the tall, thin, crooked handwriting. He flipped over the envelope. No return address. He noticed for the first time that the letter wasn't addressed to "Gideon". It said "STAR BOY". Fan mail. Right.

The postmark was from Gravity Falls.

"It can't be Bill," Gideon muttered to himself. "Bill's dead. It's got to be some prankster with a twisted sense of humor..."

But then, how could some prankster know he was doing dream magic? Did anyone else even know that Bill had called him "Star Boy"?

No. It had to be a prankster. If Bill were alive, he'd be doing much worse than sending letters and complaining about fillings.

He crumpled up the letter and threw it away. His father's business needed Gideon to do whatever he could to help. Gideon's own financial future depended on it. He wasn't about to let some prankster stop him.

####

There was a rumble of several motorcycles and a revving car engine outside the Gleeful house, disturbing the late evening still. Gideon came in the front door wearing a little backpack, waving behind himself as he came in. "Thanks for the ride, Ghost-Eyes! Good talk today! I'll see y'all this weekend for brunch!" He shut the door as the engines receded into the distance.

"Welcome home, son," Bud said from the couch. "How were the ex-convicts this week?"

"Oh, great, just great. Graybeard's daughter is gonna let him meet his grandson and Spiderwebs got a new job."

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I know you were real concerned for Spiderwebs."

"I shouldn't have worried! He got work at an alpaca ranch on the other side of town, did you know there's an alpaca ranch 'round here?"

"Can't say I did!"

"I think it's a good fit for him. Being out in nature calms him down."

An uneasy silence fell over the room as they waited a polite amount of time to change the topic. In the kitchen, Joy cleaned the same dish for the third time.

Bud cleared his throat. "Well, uh—you know, it's been a couple of days since we've run a 'nighttime ad.' Do you think it's a good time to...?"

Gideon squeezed his backpack's straps. He could still see that spindly text reading "STAR BOY". "Do you think? I don't want to put 'em too close together, folks might notice..."

Bud grimaced. "It can't hurt. It's been almost two weeks since I sold a car."

Gideon scowled. But he nodded. "Yeah, all right. I'll go set up."

"You know how much your mother and I appreciate it," Bud said. "I'll go heat up dinner."

Gideon went to his room, tossed his backpack on his bed, rolled out the tarp on which he'd drawn the circle and sigils in permanent marker, and set up the candlesticks and candles around the perimeter. His father called him to dinner; they watched an evening talk show; and after a little more dawdling, they figured it was late enough that most folks would be asleep, and went to Gideon's room to get to work.

As Bud awkwardly lowered himself to sit in the circle and Gideon lit the candles, Gideon asked, "Father, do you ever... remember who you talk to? I mean, whose dreams you're in?"

Bud considered that, pursing his lips. "No, can't say I do. It's a bit like I'm dreaming myself," he said. "And it's sort of a jumble of a few hundred dreams, too. Like I'm visiting the whole town at once. All I can recall is a blur!"

Gideon frowned. "I see."

"You sure you don't want to be sitting in the circle this time?" Bud asked. "I'd bet if folks saw you in their dreams telling them to buy a car, why, they'd just rush right down."

These days, Gideon wasn't so sure. Sourly, he said, "I don't want to get involved." He'd gotten enough of starring in his father's car commercials when he was younger. He'd thought he'd escaped that completely when he picked up the telepathy act; he didn't relish the thought of using telepathy to star in another car commercial.

"All right, suit yourself. Just keep it in mind." Bud got as comfortable as he could on the floor and shut his eyes.

Gideon took a deep breath and began chanting: "Dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away..."

The flames flickered and turned bright blue. A purplish shimmery light surrounded Bud; and as Gideon kept chanting, the light expanded to the edge of the circle and beyond, creeping across the floor, over the bed—

A shrill wail filled the room. They both started, losing their concentration. The wail persisted several seconds before it resolved into a eardrum-bursting roar of words: "HI I'M SCOUT YOUNGER AND I'M IN A PICKLE SO YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A NICKEL! I'VE GOT SO MANY CARS I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT 'EM! SO WE'RE GIVING THEM AWAY FOR FIVE CENTS, THAT'S RIGHT FIVE CENTS! SCOUT YOUNGER, I'M A DEALER BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE—"

"Dagnabbit," Bud shouted, "that's the man undermining my no-barter-for-a-quarter deal and getting all my business! He's halfway to Portland—but darn it, his commercials are so catchy!"

"—THAT'S YOUNGER PATRIOT CARS, ON THE NORTH SIDE OF INTERSTATE—" The commercial was cut off with a clap of thunder that made them both jump again.

And before the dying rumbles of the thunder had fully faded, a second voice spoke—a high-pitched, furious shriek that Gideon hadn't heard in nearly a year but instantly recognized: "SEE HOW YOU LIKE GETTING USED CAR ADS SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, YOU LITTLE TWERP. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING!"

There was another crack of thunder; and then nothing.

Nothing but a faint, muffled, mechanical whir coming from Gideon's bed.

Slowly, Bud said, "Is that...?"

Gideon looked under his bed; then on top, tugging over his backpack and unzipping it; and he pulled out a still-running cassette tape player. A complicated sigil was painted on top of the player and stretched over the play button, glowing shimmery purple as though it had absorbed the magic from Gideon's spell.

Bud took the tape player, stopped it, rewound a bit, turned down the volume dial, and hit play: "—your throat in the middle of the night, you little—"

He stopped the tape. He and Gideon looked at each other.

Bud said, "Don't tell your mother."

####

"Third lap!" Dipper crowed as his car zoomed over the line on the digital racetrack. "You'd better catch up fast!"

"Aw, c'mon," Mabel groaned. She tilted her body along with her game controller as she steered her car around a tricky curve, as though that would help her go a little faster. "No fair, I'd be winning if you didn't throw a goose at me—"

"Pff, shut up, you always use the goose."

Bill was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the fish tank—as far as either Dipper or Mabel could tell, having a staring contest with the axolotl—but without breaking eye contact with the tank, he leaned over to elbow Dipper's knee. "Hey kid. Go left."

"What? No, shut up." Dipper tried to kick Bill's arm away.

"Go left. Trust me, it's a hidden shortcut."

"No! You're not even watching."

"I'm psychic. Go left."

"No." Dipper jerked his car to the right. It drove off the track and landed in quicksand. "Aw, man—"

"YES!" Mabel sailed past him. A fanfare played as she crossed the finish line. "The winner! Woo-woooo!"

Bill beamed as Dipper glared at the side of his face.

Somebody knocked on the door—and kept knocking, frantically hammering for attention. Dipper and Mabel looked over.

Bill glanced over, rolled his eyes, said, "You don't want to answer that," and looked back at the fish tank.

Dipper glared at him again, stood, and went to answer the door, Mabel close behind. "Hel— Gideon?"

"Told you," Bill muttered.

Gideon was sweating, panting, and wild-eyed with panic. "Mabel! Dipper!" He paused to give Mabel a sweet smile. "Hi Mabel~♡" And straight back to panic. "We've got a problem! I know y'all don't want me 'round here, but—but this is an emergency!"

Dipper glanced at Mabel. She sighed, but reluctantly stepped back to let Gideon in. "All right. What is it?"

"I know I sound insane, but—but you have to trust me," Gideon said. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Bill Cipher's back! I'm sure it's Bill, it can't be anyone else, he... he knows things only somebody with his powers could know!" He paced anxiously in front of the twins, "He's been sending me threatening mail and harassing me and—and I don't know what he's up to, but we've got to find him and stop him! You've gotta help me!" He grabbed Dipper's arms. "I think he might be trying to kill my family!"

Dipper and Mabel turned to glare at Bill.

He was determinedly studying the fish tank.

"Hey, Goldie," Dipper snapped.

Bill glanced over with an expression of mild interest. "Hm?"

"Gideon here says that Bill's been harassing him," Dipper said. "What do you think about that."

"Oh wow," Bill said, extremely unconvincingly. "That's so crazy. I can't even believe it."

Gideon's anxious gaze darted past Dipper and Mabel. "Who's...?" He thought he remembered seeing that stranger around Wendy.

Dipper stepped between their line of sight. "Thanks, Gideon. We'll handle this... problem."

The stranger got to his feet and sauntered to the entryway. "Hey Gideon. Just out of curiosity, what were y—"

Mabel cut in, "Bye, Gideon!" She tried to push him toward the door. "We'll see you later!"

The stranger leaned over Gideon, planting a hand on the doorframe. "—what were you doing that got on Bill's nerves so much, I wonder—"

"Shhh!" Mabel tried to push Bill away.

Had Gideon not heard the voice so recently, he might not have noticed anything odd about the stranger in front of him. But as it was, a chill instantly ran up his spine. He slowly looked up. The menacing smile was unfamiliar, but the eye... something was wrong with that eye. The longer he stared into it, the more he could see the cruel, mad, golden inhumanity.

Gideon squealed in terror and bolted out the door. 

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "Seriously?"

Mabel chased after him. "Gideon! Gideon wait!" She caught up with him rounding in front of the gift shop and had to tackle him into the dirt.

"Get offa me! You're working for him, you traitor—"

"Gideon, listen! We're not working for him, he's our prisoner!"

"Oh." Gideon stopped struggling. "Well, that's a different kettle of corn, isn't it."

Mabel sighed in relief. She backed off Gideon, but had to hold his ankle to make sure he wouldn't bolt again. "Okay, look. We don't know how, but Bill's stuck in a human body, and he's got no powers."

"How do y'all know he isn't faking it?"

"Because he tried to kill us and we beat him up." She winced. "We've... kind of beat him up a lot."

Gideon nodded. "O... okay."

"But you can't tell anybody," Mabel said. "If there's an angry mob or something and he gets executed, the real Bill might hatch from his body like an egg and he'll take over the town again!"

Gideon shuddered. He could almost still feel ache in his legs and the blisters on his feet under the adorable sparkly pink shoes.

"So he's fine here with us. We've got everything under control, he's not dangerous like this—" Mabel turned around to shout, "—and HE SHOULDN'T BE SENDING THREATENING LETTERS, BILL."

Bill's voice drifted from around the corner of the house: "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"

Dipper said, "What did Gideon do to warrant that, anyway?"

Bill glowered into the distance. "He knows what he did."

"Okay, I-I won't tell anyone. I promise." Pitifully, Gideon asked, "Can I go home now?"

"Yeah, you can go home now." Mabel let him go. He got up and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.

####

They reconvened in the living room. Dipper and Mabel stood in front of Bill, glaring. Bill sat on the sofa, smiling innocently.

"Bill," Mabel said. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh, yeah?" Lots of people thought he should be ashamed of himself, but not many had the guts to say so.

"Bullying Gideon like that!"

"I have an excuse," Bill said. "I've been crabby this week. Body made me crabby. Some kind of human neurotransmitter imbalance. I didn't sign up to have neurotransmitters, it's completely out of my hands."

"That's not an excuse," Dipper said.

"Plus, you're an entire adult thing!" Mabel said. "You're picking on a little kid! He's like, eleven!"

"So? There's not a lot of difference between eleven and a hundred eleven when you're a million million years old."

"Then maybe you're too old to bully anybody."

Bill blinked in mild surprise. "Huh."

Dipper said, "Plus, you're gonna blow your cover and get everyone in trouble!"

Bill shrugged. "He can't prove anything! Anyone could have sent a letter pretending to be me."

Mabel asked, "How did you send a letter, anyway?"

####

"Hey, Soos," Mabel yelled, "Can you send a letter for me?"

"Sure thing, hambone! Just stick it on the pile in the kitchen."

Mabel licked a stamp, haphazardly slapped it on the envelope to her parents, tossed it on the other mail, and ran back upstairs.

Bill crept into the kitchen, peeled the stamp off Mabel's envelope before it dried, stuck it on his tiny origami letter, and stuffed them both into the middle of the mail pile. "Sorry, kid," he muttered. "You'll just have to resend this one."

####

"I have my ways," Bill said.

"And how did you 'harass' Gideon?" Dipper asked. "What could you possibly do from in here to harass him?"

####

Bill sat on the sofa in the floor room with Mabel's boombox radio on the floor, a cassette tape player/recorder he'd salvaged from the museum held up to the speaker with his thumb hovering over the record button, his other hand hovering over the key with the thunder sound effect on Soos's keyboard, an air horn between his knees, and a nearly-dead marker he'd fished out of Mabel's trash and revitalized with rubbing alcohol waiting next to him for drawing a magic-activated sigil. He glared at the boombox as the local radio station played an advertisement for air conditioning installation. "Come on," he muttered at the boombox. "Play the stupid car commercial."

The next ad started. "Bargain alert, bargain alert! I've got more used cars than I know what to do with! Hi, I'm Scout—"

"Yes," Bill hissed. He hit the record button, squeezed the air horn between his knees, held the tape recorder up to the boombox until the end of the commercial, kicked the boombox's power button, quickly held the tape recorder up to the piano, and triumphantly hit the key that produced the sound of a flushing toilet.

"NO!" He kicked the electric piano's leg, flung the tape recorder to the other end of the sofa, and flopped face down on the cushions. After permitting himself a moment of grief at the injustice of it all, he dragged over the tape recorder, stopped it, rewound it back to the start, hit the lightning key several times to make sure he had it, and then set up again to wait for the next time the car commercial played.

####

"Hey Wendy, could you get this door for me?"

Wendy gave Bill a puzzled look. "That's the wrong hallway. Rainbow Club's down that one." She pointed at the door across the room.

"I know, I'm just looking for the restroom! I need to dooo... girl hygiene things?"

Wendy looked at the tape player-shaped lump under Bill's shirt, looked at his face, and raised her brow.

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna prank Lil Gideon."

Wendy opened the door, leaned through, and opened a second door to a coat closet. "Good luck. We're all counting on you."

Bill saluted her, and rummaged through the leather biker jackets in search of Gideon's little backpack.

####

"You've got no idea what kind of dark powers I still have at my disposal," Bill boasted, leaning back and lacing his hands behind his head.

Dipper turned to Mabel. "Yeah, he's got nothing. He probably bribed a tourist to call Gideon's house or something."

Bill scowled, but didn't dignify Dipper with a response. "Anyway, the game's over now that Gideon knows where I am. I won't do it again."

Dipper scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Why should we trust you?"

"Because," Bill said calmly, "if I do it again, you'll have to tell your uncles, and I'll be in serious trouble. So I won't... and therefore, you won't. Right?"

Dipper frowned, but looked at Mabel. Mabel was considering Bill with her hands on her hips. She prompted, "Aaand...?"

It took Bill a moment to figure out what she was aiming for. "And I've realized I was mean and I'm very remorseful for my hurtful actions."

Mabel pointed at him. "That's what I wanna hear!" She looked at Dipper. "I think we can let him off with a warning."

Dipper shook his head in resignation.

Mabel said, "But you're not stopping there, Bill."

"How's that?"

"Come on, man, think!" She poked her finger against her temple. "You know the answer! We just watched this episode yesterday!"

"Episode?" Dipper asked.

"I've been using Color Critters to teach him social skills."

Bill said, "I have social skills, all you're doing is showing me what'll be on the test."

"That's how learning works, dummy! I wanna hear you regurgitate that textbook answer!"

Bill opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and pantomimed sticking his finger down his throat and gagging; but then he said, with a blatantly artificial chipper tone, "'If we hurt our friends, we should try to find a way to make it up to them and make sure it can't happen again.'" 

"That's right! 98 points! I'm taking two off for attitude."

"So how do you expect me to make it up to him? I can't exactly un-send him a letter. Unless you're gonna loan me that time tape—"

"Stop asking for the time tape," Dipper said, "it'll never happen."

Bill shrugged. "Then what do you suggest."

"Figure it out yourself," Mabel said. "You're the one who's gotta make it up to Gideon, not us."

Bill rolled his eye. "Is this part of the terms to buy your silence?"

"Yeah, it is."

"All right, fine." Bill sighed and stood up. "Give me a bit to brainstorm. I'll be upstairs." He meandered out of the room.

Mabel called after him, "You better not think you're wiggling out of this!"

"Relax! I won't disappoint you, Shooting Star. Promise."

Once he was out of earshot, Dipper turned to Mabel. "How do you expect him to make it up to Gideon?"

"He should say 'sorry.'"

Dipper nodded. Okay, sure, that sounded reasonable. "How long do you think it'll take for him to think of apologizing?"

"I'd give it a couple of hours."

####

(If you recognize the dealership being parodied, we now share a warrior's bond. Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, I've been looking forward to introducing Gideon for a long time! As always, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts and comments on the chapter!)

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BONES AND ALL *  assorted dialogue from the 2022 film, adjust as necessary

you didn't tell me you play piano.

how would i even get there?

you said you wanted to make more friends here.

do you think it'll rain tonight?

i crawled out a window.

we're the lost girls then.

so you can't spend the night?

we're trying to talk.

i'm taking you to the bookstore.

are we ever gonna talk about... what i did?

no. that's never gonna happen.

i've been looking forward to this day. for a long time.

you aren't going to see me again. i can't help you anymore.

i've gotta leave you to figure it out for yourself.

i don't know how much of what i'm about to say you remember. maybe you honestly don't.

shouldn't you be in school?

that was the last time i used our real last name.

you got clever. so fucking clever.

is there a place to get something to eat?

i'll just wait here if it's okay.

i didn't mean to scare you.

i was looking for you. maybe that sounds weird to you... or maybe it doesn't.

do i know you?

i smelled you, and you probably smell me now.

through the back. we'll talk inside.

you won't always be able to hold yourself back.

there's a reason you're on your own.

i'm not a thief.

did someone find you? while you were doing it?

what if i don't want that?

you don't have to be alone.

you're out of control.

what happens? you think something bad's gonna happen?

i didn't know i could do that.

why does that matter?

i'm just saying i'm not an asshole.

you wanna get in? for a minute?

i don't know whether to cry or scream or laugh or what.

can you help me? i just... i'm new at this.

i'm gonna take a shower.

we need what we need, right?

open the fucking door!

let's make like a tom and cruise.

you seemed like such a hardcase yesterday.

that's a choice. we don't have to be like that.

why'd you offer to bring me along?

do you get home often?

there are hypocrites everywhere.

i didn't run away.

i'm not trying to start anything. i'm just saying what i think.

take whatever you want.

fucking asshole. you said you were going to stick around this time.

you're the only person i miss.

are we not safe right now?

what was your first time like?

i don't remember much after.

we shouldn't be talking about killing anybody.

i don't want this to touch us.

i'll see you in an hour.

i can't protect you anymore.

you've got blood on you.

we ruin lives we don't even see.

why are we even talking about it like this?

we should feel something. we've killed and it's murder.

how dare you make this harder.

you've got nothing to be sorry for.

i hope you can respect that.

all i ever wanted in this world was love.

the world of love wants no monsters in it.

you don't have to say anything else, but tell me if you're okay.

i'm just not comfortable with this.

you protected the people you love.

you don't think i'm a bad person?

all i think is that i love you.

i used to tell people the truth, you know.

i was going to turn myself in.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Dinosaur

————————————————————————-

Summary: You make the mistake of helping Joe make a TikTok account.

Warnings: None, pure silliness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

February 15, 2024

Out of nowhere, Joe plopped down next to me on the couch and put his phone on my lap.

“Can I help you?” - you

“Yes, actually!” - Joe pointed to his phone

I looked down at his phone to see that it was the TikTok log-in or sign-up page that pops up when you first download the app.

“What?” - you

“Can you help me make an account? My dinosaur ass can't figure it out, but I wanna follow you and see the videos you post. Ja’Marr was talking about the videos you posted of me and you for Valentine’s yesterday, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I wanna be able to see your posts.” - Joe

“Why? So you can approve of them?” - you

“No, nothing like that! I like watching the videos you make of us, and I think they're cute. Plus, I rarely ever get to see the finished prank videos. Please help me?” - Joe

I thought his reasoning was adorable, so I happily helped him.

“Do you want it to be an official account or incognito?” - you

“Incognito.” - Joe

Nodding, I handed him his phone so he could type a username in.

I was absentmindedly staring off when I heard Joe giggle.

“What?” - you smiled

He handed me his phone, and I playfully rolled my eyes at the username he typed out.

Simp4Y/N_B

“You're a dork.” - you laughed

“I mean, I am making the account to watch your videos, so it's kinda fitting.” - Joe grinned

After getting the rest of the account setup process completed, Joe made me type my username in the search so he could follow me.

“Wanna follow anyone else? The team you play for, maybe?” - you

“Nope. This is all I wanted.” - Joe

——

You had no idea what a mistake that would be, and you were dealing with the consequences.

It wasn't even the next day yet, and Joe had blown your phone up, mass-liking every video you've ever posted.

Then he found the AI Spongebob singing videos…

“Joseph Lee, send me one more TikTok, and I'm going to block you.” - you

“Watch the last one I sent!” - Joe

“No!” - you

“It's Patrick singing Billie Jean!” - Joe

We were lying in bed, or at least I was, but my phone continuously vibrated on the nightstand, and Joe laughing kept me from sleeping.

“Go to sleep.” - you

Joe rolled over and laid his head on my shoulder, his hand propping up his phone on my chest to show me the video.

Like he hadn't already watched it ten times, Joe couldn't stop laughing.

“I'm gonna shove you off of this bed.” - you

——

Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did. They damn did.

Joe found Jett and Campbell. (IYKYK)

Now he randomly calls me Pookie as a joke, but with way too serious of an expression for my liking.

He'd gone to pick up my online pickup order from the store for me, and when Joe called me to tell me he had received my order, he greeted me in a way that made me want to hang up.

“Hey, baby.” - you

“Hey, Pookie. I got your order and am almost home.” - Joe

A few seconds of silence went by till I spoke up.

“Call me that again and I'll file for divorce.” - you

“You wouldn't do that, you love me too much... right?” - Joe

“I would never even think of it. I was just kidding, Joey.” - you

“Good because I can't live without you.” - Joe

“Can't live without you either… I love you more than anything.” - you

A few seconds of silence went by before Joe spoke up.

“Love you too… Pookie.” - Joe

“Bye.” - you hung up

——

After threatening divorce, Joe toned it down with the “Pookie” shit, but then he found trends that guys were doing on their girls.

We were in bed one night, cuddling and watching a movie, when out of nowhere, I heard an unmistakable edit audio playing. I looked over at Joe’s phone only to see my face and an annoyed expression on Joe’s.

Joe put his phone down on his chest and scooted away from me.

“Joe…” - you

“Nope, it's okay. Comforting knowing that my wife can recognize songs that are in the background of videos of other men.” - Joe

“You're being silly. I'm huge right now because I'm pregnant with your kid.” - you

“You're not huge… but that still doesn't make up for the fact that you knew that sound.” - Joe

I rolled over onto my side and curled up against Joe. He begrudgingly reached out and ran his fingertips over my bump that was pressing against his side.

“You're crazy if you think I don't have an edit of you saved with the same song in the background.” - you grinned

Joe looked away, suddenly feeling bashful as his cheeks flushed pink, and I lightly scratched his bare arm with my nails.

“You're playin’.” - Joe

“No, I'm not!” - you

I grabbed my phone out and pulled TikTok up, immediately finding my collection titled “Hubby ❤️🤭”, and scrolled till I found the video I wanted.

“Woah, you weren’t joking.” - Joe

“Don't you look hot as fuck?” - you

“I'm just drinking water on the sidelines…” - Joe

“Exactly!” - you

————————————————————————-

Authors note: idk what to say 💀

Request in this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[nyarumie]

hey axia ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

enjoy the start of your semester, before uni gets crazy!! I loved your previous works, so I'll just slip into your inbox while the requests are open:3

What do you think would make Hoshina blush, or like, properly flustered?!

(be it headcanon, scenario, or whatever else you feel like, if anything:))

have a great day 🔆

Heart in Your Hands

hoshina soshiro x reader — fluff, comfort, they're both deeply in love, (god me when), short and sweet, established relationship

Author's Reply: Hi, thank you anon! I hope this work caters well to your request; finally got the time to work on something (which hopefully helps with my writer's block)

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! Please view my pinned and masterlist too (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

Trying to get Soshiro to blush is definitely rarer than a blue moon. Trust me, even his own platoon of talented rookies tried catching him off-guard — it's just near impossible!

Keyword: Near impossible. That's where you enter the picture.

As a Platoon Leader, you do your best to be a figure of inspiration to your officers, thus keeping up your facade of a strict mentor; but honestly—you’re not fooling anyone, you're totally a softie! Despite your personal ‘no-distractions-during-work’ policy, obvious signs of your feelings for the Vice Captain naturally slip out occasionally. Still, you refuse to get your relationship in the way of your work.

Behind closed doors lie the reserved intimacy and affection you held for him. He won't ever admit it, but he sometimes pushes himself too hard, hard enough to have scars and calluses all over his hands from his intense training, and you can only imagine how tight and desperate his grip is on his personalized close combat weapon.

He’s always desperate to prove his worth, desperate to keep the only thing that gives meaning to his existence, and you know that your words are not enough to quell the distress behind each swing and slash of his blades.

That's why you do what you know will calm him best—love him just as fierce as he swings those blades of his.

You caught him training again one night, exhaustion evident on his form. The adrenaline coursing through his body has yet to be quenched, and you know you have to do your magic to get him to rest.

“Soshiro. You're here again. One more night of this and you’ll really strain your body.” you softly said, concern evident in your voice.

He stopped midway his slash, breath heaving as he turned to face you. “Can't rest easy when the rookie officers are a whole ‘nother level, dear. If I don't do this, I doubt I’ll be able to get even the slightest hit on No. 9.”

Sighing, you made your way to him. “Put your weapon down for a while, please? Let me at least do something for you.”

Doing as you asked, he kept them somewhere safe and curiously stood in front of you again. He gave you an inquisitive look, patiently waiting for what you're planning to do.

You took his hands and caressed them, slowly feeling the roughness and evidence of all the nights he's spent bruising himself up just to get even stronger. You move his hands so that his palms are facing you, his eyes widening at your next move.

He felt a soft, careful kiss touch each of his palms, followed by a kiss to each of his fingertips.

He thinks his ears are on fire with how hot it's burning.

“W-what are ya doing, dear? I haven't cleaned my hands up!”

You entwined your hands with his before he could even pull them away, thinking that he didn't like what you just did. “I’m sorry, did I make you uncomf— Oh.”

Oh, indeed. The sight that greeted you when you turned your face up to see him is… remarkable. You can't believe the Third Division’s Vice Captain would be blushing over his significant other tenderly kissing his rough, tired hands.

“Ya didn't have to do that… I know you love me plenty! And please stop gripping on my hands harder, ya aren't letting me turn away!”

You snort. “Of course I won't let you. This is a rare sight. Still, I didn't know something like that could get you severely flustered.” you said, a hint of pride in your tone.

“Told ya I haven't cleaned ‘em up. I was holdin’ those nasty blades moments ago.”

“Ah, excuses. Just say you liked the kisses more than you expected. I’ll let you off this one time and say it's just out of exhaustion.” you giggled.

Your expression turned soft and serious again, now hugging him. His arms wrapped around you, a tired sigh coming from him. “You do so much for me, ya know that? I thought I was gonna explode earlier. Don't know what I did to deserve ya.”

“Mhm, ‘Shiro. You have no idea how at a loss I am sometimes to do something for you. I want to shoulder at least a piece of your burden, want you to share your pain with me without worrying about whether I can take it. Because I will, just for you. I’ll hold your hand whatever happens and stand side by side with you. All I ask is that you take care of yourself.”

He let out a soft laugh of relief. “I should be sayin’ these things to you. I hope ya know how amazing you are to me.”

You both pulled away from the hug, him taking a hand of yours in his. “Let's get some rest. Don't wanna worry my princess over here.”

Smiling in content, you nod your head at him. “Thank you, Soshiro.”

[impactedfates]

Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard

★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)

★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj

He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"

"To My Dearest,

If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.

Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.

I loved seeing your smile.

Hearing your laugh.

Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.

If I even deserve you.

Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.

Sincerely

Diluc."

"To Y/N

Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.

Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.

I have this one blend I think you'd really like!

Anyways, enough beating around the bush.

I like you.

Like like you.

I love you.

So much.

I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!

But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.

I hope to see you again after my work.

Yours Truly

Wriothesley"

"Hello Y/N

I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.

Or...

Well...

Practised to Tighnari.

We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.

I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.

If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?

How does a fruit confess?

They say "Olive You"

.

.

.

Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"

.

.

.

I love you"

"My beloved rose

As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.

Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.

The sparkle in your eyes.

The pretty little smile.

Your wonderful personality.

All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.

Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.

Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.

I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.

I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.

I will return soon,

Signed

Argenti"

"Morning, Afternoon or Night

I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.

I love you.

Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.

The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.

You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.

Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.

'If you finish now you can see them quicker'

'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'

'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'

I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.

But I digress.

I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.

I'll be waiting where I always am.

Jing Yuan"

"Dear Y/N

Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.

Your answer.

And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.

Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!

So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...

I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.

And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.

I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.

I hope we stay friends.

Until next time,

Gepard"

WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.

Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!

[lustlovehart]

I'll Suffer Your Sin

A/n: Based off of this thought: “My Crime To Commit” | pt. 2 : Hell Is A Place Without You

Summary: You shouldn’t have to become him, he won’t let it happen so, take it all out on him, he’ll be your solution if it means saving you. [Blade lets you stab him a bunch because he loves you.]

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Minor deaths, Possessive Characteristics (Blade), Major Character & Reader Injuries, Blade loves you but does not show it very good,

“Are you planning on just staring at me? Cause if you want we can talk about what happened.” Your figure is sat on a stool, leaning into the mahogany table as your hand lifts a glass onto your lips.

The lights are dimmed to the point that if anyone passed by they wouldn’t see the bodies that laid on the floor, but they were bright enough to see the numerous splatters of blood splashed around the space. Or, maybe a more accurate depiction would be dumped.

Even the man leaning next to you is colored red, but you’re the only clean thing in the room.

“No. You should rest.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did enough.”

“An attempt is enough to you?”

“Yes.”

Your fingers pinch onto your nose bridge, a sigh escaping your lips as you turn the chair to look at him.

“Why won’t you let me help you? I’m perfectly capable of killing too— ” the turn of his head is sharp, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him outside of a battle react so quickly.

“I’m not letting you commit the same sins I do.” Your eyes make contact, but your hearts don’t seem to connect at the subject. You don’t get it.

“What? Do you think i’m not capable of doing such a thing? I’m perfectly fine with doing it, is that not what you-“

His body lifts itself from leaning on the counter, walking over to one of the deceased corpses and ripping out the dagger held in their palm. He examines it quickly before wiping the blood off the handle, he does not do the same for the edge.

“Blade…? What are you doing?”

His body turns around and walks over to you, his hand taking hold of your arm, pulling you out of your seat. Not too rough, but not gentle either.

Your eyes widen for a moment as he lifts the weapon up. Is he going to…? No he wouldn’t, not to you at least. His eyes don’t fail to notice the shift in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Oh… Okay… So then what is that for?” Your eyes are attached to the sight of the weapon in front of you, but the man's vision doesn’t move away from you. He tosses the dagger up and catches it in his palm, the hilt facing towards you as his skin is sliced, his own blood seeping from the corners.

He leans into you, he's done it many times before so you have no clue why this one feels different… His lips graze your ears as his low voice whispers into it.

“You wish to murder? Then kill me.”

…

“… What…?”

His left hand grabs hold of your waist, pulling you closer. His other palm wrapping around your hands and guiding you to take hold of the weapon, his grip relentlessly tight as he doesn’t let go. It’s so firm you wouldn’t be able to make him let go if you tried.

“I’ll let you. If you want to kill, do away with me. Plunge this weapon into my heart as many times as you long for, it’s all yours to massacre.” He raises your grasp on the weapon high into the air, not even allowing you a chance to answer before plunging it deep into his heart. Upon impact blood begins to gush out, staining your fingers a deep red.

“Blade…! What are you—?! Yingxing—!” You fight to let his hold on you falter, but it doesn’t let up. Not even for a moment. He pulls the edge out from his heart, lifting your hands up together once more, ready to stab himself again.

“If doing this kills your urge to let yourself fall into hell, i’ll do it hundreds of times more.” You can feel him preparing himself for another blow. Your head searches for a way to stop this act. The way his left arm is pulling you in by the waist is strong, you know you can’t push him away. The same goes for the hand holding your own and the dagger together.

And so he does it again. Then again. These blows are enough to murder anyone immediately, but he still stands, so does his grasp on you, never faltering.

So you do what you can with the only free part of you.

Right when you feel his hand bringing the blade down, you place your own hand right in the spot he plans to further wound himself. Your eyes clench, fully expecting the weapon to pierce through your skin. When time came to, there was still a sharp pain on you, but it did not stab through the way you thought it would.

The scene playing out in front of him makes the familiar, unwanted, sensation of Mara bubbling up within him come to light once more.

When your eyes open, the look on his face is one of his more expressive looks, eyes slightly widened. He had stopped his onslaught of blows right before he could fully stab through you, but with the speed he had thrust the dagger, he had still hit you anyway. Your eyes follow his own, looking down at your appendage.

The adrenaline must've distracted you from the pain, as when you look the wound finally starts to act up, a mixture of grunts and curses escaping your mouth from the affliction.

His immediate reaction is to set you back down on the seat you originally were sat on. It doesn't take too long for the hole in his chest to start regenerating. The way his nerves and flesh reattach is mesmerizing, but your trance is broken the moment you remember it's in fact a part of the body's bloody system, which is… kinda gross.

Your arms are now coated a deep crimson, specks of blood dripping down the sides. It is horrendously grotesque, but it's not a sight you haven't seen before. The man in front of you takes your injured hand and looks at it.

“[Name].” That is all that leaves his lips, before he unwraps the bandage on his own body and transfers it to your own. He would've given you fresh ones had he had any on hand, but he doesn't. Besides, you need them more than he does. He wraps them around your hand, in a soft manner, one unbefitting of someone with his persona.

When your vision starts to unfocus he calls out to you again. But that's all, only saying your name when you begin to gaze off in your mind. When he finishes tying your wound up he says your name one last time, this time following it up with something.

“This may have been worse than you staining your hands with another's blood.”

…?

“You said you didn't want me to kill, so that counts you too doesn't it…?”

“No. If anything, my blood is the only ones who you should touch.” Ah, now you understand. He said it a bunch of times, but you were just too dazed to realize the real meaning as he was essentially murdering himself with your own body.

Seems he’s spent most of his immortal life in pain to remember what a kind touch was. Weirdly enough, this act of self harm is both possessive and “loving”, if you could call it that.

Possessive in that, the thought of anyone else's blood on your hands, or even worse, your touch, on another person's skin, would make his mara bubble up in such a hideous way neither Kafkas spirit whisperer nor your presence could calm it down.

But kind in the aspect that he could never fathom the thought of you turning into him. Him… He hates the thought of any sufferings you could face in the future. Even though it's selfish of him to even hope for something from you, his sick affliction that Kafka would tease him for, “love”, he cant help but feel personally inclined to redirect any misfortunes that come your way to his own soul.

The lights flicker as you stare at him, being sat down made it so he would have to position himself to lean down. You’re sure that if you had been calmer you would’ve noticed his soften voice.

The feeling of his mara begins to still. His hand takes your covered hands and places it on his chest, his other appendage taking your free palm and putting it on his cheek.

The tear in his clothes from the previous assault remains, the sensation of your fingertips touching his skin making you shiver. The faint feeling of a beating heart is felt, this fact visibly upsetting the man.

“No matter how many times you murdered me, it wouldn’t have changed anything. This accursed body will rebuild itself. I don’t need it. So have it.”

“Huh…? What are you saying… Do you always have to speak so cryptically—“

“Take me, as much as you need. All of it if you have to.” The grip on your hands tightens, enough to keep you in place, but not to the point of harm— he would never.

Your hand stings a bit, a wince escaping your mouth. It makes him let go of you, as he presumes the taller position, no longer leaning down to see eye to eye at you. The still you sit on squeaks as you uncomfortably shift in it. His eyes close themself as he returns to the pose he first was from the start, leaning on the table next to you.

…

“I’ll leave the… ‘sinning’, to you than.” After this little quarrel, perhaps proving your worth is not as fulfilling as you once thought.

He doesn’t give you an answer, only replying with a deep “mm”.

“Oh? Did I interrupt something?” An all too familiar woman walks into the room, her eyes glancing all around the bloodstained room. She doesn’t even acknowledge the bodies laid on the floor, her heels clicking as she steps over them like they’re not there.

Neither of you say anything, leaving Kafka to stare and imagine what had happened. Or maybe not, she probably already knew what happened but wanted to hear one of you admit it yourself.

“Hm, fine, it doesn’t matter, Elio needs us to leave, the script says the IPC will be arriving on this planet soon.” She doesn’t waste anytime turning heel and walking out again. Typically, when it’s just her and Blade he’ll silently trail behind her, like a second shadow.

But you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into your body, waiting for you to be the one to get up and follow. Your eyes dart towards him for a second but return back to the doorway, lifting yourself up, the injuries hand you possess tingling from the movement.

It’s only when you're close to being out of view that he moves, his silent steps being quick as he immediately catches up to your fleeting form. Seems when you’re involved he’s more insistent on being your shadow than his own. His methods of becoming one with you aren’t sane, but surely enough it’s all he has to give you, so he’ll make you have it all.

———

Ever since I made that thought I had this cooking up in my drafts and I finally have it finished

[lunarmoves]

you don't think you'll ever get over how tall the daycare attendant is.

it's a bit intimidating at times, you think. all seven-foot-something of metal and silicon that tends to loom rather ominously over your own figure from time to time. you're not sure why they were made that tall, but you figure it has something to do with being able to see kids easier around the daycare. or maybe fazbear entertainment just likes making freakishly tall robots. who knows.

the first time it really strikes you how much of a height advantage they have over you is during the daytime hours of the daycare. some poor kid had gotten their toy thrown up onto the playground structure and it was stuck on the outside, nestled between two bars that you definitely can't reach from the ground nor from the inside of the structure.

you look down at said kid holding onto your leg after you'd scolded the other two who were the culprits of such an act and let out a small sigh. you don't like climbing, not particularly, but you guess you're going to have to suck it up for now. if only so the poor kid can stop making that teary-eyed expression at you.

you pat the kid on the head and take the few steps to the playground so you can grab onto one of the bars and pull yourself up. but before you can even attempt to shimmy your way farther up, a bright and certainly loud figure comes swooping in from behind you.

"heellooo friends! that's awfully dangerous to be doing here!" sun exclaims as he grabs you easily on the sides and lifts you from the playground to set you back on the floor. you blink up at him and watch as he extends a long arm (seriously, his arms are way out of proportion compared to the rest of his body) up to the toy and easily grabs it from its stuck position.

"i believe this belongs to you?" he asks the sniveling kid standing next to you, and they immediately brighten once their toy is back in their hands. sun gives them a little hair ruffle. "don't go losing it again, now! we don't want to get any boo-boos climbing where we shouldn't be, right?"

"mmh!" the kid nods, then wipes their snotty little nose on their sleeve and runs off to show their retrieved toy to their friends. sun's head turns 180 degrees to watch them scamper off, and then he's turning back around to face you with a wagging finger.

"friend! you know you can always ask me for help, yes?" he chides you in a way that makes you feel a bit embarrassed, but you only roll your eyes in good nature.

"c'mon sun, i'd thought you were busy with the others!" you frown, and the sight makes sun reach out a large hand so he can smush your cheeks together until your lips are puffed out like a fish's.

"i'm never too busy to help you, silly!" he says as you bat his hand away and rub at your cheeks. "all you have to do is ask!"

"i had it handled," you murmur, looking anywhere but at him. with the way sun is looming over you, slightly bent at the torso, you're covered in his shadow. it makes you feel small.

"climbing the outside of the playground does not set a good example for the children!" sun says, and his words make it seem like he's scolding you, though his tone is light and airy. "no, no, no, friend! we don't want you to get hurt, do we?"

"i get it already," you reply, stepping back slightly so you can look at him better without having to crane your head back. sun's head tilts slightly to the side, but he doesn't comment. "i'm not a kid, you know. a fall from that height won't hurt me." okay, yeah, maybe your pride's just a bit wounded at needing someone taller to do a simple task for you. sue you.

"it can if you fall right on your head!" sun gasps dramatically, bringing his hands up to his fixed smile. "no, better to be safe than sorry, okay?" he reaches down to boop you right on the nose. you wrinkle it at him then concede with a large sigh that's more for show than anything. this was a dumb semi-argument anyways.

"okay, i'll ask you for help next time," you relent, and it makes sun spring up, his rays spinning happily around his faceplate.

"wonderful!" he chirps, then reaches a lanky arm down to grab your wrist. "now, come! it's almost naptime!" you get practically dragged over to the sleeping mats, sun's long stride making you do an awkward jog to keep up.

you've long come to realize that sun tends to use his height to help you with different things. whether it may be cleaning parts of the playground equipment that you can't reach, or helping you stack things on shelves that were way above your arm's length. he just wants to be of good use, you suppose, no matter how teeny tiny it makes you feel.

you can't say the same for moon.

for where sun may inadvertently make you feel small, moon does it on purpose.

"moon, c'mon!" you groan, standing before him in the dark daycare after hours as he dangles your phone just out of reach over your head. you raise your arms up half-heartedly and try to snatch at it, but he pulls it up farther away from you when you do. "give it back."

moon snickers, white eyes upturned into crescent moons of delight. "no."

"moon," you say sternly, as though you have any power of authority over him (you don't). "please."

"no texting on the job," moon replies, even though you know that he knows you were literally just checking the time. you give him an exasperated look.

"moon. phone. now."

"no." then, as though to taunt you even further, he bends down to pinch your nose. "shorty."

you give him a glare and bat his hand away so you can rub at your poor nose. both him and sun liked to squish and squeeze you, you've noticed. "moon!"

he says your name back at you in the same tone you just used. it just makes you huff.

"if you don't give me back my phone, you'll regret it," you say ominously, mustering all the darkness you have in your body to make your scowl as scary as possible. moon just giggles. you don't think you're successful. he probably thinks you look like a wet cat.

"yeah?" it's obviously an invitation. he wants to see what you can possibly do. your mind's practically in overdrive trying to think of something on the spot. and you do come up with something. unfortunately.

there's a moment where all you do is stare at him. his head rotates curiously to the side. and then you launch yourself at him, hands gripping at his torso so you can claw your way up his body like you're some kind of small animal (to him, you probably are).

moon freezes for the slightest of seconds, and it gives you ample opportunity to shimmy your way up so that you can grip at his thin shoulders and pull yourself farther up. then he's leaning backwards slightly, his arm raising higher above his head to prevent you from reaching your phone.

"give!" you demand as you hook your feet around his body like he's a sliding pole and use one of his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as you extend your arm as far as it can go.

"cheating! cheater!" he barks out in response, and his voice is a bit muffled from where it's nearly against your stomach, but you don't care.

"not cheating! give me back my phone!"

it's a few moments more of this kind of struggling until you finally just end up yanking his nightcap over his face in a temporary distraction. it works, too. at least long enough for you to yank his arm down, grab your phone, and then leap off of him. you stumble a little when you hit the ground and spin around with a triumphant look as you notice moon has lifted his cap high enough so you can see the lower half of his eyes.

"ha!" you gloat, pocketing your phone right away so he can't snatch it out of your hands again. "you asked for it!"

moon simply stares at you. and just when you're starting to think that maybe he locked up or something, his mischievous smile returns with a vengeance as he bends low and raises his arms like he's about to grab you.

uh oh. you know that look. you don't even hesitate as you spin around on your heel and immediately make a run for it.

and well... as moon chases after you through the plex, his long shadow constantly overlapping your own, you figure that you'll just have to get used to being constantly swamped by the significantly taller animatronics. it isn't the worst thing, at least, but it will certainly take some time.

even if moon's an ass about it.

[imfinereallyy]

Father Figures

pt. 2 here, and full version on ao3 here

The first time James Edward Hopper meets Steve Harrington is when Steve is thirteen years old. It is back when he is still pushing everyone to call him Chief Hopper, or at the very least James to sound more professional. It is mostly a lost cause, as he has just returned to Hawkins after his daughter Sarah's death and most people can't help but call him Jim and Hop in familiarity, in sympathy.

It didn't mean they didn't take him any less seriously though. In fact, his cold, grieving demeanor gave him quite the reputation around town. Made assholes like Lenny Byers and troublemakers like the little twerp Munson turn in the other direction when they see him. So Jim doesn't try to push the professional name too much. He knows people around here respect him.

They respect him enough to follow his word, they respect him enough to turn a blind eye when he takes an extra pill or two.

Jim doesn't think too deeply about his reputation until he meets Steve Harrington for the first time.

He gets a call from Benny. It's directly to his line at the station, instead of a general 911 call. He doesn't think much of it when he answers, most likely it was a non emergency from an old friend from high school. That's the only reason people call him most days.

"Chief Hopper. Make it quick."

"Jimmy." A deep, worried breath comes from the phone.

Jim immediately straightens. "Benny, what's wrong?"

Benny usually only calls for a laugh, or to invite him out for a drink. The guy doesn't care about too much, or ask too many questions. Hearing concern in his voice was alarming, to say the least. "Listen, Hop, there is a kid here. And normally I don't care, cause business is business, but it's two in the morning, Jimmy. And despite the kid wearing the most expensive pair of sneakers I have ever seen, he only has two dollars on him for a meal. He got all skittish when the plate landed too loudly. And I don't know..." Benny takes a deep breath before he continues. "...I just don't want to be at fault if this kid's trouble and some fancy parents come looking for him."

Jim can tell Benny wants to say something else, he doesn't push though. Jim Hopper tries to never ask too many questions.

"Alright Ben, I'll be there in ten."

———

When Jim arrives at the diner, Benny notices him and nods in the direction of the corner booth. And there, sitting with his head low and scarfing down a plate of fries is Steve Harrington.

Jim has never met the kid personally, but he knows his parents. Cold, calculating, and pretty much owns half of Hawkins. Jim is starting to understand why Benny has called him.

Jim slides into the booth across from the young boy. He's prepared to take the kid by the back of his shirt and drag him out of there. He doesn't need these kids to be causing hard-working people any trouble. But when Jim makes a thump in the booth, the Harrington kid's face snaps up in fear, and Jim's plan for an angry monologue just drops.

Because there, on Steve Harrington's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana itself. Jim's face remains gruff, but his body language softens. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here so late?"

Steve's posture remains stiff and small. "Sorry sir, I was just hungry and it was the only place open. I wasn't—I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

It's then, for the first time, Jim thinks that his reputation isn't one of respect. Instead, his reputation might something worse. Fear.

"Didn't think you were. Just wondering what a rich kid like you, is doing on this side of town, at this time of night." Jim doesn't say it like a question, just fact. He tries not to take it too personally when Harrington turns his bruised side in on himself.

"Would have uh—gotten something from home but we—I didn't have any food left. And by the time I was able to eat, everything else was closed."

"Able to eat—kid what are you rambling about. Let me call your parents to pick you up." Jim makes his way to stand but Steve grabs his wrist to pull him back.

"No! I mean—" he clears his throat "—not necessary sir. My parents left for a work trip tonight. I uh—don't have a number for you to call them anyway. They call me instead, they never have a solid line to contact. Nothing bad happens in Hawkins anyway, so it isn't something to worry about." The last line sounds practiced, like it is something repeated to Steve religiously enough it's become his own mantra.

Jim is starting to put it together. The waiting all day to eat. The bruise on his jaw. The lack of money for food. God, the kid probably walked six miles to get here.

Jim isn't stupid, he can connect the dots. But Jim also knows when not to push things. When not to rock the boat. When sometimes, even if it pains him, helping someone would be a lost cause. He thinks of Sarah briefly.

It's even worse when that lost cause is just a kid.

Jim decides maybe the best thing he can do for Steve at that moment is to ignore the obvious problem and offer him a bit of kindness. "Well, I can't have ya here this late. Could look bad for Benny. And we don't want to get Benny in trouble do we?"

Steve shakes his head immediately. "No Sir."

"Didn't think so. Why don't I drive you to the station? Don't worry I'm not arresting you. But we got a nice cot there, and you can get some rest. Then I'll drive you back in the morning when I clock out. Cause I'm still on duty and all. Can't be driving you back Loch Nora quite yet." Jim doesn't mention how he can see bags under Steve's eyes. He doesn't mention how it would be quicker to his house than to the station either. Jim maybe, just a little bit, wants to keep an eye on him. Even if it's only for a short time.

"It's okay I can walk—" Jim levels Steve with a look "—actually that sounds great. Thank you, Sir."

Jim nods with finality and starts to stand. "Oh and kid? Enough with that sir crap. I ain't Mr. Harrington." He almost says I'm not your dad. But that felt wrong somehow, giving Harrington senior that title.

"Okay, sir—I mean Hopper. Okay, Hopper."

---

As the years go by, James Edward Hopper keeps an eye out for Steven James Harrington (Yes he looks at his file for his full name. Yes, it makes him feel some sort of way he has his name as his middle name and not his father's. Richard would make a horrible middle name anyway). At first, it's drive-bys to see if anyone's home. Giving the kid a ride if he sees him walking. Swinging by a basketball game or two, to see how he's playing.

Then it turns into busting his ragers. Hauling him in for the night not to arrest him but to sober the kid up. Pulling him over for driving while intoxicated with that dumb Hagan boy.

Jim wants to be mad, he does. He even yells at Steve sometimes. But he can't find in him to be mean to him, not really. Not when he's pretty sure the only thing Steve has consumed in days is alcohol. Not when even though he has gotten much bigger, and the bruises are less visible, Steve never ceases to flinch when Jim grabs him.

So mostly, Jim either just drives him home or brings him in, giving him a sandwich and bed for the night.

Around when Steve is sixteen though, things get worse for Jim. He becomes more frustrated, with Steve, with his job, and with this town. He takes more pills. He neglects his job. He forgets Steve.

Then the Upside Down happens for the first time. Jim tries to better himself for Joyce and the kids. He mainly though does it for El. His second chance, his new reason for trying, his daughter.

Jim knows it's okay to get a little lost in taking care of her. That it's a good thing, and she deserves his full attention.

He does feel a bit of guilt though, after round two of the Upside Down. When Steve Harrington sits in Joyce Byer's living room, looking like he went ten rounds with a semi.

The kids are all over him (including Mike which shocks the hell out of him). Dustin is trying to stop the bleeding on his face, Lucas is holding ice against his head and even El, who Steve met for all of five minutes, is sitting beside him on the couch, holding his shoulder up. There is a look in El's eyes as she stares up at Steve. Like she can see through him, like she knows him. Like she understands him.

Jim feels his heart break a little.

He approaches Steve in a crouched position. "Hey kid, I think we better take you to a hospital. You look like shit." He is sure there is a better way to say it, but Jim Hopper is a blunt man and that was never going to change.

The redhead, Max, snorts. "That's honestly the nicest way to put it."

Steve glares, Jim can't decide if it's at him or the kids. "No. I'm okay."

Dustin shouts, "Steve you are most definitely not okay. Hop's right you look like shit—"

"Language."

Dustin ignores Steve, "—and that's just externally. Who knows what's going on internally."

"C'mon kid, I can drive ya." Jim moves to help him stand.

Steve bursts with anger and pushes Jim away. "I said no. And you're not my dad."

Jim's jaw tightens and he resists the urge to scream back: and thank god for that.

El speaks before he can yell back. "You're hurt." It's soft, it's demanding and it's so very El. Jim watches Steve crumble back into the couch.

His voice is rougher than before, but much more gentle, "No hospitals."

"Okay. At least let Joyce look at ya. She used to be a nurse." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

"Okay, Hopper. Okay, Hop."

———

After that, for a little while, Jim tries to look out for Steve again. It's harder this time though. He's more independent and harder to catch sight of. When he does see him, one of the gremlins is around him, and he can't check-in. And Hop has El, and he can't neglect her in favor of Steve. He tries to balance it out, but in the end, Steve isn't his kid.

Jim finds a small loophole though, which is El herself.

He worries about her every she since she ran away and he didn't even notice. And he knows Steve, like him, has a soft spot for the kids. So under the guise of babysitting, Jim gets Steve in his cabin once a week. So someone other than Joyce or Jonathan (or horribly, mike) is spending time with her. Sure, he's not there to keep an eye out for Steve himself, but it's the closest he's going to get.

Besides, biological daughter or not, El is just like Jim. She has a habit of collecting strays. If it's not going to be him looking out for Steve, he can't think of anyone better for the job than his little girl.

———

After Starcourt, somewhere in a Russian prison, Jim thinks of Steve.

Every day, Jim thinks of El. Misses her. Longs to hear her laugh even longs to hear her yell back at him. Every day, Jim thinks of his daughter and mourns what could have been. But Jim knows she's being taken care of. Knows Joyce and the boys will love her, and take care of her. Make sure she knows nothing else but kindness.

He worries though, between those moments, about how there is no one there for Steve.

———

Months later, in Hawkins Memorial, Jim Hopper finds Steve Harrington in a hospital chair next to Eddie Munson's comatose body.

Jim has a lot of questions but doesn't get any of them out because suddenly Steve Harrington is right in front of him, sucking in a harsh "Hop," and then collapsing in Jim’s arms.

Jim holds him close, says nothing, and cries silently with him.

———

During the summer that follows, James Edward Hopper notices a change within Steven James Harrington. Despite the obvious PTSD the boy suffers, and the scars that litter his body, Steve is visibly happier than Jim has ever seen him. He laughs more, he openly cries more, and he loves more.

Steve's now living with Robin in a tiny two-bedroom downtown. He comes to family dinner with the entire party every Sunday. He shares a cup of tea (no more beer for either of them) and a cigarette every Thursday evening on the Byers-Hoppers front porch.

Most noticeably, the biggest difference Jim sees in Steve is Eddie Munson.

Jim once again isn't stupid. And despite being an ex-cop isn't a bigot (he couldn't find himself back at the force, the corruption is too much for him. And he himself, was never very good at his job). So he can easily come to the conclusion that Steve has a massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Dear. God.

It's not that he has a problem with Eddie being a boy, but it's the fact that out of all people he can choose from, Steve had to go and fall for the twerp who used to trip over his laces when running away from Jim for the third time.

Jim feels, after all the years of neglect that Steve faced, he could do so much better.

Steve is happy though for once, and Jim doesn't say anything at first. But it becomes so painful to watch. The lingering touches. The longing gazes. The nicknames (sweetheart, honey, dear god did he just say big boy—).

Nothing ever comes of it though, it's August and neither of them has done anything but pine. And Jim seems to be the only one who notices.

At first, he thinks it's cause everyone is being kind, and giving them room to explore themselves. But with everyone making jokes about Robin and Steve (from the kids) or Steve and Nancy (from Eddie), it seems like no one notices the excruciating flirting between the two.

(Except for maybe Robin, but Jim isn't quite sure Steve and she aren't one organism. He doesn't count her)

Still, Jim ignores it though. He has learned his listen from Mike and El. Getting involved makes everything worse.

That is until, the second week in August right before family dinner, when he finds Steve and Eddie early, sitting on the couch, with Eddie dabbing the blood off of Steve's face.

"What happened?" Jim is over on Steve's other side in an instant.

"Nothing Hop, it's stupid." Steve tries to shrug off, and he looks towards Eddie briefly.

Jim's vision, for a brief brief moment, is filled with unclear rage. It's enough to consume him and makes him impulsive. Jim can't help but think he got it wrong. Maybe the two are together, and Steve had fallen into a bad relationship. He knew that Eddie was trouble, but he didn't think about it being that kind.

And though he is being irrational, and being for once a little stupid, no one can really blame him when he hauls Eddie up by the collar and into his line of vision.

"Munson, did you put your goddamn hands on my kid?"

Jim can hear Joyce, El, and Will (the only other people in the house) all run out into the living room at the sheer volume of Jim's voice.

Steve sits frozen, Joyce and El yell at him to "put him down, oh my god."

And Munson? He starts to ramble.

"No. No! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Haven't we learned this by now? I can barely kill a spider. I have to put them in a cup and put them outside." Eddie chuckles nervously, waving his hands around frantically.

Jim's grip tightens and pulls him closer. He's pretty sure his vibrating at this point.

Suddenly though, Eddie becomes deathly serious. As if he just realizes what Hopper has said.

"Hop, I would lay down my life before I ever hurt Steve. There is no one in this world that deserves kindness more than him. And if I ever do hurt him, whether it be emotionally or physically, I give you full permission to beat me up. Hell, I'll probably throw myself at your fist."

Jim doesn't let go but stays silent as he listens.

"You see, Steve here decided to pull a you when some jerks wouldn't leave me alone at Family Video today. They were throwing around a bunch of slurs. Nothing I haven't heard before. And even though I could handle myself—“ Eddie gives Steve a look “Steve here always has to be the hero and decided to defend my honor. And of course, it just had to turn physical. And Steve decided to take on three guys on his own. Got to say though, he held his own. It was kinda hot honestly—"

Jim hears Steve choke a little beside them, startling him out of his frozen state.

"—And he only got a cut on his forehead from one of the dickwads class rings. I'm a little worried he has another concussion though. Believe me, Hop when I say, I am just as pissed at those guys as you."

At the end of his speech, Eddie calms down and even holds eye contact with Jim. He still doesn't let go of the twerp, despite being considerably less angry. Well, at least at Eddie.

It's Steve though that finally gets him to let go. "Dad, please put Eddie down."

Steve says it like it's nothing. Steve says it likes its the easiest thing in the world. But to Jim, to Jim it's the best thing he's gotten since El.

Instantaneously, Jim drops Eddie back on the ground and scoops Steve into a bone-crushing hug. "You got to stop scaring me like this kid. Can't lose you again."

Steve's almost his height now, so he tucks Steve's head into his shoulder and lays his head on top of his hair. He hears a muffled, wet "I'm sorry" against him.

Jim chokes back tears as he says, "No, no you got nothing to apologize for. Just be more careful. Okay?"

Steve releases himself from his hold and looks at him. "Okay, Hop. Okay, Dad."

Jim ruffles his hair without jostling his head too much. He thinks he would do anything for his kids. Including pushing along this nightmare of a pining contest.

"And if you like him I like him too."

"Huh?" Steve says confused.

"Eddie here. If you like him, then he's okay by me."

Steve goes to stop Jim, but he's already one step ahead. "But if he hurts you even in the slightest, you're watching me dig the grave I'm going to bury him in. Understand?"

Steve blushes from head to toe and nods frantically, knowing if he protests it will only make the conversation longer. The room is silent until Eddie speaks.

"Don't worry Hop, I'll dig the grave for you." Eddie's voice, despite the threat, is filled with delight, wonder, and hope.

My work here is done Jim thinks as he gives the boys one last nod and leaves the room.

And if later, if Jim sees Steve and Eddie holding hands at the dinner table he doesn't comment on it. And if he sees Eddie give Steve's knuckles a light kiss, and whisper something that almost looks like "I love you", he only smiles at the two boys. Because if one more person loves his boy, it's a win for him.

Because James Edward Hopper, thinks his son Steve deserves that and so much more.

———

okay I spent waaaay too much time on this (as per usual) but I wanted to dive in a little more on Steve and Hoppers relationship (and how it impacts Steve and Eddie). I feel like a lot of fics makes them distant friends (which is canonically correct I guess) or surrogate family with no explanation. And I like the idea of them slowing building a father son relationship. Really leaning into you choose your family. I know people have mixed feelings about Steve calling him Dad (honestly sometimes I too think it’s cringey) but sometimes I love it and that boy deserves a good father figure. Even though steddie doesn’t come in until the end, I think it all really blends together nicely. Also in my head either the boys are both out to each other, is at least it’s heavily implied or is a known safe space they are in. We do not support outing people in the house. It’s probably a one-shot, but maybe I’ll add more snippets later on. For now it felt like a good place to stop.

As always I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just zoned out for like two hours as I wrote it. It kinda made me emotional I’m not going to lie.

part 2 here and the full version on ao3 here

[shunsuiken]

CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + he’s so fucking in love with you (we love to see it)

synopsis. your husband notices how you seem to look away whenever he makes eye contact with you. so tonight he finally confronts you in his own way.

wc. 0.8k

an. yall i love this man so much omg i cant i was literally blushing while writing this goodbye i'll see myself out now 🚶🏻‍♀️

“ah if only i was reborn as the mirror on your vanity," your husband sighs from behind you.

you laugh and swipe the last bits of your moisturiser on your cheeks. “why?”

“because you get all close and personal with it...” ayato trails off and stares at your figure with steady eyes. “...but not with me."

you raise your brows in confusion, and for some reason your heart skips a beat. "what ever do you mean?" you ask without even looking at him.

ayato walks towards your sitting-figure. tonight, his lavender stare is not one he looks at you with when he wants to share an intimate night with you. rather, it's one of curiosity. he wants to know why you look away every time he has his eyes trained on you. even now you do not meet eyes with him. why is that?

do you not love him as much as you used to? was there something he didn't realise he did wrong? were you bored of life as the yashiro commissioner's wife? he can't seem to think of any other reason for you to look away from him. besides, he loves your eyes! they're such a wonderful shade so he can only wonder why you turn away and limit the time he gets to stare into them.

while those thoughts flood ayato's head, your palms are sweating at how close he's become. panicked, you turn around and stand to meet his eyes at a less strained angle, using the back of your foot to nudge your chair underneath your vanity.

ayato's pout almost makes you laugh if not for how his eyes do not leave your face. you can already feel a herd of butterflies making themselves at home in your stomach at how closely he's observing your expression.

"you're doing it again."

"w- what?" you question, eyes flickering from his gaze to his vanity on the opposite side of the room.

ayato's brows crease ever so slightly, an ungloved finger rising so he can tilt your face towards his. "sweetheart, look at me please."

your cheeks heat up as your hands scramble for something to hold onto when you realise he's closed the gap between your clothed bodies. you then feel a hand planted on your waist. oh archons. "i- it's—it's going to be really difficult if you look at me like that!" your voice does nothing to defend you, high-pitched and breathy.

ayato tilts his head, as if wondering what you mean and you're not entirely sure if he's faking it or not.

you blink, moving your gaze away by an inch but your husband is quick to gently manoeuvre your jaw back so you continue to face him. your expression creases in protest. he only chuckles at your reaction, a smile finally appearing on his handsome face.

he traces circles with his thumb on your waist as an attempt to calm you down. after seeing how you've reacted to his forwardness, the yashiro commissioner is able to put two and two together. "tell me what's on your mind, dear." sigh, does he even realise your string of sanity is about to snap?

you're so out of it. you can't even bear to focus on his words when he studies your facial features like that—ooh that's not good for your heart. your bottom lip is quivering.

you are all he sees.

"n- nothing," you say in a hushed tone.

even after sharing so many lovely nights together, it seems that you still cannot handle the way he looks at you. adorable. he thinks. but he can't just leave his wife suffering all by herself like this. after all, what kind of husband would leave his wife in a state like this? hands pawing on his chest softly, lips curved in nervousness and eyes blinking as if to help you cope with his loving gaze.

"you say 'nothing' but so much is written across your face," a short giggle leaves his lips in amusement. "why don't you join me in bed, hm? i can look at you some more there."

you whine and shove your face into his shoulder. "don't mock me."

ayato takes his chance to pull you in between his arms for a warm embrace, sighing contently. "now i'm not mocking you, i'm simply saying that you are a delight to look at and as your husband, shouldn't i be looking at you the most?"

a playful scoff leaves your lips, momentarily lifting your head to meet his eyes. "oh don't say that—or your reports will come after you."

your husband groans, "darling, don't remind me. i've personally had enough looking at those useless documents." you then hear him click his tongue. "don't try changing the subject either, so join me in bed, will you?"

you sigh an exasperated 'okay, fine' before yelping as you're unceremoniously dragged on to the bed by your giggling husband.