“You can’t be serious Y/N, it wasn’t even my fault.” You ignored Jimin’s voice as you stormed away from him and walked into the kitchen. The only thing you wanted to do right now was get away from him, but it seemed that no matter how far you got from him he would just appear right behind you again.
“Yes, Jimin, I am serious. What would make you think otherwise?” Your tone was bitter, anger flooding through you and exiting in the form of words. There was no other way for you to release it so you just had to deal with trying your best to stay calm and not completely flip out on your boyfriend. Jimin sighed loudly before speaking again, causing you to turn around and look at him.
“She was just a fan, fan’s get close. It’s not my fault.” He argued. You rolled your eyes, feeling more anger rise at the fact that he was trying to defend himself over this. The picture had been all over twitter and it seemed that ARMY’s were going crazy over it. They had been tweeting it at you, waiting for some kind of reaction, but you held back until the moment he got home and you could confront him about it.
“It’s your fault that you didn’t try to ask her to move, and it’s your fault that you didn’t mention me, you know, your girlfriend.” You said.
“God you always get like this.” Jimin’s tone surprised you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback by his words. There wasn’t anything about it that was very different, just a slight undertone of frustration that you weren’t used to. Jimin was always calm with you, even now while you were practically yelling at you he was keeping his normal tone.
“What do you mean I always get like this?” You asked.
Request: If requests are open, can you write a fic where Lin gets too used to stealing y/n’s chapstick and then he accidentally uses it when it happens to have a color tint to it. I’m sorry if that was confusing! But I hope that made sense and that your day goes wonderfully!
Word Count: 1585ish
Author’s Note: Sorry this request took so long! I hope whoever the anon was who submitted it enjoys it! Thanks to @secretschuylersister, she’s the best and helped me a lot with this one. #bestofwivesandbestofwomen Also, this video is important. And as always, let me know if you see any mistakes.
Prompt: "If you want to get technical it costs exactly zero dollars to murder someone if you keep it simple.“
“So you’re going to steal it?” you asked the five criminals sitting in front of you. It wasn’t that you had a problem with it, you wouldn’t be hanging around criminals if you did, you just wanted to make sure you were clear on the plan.
“Why do you keep bringing your girlfriend to these things, Quill?” Rocket looked up at him, his arms crossed.
“What? You came barging in here yelling how you knew what your birthday present to yourself was going to be this year!” Peter threw his arms out angrily.
“Whatever.” Rocket waved him off. “Yeah, we’re going to steal it. But they stole it first. We’re bringing balance to the universe.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works but ok.”
“While we are there, we can steal some of their weapons and give them to the people so that they may defend themselves against any further attacks from these men,” Gamora suggested.
“That’s a good idea.” Peter leaned forward to inspect the blueprints Rocket had provided.
“So now you’re Robin Hood and the merry men?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Gamora is not a man,” Drax pointed out.
“And you’re not so merry, big guy.” Peter gave the specs one last look, before returning his attention to Rocket. “Do you have a plan?”
“It’s a pretty easy to get into. We can just knock most the guards out and I can hack the doors easy.”
“But we may run into a problem here,” The raccoon hopped of his seat so that he could point to the area he was talking about. There was a small blurb of information connected to the area by a short line. “There is a security team here. Hard skulls. Ya know, if you let me buy-”
“I already told you, we don’t have that kind of money,” Peter said dismissively.
”If you want to get technical it costs exactly zero dollars to murder someone if you keep it simple.“ You leaned back slightly, bringing your foot up to rest on the opposite leg. “I’ve been on this planet for awhile. I know the species. They may be hard to knock out, but pretty easy to kill, if you know what you’re doing. Don’t even need that fancy weapon Pete won’t letcha buy.”
Rocket looked up at you, clearly shocked. “I change my mind, Quill. You should bring her to more of these things.”
“I am Groot.”
“I don’t care. I like her plan.”
“We made a promise to the Nova man not to kill anymore people,” Drax spoke up.
“Guys, relax. I was joking. I’m not gonna help you kill anyone.”
“Were you serious about knowing the species though?” Peter looked at you.
You smiled at him. “Not only that, but I know this group specifically. They’re a highly skilled group of fighters that you can hire as security for the right price. They typically work in teams of five to ten.” Leaning forward and resting your arms on your legs, you looked at the blueprints. “If you can get me into their computer system, I could probably tell you the fighting style and strengths and weaknesses on the team working the day you plan on breaking in. Once you know that, you should be able to incapacitate them.” Pulling your attention away from the blueprints, you were suddenly very aware of the looks you were currently receiving. “I, uh, worked at a bar by their…” You paused searching for what to call it. “Training facility. Get a man drunk enough and you can find out his whole life story.”
“I agree with Rocket,” Gamora looked from you to Peter. “You should bring her to more of these.”
i live for isak calling even baby?? let’s talk about it more.
the exasperated “baby” on the rare mornings when even doesn’t cook him breakfast because they’re both too exhausted by the night before (seriously, isak made even play fifa until 1am before he could admit that he sucks and no matter how many games they play, isak will always lose). even takes the last of isak’s cocoa puffs, and shit, isak had actually been looking forward to them?? but alas, he’d stepped out of the shower a minute after even, and his cereal stealing boyfriend had struck (even steals his clothes his heart and now his chocolatey cereal too?? isak has half a mind to break up with him). isak’s pouting at even, and even feels so bad for him that he offers isak some of the cereal. but even’s the kind of guy who pours his cereal into his milk and gulps it all down at once, and isak is very particular about only pouring a little bit of cereal into his milk at a time, so he just turns up his nose at even’s gross soggy abomination.
isak hates hates hates waking up in the morning, and trying to figure out how to get isak up when they both have school is just trial and error. isak would appreciate it. it’s like a scientific experiment, except it’s one where the consequence would be an armful of grumpy boyfriend and no kisses until at least 10 o’clock. even has tried everything from blasting nas at full volume, to getting magnus in there to say something stupid because isak’s reflex is to drag him, but he’s found out that the most effective method is to pepper isak’s face with kisses until he blinks awake groggily, because he’ll pout, and he’ll say, “goddammit, baby,” like he’s actually annoyed, but he’s giggling so hard that even’s not buying it.
the boys make fun of it so much!! the first time even laughs at him for dipping a chocolate chip cookie into nutella at lunch, isak says, “don’t fucking judge me baby you literally only make recipes with sour cream” magnus parrots “baby?? baBY??” jonas and mahdi are waggling their eyebrows so suggestively that isak blushes bright red. he tries to stutter out an excuse, like, “that’s not what i said. i said maybe?? KB?? bey bee?? haha i just like the concept of beyonce in the bee movie ok that’s totally what i meant.”
of course even ruins it all (because that’s all he’s good for) when the whole gang is getting kebab after school and isak can’t get his shit together because he didn’t really sleep last night and he’s spilling his food all over the table. even leans over with a pile of napkins and scoops it all up with a fond “baby” and a chaste kiss to the lips. the boys go fucking wild.
they always leave each other with a peck on the cheek before separating for classes - and as much as isak wants to pull even closer until they’re intertwined, until they’re causing a scene for those fucking dance chicks he can tell are watching them - he knows he’s not ready for that yet. it’s soft and sweet, just a brush of his lips as he whispers, “bye, baby, see you after school.” it still gives isak a rush when he remembers that even will keep coming back to him, and no matter how long they’ll spend apart - whether it’s school cockblocking them, or when even has bad days and refuses to let isak come over - they’ll always end up like this, safe in the circle of each other’s arms.
also thanks to @strangetowns i can’t get even’s obsession with sour cream out of my head
Ford leaned against the gates beside his brother. They were currently outside the gates of Wildwood Middle School, Piedmont, waiting to pick Dipper and Mabel up from school. They had arrived in California unannounced. They’d docked the Stan O’ War II over in Emeryville and had been picked up by Dipper and Mabel’s parents. Neither party had told the kids they were coming - it was a surprise. It was roughly two months into the school year and two months since the older Pines twins had first set sail on the Stan O’ War. They had decided to pay the kids a visit. Dipper and Mabel’s father, Jason, had been overjoyed to discover that his supposedly ‘dead’ Uncle Stanley was actually still alive and that Ford was here too. It had been a fairly tearful reunion on both parts - Ford had barely met his nephew before and he’d been elated to finally get to know him properly. The younger twins’ mother, Kristen, was really pleased to meet them too.
“What time did Kristen say the kids finished?” Ford looked over at Stan. “Three, wasn’t it?”
Stan checked his watch. “Yeah, they should have been out by now, surely.”
As if on cue, a loud bell rang out across the school grounds and a minute later kids started filing out, meeting up with their parents and friends and leaving. The older Pines twins scanned the sea of children for any sight of Mabel and/or Dipper. After five minutes, Mabel’s familiar cheery voice could be heard over the crowd. Stan and Ford stayed put, waiting for her to get closer. Mabel walked right past them, barely able to see them beyond the taller kids either side of her. She seemed to be looking for her parents.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called.
Mabel whirled round and gasped. A wide smile instantly spread across her face and she ran towards them. “GRUNKLE STAN! GRUNKLE FORD!” She exclaimed, running up to them and embracing both of them in tight hugs. “What are you doing here?!”
“Well, we were passing California and thought we’d come and visit you.” Ford was beaming, hugging her tightly. “We docked the boat over in Emeryville.”
“We couldn’t resist coming to see you,” Stan grinned, lifting Mabel up and embracing her tightly. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling.
“It’s so good to see you too! What’s the boat like? Have you found any monsters? Have you found any treasure?!”
“Relax, pumpkin,” Stan chuckled, setting Mabel back down again. “We’ll explain everything when we get home.”
“You’re staying with us?!” Ford didn’t think it was possible for Mabel’s smile to get any bigger, but he was proved wrong. “Really?!”
“Yep,” Ford grinned. “We’ll be staying in the spare room at your place,”
“How long will you be staying?”
“Dunno,” Stan shrugged. “Until your parents get fed up and kick us out.” He smirked.
Ford laughed. “That could either be in an hour or a month.”
“Dipper’s gonna be so happy to see you guys!” Mabel turned round, scanning the crowd for her twin. “When he eventually gets out.”
Ford stood on the tips of his toes to look over the heads of the parents in the crowd. For a moment, he was looking for the familiar blue and white pine tree cap, but then remembered the boy had traded hats with the ginger Mystery Shack employee (Wendy? Was that her name?) before they had left Gravity Falls. Sure enough, he soon spotted the boy amongst the crowd. “Dipper!”
Dipper perked up as he heard his name being called. He frowned. That couldn’t be who he thought it was, could it? No, they were out on the boat - That was until he saw Grunkle Ford’s head above those of the other parents. “Grunkle Ford!” He rushed forward, shoving kids out of the way.
A split second later, Ford had been tackled by the young boy. He laughed, scooping Dipper up into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Good to see you too!”
Dipper laughed, his deerstalker hat lying lopsided on his head, as he wrapped his arms around Ford. “What are you doing here?”
“We were sailing past California and decided to come and see you.” Ford grinned, putting Dipper down beside his sister. “We’ll be staying at your place for a little while.”
“Really?!” Dipper’s reaction mirrored his sister’s. “Wait… we?”
Stanley laughed. “Hey, where’s my hug?”
“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper ran over to the other man, hugging him equally as tightly. “You’re here too?!”
“Course. What, you thought Ford left me on the boat so he could see you all by himself?” Stan chuckled, hoisting Dipper up into his arms for a better hug. “No way was I staying put on the boat!”
“Come on, you guys!” Mabel grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards where the car was parked. “Let’s go! I’ve got so much cool stuff to show you!”
Ford laughed and looked over his shoulder at Stanley. “Yeah, Stan, come on! I can’t drive, remember?”
Stanley scoffed and put Dipper down, following his brother and Mabel over to where they’d parked their parents’ car (they’d borrowed the family Volvo). “Only because you forgot how to,”
Ford tried to look indignant, which was kind of difficult with a hyperactive thirteen-year-old clinging to his wrist. “Hey! It’s not my fault I didn’t drive for thirty or so years while I was lost!”
Stanley shoved his brother’s shoulder playfully as he caught up to them, Dipper by his side. “Yeah, I know, Poindexter. Those alien cars were too weird, huh?”
“Do you have any idea how difficult they are to steal - I mean operate?” Ford coughed.
Stanley burst out laughing. “You tried to steal one? My brother, Mr Couldn’t-Even-Take-Free-Samples? Didn’t that Sanchez guy ever lend you his car?”
“A) It was a ship, not a car,” Ford held up a finger. “And B) No, he was always the one driving.”
Stanley rolled his eyes as they got to the car. He climbed into the driver’s side. Ford went to open the passenger side door, but Mabel beat him to it. “I wanna sit up front!”
“No fair!” Dipper protested. “You had shotgun on the way here!”
“Did not. You’re lying,” Mabel stuck her tongue out at him.
Ford gently pushed Mabel out the way and stood in front of the door to the front passenger seat. “Right, how about I get shotgun privilege, since you can’t decide who gets it?”
“No!” Both of the younger twins cried in unison. “That’s not fair!”
“Grunkle Ford Mabel had it on the way here!” Dipper protested.
Ford shrugged. “Maybe I want to sit in the front seat for a change?”
Stanley was laughing. “Just sit in the front, Mabel.” he chuckled. “But Dipper gets shotgun on the next two trips, okay?”
Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper again and climbed into the front seat, dumping her school bag on the floor. “Thanks Grunkle Stan!”
Dipper pouted and got into the driver’s side rear seat. Ford sat next to him and pulled his seatbelt on. “It’s alright Dipper. You get shotgun next turn, anyway.”
Dipper smirked. “Okay,”
Stanley started the car and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Seatbelts on?”
“Yes!” The three passengers said simultaneously.
Stan looked in the mirror at his brother. “Was that really necessary?”
Ford crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yep, now would you just drive?”
Stanley rolled his eyes and put the car into gear before pulling out into the road and heading back towards the kids’ house. Ford leaned back in the seat, one arm around Dipper’s shoulders. Dipper leaned against him. “So,” Dipper said. “What’s the boat like?”
“It’s not bad, actually,” Stan said. “McGucket helped us with a lot of the construction, so as you can imagine it’s got a lot of tech built into it. He somehow managed to invent and then integrate a filtration system that filters all the crud and salt out of the seawater and then even heats it so we can have a functioning shower and taps and everything. That way we don’t have to make frequent stops at ports to have the water tanks refreshed.”
“He also hooked up fully functional solar panels so we could have a constant source of power,” Ford added. “He’s found a way to use the panels to charge a main battery in the boat so that we have power during rainy days too. There are several backup batteries on board too.”
“He even managed to set up a system so that we could have constant phone and internet signal.” Stan said. “The man’s a genius.”
“So you can, like, watch TV and stuff while you’re on the boat?” Dipper grinned. “That’s awesome.”
“Well, no, on account of the fact that we don’t have a television on board,” Ford pointed out. “As much as Stanley wanted to have one, it would use far too much power. We each have a laptop, though, and plenty of books.”
“What! No TV?” Mabel gasped. “How on Earth can you manage without TV?”
Ford laughed. “That’s what Stanley said, but he’s been just fine so far.”
“So far,” Stan emphasised. “Trust me, I’m slowly going insane on that boat what with Ford’s incessant rambling.”
“I do not ramble!” Ford said indignantly. “I have perfectly meaningful conversations with myself!”
“First sign of madness - talking to yourself.” Stan pointed out. “Face it, Poindexter, you’re losing it.”
Ford laughed. “Of course I’m insane if I spent the last two months stuck on a boat with you.”
Stanley glared in the mirror at his brother, only causing Ford to laugh again. “You know I can still throw you overboard in your sleep.”
“I can swim,” Ford crossed his arms. “Plus, I know you wouldn’t throw me over.”
“Could we see the boat?” Mabel asked. “It sounds really cool!”
“Of course! We could take you down after dinner, if you wanted,” Stan offered as he pulled into the driveway. The kids immediately jumped out and ran up to the front door. Ford climbed out, soon followed by his brother. Stanley locked the car and followed the kids up to the front door. Dipper unlocked the door and let them in.
“Mom! Dad! We’re home!” He called.
“Why didn’t you tell us Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford would be here?!” Mabel demanded as her mother came out of the kitchen.
Kristen laughed. “It was meant to be a surprise! They arrived a couple of hours ago.”
Mabel turned and glared at Stan, smirking slightly. “So you told them you were coming but you didn’t tell us?!”
Stan put his hands up in defence, grinning. “Hey, you were happy to see us, weren’t you?”
There was a snort from the kitchen before a small pink blur knocked Stan over and started licking his face. The man laughed and lifted the pig off his chest. “Good to see you too Waddles.”
Ford knelt down and gave the pig an affection scratch behind the ear. Waddles snorted happily before trotting off into the living room. Ford stood back up straight and looked at Kristen. “So you weren’t particularly against having a pig in the house?”
“No, he’s surprisingly well trained,” Kristen looked to where the pig was settling down into a small dog bed. “No mess and he barely leaves hair anywhere.”
Dipper grabbed Ford’s hand and started dragging him towards the stairs. “C’mon Grunkle Ford you gotta see our bedroom!”
“Hold on Dipper,” Ford laughed. “Let me take my shoes off first.” Dipper waited all of thirty seconds while Ford removed his shoes before dragging him up the stairs again. Mabel dragged Stan upstairs too. The kids showed Stan and Ford all their schoolwork, pictures, projects and everything they’d been doing since they left Gravity Falls. Dipper showed Ford a journal he’d been writing in, similar to Ford’s own journals, and Mabel showed Stan all the new sweaters she’d knitted. She presented both of her grunkles with a new sweater each. Ford’s was a deep navy blue with a golden six-fingered hand embroidered on the front. Stan’s was dark red with his ‘Order of the Holy Mackerel’ logo on the front.
At about five o’clock, Kristen called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!”
Mabel and Dipper instantly dropped whatever they had been holding and rushed downstairs. Ford and Stan followed them. They sat down at the large dining table in the kitchen just as Kristen was setting down plates of lasagne portions in front of the kids. She gave another plate each to Stan, Ford and her husband before taking her own and sitting down.
“So,” Kristen started. “What sort of things do you eat on the boat?”
“Dried and canned things, mostly,” Ford said. “We’ve got a freezer on board, so we can have frozen meat, veg and fish too, but nothing anywhere near as good as this,” he placed a forkful of lasagna in his mouth.
Stan was wolfing down his food at a rapid pace and nodded. Ford whacked his shoulder. “Stan! Eat properly, not like a pig!”
Waddles gave an indignant snort, causing the family to chuckle. Stan swallowed. “I’m not that bad!”
“At least chew your food, don’t inhale it.” Ford rolled his eyes and kept eating. He looked across the table at the kids. “How was school?”
Dipper seemed to go quiet as Mabel instantly burst into a speech about everything she’d done. “Well, first off in Chemistry we got to make crystals, then in Biology we dissected a kidney, then in Art we got to draw any creature we wanted - I drew Waddles, obviously, and Dipper drew a gnome - then in English we had to write a short story, then in -”
Ford seemed to zone out to what Mabel was saying, more focused on Dipper. The boy had his hands folded in his lap and his head was down, his dinner sitting on the table forgotten. He kept clenching his eyes shut and wiping them with the back of his hand. Ford cleared his throat and put his fork down. “Dipper? How was your day?”
Dipper seemed startled by the question, rubbing his eyes furiously. “Oh, it was… it was fine. Kind of boring, really,”
Ford frowned as the boy kept eating, albeit slowly. He decided not to press the issue any further at the dinner table. Mabel was still excitedly telling her parents all about the story she had written in English. Once they had all finished eating and the kids were excused from the table, Dipper went straight back upstairs. Ford heard him slam the bedroom door shut. Mabel, however, frowned and went into the living room and began watching TV. Waddles trotted after her and sat on the floor in front of the couch.
Ford rose from the table. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, tucking his chair in and heading upstairs to the kids’ room. He knocked on the door gently. “Dipper?”
Ford heard sniffling from behind the door, before a quiet “Come in,” was heard. The man turned the doorknob and let himself in. Dipper was sat on his bed cross-legged and wiping his eyes. Ford closed the door quietly behind him and sat beside the boy.
“Care to tell me what’s wrong?”
Dipper stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “.. have you ever felt like no matter what, people are still really mean to you, even if they don’t know you?”
Ford bit his lip and weighed his options. He could approach this question in several different ways. He could ask why Dipper felt this way, give a quick laugh and assure the boy that he had, or reassure Dipper that he was a perfectly wonderful young man who didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting. He opted for the straightforward answer. “Yes, unfortunately these -” He held up his hands and moved his extra fingers “- meant that, without even getting to know me first, my classmates treated me horribly.”
Dipper nodded, quietly avoiding Ford’s concerned gaze. He wrung his hands in his lap, biting his lip nervously. “Right… should have guessed that…”
Ford laid a hand on Dipper’s shoulder gently. “Trouble with kids at school?”
The boy nodded, tears stinging his eyes again. “Yeah, they keep picking on me, and calling me mean names,”
“Can I ask what?” Ford asked gently.
“Dipshit, dipstick, starboy and… uh…” Dipper bit his lip harder, almost enough to draw blood. “Freak,”
Ford felt an icy chill go down his spine. He was more than used to hearing others call himself a freak, but to learn that Dipper was also on the receiving end of such insults was sickening. His grip on the boy’s shoulder tightened momentarily. He loosened his grip, pulling Dipper closer to sit in his lap. He shuffled back on the bed, sitting up against the wall. “Di - Mason, can I tell you something?”
Dipper, still unused to hearing his real name from anyone other than his parents, took a moment to answer. “Yeah,”
Ford swallowed and took a deep breath. “When I was growing up, between the ages of four and eighteen, I had a similar experience to yourself. People took one look at my hands and decided that, as I was different, I should be punished. At every opportunity, I was insulted, shouted at, shoved, punched, kicked, beaten and I was frequently the primary target in food fights. After a while, I’d had enough” He held his left hand out in front of Dipper. “See that scar?”
Dipper held Ford’s hand in both of his own, looking at the thin scar running across the knuckle of his sixth finger. “Yeah,”
Ford took another deep breath. “I was fifteen when I did that. I locked myself in the bathroom one evening with a knife and attempted to remove my finger. I thought that maybe, if I got rid of the extra fingers, I could be normal. People would stop picking on me and I could finally get along with my peers.” His hand was shaking slightly, his voice beginning to crack. The memory was still painful. “I was a fool, and if hadn’t been for Stanley, I would have succeeded. He broke the door down and brought me straight to a hospital. He made it absolutely clear to me that removing my extra fingers was not the solution. It took me thirty years drifting through all sorts of interdimensional horror to realise that.”
Dipper was quiet, his mind processing everything that Ford had said. He hadn’t expected his great uncle to confess something like that. His thumb ran absentmindedly back and forth across Ford’s scar. “I sometimes wear make-up,” he eventually said. “To cover up my birthmark. I use Mom’s foundation. That’s why I always used to wear my pine tree hat, ‘cause it pushed my hair down over my forehead so nobody would see it.” The boy turned around so he was sitting facing Ford. “I don’t like wearing makeup, but it’s the only thing that stops them laughing at me. They laugh at me for wearing makeup, too,”
Ford sighed quietly, pulling Dipper into a hug. He laid his chin on top of Dipper’s head. “It’s tough,” he said quietly. “Especially when it’s not something like a person’s weight, which can be altered with some effort.”
He felt Dipper tremble in his arms and felt something wet seeping into the top of his shirt. He stroked Dipper’s back gently. “It’s okay… shh… it’s okay…”
Dipper laid his cheek against Ford’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Ford lifted his sleeve to dry the boy’s tears. Ford ran all six of his fingers through his nephew’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, Mason. I know your classmates’ behaviour may tell you otherwise, but the biggest supporter of you is yourself.” He kissed the top of Dipper’s head gently. “You’ve always got Mabel too. You’ve always got your twin by your side, which is more than can be said for some people.”
Dipper nodded, wiping his nose on a tissue. “Yeah, I guess. She’s got so many friends, though. I don’t want to be a burden on her.”
Ford squeezed Dipper’s hand. “I felt the same way when I was at school. My brother had the potential to have a lot of friends, but he constantly spent his time keeping bullies away from me. He could have been very popular if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was protecting me. But let me tell you something: he wouldn’t change his actions for the world. You can ask him - he doesn’t regret any of it. I’m sure Mabel would be more than happy to spend time with you.”
Dipper smiled. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”
Ford smiled. He turned Dipper round to face him. “Besides, I’m sure you remember some of those curses from the journals. If people continue to give you trouble, have at it.”
Dipper laughed and hugged his uncle. “Thanks Grunkle Ford, seriously.”
Ford hugged him back and ruffled his hair. “No problem. Now, what do you say we got and get some ice cream from the parlour down the road?”
Dipper smiled and got to his feet, pulling Ford up off the bed. “Sure.”
He stretches the truth when he knows it’ll be to his advantage. He flatout lies when he thinks the truth will upset someone more than he’s willing to deal with.
So when he offhandedly invites Jensen and Jared to his rented house for the duration of filming the season 12 finale, he doesn’t expect them to take him up on the offer until after he’s already told them it’s a four-bedroom house.
It’s not a four-bedroom house.
The downstairs consists of a cramped living room with a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, a small kitchen with enough counter space for exactly one cutting board and a sitting area with a wooden table and three chairs instead of four. The upstairs is one hallway with a master bedroom on one end and a much smaller bedroom on the other end. The spare bedroom barely has enough space for a full-sized bed. There’s one bathroom upstairs, between the bedrooms.
“Uh, you sure this is the right place?” Jensen asks as he sets his duffel bag down on the small couch in the living room.
“I might’ve…stretched the truth a bit,” Misha replies sheepishly.
Jensen turns to him, hands planted on his hips, unimpressed glare on his face. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”
As Misha opens his mouth to respond, the door bangs open and Jared comes in with a whistle.
“Wow, Misha,” Jared says as he looks around the small room. “This is as awesome as you hyped it up to be.”
“I never said it was glamorous.”
“You also didn’t say it was the size of a broom closet,” Jared replies as he throws his stuff on top of Jensen’s. “Where are we sleeping?”
Jensen and Misha share a look before both turning back toward Jared. Misha says, “We can worry about that after work tonight I guess.”
this friendly Nova guy here? That’s Rhomann Dey, the one guy who arrested Peter
multiple times in the past, was fully aware of Peter’s upbringing as a Ravager
and his life as an Outlaw, but still laughed at Peter’s cheeky attitude,
conversed rather friendly with him and believed him when Peter wanted to help
actually headcanon that Dey was one of the very first officer to ever arrest
Peter – back when Peter was still a child – and he just developed a soft spot
for the cheeky, rude child.
Hey, after so many requested the second part. Here is it! I have to admit that’s the first text I have ever written, which contained sexual content. So, I am sorry because I am also a virgin. I hope you will like it! ♥
Pairing: FP Jones x Female!Reader
Warning: Sexual content, huge age gap, and green-eyed monster
Ever since Bendy had discovered invisible ink, no one had been safe. The studio had thought the little demon was a prankster before, but now he could literally turn invisible. This led to him playing pranks he normally wouldn’t have been able to get away with, such as stealing Joey’s glasses as he was using them, messing up the band during rehearsal, stealing Alice’s halo while she sang. His favorite person to prank though, was always Sammy Lawrence. The music director was notoriously high strung so it was easy as pie to get a reaction out of him. Bendy’s favorite prank was to stand by Sammy’s radio and turn it off while Sammy was listening to it. This would lead to at least a half an hour of Sammy turning the radio back on, Bendy turning it off, and the cycle repeating again until either the ink wore off or Sammy started throwing things. The latter was generally more likely. It was almost a weekly occurance to see an almost imperceptible blur running out of Sammy’s office while the music director screamed obscenities It was how the studio members judged Bendy’s stress level. If he was pranking Sammy, it meant he was in a generally good mood.
Now, Sammy was getting pretty fucking tired of being messed with, so he decided to concoct a plan of revenge. He took Bendy’s bottle of invisible ink and mixed clear glue into it. That would show the little bastard. All he had to do now was wait. It didn’t take long for Bendy to get in the mood and when the demon drank the ink, Sammy was waiting. Bendy put down the bottle and rubbed his hands together as he disappeared from sight. Sammy could still make out a vague outline as Bendy began to move towards his office. Bendy’s hand closed around the knob and he let himself in. However, a problem arose when he tried to let go of the doorknob. His hand held firm, even as he shook and pulled. Soon he had his feet up on the door to pull, which only led to them getting stuck as well.
“SAMMY!” He yelled. Sammy sauntered into view, looking quite pleased with himself.
“I can play pranks too, shitlips.” He said, smirking.
“Sammy, get me off here!” Bendy yelled. “Right now!”
“If I do that I’m gonna be stuck too. So no thanks.” Sammy said, turning away. “Don’t worry, it’ll probably wear off once the ink does. See ya tomorrow, boss.”
“SAMMY DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME HERE! SAMMY! SAMMY LAWRENCE DON’T YOU WALK AWAY!”
Sammy whistled as he made his way up the stairs and out of the music department. After that, Bendy didn’t play pranks on Sammy anymore. He didn’t even go near the music department for an entire month. When he did, he was wary of Sammy. Slowly though, things began to return to normal. But Bendy never played a prank on Sammy again. He knew what would happen if he did.
The trouble with approaching your relationship the same way you approached your at-times contentious friendship is that apparently, no one realizes you’re actually dating. Or else Enjolras and Grantaire just have the absolute most oblivious of friends.
I’m so used to the “everyone except Enjolras and Grantaire knows they like each other” trope, so this one was really fun to read!
Grantaire really doesn’t expect Enjolras to force him to move in with him when he hears how shitty Grantaire’s apartment is. And he definitely doesn’t expect Enjolras to want him to stay, or how easy it turns out to be, or the way Enjolras has a habit of doing his studying in the sunshine on the living room floor …
Yeah, he may be in some trouble.
Everything. Everything about this. SO GOOD (ps there’s some smut at the very end, just in case you’re not into that)
In which Grantaire and Enjolras take a very long time to actually say those three special words, but if you pay attention, the words are there.
Love love love love love. I felt super content (in an “I’m wrapped up in a warm blanket sitting in front of a fire on a cold winter’s day” way) after reading this and honestly that’s one of the best feelings to have after reading a fic (for me personally)
In the almost four years that Enjolras had known his friends, he always managed to avoid ice skating with them. This was very purposeful. It had to be. After all, they lived in the Northeast, so plenty of opportunities arose for him to go ice skating. He just never took advantage of them. Because Enjolras had a secret. A dark, terrible secret.
Given how nosy and internet savvy his friends were, it was kind of a miracle that only Combeferre and Courfeyrac knew about his past.
But it was time.
(Or the Amis go ice-skating and find out a surprising truth about Enjolras.)
Ok I had to include this one on here too because when I was rereading it just now, it kinda reminded me of Yuri on Ice and that made me happy sooo :)
Reaper x reader where the smol reader steals his clothes a lot?
I did this pre fall, hope that works for you anon! Hopefully Reaper’s voice came out okay–I’m still working on figuring out his pre-fall character.
Gabe had never offered you anything to wear, even when you pretended to be cold. You weren’t sure if it was because he knew that you weren’t cold, or his attitude was real. All you would usually get from him was a “Shoulda been more prepared, Y/N,” with a chuckle. Suffice to say, you never got him to offer you a jacket or even a glove.
So resorting to stealing his stuff? That was his own fault. One evening while he slept next to you you managed to sneak out of bed and grab his grey hoodie, throwing it over your head with a hushed giggle. He didn’t even stir when you climbed back into bed, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling close. By the time you woke he was gone, something you were used to.
However he had somehow managed to steal his sweater back, leaving you in nothing but a tank top to cover your torso. It had freaked you out a little to know he’d gotten a sweater over your head without you noticing, but it only fueled your fire.
The next time you slept in his room you stole his boxers. But again you woke without them. Frustrated and feeling like this had become a contest, you found his hoodie slung over a chair by his desk. You quickly dressed and grabbed it, making sure to throw it on before you left; this time he wasn’t going to get it back while you slept.
You marched to his office, barely anyone giving you a glance knowing exactly who you were. The boss’s s/o was never questioned; you could walk pretty much anywhere without anyone batting an eyelash at you. But while you had a strange amount of power over those in Overwatch, you didn’t over your boyfriend. So when you came to his office door you knocked and waited for him to say, “Come in.”
You entered, keeping your steps light and shutting the door behind you. He looked up at you and you thought you caught him wince. But he quickly grabbed a piece of paper and stood, walking over to a filing cabinet in the corner, his back to you.
“Hey Gabe,” you said, remaining as cool as possible. “What’s up?”
His grey hoodie hit you just below your shorts, giving the image of wearing no pants beneath. You tucked your hands into the front pockets, cozy and warm in his sweater; you just wished he got a similar feeling when seeing you in his clothes.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” he asked, still refusing to turn around. You heare papers shuffle as he searched through the files.
“No,” you replied, voice low. You walked over to him, ensuring your footsteps were loud but he still didn’t turn. You poked your head to the side, trying to get him to look at you but he only looked the other way. You shuffled to the other side, and again he looked away. “Why won’t you look at me?”
“I’m…looking for a file,” he said. His fingers fumbled through the papers before him, drawing your attention. “I’m busy right now so we’ll have to talk later carino.”
You almost believed him, but something in your tone irked you. So instead of leaving you used your height to an advantage and weaselled your way under his elbow, forcing yourself between him and the cabinet. Popping up, you pressed your back against the drawer and shut it with a loud slam.
“Why are your cheeks so dark?” you asked. Gabe bit the inside of his cheeks, trying to turn away when you grabbed his face and made him look at you. And there, along his cheeks, you saw something you weren’t even aware he was capable of. You squealed. “Are you blushing?”
He huffed at you, grabbed your wrists and lowering them, twisting his neck to look away. Thankfully he didn’t try to run, and kept hold of you. Finally, his eyes glanced down at you, slowly moving down your body before meeting your gaze again.
“How many?” he asked.
You pressed your palms flat against his chest. “What?”
“How many people saw you come here…dressed like that?” Again, he looked down at the hoodie that covered most of you body.
You shrugged. “A few. Why? You embarrassed that people can actually see I’m your s/o?”
Hurt and anger swelled in your stomach. Was that why he always took his clothes back? Or didn’t kiss you in public? He was fine if people knew you were together but seeing it was something completely different? You pulled out of his grip and crossed your arms, looking down at his chest as a lump in your throat formed. Of all the things you thought about your relationship, every doubt that would wriggle into your mind, him being embarrassed of you was not one of them.
“No no no, carino,” he said quickly, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. He pressed his forehead to yours eyes closed as he sighed. His breath was warm against your skin, and you had to stop yourself from kissing him then. “I…cannot have you wearing my clothes.”
“Why?” You let your arms fall to your sides.
“Because I cannot stop from…” He let out a huff of a sigh. “I cannot control myself when I look at you in them.”
Your own cheeks warmed. Looking up at him now you could see he was still flustered.
He continued, “It’s not…professional.”
A giggle escaped your lips, making him pull back and look at you.
“Sorry,” you said, “that’s just…really cute. So you do like when I wear your things?”
With a small smile he let his eyes slowly take in the sweater you wore, lingering on your exposed legs. “I like it when it isn’t a surprise.”
“Well you never offered so I had to resort to alternative methods.”
Gabe’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him. He leaned down and took your lips into a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands gripping his biceps as you pressed onto your toes.
“I’ll make you a deal, carino,” he said when he pulled away. “If you stop stealing my clothes and walking down the hallway like this…” One hand slid down the curve of your ass before he pulled at the hem of your shorts. “I will give you anything you want to wear when we are in private.”
“And you’ll stop taking them off while I’m sleeping?” you clarified.
He grinned. “I can’t guarantee I won’t take them off while you’re awake, but yes. I will steal nothing back.”
“Deal,” you agreed.
“Ah, you know how we seal deals,” he said, leaning down again. “With a kiss.”
warnings: swearing, talking about death/suicide, etc
summary: connor did take someone to the orchard once… but it wasn’t evan.
a/n: is this unoriginal? yes. is this bad? yes. is this the only thing i have written because i have a drama performance i still have to memorize lines for on thursday and exams all week next week? yes. but either way… have this??? enjoy???
From Connor Murphy,
To Connor Murphy, 9:18
considering im not two
years old, yes, im awake
From Connor Murphy,
I need to leave my
To Connor Murphy, 9:21
okay well i may be
awake but im still tired
From Connor Murphy,
R u kidding me?
To Connor Murphy, 9:24
nah im just joking im
down. u gonna pick me up?
From Connor Murphy,
Ill go steal the keys
from dad. Be ready in 10
To Connor Murphy, 9:31
Connor had a terrible track record for stealing the keys and
sneaking out after dark.
What a coincidence that Harry said he wrote Sweet Creature a few days after his birthday yesterday, right?
The sassy boyfriends celebrated with RBB/SBB eating cake (the last photo of them, I think?) on Harry’s birthday, and Harry indirected Taylor in his tweet, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22.”
Freddie’s birth had been announced. BG was in serious mode. There was no end in sight. One could tell from Harry’s tweets (Flowers all round, Beach don’t steal my vibe) and IG posts, an unambiguous fury and frustration. Harry posted the IG photo of a boxer on 2-7-2016:
Harry must have written “Sweet Creature” with a bittersweet emotion… and now to be able to perform it live, with everything they’ve been through this past year, must feel good in a way. It’s public declaration of love and resilience.