#I have to stop myself here before I'll start saying some depressing shit-

[lonely-moon-artist-blog]

I'm sorry.

I had an idea of drawing like A LOT OF CHARACTERS in one art piece. It was a great idea like..

I think it was.

But then I looked at the time and it was almost none left-

Even if I was like preparing for this day before I still didn't do much??

Eh so um. Yeah I did this.

.. I don't know how the creator of this au will feel about this even. I just hope that they won't be mad.

<Also like.. If I'm using the wrong pronouns PLEASE TELL ME OR ELSE I'M GOING TO CRINGE UP AND DIE IN A PIT->

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[karlachismylife]

Wrote the intro the day I started this work and decided to leave it since it reflects the shitstorm in my head quite well, eh.

Okay Idk what it is with me today (I actually do know, I'm having a bad fucking night as a consequence of my own actions but I prefer not to think about it), but I just thought about task force 141 and reader that has such a bad withdrawal after their orgasm that they actually cry and not in a fun way (cue my lack of understanding how crying in bed can ever be fun, but i'm not here to kinkshame)

CW: NSFW (so minors and ageless blogs DNI, I'll block you), but there's barely any sex, hurt/comfort, body image issues, low self-esteem, chubby/fat!reader, written with afab!reader in mind (but most parts can be read as gn), potential mental health issues (?), thoughts of selfloathing and selfharm, smoking mentioned once at the end. Very self-indulgent and I'm definitely unwell, so yeah. It's also more focused on reader's inner shitstorm than the guys in many places so idk if this even really is enjoyable...

Starts as a single piece, then splits into individual blurbs/drabbles/oneshots + some polyamory cuz I'm spoiling myself today having done nothing to deserve it, lol.

They vary in size and tone since I've been writing them through several ups and downs in my own mental state, so please don't take this as a sign of which characher/combo is my favourite. I'm greedy, I like everything.

This is unfair.

Like, you just had wonderful sex, probably came more than once in a short period of time, ears stuffed with cotton, limbs weak, head spinning... and it keeps spinning, sweet tingling on the skin turning into nasty rushes of cold, muscles too tense, but it's not a cramp.

You feel like shit, every possible hormonal and neuromediator crash downing on you, a hollow, depressing weight in your chest instead of a sweet afterglow. Sweat and cum feel disgusting on you skin, your skin feels disgusting, strangling, your whole body seems revolting, too heavy, too sluggish. A sticky, suffocating heatwave on your nape, but your chest is cold and covered in goosebumps, a feverish feeling clogging every pore. Nausea wrenches into your stomach and stops just before you can relievingly barf and get rid of this parasite inside.

You simply want to dig your nails into your own shoulders instead of his and rip the skin and meat off, free yourself from this burden (you're the burden). Each second as he stays blissfully unaware, holding you tightly with his big hands and panting into the crook of your neck, drags on like a hundred hours of pure torture - the torture of being yourself.

Throwing up feels like an appropriate reaction to how unappealing and ugly you feel.

You're spiraling. You couldn't fucking keep your own messed up emotional outburst - completely unreasonable and unprovoked, by the way - to yourself, and now it's going to be noticed. You'll ruin someone else's fun. Make it all about yourself when you've already been nothing but doted on, cared and provided for. Fucked so good that your body is still clenching around that magnificent cock deep inside you.

And you're fucking crying, like an ungrateful, egotistical brat. Never having enough, unable to provide something as simple as a hole to make someone else happy without fucking it up.

Ghost notices immediately. There's nothing that can escape this man, and definitely not his love's distress. He's not reacting immediately for a sole reason: he's frozen in fear, horrified that he made you cry. How - he's not sure, he always takes great care to stay within limits, never allows himself to push you further than you both agree on. But what if he slipped up? What if he got carried away? Did he cause pain? Did he say something hurtful in the heat of the moment?

"Fuck. Hey, hey, lovie... look at me... wha's wrong? Did I... did I hurt ya?" Good thing you're hiding your face and your red eyes so desperately that you can't see how distressed and downright terrified Simon looks, lost at the sight of your tears. When you shake your head and attempt to push him away to hide your pathetic sobbing, he somewhat calms down and brings his big calloused hands to cradle your face, gently prying your own palms away and holding your puffy cheeks tenderly. His thumbs brush your tears away as he holds you, holds you through the growing rage fit of touch aversion, through the shudders and actual wailing. At some point he moves his palm to cover your eyes, a dry, dark blinder to keep the world around you shut out, help you concentrate on his voice.

He's not talking, just humming, a familiar, deep, grumbling noise that soothes all the flashes of anger, hate and disgust in your brain. You're tired now, like you're always are after such an intense outburst, and as you go limp, he finally pulls away, only to pick you up - barely a strain, a direct spit in the face of your own insecurity - and bring you to the bathroom. A warm shower evens your distorted body temperature out, his hands running over your body and cleaning all the stickiness away bring back peace with your own skin. After a quick rinse Simon holds you, your head cradled against his chest, until you make a weak attempt to help him wash too - he lets you trace his body, that perfection you adore with all its old wounds, sores and scars, for a bit, and then finishes himelf.

Gives you fresh cotton underwear and his hige T-shirt, still holding you around your shoulders and keeping the comfortable pressure even while he changes the bedsheets, kissing your temple as you find it in yourself to help.

It's only after you settle on top of him, nice, clean comforter protecting your back against the world, head on his chest right next to his heart beating in a steady rythm, he finally breaks silence.

"Need anything else, lovie?" Just like that. No prying, no occusations, nothing that would put you on the spot. You can ask him to bring you the moon soaked in unicorn's milk, and he'll just nod, kiss your hand and start dressing up, already calling Johnny to ask where the fuck did Scots hide their last horned horse and if he happens to know where they enlist astronauts.

"Just you."

His grip on the small of your back tightens and you feel his uneven, scarred lips graze the top of your head.

"Ya've got me. Always."

Soap is running hot like a furnace, still shivering and panting after what he considers the best sex he has ever had (every time with you is). He lifts his face, buried into the crease of your neck previously, and starts peppering you with slightly sloppy, grateful kisses - your neck, your jaw, your lips, your...

When he tastes your tears and opens his unbelievably blue eyes to see your expression contorted in disgust, he panics. Pulls away immediately, hands both itching to grab you and shake a reason for that look on your face out of you and too scared to touch you in case this hatred is directed at him.

"Whit's wrong, leannan? Are ye a'right? Ye didnae lik' it? Shite, lass, Ah'm so sorry, Ah didnae mean tae-" He stops yapping only when he notices the way your lips tremble as you try to plead with him, sobbing that it's not his fault.

"'M sorry, I ruined it... I'm so sorry, sushine, I just... fuck I wish I wasn't so bloody sick in the head and ugly..." Speaking out loud only worsens your anger, directed solely at yourself, and you try to wipe your eyes furiously. As the tears keep rolling, your frustration only grows - maybe if you yanked your own hair really good or slapped the disgusting pudgy cheek you've despised ever since chidhood as everyone kept pointing out how big they were...

"Ye didnae just call the love of mah fucking life ugly." Johnny's voice is a mix of a harsh order to cut your bullshit and pure disbelief. His huge paws wrap themselves around your wrists, stopping you both from harming yourself and covering your face. You're forced to look at him, and as you do, you see his handsome face flushed with a passionate anger at the intrusive thoughts in your head, heavy frown in his thick eyebrows and the sea in his eyes dark and deep enough to drown a whole fleet. You'd be scared if it wasn't obvious how hurt he is underneath it all - like a kid whose favourite plushie just got mocked by his classmates.

"It's just a toy," adults would say, and they would be bloody wrong.

"Tis not a toy, tis mah friend."

You're his friend. His love. His heart, his soul, his everything - he whispers that frantically, kissing you over and over, hot palms running over your body, wiping the cold, the stickiness, the goosebumps away. You don't have time to think, to spiral again, you're drowning in that exact sea that's spilling from his eyes, staring at you with pure devotion - a sea of affection, admiration, love, love, love.

Johnny nuzzles up to you like an animal seeking comfort, hides into your chest, right after he kisses your sweaty double chin, breathes in deeply, lets go of your soft shoulders only to grab two handfuls of your tummy, kneading it, warming up the stale blood, squeezing your big thighs between his and getting lost in the frenzy - he honestly doesn't even remember already that he was comforting you, he's fully in the worshipping mode, leaving you no chance to dip even a single toe into the self-conscious thoughts again.

You'll just have to stay there, every single tear lapped up from your face, and accept every greedy touch and word of a man utterly in love with you. Even the messed up parts.

Gaz keeps his cool despite how distraught even the thought of your sadness makes him. First of all he moves aside to give you space, makes sure you're not hurt, asking in his usual kind - unbelievably kind, so much that you burst into tears again, feeling undeserving of such unapologetically soft treatement, tone.

"Shh, shush, gorgeous, you're not hurt, are you? It's okay, c'mere, jus-st like tha', very good, love," praises keep spilling from his tender lips as he carefully helps you sit up, simply dragging you away from the damp from sweat and everything else spot on the sheets. He ends up balancing half his bare ass off the edge of the bed, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest as he feels you already coming back from that hopeless place as soon as your body gets stuck between clean, dry and a bit cool sheet and Kyle's firm lean body of a litearal god - or a prince, at least.

His deft fingers are already at work, massaging your scalp, chasing the tension away, but the second he feels you grow uncomfortable with the repetitive movement, he stops and retreats to simply holding you in a steady, reliant embrace. You know he's good with his words, that's how he got you, swept off your feet completely and made you swoon with sweet compliments, hilarious snark and smart talk.

You just don't expect him to do it all over again in the face of your burdened mind crumbling in the paradise.

"Talk to me, angel. Let me inside that pretty head, hm?"

It takes this sweettalker just a couple of words to coax whatever that ugly, slimy knot in your throat is, out. You sob, retelling Kyle every single thought that has been stuck in that coagulated mess in your head, spill the bile that has been burning your retching throat, out in the open, for him to see the disgusting ugliness of your insides - matching your outside.

Somehow throughout your choking trade his soft, careful hand never leaves your back, rubbing circles of different radius and intensity into your skin to keep the aggression at monotonous touch at bay.

"Must've been some terrible person to overbear your spirit and plant all those lies in your mind, angel." You don't catch the meaning of his words at first, glancing at him confused and whoozy after you exploded with self-deprication. Those dark, calm eyes look at you no different than before: quiet, calm reverence and determination. A thread of spider's silk, thin as a hair, but stronger than steel, his love does not waver. Were you in the right state to actually pay attention, you would've seen it only grow.

"Well, beautiful, this isn't how I planned to start writing poetry, but since you insisted... maybe I can think of a diss track about you."

"A diss track?.." Poor you, so upset that you can't catch onto the mischievous glint in his eyes and that silly smooth sarcasm slipping into his words. You're actually half a step away from believing he would diss you, destroying that already non-existent self-esteem once and for all.

"Yup. Gotta diss-tract you from all that bullshit in your head for good. Unless you'd rather me fuck it out of you instead?"

You cannot not smile at that, even if it's a weak, timid smile. Kyle's face still lights up as if he sees an actual angel, bringing the good grace or whatever.

"There ya go. First step of the mission? Success. Permission to continue? I repeat, permission to continue?"

"You spend too much time with Simon. Permission granted..."

Price undrstands what's going on before he even hears your first sob, the tension in your body and the change in your breath telling him all he needs to know. There's enough experience in this man for the both of you, he has learnt to read people and immediately accomodate them in a way that serves a common goal so long ago that it's a secong nature already.

Your comfort is that common goal.

With a grunt, he rolls you over, planting you firmly on top of his warm, burly body. Untucking your head from his hairy chest, he holds your face and does not let you concentrate on anything but his stern, focued gaze under those bushy eyebrows - but there's still that undeniable tenderness in his eyes that's always there whenever John looks at you.

His voice sounds usual too: a calm, commanding, but not harsh tone, not a loud bark any of his subordinates would hear, yet still an order. "Look at me, darling. Tha's right, look at me, look at your John. You shut whatever's going through that troubled mind of yours out and let me take care of the rest, a'right? Can you do that for me, darling? I know you can. I'll do all the thinking for ya, eh?"

Giving control over to him feels natural at any other moment, but right now you're too deep in the trenches of the war with your own mind, hissing at you with pure disgust for being so selfish. Really, now? Had to use this sweet, caring man for your own needs, and now you're dumping all your perverted, fucked up baggage on him too?

"Nuh-huh, ya're still thinking. Told ya to cut if off. You know that's not you thinking right now, dontcha? You're a smart one, love, ya know shit like this happens. And when shit happens, who are you going to to deal with it, huh?" His deep voice rumbles in his chest, seeps into your clogged ears, fills your skull with the unyielding determination and leaves no room for your own dark thoughts.

When you hesitate to answer, John slides his rough palms over your back, tracing your soft rolls and landing onto the pudge of your hips, squeezing lightly to remind you who's in charge and what your task is. "Who is there for ya to deal with shit that happens, hm, darling? Need ya to tell me."

You want to hide, escape his demand for an answer, but he keeps you firmly in his embrace, a gaze of steel unmoving from you. It almost makes you tear up again, almost feels mean of him to put you on the spot, when all you want to do is curl up in a dark corner and stay there for all eternity. But the love you have for this man overpowers even the seething hatred you bear for yourself, so you give up and murmur meekly: "You..."

"Tha's right, darling, it's your John. I'm here to deal with everything that bothers ya. Everything, ya hear? Tha's me job. Your job is to stay wit' me 'n' not overthink, eh? Especially not when it's just hormons making ya feel bad." You have nothing else left to do, other than sniffle into his chest and melt under a warm kiss he plants on your crown. "How about a cuppa, eh, darling? And something just as sweet as ya for a bite. Ya'll feel better in no time, I promise."

Ghost and Soap cancel each other's panicking out. As soon as both you and Simon slip out of the sweet afterglow, falling backwards each into your own pit of self-doubt and spiraling, Johnny starts babbling, terrified at the thought of both his beloved people feeling worse after being with him. His slurred, panting words and frantic kisses help Simon shake of his own horror - in return, he squeezes Johnny's shoulder to slow the worried mutt down and redirect his energy into helping you. Soap tenses up under the firm touch of his Lieutenant, then relaxes again, leaning into him for a moment to collect himself - they charge from each other, mere seconds of feeding off each other's energies in the middle of a time-limited mission with the highest stakes: your well-being.

They exchange glances, no words needed after the way their work together almost makes them mindreaders to each other, and turn back to you as you lay there, face painfully contorted in an attempt to keep the black foamy bile you feel rising in your throat from spilling. Slow, sticky, angry tears run down your flabby cheeks, and with each millimetre they go, your scalding wish to gouge your eyes out with your bare hands grows, just to punish yourself for being ungrateful after two perfect men spent so much of their time making you feel good.

"Dinnae cry, bonnie. Ye're a'right, ye're 'ere, wit' us. Right, LT? We're nae gonnae let ye marinate in whitevur got ye so upset." The pressure from inside your body that threatened to burst you open into a messy explosion of bile and rot, gets evened out from outside by Johnny's tight hug. He squeezes you up to the painful point, cradling against his broad chest, holding the fort while Simon leaves the bed, but not without kissing both your palms and holding them against his lips until he feels the cold leave your fingertips.

"Oi, Johnny. Help lovie get in 'ere," he calls out several minutes later out of the bathroom. Soap, who has been holding you and allowing you to sob against his heart this whole time, stroking your sweaty hair and murmuring every word of love he knows, scoops you up immediately. He pads over with you in his arms to where a warm bath is already filled thanks to Simon, and when you react to the temperature with another wave of tears, they both reach out to the tap simultaneously.

"Is tha' a'right, bonnie?" You make a strangled noise as Johnny finally sets you down into much cooler now water. It soothes you, makes you feel instantly cleaner, smaller, lighter. Breathing gets easier, that swollen blob of anger and disgust shrinking down in your chest and allowing you to inhale bathroom's damp air normally. You open your mouth to apologize and get cut off before even a single syllable leaves your mouth.

"Don't," Simon's voice sounds gruff, but even his murky reflection in the rippling water looks genuinely soft towards you. They're both perched on the cold bath edge, naked and seemingly not caring about that at all. "Jus' let us take care of you, yeah, love? Tha's what we're here for. Tha's what we want to do."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing," Johnny interjects, causing you to finally lift your sullenly lowered head and look at him, Simon's big palm using this moment of distraction to press onto your back in silent support. "Can Ah make ye a foam beard? Please, bonnie? Ye jus' 'ave the prettiest sweetest cheeks fur tha'."

Soap and Gaz feel like their world is sinking into a whirlwind of stormy clouds, the kind that sucks all light out of sky in mere seconds and can't be cut through even by blinding flashes of lightnings. There is no sun in their skies if you're not smiling, and the sound of your muffled sniffles hits their eardrums harder than thunder or explosions. The frowns distorting their faces only make you more self-aware of the fact that you ruined things between you - the initial hysteria starts rapidly flowing into complete shutdown, threatening to turn you into an emotionless shell for unknown period of time, when several warm, big hands intervene and cut the depressing trajectory down at its root.

"Damn, we did a shit job fucking all your thoughts out, didn't we, angel?" Kyle's joke sounds soft, teasing, but empathetic, ready to be met with sobs or silence instead of the usual laughter that flashes your teeth at him and makes his own smile grow brighter.

"Aye, we did. If anythin', Ah think we put more thoughts intae 'ere instead," Johnny scratches his head dramatically, and then you feel his big, hot palm on you sweaty forehead, as if he's trying to get a feel of the thoughts inside your skull. It doesn't linger there for long, though, rough fidgety fingers digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. This makes the hot-and-cold collar around your nape unclench, uncouth and chaotic massage confidently pulling every ounce of anger out of your brain. From time to time his calloused palm slips lower, squeezing your scruff, wiping the cool sweat away and taking control over what seems to have escaped your own.

"How does it feel to be the first person to get knocked up mentally, love? Having any cravings yet? Feeling your brainworms kick yet?" Dry cotton comforter suddenly covers your exposed to be looked at with disdain body, and before you can choke out a protest and something about you being sweaty and sticky and disgusting, Kyle grips your shoulders firmly, rubbing up and down as he slowly helps you sit up a bit.

"Ye eejit, how dae ye think thay can kick? They're brainworms, thay dinnae hae any legs!" The sheer passion in Johnny's heated counterarguement does the impossible - makes the corners of your deeply upset mouth twitch against all the weight the sadness put on them. Your knights in shining (from all the sweat your lovemaking covered them with) armor of their own warm skin seem to not notice the slightest twitch of your lips - there's no excessive attention drawn to you, none of them puts you on the spot. Their touch isn't going anywhere, but it almost seems mindless, simply their need to have something soft and pleasant to squeeze in their restless hands. "'N' wasnae Mary th' first lassie tae get up th' duff through th' heid?"

"That wasn't mentally, that was spiritually, read your books, Soap," scoffs Kyle, as if it was the most obvious thing, and ducks just in time to avoid a pillow thrown at him with sniper's precision.

"Oi, ye sayin' Ah cannae read now?!" Whatever snarky retort Kyle was ready to shoot, gets wiped out as Johnny tackles him, barely avoiding pushing all three of you off the bed. Their scuffle consists of chokeholds and sneaky kisses, legs getting caught in the sheets and somehow tangling you into the mess too.

Until you laugh, finding yourself squished into Johnny's hairy chest with Kyle in a gently headlock somewhere under your arm.

"Hey, hey, careful, mate, our lovie's expecting, we can't just throw 'em around!" However obvious that deflection is, Johnny reacts as if you were actually with child and grabs your face, boring his eyes into yours, slowly widening his two blue lochs in pretend horror.

"Och naw! Ah think we lost 'em, Ah cannae see nothin' there now!" Flushed after the playfight, you avert your gaze, still a trace of self-consciousness about yout outburst somewhere deep inside, but none of the "brainworms" that clogged your insides in sight indeed. Johnny's little drama earns him a soft nip on his thumb from you, and he smiles at you, clearly satisfied with the effect their little scheme had.

"Aw, damn, and here I was, ready to hear the pitter-patter of 'em little feet," Kyle's warm lips somehow find their way to kiss your temple, eliciting another shy giggle.

A pillow crashes onto both of you with the force of a small bombshell.

"THAY DINNAE HAE FEET, GARRICK, THAY'RE WORMS!"

Price and Gaz fall into their usual ways seamlessly, responsibilities and tasks split between the two seemingly without even any verbal communication. Clearing out the space around you with the same quick efficiency they clear out enemies with, they prop you up on some pillows, assess your condition in case they got carried away and hurt you, and finally settle on both sides of you, warm hands on your knees squeezing softly.

"Are ya gonna talk to us now, lovie? Or will we have to use interrogation tactics to learn what made our love so upset?" John's voice bears no trace of threat, but it still makes you cower and try to take up even less space that your curled up body already has, which earns you a sigh from the Captain. "I see. Take over from here, Sergeant. I expect results once I return."

The matress sighs with relief a Price's weight leaves it, bare feet padding a few steps before he reaches his slippers and leaves the room. The pit that the sound of your bedroom's door closing opens in your chest is crushing your ribcage with the iron fist of vacum. You can't blame John for not willing to deal with your bullshit, but the hearbreak only reenforces the choking smog in your head that's rasping in a hundred different voices that the only thing you deserve is pure repulsion.

Kyle's soft thumb pads wipe the tears teetering on the arrows of your lashes, and in a smooth movement you find your face cupped and pulled close to his shoulder. His smooth skin sticks to your wet cheek and you find yourself crying like a little kid, the unbearable pain of the revolting dark knots inside somehow replaced with surprisingly more bearable grief over what you consider an ending reltionship. Perhaps John leaving our bed finally shattered your heart, letting the ungodly pressure out and allowing it to beat - and bleed - again.

"We'd really like if ya talked to us, angel. Don't think Captain can stand there bare-ass naked much longer, might catch rheumatism at this point, he's not getting younger, you know..."

"I hope you know I can hear you perfecrly clear, Garrick." You stop mid-sniffle, eyes snapping to the closed door. You can finally see the shadow of a man standing just outside, and the air slowly feels with some flavour you can't distinguish through all the snot yet, but seem to like a lot...

"Good, so your hearing's still intact, sir. You're in good shape," Kyle's cheeky remark must've broken John's famous patience and restraint, because the bedroom door finally opens, and you see him there. With a tray with a whole bunch of tea mugs and little plates of treats balanced in his hands.

"Still not talking? Well, we'll try another method then, lovie. Sandwich for your thoughts, eh?"

His cheeks are round with a kind smile, confusing your tortured mind even further - Kyle uses your stupor to fetch John's big, slightly scratchy bathrobe, successfully wrapping you into a cocoon of grounding stimulation all over your feverish skin. With a huff and a grumble about staying butt-naked a bit longer, John puts a pleasantly warm mug into your hands and looks at you, arms crossed and tucked into his armpits now that he got rid of the tray.

Expecting an answer.

"'M sorry..." seems appropriate right up to the moment when a little finger-sandwich gets shoved into your mouth. The bread is soft, nice, salty ham and crunchy cucumber filling your senses and cracking a bit fat line of light right in the middle of the dense cloud in your thoughts.

"Try again, love," Kyle gives a hint and wipes a crumb off your lips, licking it off his thumb. "We don't need an apology, we just want to know what's troubling ya. John, tell 'em."

"Already did," grumbles Price in response and clears his throat, sitting back down on the creaking bed. "Food's working though. Eat up, darling, get your energy. Then we'll talk properly, a'right?"

You chew slowly, still stiff in your own body, but regaining control gradually. Yes. Then you'll talk.

Ghost and Price exchange a single glance over your from, choking on the self-destructive rage, and John shakes his head so slightly that one can barely notice, but it's clear enough to stop Simon from tumbling down the traumatic spiral staircase of his own. Grounded by his Captain's presence, he shrugs his broad shoulders, shaking off the creeping up feeling of his own monsterous nature, and rolls onto his back, pulling you out of the miserable wet ball of wrinkled sheets and onto his firm lap, sideways, his big palms resting comfortably around your hips; he's not squeezing or digging his fingers into the fat like he usually does, but it's a secure hug you can't really escape.

Exposed held too far away from his chest you could hide on, you shrink, rising your shoulders protectively and trying to cover up your soft belly, spilling over your pelvis in a shapless manner - that's when John's arms come from behind, catching yours and instead of pulling away forcefully, simply repeating your own safety cocoon, hiding your body from your distorted sight and keeping you warm.

"You're not thinking straight right now, darling," every phrase he murmurs gently, calmly, convincingly into your ear is accompanied by a little kiss, beard tickling and burning your already irritated by tears skin. "So good for us, so kind. Can you spare some of that kindness for yourself?"

Even though it doesn't sound like a rhethorical question, Simon cups your cheek and shushes you tenderly, pressing his thumb to your lips, allowing John to continue with his little speech aimed to dispel the storm coagulated in your chest.

"'Cos if not, it's a'right, love. We know it's hard, and ya're doing good already. Ya 'ave us, eh? To love ya, to cherish ya. No need to overthink, jus' let us hold you, a'right?"

He finally pushes you onto Simon's chest, his big heart stuttering with worry as you seek shelter among his many scars that paint a horrifying picture once you put all the fragments together.

"How'd you do that, sir?" Simon's voice sounds vulnerable - so much that it strikes through all the layers of your egocentric self-hatred and shifts you almost immeditely into a completely different mindset; one where you throw your whole self into loving your scarred and battle-worn men in such abundance that it's ought to compensate for all the unfairness they've gone through.

There's no need for it now, you realize a little too late: Price is there, keeping Simon away from the darkness. They're fine. Better than ever. It's a distraction, a trick, a play to make your bleeding heart stop the internal self-destruction and turn to healing.

A sly little switch you're not sure they were planning to flip, but it worked.

"Hm?" As if emerging from the depths of his thoughts in response to Simon's question, John caresses your cheek as gently as his rough thumb can and then smiles, maybe catching onto the change in your mood or simply remembering all the times he pulled Ghost out of the same gloom and darkness. "Jus' taking care of me own, Simon. Tha's what a Captain does, no? Now, love, how about a shower? I reckon we can squeeze in all together and papmer you really good, what do ya say, eh?"

Ghost and Gaz manage to keep their cool. Kyle's confident and gentle presence serves to reassure any doubts Simon has about hurting you, he shoots a single glance at his sergeant and recieves support immediately. Two pair of hands cradle you with all the tenderness two soldiers are capable of, which is always enough to drown you in fully. It's a tight hug, a hot mess of limbs, too much skin on skin contact that makes your brain flare with undirected rage, but as seconds trickle by and you're still trapped between two firm bodies, you have no choice but to slip into the exhaustion phase of your outburst.

It's not pleasant, nor could you say you feel calm; if anything, you just petrify, a permanent frown on your face and blindly staring forward glass eyes. You're tired, you'd still rather be anywhere but inside your own body that still feels like a useless deformed bag that should be gutted and emptied to lighten up, inner layer of your skin scrubbed with a knife to peel off the suffocating thickness of fat trapping this heated rage inside...

Instead, you get a kiss.

It's Kyle, soft, full lips touching your wet with tears cheekbone, then again - your temple, your cheek, the overheated spot behind your ear. They're light, soft kisses, too gentle to be playful or arousing. Calming. They do not demand anything in return - he allows you to stay in your inner world where you feel secure, even pauses to kiss Simon the same way right in front of your eyes. A silent demonstrationg of the love and reverence these pecks carry, Simon's hooded eyes fluttering shut as if his own compartmentalized demons get exorcised by Garrick's touch.

"Wanna talk about it, angel?" Kyle's voice rumbles at a nice, grounding, smooth timbre, and your still-too-slow mind struggles to grasp how is it possible that he's talking and you're still getting kisses - until you recognize the uneven texture of Simon's scarred lips, trailing along your skin tenderly. "Whenever you're ready, love. But we would love to know what's going through your head right now."

It feels strange to say it out lound when you're held and caressed like this, but their kisses and solid embrace cleared your windpipe enough of the mental gunk for you to be able to speak.

"I hate myself... 'M disgusting, and-" A displeased grumbling kiss from Simon interrupts you, and even Kyle pushes his huge shoulder to reprimand his own Lieutenant for the interference. Kisses his temple immediately to make amends, though, and turns back to you, prompting you to continue.

"Wot? Don't like when someone talks shit 'bout mine," grumbles Simon like a dog that got flicked on the nose for growling at welcome guests.

"Let 'em talk, mate, it's good to get things off your chest." At least their little bickering coaxes a tiniest hint of smile out of you, and Simon, noticing it immediately, stares back at Kyle with such pride, as if he just did something great.

The thing is, in the way his arms squeeze you a tad bit tighter, pressing into his firm body, you can read that for him - your smile is the greatest achievement.

"Don't tell me you prefer his silent treatement, angel, I'm trying to be the attentive boyfriend here, and for what?" Your smile grows a little braver. A little brighter. You would've kept talking if you could remember what it was that hurt so fucking much in your chest.

"Shower. Then a cuppa. Then we have the talk." No one dares to argue with the Ghost and his gruff commands. You feel the sheet sticking to your skin as he lifts you up, Kyle already sneaking off to prepare towels and clean clothes for you three. He'll stay with you and help you wash the remaints of the mind attack off. Simon will make fresh tea.

You're going to be alright.

Price and Soap take quite an intense approach the second they notice your distress. You feel Johnny's weight disappear from you after the first strangled sob that escapes you, and if you could open your eyes glued shut by the hot, messy tears, you would see John practically dragging the poor Sergeant away by his scruff. It's easy to suspect that Johnny couldn't contain himself and went too hard, too rough on you - with no malice, but pure passion that's spilling from his big, hot heart every time he gets to be close to you.

But it's not Johnny's fault, neither is it John's. It's all you, a useless, pathetic thing, good for nothing and holding two gorgeous men to yourself like a greedy glutton hoarding delicious food.

"Ah'm sorry, bonnie- ow, Ah got it, Ah got it, Ah'm not touchin'!"

"Did we hurt ya, love? Was Johnny boy too rough wit' ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel big warm hands gliding over your skin, quick assessment of your state in search of potential harm caused. This immediate care only makes you feel worse, every cold sweaty patch of your disgusting hide shivering and twitching under Captain's careful touch. You struggle against your own spiraling anger, fight it with what's left of your exhausted resilience - and lose, curling up with another burst of tears, shoving the loving hands away and dusting the lingering warmth off your body.

After all, you do not deserve to be treated with such kindness after the fit you just threw.

"No, no, no, it's not his fault, it's not Johnny's... it's me, it's my fault, it's all my fault, I ruin everything, I'm- I'm disgusting!"

The silence that follows you blowing up on them is heavy. Just as bad as the knot in your chest.

"Johnny."

When you open your eyes to find a way out, run away, scatter and hide in the furthest corner of the apartment until everyone who tried caring for you leaves again, you're met with Johnny's bright blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

It's a shocking sight, pushing you out of the muffled misery into an alerted worry - his face is red with unexplainable pained anger, fists clenched as John holds him tightly by hunched shouders, seemingly trying to prevent a violent outburst.

"Ah wanntae ken names of th' bastarts who made ye feelin' tis wa'. Ah swear Ah will mak' thaim fuckin' choke oan thair ain tongues, Ah'll rip thair spines oot 'n' shove thaim up thair-" - "Enough, Johnny. Stand down. This won't solve anythin'. Ya calm down and help our lovie feel better, a'right?"

Still a bit shells-hocked, you stir on the bedsheets and push yourself up to sit upright, stretching your arms hesitantly to the men in a weak attempt to remedy whatever shitstorm you caused in their minds.

"Don't get mad, please," you whisper sheepishly, and the shy sound of your still choked voice seems to wash Johnny's explosive anger away better than the firm grip of his handler's (Price's) hands. With a look of a beaten dog, Johnny huffs loudly, cuddlng up to you and hiding his face in your lap. His heavy jaw sinks in the plush of your thighs, accomodated nicely with the softness of your body.

"'M nae mad at ye, leannan. Jus' dinnae say tha' again, a'right, bonnie? If ye need me tae prove ye-"

"No..." your hand finds it place in his damp mohawk and brushes through, while you glance at John. His eyes are shimmering with love and love only as he looks at you and Johnny, and you feel a wave of shyness - the good, giddy, warm kind - replacing the paralyzing shame. "I'm fine already. With you."

"Maybe we should 'ave a little chat 'bout it, love," John's hand meets yours on the sad mutt's head in your lap, intertwinig fingers with you through Johnny's soft hair. "When ya feel better. Jus' so we know what we're dealing with, eh?"

"Yeah. A bit later. Thank you."

All four of your men get frozen witnessing your reaction, struck with a horrifying sense of helplessness - it feels like the biggest failure among many unsuccessful missions, operations where lives were lost and enemies missed, to have you curling up and crying in misery between all the love they've been pouring onto you just mere seconds ago. As if everything they touch is bound to go up in flames, drown in blood and rot, be it on the outside or from the inside.

They're lost, and as always, they turn to the Captain, giving themselves up for him to direct, trusting that he knows better what use they can be of.

And, frankly, he does.

They're barely talking, but the commotion around you is decipherable even through the red mind fog and closed eyes - it honestly only makes you feel worse, unsafe, exposed, despite that simply being Soap, sent off to fill a bath ("Ye want it hot or a tad bit cool, bonnie?" - Silence. Your nails dig into your scalp, the soud of someone simply breathing, even more so talking to you, sending you into a new fit of rage. "Make it warm, Johnny, we'll adjust later."), and Simon, leaving for tea duty - silently, your favourite way to have it attentively observed in the first two weeks you've been together and memorized ever since.

It's Kyle whose voice, murmuring into your ear sweet, reassuring nothings as he keeps you caged in a tight embrace, your back pressed against his warm chest, forces you out of the highly irritable state. You have no choice between his short, chaste kisses on the crown of your overloaded head, and John's calloused hands massaging your calves, soft flesh dipping under the firm pressure.

"Ya jus' focus on fighting tha' storm off, a'right, darling? We'll take care of th' rest. It happens, we know it does, 's not your fault. Jus' a funny lil' thing your mind does, eh? Yeah, love, we know wha' it's like when your mind does funny things. Don't we, Kyle?"

"That we do." Maybe it's just your own depressive state rubbing off on them or distorting your perception, but Kyle's voice sounds almost solemn. You would turn to look into the smoky quartz of his eyes, but either he holds you too tight, or you have barely any strength left in your upset body - you simply can't.

Maybe it's alright. Maybe tonight they don't need you ripping your heart out to tend to their restless minds, and you can just allow them to take care of you.

Allow Kyle to carry you to the bathroom.

Allow John to stay there and help you wash yourself with a nice, scrubby loofah.

Allow Johnny to bring in his huge, baggy loungewear that doesn't hug your curves too snugly and allows you to simply forget what you were so angry about for a while.

Allow Simon to serve you perfect temperature tea in your favourite mug and keep you quiet company on the balcony, night air cooling your wet and clean now skin and hair further and blowing all thoughts out of your troubled head away.

As you share a cigarette with rich clove aftertaste, breathing ironically becomes easier. Behind your back the bedsheets are being changed, proper meal is being cooked, a good movie you won't be upset falling asleep to is being chosen.

"Simon." - "Hm." - "You sure you're okay with me being like that?" - "Standin' in the wind with your hair wet, tryin' to catch a cold?"

You grunt, not appreciating him taking the piss while you're tryig to be vulnerable, but allow him to pull the hood of Johnny's hoodie onto your head.

"No. I mean, fucked up in the head?"

You don't actually know what answer you expect. With an unreadable expression, Simon turns his head, looking through the glass door at the men crowded in the living room and waiting for you, and then stares back at you with a smirk, a permanent scowl carved into it by someone's cruel hand.

"Nah. Tha's how I like 'em."

He throws the cigarette butt away and chuckles, cupping the back of your head and pulling you inside, into the warmth of home.

"Oi, bonnie! C'mere, As saved ye a spot." There is no spot as you look at the two-story cuddle pile on the sofa and the blanket nest in front of it, unless of course... ah, yes, Johnny's patting his lap. "Ah promise Ah'll behave. Mostly."

And as his warmth envelops you through a big hug, his hands clenched humbly on your belly and behaving indeed, you feel stupidly happy.

Because you're enjoying touch again.

[sabahs-stuff]

Manifest appearance change. (Weight loss/gain)

(Success story)

❏First and foremost, Yeah, I know you shouldn't let go of your manifestation. Like detaching from your manifestation bla bla..

However, I have noticed that actively affirming appearance change is difficult for me because I love looking at my reflection in the mirror all the time. And I've to constantly remind myself to affirm. Every time I affirm, one of my inner voices started stating the opposite.

I weighed 47kg (I'm 5'3; I know it's the ideal weight, but I wanted to gain a little more). It was difficult for me to eat more. I believe it was about April 14 or 15. I decided to quit trying to eat more. I started to joke that I was gaining weight without eating,"are u kidding me? I'm eating nothing and also skipping dinner these days, so how tf am I gaining weight?" Some of my friends even laughed at me.🙂

Then, out of nowhere, my sister began complaining that I had gained weight, then few days ago I went to the doctor for a checkup, and they also measured my weight, it's 51KG now. Mind you, I skipped a lot of meals and wasn't eating at all. It was during the Mercury retrograde. I was quite depressed and saddened also someone so close to me died. But it took me like 10 days to gain 4kg. If that's not shocking idk what is.

So, this is what I did (•_•)

Reminder : "If you could make yourself believe that you have the exact appearance you desire, it would change"

Every time I ate, I told myself, "I should be dieting." And look at what I'M doing. I should start working out before it's too late. And that is all. Then I didn't even affirm anything during the day, ( I believe that if you make your brain believe that you're prettiest little creature on the planet and your existence is a service to the humanity then that's how it would be. And my toxic trait is that I believe my presence is a blessing to the humanity.😂

every time I looked in the mirror, I said, "Wtf? I'm gaining weight . "Shit, I need to diet." And trust me when I tell you at that exact moment your brain is going send you a thought "Stop lying; you're still skinny bitch"

But don't forget that you get to select what happens in your reality. If your mind wants to offer you lemons, make lemonade.😂

I said, "Yes, that's correct. If I want to lose my weight I need to affirm I'm still skinny" and I kept on saying "I need to lose weight or I'll gain more weight" just tricked my brain into thinking that I'm chubby and attempting to manifest becoming skinny. And I didn't focused on the end goal; I wasn't obsessed with it; I didn't give a damn about it, but whenever I noticed a little change, I freaked out as if something terrible had happened. And believe me when I say I freaked out it was Oscar worthy😂

I Remember, the first thing I noticed was that my arm was looking a bit chubby. I was screaming and even fake crying, 😭 "Damn this is embarrassing, I need to work out, I'm gaining weight." I then searched and downloaded weight loss workouts online.

Trust me I was living the moment 😂. literally living in the end. It was easy at the time because my brain was literally blank. I had no feelings or emotions, so I fed my brain whatever I wanted, and it ate every thought I gave it. I'm happy with my weight now.

I'm now 51kg this is just a photo I saved from Pinterest but this is my Desired type-

Here are some tips:

Your appearance is constantly changing with your affirmations and beliefs. So don't doubt whether this is going to work or not. 

Your manifestation will take time, depending on you and your beliefs.

And about mental health, I would post about it later, but it's important.

The more you visualize, the faster it will become a reality.Visualise everything; literally, everything you want, VISUALIZE 🙌 stay in your head

The amount of things I changed and manifested in my life is crazy; it's different for each person. But it took me a year to fully understand manifestation. So give yourself time. Spend time with yourself; the better you know yourself, the better you'll get in manifestation. Best advice: talk to yourself (in your head, of course, or others would think you're crazy, lol 😹.)  gossip with yourself; if you want to be tall tell yourself that you're tall and stick to it refuse to let go. ✊🏻

Hope you like it. It's my first ever post but clearly not the last 😉 feel free to ask any questions. 🩷

[luveline]

Omg I just had an idea. What if for the Zombie!AU the reader and Steve are just reminiscing and she’s like (fondly) “I fully thought you were just gonna leave me stranded u were so mean to me you HATED my guts.” Like laughing and joking about it and Steve is horrified like D: (irrationally grumpy about it like who does that jerk think he is treating my girl like that but it’s him he’s the jerk)

thank you for your request! steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

"That's a good look on you," you say.

Steve pulls your scarf out where it's draped around his neck, faking an appreciative look at the pinks and reds knitted together. "Red's my colour." 

"It's definitely more pink than red." 

"And I'm rocking it," he says, tucking one end over the shoulder of his shiny windbreaker. 

"You are! You look awesome… Maybe I'll have to come out with you next time," you say, testing the waters, "and make sure you actually get yourself some stuff." 

"I don't need to get myself anything. I'll just steal yours." Steve lifts the soft threads at the end of the scarf to tickle your cold face. 

You tug your arm through the crook of his like a needle through aida, pulling him along the College campus one lethargic footstep at a time. You'd been a little stir crazy on your day off together, and Steve had proposed a walk. Steve doesn't want to be walking, he's done enough walking that he'd preferably only do it in absolute necessity for the rest of his life, but exercise will always be good for the soul, and he likes the way you look when you're cold, in a strange way. Not the front bitten depression of the days you'd spent getting here, but the fleeting freeze of a quick stroll. Your eyes are bright with happiness and your hands are not so casually wrapped around his arm, stealing his heat. 

Steve doesn't mind. You can take every drop of warmth he has. 

"It's a little funny, sometimes, when we share things. I remember, before I almost got my shit wrecked by that geek in the pretzel shop fridge, I tried to give you my extra socks and you told me to shut up." 

Steve presses his lips together. "I did?" 

"That I was gonna get us killed being loud," —you turn, walking backward, with your hand searching down the length of his arm until you've found his cold hand— "and that you were an idiot for not leaving me in Bradley's." You smile at him and you're all fondness as an ache bruises up Steve's chest. "I thought you were gonna leave me there. You really didn't like me." 

Steve had been a mess when you found him — saved him. He'd been so fucking scared and he'd been trying to survive, and you'd saved him. You were there through everything. He wishes more than anything that he could go back and look past Steve in the eye, tell him to take better care of you physically and otherwise. He'd been having a hard time, but so had you, and while you've forgiven him for how he acted, he can't forgive himself. Even if he had his reasons. 

"I wouldn't have left you," he says softly. He hates himself for making you think he would. 

You soften just a little in response. "I know that." 

"Really, I–" He shakes his head, sheepish. "Was such a dick. I'm sorry." 

You stop walking. Your head tips toward your shoulder. You frown, and Steve wants to kiss it into a smile. 

"You were a dick. You were mean," you say, "but you weren't cruel, Steve, you toughened me up, and you got us where we are now. I don't want you to be sorry." 

"That jerk." 

You quirk your brow quizzically. 

"Where the fuck does he get off?" 

"You mean you," you say. 

He pulls you in and takes a step forward at the same time. Your chests bump, Steve pulling your hand to his hip to encourage a hug he doesn't deserve. 

"I was a jerk," he says, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger. 

Your lashes flutter near imperceptibly, your pupils little black beads that start to grow. He loves when you make the face you're making, waiting for him to kiss you, trying to pretend you aren't. Your gaze falls to his lips and you look needy enough for him to consider popping down on one knee. 

"I was a world class douchebag and you didn't deserve it." 

"No, I didn't," you echo. 

He nods appreciatively. "Can I kiss you?" 

Steve doesn't ask that question very often anymore. Considering the subject matter of what you've remembered, he wouldn't blame you for needing some space, even if your hands are searching up his back and your face is closing in on his.

"You can always kiss me, baby," you murmur. 

And thank whatever presence it is that gave him you for that. He kisses you gently until your lips part, and he feels the hot press of your tongue for a dizzying split-second. He pulls you close, his hand sliding up the side of your face, his eyes screwed tight. All his senses are full to the brim of you. 

His hair falls into your face. It must tickle, because you laugh and ease away from him. Your eyes shine with brightness and your lips with the evidence of an enthusiastic kiss as you stroke the rogue strand of hair out of his eyes. 

Steve can't believe there was a part of him that could ever look at you and not turn to putty in your hands. "I fucking hate that jerk," he grumbles.

"I love that jerk," you say, rubbing his cheekbone with your knuckle. 

You drop your hand to his and tangle your fingers. "Helps that you're hot when you're mean," you add lightly. 

Steve perks up. "Yeah?" 

"I'll tell you more about it, if you like… Once we finish our walk." 

He feels a surprising throb of forgiveness for past him. If there's one thing he did right, it was that he made you a very fast walker. 

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 01x16 - Dark Evolution! SkullGreymon / The Arrival of SkullGreymon

Previously on Digimon Adventure: The wicked servants of Elvis gave our kids food and baths. Fleeing into a nearby cave, Taichi found the Warp Whistle and got them out of there before they could be exposed to Elvis's music any longer.

Now we join them an ambiguous length of time later, in a place that is certainly not the forested mountains we left them in.

We're back in the desert. Why are we back in the desert? Why did we go back there? IDK but Mimi's is bothered as I am.

Mimi: Ugh, how much farther do we have to talk? Jou: Until we find a place where Etemon can't reach us. Mimi: Does a place like that even exist!?!? Yamato: I hope so. We have nowhere to run if Etemon attacks us right now. Sora: This is bad. Everyone's starting to get depressed.

Wandering through the vast deserts of Server under threat that Etemon could appear at any moment naturally has a negative impact on the group's mental health. Sora's concerned for them. But Taichi's annoyed.

Taichi: What's going on here!? Get a hold of yourselves! We have a Crest with us now! Yamato: Sure, but can they really evolve with just the Crest? Taichi: Of course. Right, Agumon? Agumon: Mmm-- Taichi: Be more assertive! You're the only one right now who can evolve to the next level! You have to stand for all of us on the battlefield! Tentomon: We're counting on you! Taichi: By the way, how do we reach the next evolution? Koushiro: Well, from what we know about evolution, they need a lot of energy to evolve. They couldn't do it when they were hungry. Also, it happens when their partner is in danger. Taichi: I see.... So, about, that energy thing: To evolve to a higher level, I guess you'd need more energy than ever, right?

Taichi ties off that question with a wink at Agumon, who flinches from Taichi's exuberance. He's plotting.

As he brought up at the end of the last episode (but not in the dub), In stark contrast to the rest of the group, who are still in survival mode, Taichi feels invincible now that he has this Crest. He's confident that he has the key to Etemon's demise right there around his neck. He just needs to figure out how it works.

Over in the dub, Tai's going even harder.

Tai: Hey, come on, you guys! Why'd we stop? Why's everyone so scared? After all, we do have the Crest, you know! Matt: That's true! But do we really know the Crest will help Agumon to Digivolve? Tai: Of course! Right, Agumon? Agumon: Hmm? Tai: Listen, buddy: This is your big chance! Don't let me down! You're the only one that can Digivolve further so either you try to get to the next level and save us from Etemon or I'll go and get myself a new Digimon! Tentomon: Not much of a choice! Tai: ARGH! By the way, how are we supposed to use the Crest to Digivolve again? Izzy: Well, from what we've seen so far with the other Digivolutions, it takes a lot of energy. For example, they can't Digivolve if they're hungry. In addition, the Partner of the Digimon must be in some sort of danger. You know, like being under attack or something. Tai: But since it's a higher level of Digivolving, my theory is even more energy is needed. So we'll provide the food; Etemon will provide the danger!

Love that closing line, "We'll provide the food; Etemon will provide the danger!" That's a great way to set up the bad decision-making that's about to take place.

The biggest difference between the two versions is that Tai threatens to fire Agumon in this one. Holy shit! He's being a twat either way but that's brutal.

We cut briefly to Etemon's trailer being carted through the desert. He's rambling.

Etemon: You kids just wait! When I find you, I'll knock you flat and stuff you like turkeys!

Over in the dub, he says:

Etemon: You better watch out, you DigiDestined kids! I'll find you and, when I do, you'll wish you never crossed Etemon! I'll get ya!

This may seem like a lateral move, but the "stuff you like turkeys" line is setup for a gag. We cut immediately from that line to:

The dub destroys this joke, not only changing Etemon's line but introducing a commercial break between Etemon's setup and Agumon's payoff.

Over here at a small oasis, Taichi is force-feeding Agumon as much as possible.

Agumon: I can't eat anymore! Taichi: When I say eat, you eat! No complaining! Agumon: But-- Taichi: Listen! Everyone gave you their share of food because they're looking forward to your evolution! Right, guys? Yamato: Sure. Mimi: Gave it to him? More like he took it from us. Gabumon: But we can't evolve to a higher level. Jou: (bitterly) So it's "Whoever doesn't work doesn't eat"? Tentomon: Oh no.... Taichi: Eh? What was that? I can't hear you! Isn't that right, guys? Group: (unenthusiastically) Uh-huh! Taichi: See? That's why you and I have to work hard together! We have to protect everyone!

Taichi is now preventing the rest of the group from eating so that he can force-feed Agumon far beyond his limits. Based entirely on his own speculation that Agumon will need a supreme amount of energy for a Perfect-stage evolution.

Palmon: I guess that means we're dragging everyone down. Piyomon: Even so, I feel sorry for Agumon. Sora: Yeah. Agumon looks like he's being forced into a corner. Koushiro: During club activities, Taichi-san was always nice to us younger members. Sora: Now that you mention it, back in soccer club....

While the first part of this scene is played totally straight in the dub, this bit's a little different.

Palmon: I guess there's not much else we can do to help. Biyomon: I don't know if Agumon can take much more! Sora: Yeah, Tai is really pushing him. Agumon's stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. Izzy: Tai's personality has taken a turn for the worse lately. I remember him being friendlier even to us younger kids. Sora: Actually, now that you mention it, he was cool during soccer camp.

"Soccer camp" is an interesting choice here. Extracurricular "soccer club" isn't really a thing in the U.S. but schools do have sports teams. Not usually for elementary schools, though. Sora and Taichi are in fifth grade. In order to play soccer together, they'd have to be part of a recreational youth program like at the YMCA or, as noted, a soccer camp.

Meanwhile, Koushiro's reference to sharing "club activities" with Taichi, though the sentiment of his line remains. I guess they couldn't imagine why Izzy would play soccer.

From here, Sora flashes back on a school soccer game. Taichi's playing in the front of his team as a striker, a position notorious for arrogant and selfish play, and he has the ball. Sora is the other striker, running down the field parallel to Taichi.

We see the gears turn in Taichi's head.

Sora: Taichi, pass! Taichi: This is my chance to shoot! Here I go!

But then another player slides in front of him on an intercept course. Without missing a beat, Taichi passes the ball sideways a moment before the slide trips him up. Sora receives his pass, striking the ball with a headbutt and sending it sailing into goal.

Helping Taichi to his feet, Sora appreciates his sportsmanship.

Sora: Nice pass! I thought you'd try to take the shot yourself. Taichi: I'd never do something that crazy! Ahahahaha!

Back in the present, Sora reflects:

Sora: Taichi seems like the type to rush off on his own, but he's always taken his surroundings into consideration. Koushiro: Right. Sora: But now.... Taichi: We're the only ones who can do this! So keep going! Eat up! Agumon: No more! Sora: Ever since Taichi got that Crest, he's become a completely different person.

Again, the dub here is a bit altered.

Sora: Tai might look like he's trying to run things all by himself, but whatever crazy action he takes, he does it for the good of the team. Izzy: Mmhmm. Sora: But now all this.... Tai: We're the only ones who can help now! So you've gotta keep eating, okay, Agumon!? Agumon: I can't! Sora: Tai's personality seems to have changed ever since he got a hold of that Crest of Courage.

Sora's point is about Taichi typically having situational awareness to temper his enthusiasm. He was going to take the shot himself, but when he realized he was about to be intercepted, he quickly switched gears and passed the ball rather than stubbornly forging ahead.

"Tai makes ridiculous choices but always for good reasons!" is a bizarre takeaway for her to have from that anecdote.

Also, she name-drops Crest of Courage before any of the kids know that the Crests mean things. That's a straight-up continuity error right there.

Suddenly, the conversation's broken up a ringing pulse shining inside Jou's shirt.

Jou: I'm starving... Hmm? What the...? (Jou pulls his Tag out of his shirt and sees it pulsing blue) Jou: (standing up suddenly) Hey, look! My Tag! Yamato: It's reacting to something. Koushiro: Your Crest must be nearby! Taichi: Really!?

Taichi whips out his mini-telescope, scanning the nearby surroundings until he spots a set of ruins in the distance. Ecstatic, Jou races down the dune they're resting on, tripping over something buried in the sand.

Gomamon: What's a cable doing here?

His question doesn't get answered, but we know these cables. Far off, Etemon orders the Monochromon dragging his trailer to halt.

Etemon: STOP!!! Gazimon: What's wrong, Etemon-sama? Etemon: Ehehehehehe!!! Something's stuck in my network! L-7 Area... Let's see... Where was that? L over, 7 down, and... There it is! Gazimon: Where is it? Etemon: YIIIIIII!!! It's near the Coliseum! Remember? The place I hold my yearly concert! (angrily) They fled to such a place.... Gazimon: Geh. It's pretty far. Etemon: Yep. However, I have an interesting show set up there. Ahaha!

In the dub:

Etemon: WHOA!!! Gazimon: What is it, Lord Etemon? Etemon: Ahaha! Something's caught in my network, uh-huh-huh! The intruder's in the L-7 sector. Let's see, L-7, L-7... How's this thing work? Oh, here it is! Gazimon: Where is it? Etemon: Hahaha, it's near the Coliseum! That's where I hold my annual Tribute to Me show; I wonder what they're doing all the way over there? You got any idea? Gazimon: Well, maybe they want to get good seats, boss. Etemon: Oh, they'll have a perfect view for the surprise show I planted for 'em! Hahahaha!

Small change: Etemon seems miffed that the kids are at the Coliseum in the original. It's a subtle moment, but it almost seems like he's offended that they're hiding out in a place that has sentimental value to him personally.

"Maybe they want to get good seats" is a great quip. We lose Gazimon expositing that it's far off, but Etemon covered that with "all the way over there" so the information is still conveyed.

The big shift here is the "show" waiting for the kids. Etemon in the original suggests that what's about to happen is part of his annual concert setup. He's repurposing resources already in place for another reason. Dub Etemon seems to have set this all up as a trap on purpose? Though given the events to follow, that's still a believable interpretation.

Etemon calls another Gazimon over in L-7 to arrange his plan.

Gazimon: Yeah? This is the L-7 area. Etemon: It's me. Gazimon: (leaps to his feet) Y-Yes!? Etemon: Some guests will be arriving soon. Prepare a welcome party. Gazimon: W-Welcome party!? You don't mean that thing? Etemon: I mean that thing. Gazimon: U-UNDERSTOOD!!!

This Gazimon races off into the Coliseum to prepare for the children's arrival.

Inside, the Coliseum is a bit different from what one might expect of ancient Roman architecture.

Koushiro: It looks like the Roman Coliseum! Tentomon: What is that? Taichi: An ancient stadium. Mimi: Look! A widescreen TV! Sora: And a goal post! This is a soccer field! Taichi: Well, let's split up and look for the Crest!

Neat. You know those ancient Romans and their love for giant stadium monitors and soccer.

We've been in Digimon World/Digital World for so long that no one even cares about out-of-place modern shit anymore. That's just life.

Unfortunately, all that overfeeding is taking a toll on Agumon, who falls to the ground abruptly.

Agumon: I can't move... Let me sleep.... Taichi: What's wrong with you!? Get up! Agumon: Sorry.... Jou: Let him rest. The only clue we have is this Tag. Gomamon and I will go look, so the rest of you take a break. Taichi: I'll go with you!

Jou-senpai stepping up to be the responsible one again, but as usual, Taichi can't be still for five seconds.

While Taichi and Jou race off to search for Jou's Crest, something interesting rolls out onto the soccer field.

Sora: (excited gasp) Soccer ball! Hey, want to play soccer!? Takeru: That sounds like fun! Yamato: Let's make it Human Team vs. Digimon Team. Tentomon: What's soccer? Sora: It's where you use your legs to kick this ball into a goal. You can also use your head or chest.

She demonstrates by popping the ball up and passing it with her head to Gabumon. He delivers a powerful kick, sending it up in an arc. Piyomon tries to catch it with her wings, but the ball hits her in the face and knocks her flat. It then bounces into Palmon's hands behind her.

Sora: You can't use your hands. Palmon: Don't you think that's really unfair to me? Takeru: The goalkeeper can use their hands, right? Yamato: Yeah. You'd be perfect for goalkeeper, Palmon.

In the dub, Palmon's objection is removed. After Biyomon gets clonked, Palmon's line and Sora's are switched.

Palmon: Oh! That's really using your head! Sora: Oh, and I forgot to tell you: You can't use your hands. T.K.: Unless you're the goalkeeper; Then you can touch the ball with your hands! Matt: Yeah! You should be the goalie for your team, Palmon!

It's a minor difference, but the bit doesn't flow quite as well without the point being raised that Palmon, more than anyone here, is a very grabby Digimon. She has a much higher hands-to-other-stuff ratio than the rest of the group.

With Palmon's role sorted out, she gives the ball a toss to put it back in play. Suddenly, noticing the others having fun, Tai races in and gives the ball a heavy kick, sending it hurtling to the upper audience stands.

By comical coincidence, he scores a direct hit on Gazimon way up there. Even when he's being a shit, Taichi has amazing soccer instincts. The shot sends Gazimon tumbling down the stairs into the Coliseum's inner chambers.

Taichi: How the hell can you guys be playing soccer at a time like this!?!? Stop and think about what we're dealing with! We're leaving as soon as Jou finds his Crest!

(This is Taichi's "How you season your eggs is causing the decline of Japanese culture" moment. Like Jou way back when, Taichi is cracking under the pressure of being at war with an invulnerable foe.)

Before anyone can say anything to Taichi, the stadium's filled with sports music and the screen turns on.

Etemon: WAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I am the greatest!

Screaming in terror, the kids flee for their lives, inexplicably choosing to take cover inside a soccer net. (Why?) This bizarre choice proves to be part of the trap; The net closes around them, sealing them in. Everyone but Agumon; He tripped and didn't make it to the net because his belly's still too full to move.

Etemon: GOOOOOOOOOAL!!! Now I've got you! Taichi: It was a trap! Tentomon: You think you can keep us in here with just this!?

Tentomon tries to break through the net, but it's electrified. It gives him a discouraging shock the moment he touches it.

Etemon: You're going to injure yourself if you do that. The net's wires are electrified! I've love to be there and do this face-to-face but unfortunately I'm too far away for that. Stars have busy schedules, y'know. But don't worry! A special guest is going to take my place! Who do you think it will be? Taichi: Who cares!? Etemon: I bet he's going to surprise you! YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!

Etemon's guest star arrives: A Greymon with a black "collar" made up of what seems to be a Dark Network cable wrapped around their neck. They stomp into the Coliseum, wrecking everything in their path.

Taichi: G-Greymon!? Etemon: See? You're so surprised! I'm such a fabulous show producer. Now, let's get started! (English) IT'S SHOWTIME!!!

In the dub, we get:

Tai: It's a different Greymon! Etemon: See? I knew you'd be surprised! I'm so evil! ~Let's get started / It's time to go / Okay! / Here's the show!

That might be the funniest change in the series. I wonder which show producer objected to having Etemon proclaim, "I'm such a fabulous show producer"? XD

Agumon evolves to fight the other Greymon. As they're fighting, Takeru drops this banger.

Gabumon: You can do this, Greymon! Takeru: Don't lose to a fake!

Those are some bold words when that one over there is a natural Greymon and our guy can only hit that stage temporarily thanks to Digivice magic.

Sadly, natural Greymon proves to be superior in brawling with a temp. They land a horn bash to our Greymon's chin, sending him backwards into the electrified net.

Conceding that our Greymon can't beat Etemon's, Taichi sees only one avenue left.

Taichi: Evolve, Greymon! Koushiro: He can't keep this up. Tentomon: He can't win if he doesn't evolve!

Greymon gets back up and keeps fighting, but the other Greymon tosses him to the ground and stomps on his head. Taichi screams at him to evolve.

Taichi: Evolve! Evolve, Greymon! Koushiro: It's useless, Taichi-san. Your Crest isn't reacting at all. Yamato: Evolution is impossible. Taichi: I don't accept that. Greymon, I know you can do it! Believe in your ability to evolve!

Greymon does not evolve. He bashes the other Greymon off with a tail whip, then attempts to fire off a Mega Flame.

However, all that comes out is a belch. This is what tips off the group as to why he's having so much trouble.

Mimi: How can you burp at a time like this? Yamato: Do his movements look slower than usual? Koushiro: I get it. His body is heavy from overeating! Tentomon: You're right!

Tentomon's so excited by this revelation, he takes to the air and electrocutes himself on the net again. Smooth.

Meanwhile, Gazimon takes another call from Etemon.

Etemon: Don't just stand around! Start the ending celebration! Prepare the fireworks and step on it!

Gazimon takes up a position up on top of a set of three statue heads, raising sparklers for the ceremony.

While our Greymon continues to get worked over, Gomamon desperately calls his Marching Fishes to lend a fin.

Water pours out of the statues' mouths, with Gomamon's fish flying from the water. They mug Gazimon for his sparklers and make their way over to the enemy Greymon, baiting them away from our Greymon.

Meanwhile, the kids discuss the massive WTF of this occurrence.

Jou: How were fishes able to come out of there!? Gomamon: Don't look at me. I don't understand complex stuff. Koushiro: There's probably a rift to another dimension over there. Gomamon: What he said. Jou: I see....

It's as good an explanation as any.

The dub dialogue is similar, but Izzy's more condescending about it.

Joe: Where did those fish come from!? How could they just come out of there like that!? Gomamon: I dunno, but if it's not broken, don't fix it! Izzy: It's really elementary, Joe. There's probably just a dimensional vortex rift in the water. Gomamon: Ditto! Joe: Oh.

Imagine not knowing about aquatic dimensional vortex rifts. That's baby stuff. You're kinda dim, Joe.

Once the conversation's finished, the Marching Fishes drop their sparklers at Greymon's feet and then fly off into the sky, visibly fading out of existence. (I guess they Dimensional Vortex Rifted away.)

Koushiro comes up with the idea of tunneling to safety. The kids peel back the tiles to find another black cable, but also a large stone bearing a symbol like the one that formed Taichi's Crest. The stone begins to pulse, as does Jou's Tag.

Assuming it works the same, Jou rests his Tag on the stone.

Crest received!

Just in time for the ground beneath them, no longer braced by the Crest stone, to give way and dump the kids. into a deep hole. But it's a deep hole with an exit, so they're free. We briefly cut to Etemon furiously watching them make their escape.

Etemon: Those damn children! Not only did they escape, but they have another Crest! UNFORGIVABLE!!!

It's here that Taichi makes terrible choices.

Taichi: He'd win if he evolved. If he could only evolve! GREYMON!!! Sora: Stop! Taichi: Don't stop me! This is my chance to get Greymon to evolve! Please just stay out of the way! Sora: But your Crest isn't reacting at all! It's impossible for him to evolve! Taichi: He will evolve. No, I'll make him!

Taichi hops down into the stadium and races out onto the field, towards where the two Greymon are fighting.

(This is where Sora's anecdote from earlier comes into play. Taichi isn't being situationally aware. He's not paying attention to the factors on the field; Specifically, his Crest. He's stubbornly, arrogantly trying to take the shot himself and not paying attention to the very real fact that his angle is too well-guarded.)

Yamato: What is he trying to do!? Koushiro: The other condition needed for evolution is for the Partner to be in danger. Sora: Taichi-san wouldn't....

He would. He does.

Etemon calls for a Mega Flame to finish Taichi's Greymon, but Taichi interrupts the shot by pelting Etemon's Greymon with a rock expertly flung straight into their eye.

Taichi: STOP!!! I'm not scared of you! Come and get me! Etemon: Trying to act tough, are we? Very well. We'll deal with you first, just like you wanted!

Sora and Yamato send Birdramon and Garurumon in there to keep Taichi from getting himself stupidly killed. But Taichi keeps screaming at Greymon to evolve until finally, his Crest reacts. In an eerie way.

An unpleasant green light emanates from Taichi's Digivice, unlike the typical white of evolution. And his Crest turns black as pitch before it releases its energy. Greymon ankoku shinka.

The evolution for ankoku shinka or "Dark Evolution" is completely unlike the typical evolution. The transformation sequence is corrupted with unpleasant colors and a dark cloud appearing in the sky. Black energy with orange spirals pour into Greymon, causing him to take this new shape without the usual spinny stock footage and cry of "SHINKAAAAAAA!!!"

Even Tai seems to realize he's screwed up here, as his initial excitement quickly fades into an expression of horror.

Sora: T-That's.... Yamato: What's going on here? Tentomon: It can't be. That's SkullGreymon! Sora: SkullGreymon!?

The narrator chimes in here to give the rundown. SkullGreymon is a Perfect-stage Virus-type Skeleton Digimon.

Narrator: SkullGreymon. His menacing appearance reduces many Digimon to a quaking heap. Naturally, he has immense destructive power. He is a Perfect-stage Digimon who attacks persistently in battle.

Here, the dub has everything it needs for a seamless diegetic rundown. Tentomon is present on-hand, recognizes this Digimon, and has people to talk to when delivering the rundown.

Sora: What in the world!? Matt: What do you think that is? Tentomon: Oh my, is that what I think it is? Sora: What do you call that thing!? Tentomon: SkullGreymon. The sight of him makes other Digimon tremble! He is a fully Digivolved Digimon whose explosive power causes him to constantly search for battle!

"Fully". It's cute that you think that, Tentomon. To be fair to him, Perfect was the final stage until Ultimate was added later down the line. But it was already there by the time the anime was made and dubbed.

But yeah, this is basically a perfect diegetic rundown. Good work.

Koushiro's immediately convinced that this is wrong.

Koushiro: Th-This is bad! It looks like something went wrong and he evolved into something unbelievable!

But it's too late now. SkullGreymon begins to act, swatting the enemy Greymon into the air and launching them into Etemon's monitor. Then he fires the missile from his back.

SkullGreymon's signature move Ground Zero flies from his back, slamming into the monitor and exploding. The blast erases both the monitor and the opposing Greymon.

(RIP Other Greymon. Etemon said they were part of his annual show so I sure hope that means they were like a bandmate of his and not some sort of gladiator slave or something. Because they're stone dead now.)

Taichi, meanwhile, stares up at his "Partner" in disbelief.

Taichi: SkullGreymon! Did you really evolve from Greymon!?

In the dub, Tai more bluntly yells:

Tai: Listen to me, SkullGreymon! If you're really the Digivolved form of Greymon then you can't hurt me!

SkullGreymon responds by trying to smash him, provoking Garurumon and Birdramon to leap to his defense. Tentomon evolves as well to join the defense.

Three Adult-stage Digimon against a battle-hungry Perfect. While their battle tears up the landscape and shreds the black cables littered around.

Etemon: WAUGH!!! The Network! My network is ruined!

Over in the dub, Etemon hilariously tries to play this for sympathy.

Etemon: Oh no, my poor network! They're destroyin' everything that I worked so hard to create!

XD Sure, my dude. You're the victim here.

Back at the fight, SkullGreymon's as savage as we were promised. Birdramon, Kabuterimon, and Garurumon converge attacks on him, but he doesn't even flinch. Swatting them away as easily as the giant Devimon did before, SkullGreymon flees the Coliseum and races out into the desert beyond.

There, the dark evolution energy from Taichi's mistake finally runs out. He finally regresses, not just to Agumon but all the way down to Koromon.

As the group reaches Koromon, Taichi scoops him up in his arms.

Taichi: Are you okay!? Koromon: Yeah... But it looks like I did something terrible to you guys... I couldn't stop myself! Piyomon: Don't worry about it. Gabumon: That's right. Tentomon: We completely understand. Koromon: I'm sorry I couldn't rise to your expectations. Yamato: No! It's not your fault, it's.... Taichi: I know. It's mine. Yamato: That's not what I meant. Taichi: That's okay. It's true. Isn't it, Sora? Sora: Yes-- I-I mean-- Taichi: I was rushing ahead without even realizing it. Because I had the Crest, I felt like I had to fight the battles on my own. I'm sorry, everyone. (to Koromon) I'm sorry. Narrator: Although the next evolution stage was reached, it proved to be a mistake. Will they ever learn to evolve the right way?

We close on this somber moment, reflecting on Taichi's mistake. Neither forgiveness nor condemnation offered to him. Only a lesson learned and a hope to do better in the future.

The dub plays this all straight, including the narrator's closing dialogue. Of course, per usual, that's done diegetically.

Tai: You were finally able to Digivolve but it was a huge mistake. I wonder if our Digimon will ever be able to Digivolve the right way? One thing's for sure, I learned my lesson.

However what blows my mind in this final scene is that Koromon's voice is wrong. They have Mimi's actress playing Koromon and it's extremely noticeable. A huge departure from the usual performer who's been playing Koromon as recently as one episode ago. I have no idea why that happened.

Assessment: Here, at last, we're introduced to branching evolution paths and very specifically the concept of dark evolution, a rare occurrence in Digimon media but always a big deal when it comes up. Try to avoid putting your Digimon through that, yeah?

The dub for this episode has a couple of flaws in it, but I'd describe it as almost perfect. Like 95% of the dub for this episode was seamless adaptation, with some of the dub particulars like the diegetic rundowns fitting in perfectly. My biggest complaint here is that they messed up Sora's soccer anecdote, but that's small potatoes compared to some of the other episodes out there.

[edwards-hairball]

Nothing But a Cold, Dark, Empty Soul: Part 1

(I originally posted this fic on AO3 but thought I'd cross post here! I'll be fleshing it out more here as well so yay for Tumblr readers!)

Jess is new in Gravity Falls, arriving the Fall before the twins get shipped off to stay with their Grunkle Stan. She's running from something and looking for a fresh start in a new place where no one knows her. What better place than Middle of Nowhere, Oregon?

She's broke, looking for work, and desperate. Exactly what Stan Pines is looking for in an employee!

CW: Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI. Stan Pines/OC. This is not a slow-burn. I can't write it for shit. So please enjoy my self-indulgent garbage! And please read the tags after the break, those are the only warning you're getting!

The tags on AO3 are:

Not Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Age Difference, Sex, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Pre-Canon, Sugar Daddy, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Creampie, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Fingerfucking, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex Toys, Ford Pines is a Good Brother, Boat Sex

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

I pulled my packed car into the parking lot of a diner. What state am I in again? Right, Oregon. I've made it across three states with no angry phone calls or messages from my ex begging me to come back. 

I took a deep breath and shut off the engine before staring at myself in the rearview. Sad, gray eyes with dark circles underneath stared back. My black hair was greasy and frizzy from the humidity and lack of washing. My clothes certainly smelled like a garbage can at this point.

It was kind of sad that all my belongings were packed into my back seat. Even sadder, my wallet was all but empty from having to get gas so much in the last two weeks. My stomach grumbled and interrupted my depressed thoughts just long enough to push me inside the restaurant. 

The diner looked like a greasy spoon type of place, but those were always my favorites. I stretched before walking in.

A "seat yourself" sign and a "how manly are you" test flanked the door, and at the other end of the room was a pie display that clearly used to spin. A lumberjack and a couple kids that looked like they were his were eating pancakes in a booth, an old man was sipping coffee at the end of the bar, and a woman with a beehive hairstyle and a lazy eye was wiping down a table.

I slid into a clean-ish booth and sighed. A sticky menu sat propped against the window. 

One plate of eggs and toast later, I was reading a newspaper and my map. Where to next? That is, if my car even starts.

The bell on the door jingled, and a man in a suit and fez waltzed in with a smile. He was... odd. But no one else was fazed by him.

"Lazy Susan! How's my girl?" The woman at the counter rolled her good eye. He hummed as he walked closer to where I sat, and stopped dead when his eyes landed on me. He looked me over, as if reading my entire life story. Like my sorrows were printed on my forehead. He grinned at me.

"How ya doin'? You new in town?" I pulled my hands into my lap as he slid into the seat opposite me at the booth. This man made me a little nervous. "What, can't talk?"

"Uh... hi?" He chuckled.

"That's more like it! So, what's your name? Mine's Stan. Stan Pines. I run the Mystery Shack." Mystery Shack?

"What's that? Some kind of gimmicky tourist trap to trick people into spending too much money?" He sat back and crossed his arms before giving me a big grin.

"You get it! I like your moxie, kid. So, your name?"

I felt like giving my name would feel like a pact with the fae. But he was just some older guy with too much to say and no one to say it to. Why not humor him?

"Jess," I answered," sticking my hand out to shake. "And I'm just passing through."  He leaned on his elbows. 

"No one comes here when they're just passin' through. Closest interstate is fifty miles north. So, what really brings you to Oregon's asshole? Nothing here but my Shack, and you seem too smart to fall for it." The ease in which he called out my lie was astonishing.

"I'm kind of road tripping and trying to find somewhere to settle. Any ideas?" He pulled my map towards himself and grabbed a pen. He scribbled something things, crossed out a few towns, and then scratched out the entire state of Arizona. A small part of me appreciate it. I had no intention of going back soon.

"Hmm... well, not many places worth visiting. Course, I'm banned from all the surrounding states so I can't really go anywhere else, but if I were you, I'd stay here for a while!" His laugh made me think it was just a joke, but his over all demeanor told me it was at least half true. I had to laugh with him.

He was funny, if a little off-kilter. 

"Well, Mr. Pines, are there any cheap motels around here?" He rubbed his chin and looked out the window. I saw a Motel 6, something called Cheap Inn, and another motel that advertised hourly rates, but didn't have a sign otherwise.

"Eh, I wouldn't recommend any of these. Tell ya what, if you're sticking around, you need a job, right? I'm hiring! I'll even let you stay at my house, practically free." His smile... he sounded so confident. I knew I was face to face with a long-time con artist. But making a little money and having a free place to crash didn't sound too bad at this point. I'd been on the road for two weeks. I was keeping off the interstates and major highways, going on as many back roads and through as many small towns as I could. My car was for sure going to give out soon, and I couldn't afford to get it fixed.

"I think that's the best deal I've heard all day. What's the catch?" He chuckled and winked.

"Smart girl. I like you already. Catch is... nothin' in life is really free, kid. I'll pay you half wages in exchange for a place to lay that pretty head."

Shit. Half pay? What's the minimum wage in Oregon again? But... I have no other offers and I spent my last five bucks on breakfast.

"Not much of a choice, huh? I'll take your offer, Mr. Pines." I stuck out my hand to shake. He grasped it confidently. It was the kind of handshake you will think about the rest of the day. Strong and sure, even if what came out of his mouth was utter bullshit. At the same time, I felt like I just sealed my fate and would never see anything but towering pine trees and gimmicky taxidermy the rest of my life.

"Call me Stan. You done here? I can take you there now. Let you get settled, showered. Then it's right to work! I'm leading tours in two hours and I need someone to man the gift shop. The teen I hired is at school and I can't take people's money alone!" 

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

Chapter 2: Movin' In

Stan's A-Frame cabin in the woods had another shack built onto the side, forming the Mystery Shack part of the building. The sign on the roof looked like it was hanging by a thread. Otherwise, the outside was clean and maintained. Inside the public area of the Mystery Shack were trinkets, fake totems, tee shirts, and more things you would find in a kitschy gift shop. Snow globes, bumper stickers, bouncy balls, and even some shrunken heads. They looked real enough, but on close inspection, they were just silicone and plastic. A couple looked like Barbie heads that were painted green.

I lugged my duffel bag inside and he led me through an "employee only" door. It led into his home.

A bachelor pad. An old bachelor pad. Beer cans littered the surfaces, old photos on the walls, more shrunken heads and animal taxidermy, even a dinosaur skull as a side table. Fake, of course. It smelled vaguely of moth balls and Pabst Blue Ribbon. He directed me up the narrow stairs that creaked with every gust of wind outside. On the second landing were two bedrooms and a bathroom, then the attic was above us. 

"One on the left is mine. That's the only room off limits in here. Free roam otherwise. We have a tour group scheduled in an hour." He pushed the creaky door open. Inside was a dust-covered mattress on a bowed frame, a dresser, and a small, patchy rug. 

Better than I thought it would be.

I set my bag at the foot of the bed and turned to find a tee shirt being shoved into my hands.

"Uniform. Just a question mark tee shirt. Soos had an extra he's going to let you have. You... uh... may wanna wash it first. Just a nametag works for today." He handed over a blank one for me. I pinned it to my shirt and smiled. This wasn't the ideal situation, but it would save me money and get me a job. And maybe give me a chance to think about where to go next.

"I appreciate what you're doing for me," I said. He huffed. "I promise, it's only temporary. Once I get enough money to get on my feet, I'll be out of your hair." He shrugged. We walked out to the shop and he showed me the register and how to operate it, the no-refund policy, and told me that service with a smile is not nearly as important as I think it is.

With that, I was "fully trained."

People came and went all day to go on Stan's tour. I met Soos, and at the end of the day Wendy came in. She seemed pretty cool for a teenager. 

When Stan finally flipped over the open sign and locked the door, I clasped my hands in front of me. Stan glanced at me and hummed.

"What? You lookin' for me to say you did a good job?" My shoulders slumped a bit.

"No," I mumbled. 

"Well, you did. So... good job today? I don't know. I'm bad at this praise thing." I grinned and walked back into the house with him. "I don't care what you do now. You're off the clock. Go hang out around town, unpack, who cares." Stan shut himself into his office. I looked around the living room and kitchen area and my nose wrinkled. Not from the drab wallpaper or the small layer of dust on some of the surfaces, but because of the discarded cans and trash laying around. If I was going to live here, even temporarily, I needed to clean. Call it a leftover behavior from my last living situation, but I got it into my head that if I kept the house tidy, Stan would appreciate me being around.

I dug in the cabinets until I found the trash bags and some furniture polish. It took two bags to get the trash out of both rooms and the hallway. How much trash did this man accumulate? And how often did he actually clean? Thankfully, I didn't find any moldy food scraps or dishes. When I finally sat down, the communal areas of the house, including the bathroom, were spotless. I made a mental note to pick up some air fresheners to try and get out the smell of feet and stale cigars. And maybe rent a carpet cleaner for the rug.

I heard Stan's door open and I sat up from my slumped position. His eyes swept around in confusion.

"What the hell happened in here? Did a clean tornado come through?" My heart twisted. He's mad about my cleaning. "I mean, I appreciate it, don't get me wrong! I just... I don't expect you to clean up after me. I know I'm a pig, that's not your problem." Now it was my turn to be confused.

"Oh... I thought you were mad." I blushed at how stupid I sounded.

"How can I be mad? As long as you didn't throw out my bone collection, we're good!" I glanced at the jar of small animal bones on the shelf and a small grin started to spread across my face.

"Wait here," I said. I went out to my car and dug in a box until I found the jar I was hunting for. I brought it in and set it on the shelf right next to his jar of bones. My jar was smaller and a bit more decorative, but it contained similar contents.

His bones were those of rodents and other small mammals, while mine were of birds and lizards. He came over to look and gave me an approving smile.

"Glad to know you won't be grossed out by my bone collection. I'll make sure Soos doesn't touch yours when he's helping craft new exhibits." 

Stan helped me move the rest of my stuff out of my car before leaving me alone. The sun was down before I started to unpack my things and settle in. I dusted off the bare mattress and spread my own sheets on, dusted off the dresser and the inside of the drawers, and did my best to make the cramped space livable and comfy.

I made a mental shopping list. I couldn't afford any of it yet, but I wanted to make this as comfortable for myself as possible. Part of me wanted it to be temporary, but another small piece of me, at the back of my mind, was content with the idea of living in the woods where no one knows me.

I stretched out on the bed and took a deep breath. This was turning out to be a decent idea.

I just had a roommate.

A sixty year old roommate. 

A sort of handsome, eccentric sixty year old roommate with suspicious stains on almost every surface of the house.

The next morning, I got up early and cooked breakfast. If I keep Stan fed and happy, maybe he'll let me stay longer.

The smell of bacon and frying eggs must have woken him up. He trudged into the kitchen in a wifebeater and boxers. Without his fez, his gray hair was fluffy and ruffled from his sleep. It was... kind of cute, actually.

"Damn. Haven't woken up to that smell in years! What's the occasion?" I smiled as I served him a plate.

"No occasion. Just thought it would be nice to have breakfast." He eyed the toast suspiciously.

"So... you don't have any ulterior motives? Because you don't have to cook for me. Like the cleaning thing? You don't have to keep me fat and happy to stay here." Every time I did something for him, he told me I didn't need to. Was there something wrong with me? I stared down at my plate and sighed softly. But he heard it.

"Hey...  really do appreciate it. Just.... don't go to this trouble for me. I promise, I ain't worth the worry. Save your energy for yourself. I'll appreciate it a lot more when it's something I deserve. Okay?" I glanced up at him.

"But... you're letting me stay here. You aren't charging me rent." He held up a hand.

"I'm making you work for half of minimum wage in exchange for a dusty bed in a moldy room. Trust me, kid. Whatever saint you think I am... think again."

We ate in silence. Maybe Stan was right. I needed to stop trying so hard. But I wanted to do things for him.

"So, tell me about yourself. What's the whole mystery with you?" I choked on my coffee.

"No... ugh... no mystery." He raised and eyebrow.

"Nuh-uh. You can't fool me. I know what livin' in your car looks and smells like, doll face. You're tellin' me that a young, pretty thing like you has her whole life packed in that Camry, a burner phone, and just happens to be avoiding major highways just because? C'mon. Tell me what ya did. Who did ya kill?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I didn't do anything to anyone."

"Did you skip out on payin' your pimp or somethin'?" I glared at him. Never in my life was I called a prostitute until now. Don't get me wrong, I respect the profession. A girl's gotta make a living. But my ex loved to tell people he "saved me from working the corner" every time someone asked about me. It wasn't even true! I was a fast-food worker before he made me quit and be a stay at home girlfriend.

"Drop it, Stanford." He returned my glare.

"That better be the last time that name falls outta that mouth, kid."

"Then drop it." We were in a standoff. Glaring and seething at one another. Fuck, if I wasn't so desperate for cash, I would have slapped the shit out of him and ran. He finally relented.

"Fine. Sorry I called you a hooker. I'll do the dishes. Go open the gift shop."

I left the table quickly, only to get away from him faster. For some reason, he was making my blood boil this morning. All prior thoughts of him being handsome or cute disappeared during that conversation. But I did learn something very important about him in those moments.

Despite his initial kindness and offers to help, Stanford Pines is an asshole.

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Chapter 3: Routines, Anyone?

When he finally came into the gift shop, he was in his tight fitting suit. After seeing him at breakfast, my suspicions of him wearing a girdle were all but confirmed. No way he goes from beer-gut to hot in a suit without shapewear. He grunted at me as he passed to go out and greet a tour bus that was pulling up.

I plastered on my best fake smile as they came into the gift shop, selling and upselling left and right. Flirting with the older men, telling mothers that Christmas was right around the corner and these would make perfect gifts... And it worked. Maybe it was something in the Gravity Falls tap water, but everyone here seemed so gullible after Stan got done with them. Maybe it was just his charm. I wasn't fooled. I knew he could turn in a second.

But could he? Who really picked that fight? The more I thought about it, the more I saw him be charming and gentle with customers, the more I thought I had overreacted. He was just trying to get close to me.

He tried to get to know me, and I lashed out. And he took it on the chin, as if it were second nature. The realization made me feel like shit. I would have to apologize.

All day, I thought up something I could say or do to make up for my bitchiness but nothing came up. He didn't want me cooking or cleaning for him, he and I were strangers, and talking wasn't gonna happen. So what can I do?

I found my answer near the end of the week. We were cleaning up the showroom in the shed, and I noticed some new stains on Stan's suit. I decided to trick him into letting me do things around the house for him, including laundry. When he wasn't paying attention, I did some quick cleaning in the kitchen. I put a new laundry hamper in the bathroom and washed his clothes while he slept. It was a new routine.

Work in the day to make money, work at night to keep a roof over my head. Get up early to make breakfast for him, open while he gets dressed. I felt like a live-in maid, and I guess that's what I am anyway.

I knew he would catch on eventually, but I figured I had time before then. I relied on his mysterious absences in the evenings to mask my cleaning as "waiting up." Until he found me asleep on the couch with a dust rag in my hand and cleaning supplies on the floor.

At that point, it was early October. I'd been living with him for a month and a half, secretly cleaning for three weeks. I felt him pull the rag from my hand and opened my eyes to see him picking up the furniture polish and carpet shampoo. He gave me a disapproving look that only an old man can give.

"What the hell are you doin' kid?" I rubbed my eyes and sat up. "This isn't the first time I've caught you, you know."

Shit. Have I fallen asleep like this before? I didn't even remember. But I never woke up on the couch, so what happened? "Last time, it was hell carryin' you up the stairs. Help an old man out, eh?" I paled.

"I... I'm sorry." He grunted.

"None of that. I know you've been cleaning and bein' a maid for me while I'm out runnin' errands at night." He sighed and sat next to me on the sofa. He was in his boxers and tank top again, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. What does he do all night? As he stretched, I saw vague shapes of a concealed tattoo and some scars. "Knock off the cleanin'. And quit doin' my laundry. You ain't my maid. I already underpay you. You're makin' me feel guilty here."

I hung my head. I never meant to make him feel that way.

"I.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to feel like that, Stan." He glanced over at me.

"I've seen my fair share of bad coping mechanisms, doll. I'm not gonna contribute to someone else's. I'll drop it if you tell me why you insist on doing this shit. And neither one of us is goin' to be until you tell me, so you got no choice here." He watched me for a moment. Expectantly.

Shit.

"I... Fine. I figured that if I kept your house clean and you started to rely on me... you wouldn't want me to leave. Even if you got mad enough at me to kick me out. If I can't be wanted, I would be needed." He furrowed his brows.

"Have I made you feel unwanted?" I felt a lump in my throat and shook my head.

"No. Just... I came here because I was running from someone. My fiancé. Well, ex-fiancé now since I ran away. He always told me no one would want me around if not for him. I was nothing without him. Stuff like that. I wasn't wanted, but I did everything for him, so he needed me."

I felt a hand come down on my shoulder gently. I looked up from my lap. Stan had scooted closer to me and was giving me a sad look.

"I know how you fell, toots. Trust me when I say, that ain't how you wanna live. It ain't livin'. You gotta take care of you, no matter what everyone else thinks of you. I don't know what he told you, but you ain't worthless. You're nice. You're good at your job here. You're funny! I would want you here even if you didn't work for me. Tell you what. Take a week off, and relax. I'll still pay you and everything."

I knew he was just saying that to make me feel better, but it was working. He pulled me a little closer and I rested my head on his shoulder while he hugged me against his side. Stan was warm, inside and out.

"I was wrong." He pulled back with a smirk.

"About what?" My cheeks heated at having to admit this.

"You aren't a total asshole."

He chuckled and ruffled my hair before sending me to bed with a ban on cleaning the house.

As October inched onward, things were more calm. Tourists were slowing down.

One night after a slow day at the Shack, Stan cracked open the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. 

"Care to drink with me?" He's never offered before, but I didn't want to turn him down.

We sat in silence as we drank and watched an old horror movie. It wasn't too scary, but when you're curled up on a small sofa next to someone else, it's a little hard to pay attention. Half the bottle was gone by the time the film was over, but we had quit paying attention.

"... So then, the guy slams the car door and says, 'that's why I never deal with circus people!'" He busted out in laughter at his own joke, and I couldn't help but join him! His smile was infectious. He started asking me questions, though. 

"So, Jess. Tell me more about that asshole ex of yours! What made you finally leave him? I mean, awful as I am, you still stick around!" I took another sip. If I wasn't buzzed, I wouldn't have answered.

"He was a piece of work. Brandon... He was kinda violent. Always threatening me and... sometimes it was more than threats. I finally got the courage to get out. But I didn't tell him I was going, I just put my shit in my car and started driving. Back roads and cash only. I left my cell phone and got a burner so he couldn't track me. He was kind of intense like that. I'm still scared he'll find me." Stan draped his arm over the back of the couch. I felt brave, so I snuggled up to him.

My head rested on his shoulder and I gazed up at him. His large nose, his scruffy chin, his deep brown eyes... Maybe I am drunk. He's kind of handsome.

"Damn. I had an ex like that once. She was insane. I think she eventually left the country? Maybe even the dimension, I don't know." I snorted a laugh and covered my mouth.

"Dimension? That's a good one." He chuckled and took another sip. "So, yeah. I ended up here because I was running. Twenty-seven and running scared! So, I guess, thanks for giving me a place to crash while I think about where to run next." 

He gave me a weird look. Like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. He leaned marginally closer to me.

"I... I hope you don't run off too soon, you know. I kinda like having you around." I grinned and put my arm across the top of his beer gut.

"That's good. I kinda like being here with you." Stan froze and out of the corner of my eye I saw him grip the fabric of the worn sofa. His hand clenched around his glass and he tipped his head forward. His fez fell into his lap. His healthy crop of silver hair was messy from wearing his hat all day.

"Why do you wear that thing in the house? I get the gimmick for the tours, but in here? You're in your boxers, Stan!" He sighed.

"Just a little self-conscious, I guess. My hair ain't what it used to be." I couldn't help it. I reach up and ran a hand into his hair. What I thought would be wiry and greasy was soft and smooth. His eyes shut and he let out a sigh and I ran my fingers through the strands. My fingers massaged against his scalp gently and I heard him sigh in contentment.

"I don't know. I'd say your hair is perfect. I think you could get away with leaving the fez at home." I rested my hand on his cheek as he turned to look at me, and couldn't help but gaze into his brown eyes. They were a beautiful shade.

I wanted to lean in. I wanted to kiss him. But I was nowhere near drunk enough to think he would want it, too. His scruffy cheeks brightened pink and I pulled my hand away, my own cheeks heating. I sat up from where I rested against him and felt suddenly sober.

He rubbed the back of his neck before getting up and leaving without a word. I felt as embarrassed as him.

In the morning, I woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. When was the last time that happened? I walked down to the kitchen and found Stan, fully dressed, making pancakes.

"Mornin'doll! How'd you sleep?" I shrugged and joined him at the stove. "No, no. Siddown. It's my turn. I'll let you clean up when we're done." 

As we ate, the silence felt like it would choke me.

"So... about last night," he said. "Sorry if I crossed a line. I think I was pretty drunk." Crossed a line? I'm the one who went to bed and rubbed one out to the thought of him. I felt like a total perv!

"Stan, I'm the one who should apologize to you." He shook his head.

"No, no. I can't let you take the blame for something like that. I'm old enough to know better. I shouldn't be cuddled up on the couch with a chick young enough to be my daughter." My heart twisted. Sure, Stan was a con man. And older. And a little unstable. But it's better than my last situation. And I thought he was handsome. Maybe even attractive. Definitely attractive. The way his suit hugged his body made my mouth water.

"Oh." That's all I could say. "I'm sorry." He shook his head again.

"You're not getting the point. I don't need you to apologize. I'm apologizing to you. That's why I made breakfast. I don't want you to think I was taking advantage of you being drunk last night."

I reached my hands across the small table and grabbed his. He froze like he did the night before. 

"I wasn't drunk. And you didn't do anything wrong. I mean... I didn't mind us being on the couch together like that. I... I kind of... wanted to go further, if I'm being honest." His thumb brushed over my knuckles before he quickly pulled his hands away and put them in his lap.

"You don't know what you're sayin'. I think you need to take some time off. Take a few days off from the Shack. Go make some other friends." I furrowed my brows.

"I have plenty of friends here. I hang out with Wendy and Soos all the time! And I was just off for a week! Stan, I don't understand what I did wrong but-" I cut me off and stood from the table. He stepped over to my side of it and knelt in front of me with his hands on one knee.

"Jess. You didn't do anything. Okay? I am... dammit! I'm too old for this shit. I left last night because I felt... different. It didn't feel like we were roommates or coworkers. It felt too... domestic. I like having you around and I don't want you to go anywhere, but keeping you to myself feels like I'm taking advantage of someone who's brain was scrambled by an abusive ex. That's why I banned you from housework. I don't want you thinking there's no way outta here." I took his hands again and stared at his rings. 

"I don't feel trapped, though. I feel like I have a home to retreat to instead of needing to get away from my home. I'm not in constant fight or flight. I feel safe here. I fell appreciated." I looked into his brown eyes as he searched my face. 

"Dammit," he whispered. He pulled one hand away and rested it on his chest. "I'm way too old for this." He shook his head and leaned up to press a soft kiss to my forehead before he stood and walked out into the gift shop. I heard him flip the open sign and greet some people who were waiting outside.

I was frozen in place. He kissed me. Well, my forehead. But the way he looked at me just now made my heart flutter. Does he... like me? 

I cleaned up breakfast and sat with my hands under my thighs for a short while before Soos walks through with a broom.

"What's up, J-Dawg? You're all red. Are you sick?" I shook my head and looked down at my lap.

"Soos, I know this is a weird question. Is Stan.... does he date?" Soos rubbed his chin and hummed.

"I think.... the last date he went on was two years ago with some lady passing through town. Older than him. I think he was trying to get her money, though so I wouldn't count it. I can't remember the last time Stan was lookin' for love. You know?" He continued on with his chore and I sighed. That didn't make me feel better. 

I knew I was attracted to Stan, more or less. But how did he really feel about me? We've known each other for a month, and we live together. 

One way to find out how he really feels. Time to pull the shameless seduction card.

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Chapter 4: Dirty Mind

I had an extra Mystery Shack tee shirt. I grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting horizontal lines in it to make the chest look shredded, I cut the bottom to turn it into a sort of crop top, and I found my denim shorts. They went down to the knee, so a few quick snips made them short enough to show just enough butt cheek. My hiking boots and a beanie completed the outfit. The white camisole I wore under the cut up shirt still showed all my cleavage and the tightness of it pushed my breasts together perfectly. No bra, so my nipples could try and poke through. And a black lace thong, ready to make an appearance when I bend over. 

Is it too much? Maybe. But it's the quickest way to find out if Stan thinks I'm attractive. I certainly have no issue with the silver fox. 

If he's into you, he might not make you leave.

I shook my head to get rid of the intrusive thought. He isn't going to send me anywhere. He likes me living here. He told me that himself.

When the Shack was empty of customers, I walked out calmly. Stan wasn't in the building. I sat on the stool behind the counter and crossed my shaved legs. Maybe this will get his blood pumping.

The bell above the door jingled and Stan's footsteps halted. I was pretending to pick at my nails. I heard the door slam and the lock click. The sign flipped.

Stan's footsteps sounded angry. I glanced up when they stopped and I saw him leaning on the counter, palms flat against the wood. 

"What in the hell are you wearing?" My cheeks burned and I plastered on a smile.

"My uniform. See?" I gestured to my nametag, sitting low so it was right on one of my tits. His eyes drew over me.

"That's... not your uniform." I grinned and leaned forward to rest my elbows on the counter, giving him a view down my shirt.

"Aw, but isn't it cute? I made it out of my uniform!" I rested my left hand on the back of one of his hands and rubbed it softly with my thumb.

I hadn't tried to seduce anyone in years. I was surprised Stan was even tolerating this. His eyes watched my hand intently. The crease in his brow made me worry, only because he looked so angry but was silent.

Stan pulled his hand away from me and met my gaze. I bit my lip in what I hoped was a sexy expression.

"How dumb do you think I am to fall for this?" My smile dropped and my heart twisted. "No one is this desperate, kid." What the hell? He started to walk back into the house but I ran around the counter and grabbed his arm. He pulled away quickly.

"Stan, why can't you believe that I like you? God, you're such a jerk!"

"Because you aren't blind, you aren't senile, and you're thirty-three years younger than me! Don't set yourself up like this, kid. I ain't gonna end well." The hurt in my heart was turning to anger quickly.

"Dammit, Stanford, I like you! I want to spend time with you! I might even want to date you if you weren't such an ass!" 

He looked like he was short circuiting. His eye twitched. He gripped my shirt at my shoulder and pulled me into the house, slammed the door into the shop, and pushed me onto the couch. Just last night, we were snuggled up together. Now, he stood over me with his large arms crossed over his barrel chest. I sat with my knees together and my hands in my lap. 

I had poured my heart out about my ex, but now he was acting like Brandon.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Don't. You. Ever. Call. Me. Stanford." Was this his anger he was talking about once? He warned me that I didn't want to see him mad. 

I didn't let my fear show. I held my breath and rose up to look him in the eye. Almost. When he stood to his full height like this instead of slouching, Stan was a head taller than me.

"I see the way you stare at me when you think I'm not looking. You aren't as good at hiding it as you think you are." His red cheeks pinkened even more. I cracked a grin. "Even right now," I purred, "as mad as you are, you want me." I ran my hands up his arms and pressed myself against the obvious tent in his pants. He gripped my shoulders and tried to push me away again, but I grabbed his waist and clung to him.

"If you were smart," he said, "you would be running from me right now." His warning tone was chilling, but I just smiled and pulled him even closer.

"Good thing I'm a dropout, then." I leaned up and cupped his cheek, pulling him so my lips were a breath from his. He grabbed my hands and stopped me, pushing me away gently before stalking off. His bedroom door slammed and I heard a picture fall off the wall.

I pissed him off. Good.

The next part of my plan was even less subtle, but I needed to sneak into the laundry room and steal a shirt.

Lucky for me, it was laundry day, and Stan's shirts were in the dryer.

I quietly went in and pulled out the least stained one. Then I grabbed his fez from the table by the door. I could hear him in his room. Thin fucking walls.

He was talking to himself quickly. Hopefully, he was kicking himself for rejecting me. But if there's one thing I know how to do, it's double down.

I dressed in my new outfit and went about my business, cooking dinner for the two of us. Stan hadn't come out of his room yet, but the smell of food always works. Steak, baked potatoes, and carrots.

He came out of his room and I smiled to myself while I put his plate together. I heard his footsteps stop and he sucked in a breath when I bent over to pick up a fork I may or may not have dropped on purpose. 

I stood and turned to him with a smile. If looks could kill...

"What the fuck are you wearing?" I put both plates on the table and grabbed two beers from the fridge.

"Since you're always walking around in your underwear, I figured I could dress comfortably, too. I'm glad you started using my fabric softener."

The outfit in question was one of his white shirts (halfway unbuttoned), a black push-up bra, and the matching black lace panties. They left just enough uncovered when I bent over to make him blush, and when I stood straight, the shirt brushed the tops of my thighs. My black hair was loose and wavy, going down past my shoulders. His fez sat lopsided on my head. It was a little big on me.

Stan sat and gripped the side of the table. He eyed the food suspiciously, as if he thought it was poisoned.

"You're not gonna let up, are ya?" I pulled my chair close to him and crossed my legs under the table. My foot brushed against his calf. I heard his hands rub against the formica table as he gripped it. He kept his eyes on me.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Stan. I'm not doing anything." He snatched the fez from my head and I whipped my head to look at him. "Hey!"

"That's mine," he growled. "And this," he said, tugging the loose sleeve of his shirt, "is also mine. I want it back." I grinned. He's making this too easy.

"Okay!" I stood up and unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way, shrugged it off, and draped it over the back of his chair. His face turned a bright red as his eyes widened. "Is that better?" I sat back down and tried to ignore how self conscious I was about my fupa. I crossed my legs again.

"You're actually insane!" I shrugged and took a bite of my steak.

"Eat before it gets cold. Is rare, just how you like it." He slid his chair way from me before eating slowly. "So, are we good?" He scoffed.

"Good? I have an insane roommate who just stripped in front of me like it was nothin'. You're acting totally fine about me seeing you like this when you should be running for the hills! You should be thinking I'm too old and creepy for starin' at you!" I shrugged again and smiled. "Jeez, if I knew you were this unstable, I never woulda offered you a place to crash." It sounded like a joke, but that didn't take the sting away. My smile faltered and I looked down at my lap. 

This was a terrible idea.

"Hey, I know that look," he said. He moved his chair closer again. "It was a joke. I love having you around here. I just think.... damn. I think you should try to do better instead of settling for the first fella who was nice to you. Because I'm not nice! I'm an ass! You say it all the time!" I felt his shirt settle on my shoulders again. "Jess... I don't want you getting in over your head. I know you think you like me. But I'm not worth all this effort." I turned to face him, searching his pained expression.

"I think you are," I whispered. "You make me feel like a person again. You make me laugh and you don't make me do things that would hurt me just to make you laugh." I pressed my forehead into his shoulder. "You're good to me, and I want to be good to you. Even if you think you aren't good for me." Stan wrapped his arms around me and I gripped him by the shirt so he couldn't push me away.

"Kid... shit. You're really not gonna forget it, are you?" I shook my head. "Okay. Fine. You win! We can try. I can't lie to you, I think you're good lookin'. Have since I saw ya. But I'm old enough to be your father." I lifted my head to look at him.

"I don't care about that. I'm sick of guys my age." He sighed and kissed my forehead. 

"Full disclosure, then. I've got an ex-wife and probably a couple kids somewhere I don't know about, and I'm not getting married ever again. So don't get your hopes up for something like that." I sniffed and wiped my eyes.

We ate in silence, then Stan cleaned up while I went to put on some actual clothes. Sweatpants and one of Stan's tank tops I had stolen. He gave me a disapproving look, but sat on the couch with me anyway.

"So, for our first date, we're going to snuggle and watch Downton Abbey. It's a 1920's drama." He groaned and put his arm over the back of the couch while I hit play.

"Really? I usually wait until the third date before the masochism starts." I blushed and scooted closer so I could rest my head on his shoulder. 

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Chapter 5: Domesticity or Some Shit

The first time Stan took me out on a date, it was a crisp October evening, after the Shack had closed. I was told to dress warm. He was wearing a pink sweater that looked homemade.

"Cute sweater, Stan. I like the letters." His name had been stitched onto it sloppily. He grinned and puffed his chest with pride.

"My niece knitted this for me! Mabel is great at crafts. She makes all her own sweaters. And she's only twelve! She sent it to me for my birthday last year." I grinned. He loves his family.

We hopped into my car and he gave directions while I drove us down the winding country road. I didn't trust him to drive after last time. He directed me down a dirt road and we eventually came to a pond. There was a fire pit and some logs arranged around it. Two fishing poles sat against a decaying dock, and an old rowboat was tied off. The Stan 'o War was painted into the side. 

"This is my secret fishing spot," Stan said proudly. "It's a little cold for fishing, but I brought a picnic. I figured we could... I don't know... maybe go out on the pond for a bit? Sit in nature?" He was blushing!

I hugged him and hummed.

"I would love to! And when it gets warm, I'd love to go fishing with you. I've never done it before!" He pulled back from our hug and gave me a questioning look.

"Never been fishing? What gives!" I pushed him playfully.

"Not enough water in Arizona, Stud. I would've if I lived anywhere near a river, but it was no good for fishing where I was at." I followed him to the rowboat and he set his basket inside before taking my hand and helping me step in. He untied it, pushed off, and landed on the seat in front of me. It was kind of impressive.

"You're good at that," I said. He hummed.

"Years of practice. Nothing special, anyone could do it." He rowed us out to the middle of the pond before stopping. I closed my eyes and felt us bobbing gently in the ripples of the pond.

It was quiet out here. Utterly peaceful. The only sounds were the water lapping at the boat, the rustle of the falling leaves as a breeze blew in, and the occasional bird call or woodpecker. It was perfect.

Stan didn't speak for a long time while I looked at everything around us. I caught him staring at me, and we both looked away blushing.

It felt like we were teenagers on a first date. Nothing to talk about, just being together. And being awkward. Our knees were touching in the small space we shared. I reached my hands out to take his and rubbed my thumbs across his knuckles. 

"It's beautiful out here. I'm glad you shared your secret spot with me." He sniffed and looked out over the water. 

"Beauty deserves to be shared with the ones you care about." I didn't expect something poetic to come out of Stan. He seemed conscious of what he said and backtracked. "Or something like that. I heard that on the drama shows you like so much." His face was a bright red. 

The sunset cast a beautiful orange glow over the pond, making it look like a pool of fire. If it were warm out, I would want to swim in it. But I settled for snuggling next to Stan on his bench and watching the sun sink below the treeline. Crickets were chirping, frogs were groaning, and the woodpecker was still pecking away at a tree.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and couldn't help but smile. 

I felt calm for the first time in a while. No more panicked feeling when it was quiet. I wasn't constantly wondering if he was mad or not. His strong arm around me said everything. A chill breeze blew through and I huddled closer to Stan to keep warm. His arm tightened around me.

When the sun finished its descent into nothing, he let me go and we rowed together back to shore. We tied off the boat and he held my hand as I stepped onto dry land. Well, mostly dry. The mud caught me just right and I slipped to the ground, accidentally yanking Stan down with me. His hands were planted firmly on either side of my head as his chest hovered just above me. I giggled and he looked torn between standing up or staring at me. His cheeks were red and he was breathing hard. 

Before he could get away, I took my chance and leaned up to kiss him. I held his strong jaw in my hands as I moved my lips against him.

He was frozen for a moment after I pulled away. His eyes were wide. My cheeks were bright red. I've never blushed so much in my life! He rolled off of me and stood up, offered me a hand, and pulled me up into his arms. In one fluid motion, he pulled me from the ground, into his embrace, and bent down to press his lips to mine. My arms flew around his neck as I kissed him back. 

Stan was passionate. It was a slow dance of tongues and lips and teeth. He pulled back and looked into my eyes before kissing my cheek, then my jaw, then the side of my neck. He sucked slightly and nipped at me until I let out a soft groan. I ran my fingers into his hair and gripped slightly. He pulled away and smirked.

"If you'd have told me all I had to do to kiss you was to throw you into the mud, I would've done it sooner." I couldn't think. I just kissed him again. 

Stan made my head spin. Great kisser, gentle with my feelings, and lately he's been such a gentleman that I can hardly believe it's the same person. Except when he starts leading a tour and the con artist comes out. Then I remember who I'm dating.

We loaded back into the car and I let him drive home as long as he promised to stay on the road and go slow. Part of me was itching to ask him something, but I didn't want to spring it on him. What if he didn't like the idea?

"Hey, Stan?" I was starting to feel shy all of a sudden. 

"Hmm? What's up, doll?"

"What do you want to be for Halloween? It's in a week. I don't know know if you dress up, but I think it would be cool to run a haunted house in the shack." He grinned and reached out to grip my thigh.

"I love Halloween! It's a huge deal here! I was going to be a vampire or something. Do you have any ideas? All of us could dress up to match, or we could be different monsters if you wanted." I was surprised he liked dressing up.

"Well... we could be monsters, that sounds fun. So, vampire? Frankenstein's monster? Mummies?" He squeezed my thigh before putting his hand back on the wheel.

"I haven't been Frankenstein in years. Mostly because no one will help me with the green makeup. Think you're up to the challenge?" I nodded.

"Only if you help me with my costume." 

"You got a deal, kid. So, what's your idea?" I grinned.

"I can't tell you yet. But I'm going to need the day off tomorrow to go into the city. Gotta get supplies. I'll pick up some stuff for your costume, too." 

"Do you need some money? I can send you with my wallet as long as you promise not to spend too much." I was shocked, to say the least.

"Stan Pines, you once asked me to reimburse you fifty cents for a packet of ketchup! Why would you give me your entire wallet?" He chuckled as we turned into the drive of our little cabin.

"Well, fine. I'll keep my money and not pay you back for the costumes!" I huffed and crossed my arms. He leaned over to kiss me before getting out. I tried to open my door, but he pushed it shut again and pointed at me through the window.

"When I'm around, doll, you do not open your own car door! It's a man's job to pamper his lady!" He pulled the door open and offered a hand. 

Once we were inside, showered, and cozy, we snuggled up on the couch and watched another episode of Downton Abbey. 

I must have passed out in the middle of it, because when my eyes opened, it was quiet in the house and Stan had pulled a blanket over the two of us. He was laying on the sofa with me on top of him, my head on his chest, and his arms around me like I was his teddy bear.

I tried to get up, but he gripped me tighter and his eyes fluttered open. 

"Where you goin', doll?" I snuggled into his chest again and smiled. "Need to go to bed?" I nodded. He let me get up and he stretched as he stood. His back popped in too many places to be comfortable. I walked to my room and he started to go into his own, but stopped and turned to come join me in my bed.

He took up most of the full mattress, but I managed to cuddle up to him and use his arm as a pillow. He was so warm in the cold house. We fell asleep quickly wrapped up in one another.

He saw me out the door in the morning with a kiss on the cheek and his wallet. No cards, cash only, and don't give anything to panhandlers. Those were his rules.

Since it was Saturday, I swung by Wendy's and offered to take her. She didn't have any older sisters to hang out with, so I felt like it was my job to be the big sister to her.

She hopped into my car and buckled up before we sped off towards the highway.

"Why do you have Mr. Pines' wallet?" She asked, eyeing the folded leather in the center console of my Camry. Do I tell her? I thought better of it.

"Oh, I'm picking up some stuff for him while we're in town and he handed it to me. He feels kinda guilty about paying me half, I guess." Her eyes widened.

"He's only paying you half? Damn! Even I make more than you!" I shrugged.

"For free housing and food, I'd let him pay me nothing. Especially if he keeps handing over his wallet like this." She shrugged.

"So, what are you guys going to be for Halloween? You said something earlier about doing a Haunted Shack?" I grinned and nodded.

"Stan wants to be Frankenstein's monster, so I was thinking something similar. Matching costumes, ya know?" 

"Isn't that like... a couples thing more than a roommate thing?" I couldn't fight the blush on my cheeks. It would be the death of me someday. "Oh my god!" She shrieked and covered her mouth. "You and Stan?! He's a total grandpa!" I bit my lip and giggled nervously. "Are you serious?"

I nodded and stared at the road ahead of us. 

"How do you even... like... Like someone like him? He's a total con man, and he's old enough to be your dad!" I was getting tired of hearing that.

"He's really sweet, Wendy! And I think he's cute." She faked a gag and laughed. "Make fun all you want, but he's basically a big teddy bear and he loves to cuddle." 

"I'm sorry, I respect your relationship, but it's just weird! I've known Stan my whole life and he's always been super gruff. I mean, he was nice to me because he thinks I'm a little lady or something, but I've seen him get pretty nasty with people."

"... can I tell you something gross?" I asked her. I was bursting to talk to someone about it! She nodded. "Stan's a great kisser." 

"Ew! I did NOT want to know that!" She squealed. We talked and laughed the whole way to the mall.

Once there, we went to a party supply store to find cheap scare stuff, party lights, and I even found a Frankenstein makeup set for Stan. I looked forward to painting him green.

We grabbed lunch in the food court and I let her go into another costume store while I eyed the lingerie store next door. Maybe Stan would like a surprise? 

I slipped into Veronica's Top Drawer and looked at a few displays. The thongs looked more like dental floss and the bras looked like the underwire would call me trashy. I looked at a few sets, then at the night gowns. 

I grabbed a black lace one that came down to my upper thigh. The sheer fabric was cool to the touch. Next I walked to the back where they had a themed display, along with a few sex toys. The theme was Monstrous Beauties, and the first one I saw was the bride of Frankenstein. Dark green with white webbing. It looked promising. I grabbed one in my size and pulled out my own wallet for it. 

As an afterthought, I threw in a vibrator. I didn't have mine anymore and sometimes a girl needs to have some fun. I met back up with Wendy while she was looking at zombie costumes.

"Is that what I think it is?" She eyed the bag. I grinned.

"None of your business, missy. So, what are you gonna be?" I pulled a bride of Frankenstein makeup kit off a shelf. "Maybe... a slasher lumberjack?" She rolled her eyes. "Ooh! How about a devil?" I pointed out the costume and she tapped her chin.

"Since you two are going for classic horror, maybe I should be.... Dracula? Oh! Soos can be the Wolf Man! I know his size." She grabbed two costumes and I snagged a couple gallons of fake blood.

"Think you and your dad can make some wooden tombstones for some decorations?" She agreed and at checkout, I used Stan's money to pay. I felt weird, having a man's wallet when he wasn't with me. He trusted me with it, I guess.

On the drive back home, Wendy kept pestering me with questions about Stan.

"So, is he like... your sugar daddy?" I laughed out loud and shook my head.

"No! He handed me his wallet one time! He's just... I like him. We have similar interests. He likes period dramas and being outside. He promised to take me fishing when it gets warmer."

I dropped Wendy off at the lumber mill and brought all the costumes back to the Mystery Shack. Stan was about to start another tour. I decided I would sit in on it for once, and took a spot at the back. He hadn't noticed me yet.

He led us through the shed out back and showed off some fake exhibits, tricked some people into thinking he had a magical amulet, and called for a volunteer to touch it. I raised my hand.

"What does the amulet do?" I asked. He chuckled and cleared his throat.

"It uh... it makes the person who touches it fall madly in love with you while you're holding it!" A few people raised their hands, but Stan called on me. Dishonest, much? 

I waltzed up and he held the amulet out to me. I took hold of the copper pendant and looked him in the eyes. He grinned and a blush formed on my cheeks.

To play into it, I stepped closer to him and ran my free hand up his chest and batted my lashes at me. He let out a laugh as I cupped his cheek and I tugged him down to kiss me. He quickly pulled away and I dropped the part I was holding. The people gasped and clapped.

"See? Dangerous magic! Sorry about that, young lady." I batted my lashes at him and he finished off the tour in the gift shop. I went to my car to get the bags out and I hid my costume in my closet, threw the underwear into the laundry, and started cooking dinner.

It was nearly ready when Stan came in. He left his fez by the door and came up behind me while I stirred the soup. His arms wrapped around my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder. 

"How was your day, doll?" I turned and kissed his cheek.

"Great. I took Wendy with me, and we came up with ideas for the haunted tour. She's going to make some wooden tombstones and all of us are going to dress up as classic horror monsters. Frankenstein, Wolfman, a Mummy, things like that." He nodded approvingly. "How was your day? Make any money?"

"Of course! I always do. Gonna need some new attractions, but I'll do that in the off season. In winter, we're pretty much shut down thanks to all the snow. It's a good break. And I make enough in the summer and fall to support it." I served up two bowls of soup and left the rest to cool so I could freeze it later. Meal prep has become more important to me lately. Maybe it's because I'm used to cooking for more people, or maybe because I'm paranoid that I'll be left alone with nothing. Either way, we have something to eat later on.

After a quick dinner and tossing the laundry in the dryer, I went to wash the day off of myself. I thought back to my new toy and realized something. 

I used to dread the idea of someone thinking I had any kind of sexuality, until I met Stan. I wanted him to see me as someone desirable. Before him, I didn't even like being touched. Now, I didn't want him to keep his hands off of me. I was going out of my way to be touched and seen by him.

I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom to go check the dryer. Done! As I bent over, I heard Stan whistle and I shot up. He laughed and I felt him come up behind me.

"I didn't think I'd get that kind of treat today. Is that my reward for paying for your girls day?" I turned and gave him an innocent look.

"Oh, you haven't gotten your reward yet, Stud. Give me a few minutes, and I'll see if I can get that heart of yours going." He kissed my forehead.

"You don't have to try to do that, sugar. But go ahead. I'll be on the couch." I grabbed the lingerie from the dryer, threw the matching set into my closet next to my costume, and pulled the nightie on, along with a black thong I already had. Time to make that man's heart stop.

I wrapped up in my blanket and waddled to the living room, where Stan sat with our Downton Abbey dvd ready to go. He grinned.

"Awe, you're cute. Come here, sugarpot." I grinned and took off the blanket, tossing it to the couch. His mouth opened for a moment before he quickly closed it and pulled the blanket over his lap. "What's... uh... what're you wearing?" I giggled and took my seat next to him.

"Just being comfy again. So, what episode are we on?" His arm came around me and I turned so my back was against his side and my feet were on the seat next to me. If he moved his arm right, he would be grabbing my tits. I let my head rest back on his shoulder. 

"Uh... huh? What?" I giggled and grabbed his hand to hold it.

"What's wrong, Stud? See something you like?"

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Chapter 6: Stan is a Munch, Change My Mind

Note: This is the first of many smut chapters. This will be your last warning, this gets gratuitous.

Stan didn't pay much attention to our nightly routine after I walked out in that nightie. He stayed as still as possible while I rested against him. When the episode ended, I was playing with the hairs on his arm, twirling them together and smoothing them out. 

With no warning, I took his hand and placed it over my breast. He jumped and pulled his hand away. 

"What are you doing, kid?" I turned to him and grinned.

"Rewarding you," I purred. I climbed into his lap and bent down to kiss him. His hands rested respectfully on my waist. He kissed me back softly. His five o'clock shadow scratched my neck just right when he moved to kiss my jaw. I ran my hands up his chest, his neck, and into his soft hair. He was still in his Mr. Mystery suit with his tie hanging undone around his neck. 

"Have I ever told you how hot you are in this suit?" I asked. He chuckled and nipped at my neck again. "It makes me crazy." His hands slid from my waist to my ass so he could thumb the hem of my skimpy gown.

"Did I pay for this?" He asked. I shook my head and wiggled in his lap to get some friction going. His head tilted back and his breath hitched.

"If you did, it wouldn't be much of a present for you." He gave me a sly smile.

"I'm paying for the next one." He leaned up and nibbled the shell of my ear before whispering, "I like this on you. And I can't wait to see what it looks like on on the fucking floor." My stomach fluttered and my heart sped up. This old man could talk dirty! He gripped my ass and let his head fall back and he helped me grind on his lap. His erection pressed up at me. He pushed and pulled me against it as we kissed. I took his glasses and set them aside, and Stan pressed his face between my tits and inhaled deeply.

"God, you smell amazing!" His scratchy voice went straight to my pussy. He halted my desperate grinding and looked up at me with a smirk. "Are we just going to dry hump like teenagers, or are we gonna get to it?" My flushed face felt even more heated. He was asking permission? I can't remember the last time my partner asked permission to have sex with me.

In the time we had been together, this was the closest we've ever gotten to sex. My thong was soaked through and I could see my arousal leaving a dark spot on his slacks. I reached down and started to unbutton his shirt. He rested his hands on my hips as I revealed all his chest hair and his gold chain. I pushed the shirt from his shoulders and ran my hands up through his chest hair, tugging gently on the longer strands. He let out a soft sigh. I gripped his gold chain and he opened his eyes to see me pulling him into another heated kiss. His grip on my ass tightened and his tongue darted into my mouth to explore. I ran my hands down his chest again while he pulled at the nightgown roughly. I felt the thin fabric start to rip.

What a waste of thirty bucks. He ripped the rest of the garment from me so the straps of it slid down my arms. His eyes widened when he saw my bare chest. I pulled it from my arms and tossed it to the floor, just for him.

His hands came up to cup my breasts and he tweaked my nipples with his thumbs. I twitched under his touch and my pussy throbbed with the need to have him in me. He sucked one of my nipples into his mouth and I let my head fall back as I moaned.

"God, Stan!" I whimpered. He chuckled darkly.

"That's what I like to hear, baby." One of his hands slid down between us and tugged my thong to the side. Then he gripped me by the thighs and stood up, turned, and dropped me onto the sofa.

The fireplace behind him cast shadows over his exposed chest and his ruffled hair. His strong arms and the hickeys I had left on his neck made him look like a dangerous man, but then he knelt in front of me and put his hands on my knees.

"Show me how you like to touch yourself, doll. Show me what I do to you." He rubbed his hands up my thighs and grabbed my panties before slowly dragging them down my legs. He pressed them to his face and inhaled deeply before shoving them into his pocket. "Well? Use those fingers, show me what you like." 

I was shy about this. He must have seen my hesitation, because he leaned up and kissed me again. "I want to know what you like so I can make you feel good, baby." Stan took my hand and guided it down between my legs. Then he grabbed my ankles and pushed my legs up so my feet were on the sofa, making me spread my legs to accommodate the position. It made my stomach fold and roll and Stan grinned lecherously at my pussy. 

I slowly started to work my middle finger in a circle around my clit. Stan watched as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. I dipped a finger into my hole and pulled more arousal out before circling my clit again. With his hands, he pulled my pussy lips apart so he could watch everything.

I started to go faster and I was writhing under my own touch and his hard gaze. Somehow, having him watch was more erotic than if he did this himself. I saw him lick his lips. He looked up and locked eyes with me to make sure I was watching when his tongue darted out and licked a stripe up through me. I whimpered and kept moving my fingers and circling my clit. He licked through me again before he grabbed my wrist to stop me from making myself come. I whined at him.

He sucked my fingers into his mouth to clean the arousal off of them. 

"Hands in my hair, doll," he growled. I obeyed and he ducked down to circle my clit with his tongue. One of his large fingers pushed into me and I gripped his hair by the roots to keep myself from moaning out loud. He pulled his mouth away from me for a moment. "I want to hear you, baby. I want to hear what I do to you." He dove back in and thrust two fingers into me quickly. The stretch of them made me fear what his cock would do.

Stan latched onto my clit and sucked at it hard before laving his tongue over it repeatedly. My hips bucked and my whimpers were getting louder. Every flick over my clit, every curl of his fingers, every satisfied grunt from his throat pushed me closer and closer to the edge.

"God, baby, you taste so good."

All at once, the knot in my stomach snapped and I screamed while he continued to thrust his fingers into me and curl against my g-spot. I felt myself clench around him and I fisted his hair hard as I rode the wave of my orgasm. My throat was sore and my body was spasming with aftershocks. He had a satisfied grin on his face. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and sat back. My feet dropped to the floor and I covered my face to try and regain some composure.

"That's my girl." I heard him get up and go wash his hands before he returned and dropped onto the sofa next to me. His clothes were still on and the tent in his pants was still present. I reached a hand out, but he gripped my wrist.

"Not yet, doll. This was a reward for me, right? Well, I got my reward. Next time, I promise I'll let you. Now, do you want a shower or do you want to go to bed like that?" I didn't want to move at all. No one had ever made me come so hard. Even though it was only once, it was intense. And he didn't want anything in return. 

He finally convinced me to get up and go take a shower. He hopped in after me and by the time he came into my room, I was snuggled up in bed. He was in his boxers and wife beater. He set his glasses on the bedside table and climbed in next to me.

It seemed we would be sharing a room for a while.

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Chapter 7: So... About That...

We shut down the Shack two days before Halloween to set up. Wendy was in charge of putting up the posters around town while Stan, Soos and I set up the scares and traps in the shack and the shed outside.

"So, you gonna tell me what your costume is, doll?" Stan asked while we hammered the wooden headstones into the ground. I grinned.

"I told you already, you'll have to wait to find out!" He huffed.

"And what if I bust in on you while you're putting it on? I'll find out that way." I crossed my arms and looked up at him.

"You do that, and you don't get any treat at the end of the night." He gasped.

"But... but it's Halloween! I'm supposed to get a treat!" 

"It's called trick or treat. And if you pull that stunt, no treat. You can't have both, Stan." Soos walked by as we were talking.

"Woah! A treat? What kind? Can I have one too? I promise I'll be good on Halloween! What's the treat, Jess?" I blushed and stammered while Stan rubbed his hand over his face in frustration.

"No, Soos... not... oh god!" I covered my face. I knew better than to flirt with Stan in front of people, but I couldn't help myself! The only person who knew about us was Wendy. Otherwise, we kept it a secret. Both of us agreed to it. So why did I have to go and blab in front of Soos?!

"Oh, is it a roommate secret? Like his treat is that he gets the remote?" Thank you for being stupid, Soos!

"Yes! Yeah, it's like that. Stan, if you aren't nice on Halloween, you don't get the remote for a week." Soos seemed satisfied with that and went back to hanging spider webs.

I went into the house and Stan followed behind me quickly. I felt his hand come down on my ass quickly and I whirled to see him grinning.

"Almost told on us, doll," he said with a sly grin. I glared at him.

"If you weren't so damn irritating, I wouldn't have said anything!" I was flustered and mad and Stan was laughing about it!

"Aw, you're cute when you're all red!" I let out a groan and reach up to grab his ear to shake his head. He laughed more. "Stop it! Oh, my side!" 

"You're so mean!" I growled out. He chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"And you're cute when you're mad at me." He tilted my chin up as I glared. "You gonna stay mad, or can I kiss ya?" 

I still glared at him, but I grabbed his tie and yanked him down to meet my lips. The kiss was quick, but he still grinned like he won. Stan took my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He reached under his shirt and pulled off his gold chain before stepping behind me and clasping it around my neck. I touched it and gave a puzzled look in the mirror.

"What's this for?" He shrugged. 

"I uh... I guess I don't mind people knowin' about us, y'know? Unless you don't want them to! I totally understand if you don't want to be seen with this old shyster." My anger slowly evaporated and I leaned back to rest against him. His hands found my hips and he kissed just behind my ear.

"I'd love to tell people, Stan. Maybe just... ease into it. Wouldn't want everyone in town thinking I'm after your money. Or that you're a pervy old man." He chuckled and squeezed my ass before he kissed down my neck and bit down on me. My head fell back and I let out a soft moan. Why did I let him give me so many hickeys? At this point, he was taking advantage of my kindness.

"You are a pervy old man," I accused. He kissed my cheek one more time and led me back out into the shack. My vision was coming along nicely!

I grabbed some fake blood and a paintbrush so I could start slapping it onto the windows. 

Handprints, strips that look like someone got their throat cut, and a few splatters on the door later, it was perfect! 

Soos and I admired our handiwork before going inside for a couple beers. 

"That's a cool chain, Jess," Soos said. I blushed. "You and Stan trying to match or something?" 

"Something like that," Stan laughed as he dropped next to me on the sofa and handed me a drink. He threw his arm over the back of the couch. "Great work today, both of ya." 

"So, uh... Jess. Since Halloween is in a couple days and we're closed tomorrow, I was wondering.... would you want to... uh... maybe catch a movie tomorrow night? With me? Like a date?" My heart twisted. I didn't want to hurt Soos' feelings! Stan's Hans came down on my shoulder. 

"Uh, Soos? Not... not as a date. Sorry. I don't feel that way about you. I'd still love to go, just... as friends. I can't date you." He looked sad.

"Is it my looks?" How insecure was this guy? 

"No! Not at all. I'm just... I'm seeing someone. And I really like him and we've been together for a month already." I looked over at Stan and he looked touched.

"Who is it? I can ask his permission!" Good God!

"I don't need permission to go with a friend, Soos." He put a hand up.

"No, no. A man once taught me that I should ask permission before treating someone else's lady to a good time." That sounded like something Stan would say, actually. "So, who is it so I can ask permission?" I felt Stan's grip on my arm tightened.

"She doesn't belong to anyone like that, Soos. I'm sure her boyfriend wouldn't care. You're a super trustworthy guy." Did Stan not want to tell Soos? "Here's an idea. Just watch a movie here! I got plenty of old horror movies." Soos seemed to like that idea. "Here, let's throw one in now! I got this DvD of a newer one that Jess was talking about." He popped it into the player and I made popcorn.

I took up my spot next to Stan, but didn't snuggle like I wanted to. Soos sat on the floor in front of us. 

The opening to Paranormal Activity played and I grinned.

"I didn't think you'd remember! I've been wanting to see this since it came out, but Brandon never let me. Said it would invite evil into the house or something." Stan gripped my hand. It occurred to me that I had mentioned my ex by name and didn't feel scared. Maybe I was getting over it.

The first jump scare didn't get me. The movie seemed kind of cheesy. I wasn't a huge fan of found footage films. Soos was glued to it and Stan eventually got me to relax and I let him fiddle with my hair while I snuggled into him. 

Th final big scare of the movie actually surprised me, and I yelped when I jumped and hid my face in Stan's neck. He chuckled and held me tighter. I was practically sitting in his lap when the credits rolled. Soos stood up and stretched. I tried to scramble out of Stan's lap, but he held me firm.

"You move, you're gonna show him what you do to me, doll," he whispered. I felt his erection brush my arm and I blushed. Soos turned to face us and his eyes widened.

"Dude! Her boyfriend is gonna be mad if he finds out about that! Why're you cuddled up with him?" My cheeks were a bright red. Stan grinned and kissed my temple.

"Her boyfriend doesn't mind at all. In fact, he likes it very much." I didn't know what to say. "Soos, ya look confused. It's me. Stan is her boyfriend. Me. She's my girl. And I don't care if the two of you hang out. You're a good kid." I detached myself from Stan and ran to my room. I locked the door behind me and curled up on the floor against it.

This is so embarrassing! I didn't want to tell Soos like that! He deserved better. And he looked so hurt!

A while later after I stopped crying, someone knocked on my door.

"Sweetie, you okay? Can I come in?" I sniffed.

"No, I'm mad at you!" I called back. I heard Stan sigh, then I heard him sit on the floor, and felt the door shift when he sat against it. "Why did you tell him that way? You hurt his feelings."

"It woulda been worse if he found out another way," he said. "Soos is tough. He's not even upset. He actually congratulated me on finding someone who can put up with me." I wiped my eyes. "I just... I wanna show you off, you know? You're great and I want everyone to see it. I also want to rub their noses in it! They said I could never make a woman happy!" I cracked a smile and reach up to unlock the door.

He came in and scooped me off the floor. Until dating Stan, I didn't think an old man could have the strength for it, but he must work out or something.

I giggled as he dropped me onto the bed and climbed over me to pepper my face with kisses.

"No more cryin' sugar," he ordered between kisses. I was a giggling mess by the time he was done and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him. He was propped up on his hands. I laid back again and Stan wiggled his eyebrows at me before yanking the covers over us and disappearing under them.

I felt him press his nose into my crotch and my hands shot down to grip his hair. I whimpered as he started rubbing my clit through my shorts. 

"Stan, please!" I hear him chuckle under the quilt.

"What're you begging me for? Use your words, princess."  He hooked his finger into my shorts and started to pull them down. I lifted my hips for him. "Oh, you're so good to me." I couldn't see him, but I could feel him. His tongue licking through my folds, his teeth biting my inner thighs, his lips suckling my clit. His fingers slipping into me and curling just right. I was writhing under his touch and my hips bucked with every circle of my clit.

I tugged his hair and my eyes screwed shut as I came around his hand.

"God, Staaan!" My body was still spasming when he pulled his fingers out of me and crawled up to poke his head out of the blanket. He kissed my neck before licking his fingers. I reached up to stroke a hand down his face.

"Will you let me touch you yet?" I asked. He hummed and kissed me again. He was nervous about me seeing him naked.

"Tell you what. Keep the lights off and don't look, and I'll let ya ride the stallion." I reached up to the light switch by the bed and flicked it. The only light was the moon coming through the window. I saw Stan smile. "You really want this? Okay, you win. Gotta warn you, though. I can still buck like a racehorse." 

He got off of me and I covered my face while he undressed. I felt the bed dip again and the blanket moved. I looked to see Stan laying next to me under the quilt. He looked nervous. I grinned and sat up to take my shirt off. 

I moved to straddle his lap and I reached between us. He closed his eyes as I stroked his cock. I kept my eyes on his face. The feel of him wasn't what I expected. 

He was... bigger than I thought he would be. He gripped my hips while I stroked him and he bit his lip.

"Shit, your hand is nice. God, why did I put this off?" I leaned down to kiss him and lifted my hips up to position myself. "Okay. Okay. Warning you, I might not last long." I didn't say anything. I just sunk down onto his cock and let him stretch me.

The feeling was nothing like I expected. Stan held onto my hips tight as I sunk down and his cock bumped against my cervix when I bottomed out. I couldn't help the groan that came out of me. 

"Don't... don't move, hon." Stan was breathing hard. "I'm not gonna last!" I adjusted to his size and when he opened his eyes, he smiled at me. "Can I roll us over?" I nodded and pulled off of him, laid down, and let him climb over me.

His strong hands rested on either side of my head and I blind reached down under the sheet to grip his cock again and guide him in. He nearly whimpered at the tightness.

"Goddamn! So... so warm and.... God, and tight!" I turned my head and bit his hand lightly. He leaned down and rested on his elbows. We were chest to chest with each other as he started to thrust his hips slowly. Halfway out, then all the way in. Every slow movement had me whimpering as Stan's eyes bored into mine.

"You like bein' fucked by this old man?" I bit my lip and nodded as he thrust harder, faster. "You want me to cum I'm this tight puss of yours?" 

I felt my own release building quickly. His thrusts were harder and the sound of the headboard beating into the wall and our grunts filled the room. He lifted a hand and twisted one of my nipples to make me cry out. "Answer me, doll. You want me to cum in that hole and make it mine?" 

"God, yes, Stan!" I screamed. He thrusted harder and I clenched around his cock as I screamed and came. He let out a groan and his hips stilled. Hot come spilled into me and Stan panted above me. He pressed his sweaty forehead to mine and chuckled.

"Dammit, doll. You really know how to take it outta me." He pulled his flaccid dick from inside me and pulled the quilt against him as he laid down. Then he pulled me into him and spooned me. His face was buried in my hair.

"Why couldn't I look?" I asked. "It felt really good." His grip on me tightened.

"I just... didn't want you to see somethin' you didn't like. I was nervous that you would change your mind if you saw what I was packin'." I giggled and snuggled into his arm.

"Never, Stud. I'm obsessed with you! Nothing you show me could drive me away at this point." It's not like I hadn't seen his legs before, he walks around in his boxers! I settled in and listened for his breathing to even out before I took a deep breath and slid out of his arms.

I needed to get cleaned up before the cum on my thighs crusted over!

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Chapter 8: The Halloween Special!

Halloween morning, we were buzzing around the Shack to make sure everything was perfect. The first tour would be at noon, so we were pressed for time to get ready. Stan was halfway into his costume when I came in to paint his face and neck. He smiled at me.

"Are you wearing my robe?" I grinned and nodded.

"Don't want you peeking. Stand still while I do this. You used that face wash I gave you, right? I don't want your baby skin breaking out under all this makeup. He rolled his eyes and dropped onto my vanity stool. I had gotten this vanity with my first paycheck. I was tired of finding my makeup shoved into the drawer in the bathroom.

I smeared the pale green paint onto his cheek, then his nose, then his forehead, and when it was all smooth, I did his neck and hands, then his wrists and arms up to the elbow just in case his sleeves rode up. I sprayed them with a setting spray and fanned him dry.

"Is this what you women do with your makeup? Spray it and dry it to make it stay put? It's smart." I shushed him while I grabbed the bolts out of the makeup kit and stuck them to him with eyelash glue. Then I painted on some realistic looking scars and had him look in the mirror. "Wow! All I'm missing is the black hair, and I look like the monster! Thanks, doll." He pulled me down to kiss my cheek. "So, do I get the honor of helping you into your makeup?" I shook my head.

"You have to go finish getting dressed in your own room, mister. This is special to me. I want to see your face when I walk out in my costume! And it better knock your socks off!" I pushed him from the room and untied the robe. Under it was the Frankenstein themed pantie set I got at the mall. I started with my hair. Silver streaks and a lot of teasing later, my bat's nest was ready. I didn't need to color my skin for it, just add some scarring and lipstick. Then came the skimpy dress to go with the outfit. It was made to look like a wedding dress that was ripped up in specific spots to expose some skin and make it look like I was a corpse. I looked in the mirror and smiled. I hope he likes it. 

At 11:45 am, I walked out of my room and down the stairs. Stan was waiting impatiently by the door. He was checking his watch over and over and peeking through the door. I cleared my throat and when he turned, he stopped dead.

Stan's eyes scanned over me in wonder. I smiled at him and walked closer.

"Bride of Frankenstein... I like it." He pulled me in by my hips and I giggled as he peppered my face in kisses. I pushed him gently and we walked out into the gift shop. Soos the Wolfman and Wendy the Vampire were waiting, and looked shocked at the two of us.

"Is that what you were hiding at the mall? Nice! Still a little gross, though. Can't imagine letting Stan that close to me." I stuck my tongue out at Wendy, who giggled and came over to take a selfie with all of us. Stan had his arm around me and I clung to the front of his shirt. Soos squatted to look like more of a wolf, and Wendy bared her plastic fangs in a wicked grin. We broke apart, but not before I leaned up to whisper in Stan's ear.

"If you do good today, there's more to this costume that's just for you to see." Considering he was still complaining about his joints hurting after our last little romp in the hay, I didn't think he would get excited. But he grinned at me and bent down to kiss me quickly before straightening his tie and waltzing to the door with the confidence of a young man in a frat.

"Seriously, Jess," Wendy sighed as she tapped away on her phone, "how do you let him kiss you? He's so old!" I giggled and boosted myself to sit on the counter. I could hear Stan giving a spiel about how scary this haunted shack was. 

"He just... He's just so sweet to me. I don't know. I don't think he's that bad. And he's great in bed." That last part slipped out and I slapped my hand over my mouth. Wendy gagged and pretended to faint.

"Did not want to know that! Ew! Now I'm going to be thinking about it! No!" I laughed and walked out to where the tour was taking place. I had to jump out and scare people near the end.

"... and, be sure to watch yourselves! We are entering my lair! Beware my bride, for she will attack any she finds more beautiful than her!" That was my cue. I pushed the door open so it creaked slowly and stepped out dramatically, casting my gaze around the room. Many young women were there, so I could do my part.

I raised an angry hand and pointed in the women's general direction, then screamed as I ran at them. Stan quickly jumped between them and me while the girls cowered and cried out.

"Bride, back! Back to your chambers! None are more fair than you. Back, I say!" I screamed as he manhandled me and slammed the door with a dramatic flourish. I banged on it and roared at the crowd until they moved on. That was fun!

After the next four tours, we shut it down for trick or treating. I had a bowl of candy ready by the front door, the porch light was on, and I was waiting patiently. Stan thought it was cute, but I was determined to hand out candy this year! I hadn't gotten to do it in a long time. Not since Brandon and I started living together.

After three hours of handing out candy, I turned off the porch light. I was halfway through with taking off my makeup when someone else knocked on the door. Stan was in the bathroom, so I went to get it.

Instead of seeing a little kid in a costume, I was face to face with a man I definitely didn't want to see.

Shit.

I backed up and tried to slam the door, but he pushed his way inside.

"What are you doing, living in this shack baby?" Brandon demanded. 

"How did you find me?" I asked. I was still backing up, towards the stairs. I knew where Stan kept the bat he used for defense. He pulled his phone out and showed me Wendy's InstaShot post with all of us, with me tagged as being at the Mystery Shack.

"Soon as I saw that, I got on the next flight to Oregon. Crazy how quick you can get to the person you love." I wrapped my fist around the bat and stood still. "You're coming home, baby." I shook my head.

"This is my home. I'm not leaving. Get out." He smirked at me and put his hands on either side of the door frame. "Please," I begged. He laughed.

"Still begging! Babe, I haven't seen you in months. I was worried sick! And I find you here in a house that smells like cigarettes and old man cologne! What, you shacking up with an old geezer as payment for a place to crash? God, you've always been such a whore." As soon as the words left his mouth, I pulled out the bat and swung with a scream. It connected with his arm when he threw it up to shield his head.

"Jess! You okay? I'm comin', doll!" Stan shouted from upstairs. I heard his running footsteps and I swung the bat again. This time, Brandon caught it and yanked it from my grasp.

"You are living with an old man! I knew it! C'mon. You're coming home." He grabbed my wrist and I grabbed onto the railing of the stairs.

"No! Leave me alone!" I shrieked. I kicked at him, but he held on tight no matter how many times I made contact with his side and knee. Stan was bounding down the stairs and I saw the glint of metal before I heard an impact. Brandon let me go and yelled before charging at me. I ducked his swing and Stand yanked me behind him. Brass knuckles were shining on his hands. One of them had fresh blood on it. Fuck, why is that hot?!?

"You heard the lady," Stan growled. "Now, get outta my house!" Brandon charged at Stan and swung with the bat, but Stan took the blow on his brass knuckles. "Get upstairs, sugar. Papa's gonna have to take care of this one."

"Listen, old man," Brandon spat. "My fight ain't with you. Just let me take her home, and I'll leave you alone. Keep my girl from me, and I'll fucking kill you." Stan laughed.

"I'd like to see you try! At this point, I think I'm immortal. Oh, and she isn't your girl. Last I checked, I'm the one she's been cuddled up with every night, and I'm the one fucking her!" I gripped Stan's sleeve and tugged him. "Not now, sugarpot."

"Stan stop it. I don't want you to get hurt!" He turned to me with a sad look in his eyes.

"But... But this jackass is trying to make you leave." I sniffed and stepped out from behind Stan.

"I don't want to go with you. But I don't want you to hurt Stan." Brandon lowered the bat and laughed.

"Okay. Okay, sure babe. You come back to Arizona with me, and I'll leave gramps here alone." I turned back to look at Stan and winked at him. He looked confused and sad, but in his eyes I saw that he got the message.

"Can I get a few minutes alone with him to say goodbye?" Brandon scoffed. "Please? If I do, I'll go without a fight." 

"Fine. You got ten minutes. I'll be on the porch." As soon as the door was shut, Stan grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"I ain't lettin' him take you. You're all I got," Stan whispered. I hugged him back and fought the tears in my eyes. "We can come up with a plan." I pulled out my phone and called Wendy.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did Stan have a heart attack?"

"Wendy, how quick can you get here with your dad and an ax? My ex is in town trying to drag me back to Arizona and I am not going." I heard her shout on the other end for her dad to get "the big one."

"Six minutes. Maybe five if I drive." I hung up and looked back up at Stan.

"What are you thinking?" I pulled him down for a quick kiss.

"Wendy and I made a pact that if Brandon comes to town, her dad scares the shit out of him." Stan grinned.

"That's my girl! So, what now? What do we do to stall for time?" I wrapped my arms around his waist and took a deep breath. 

"I guess... call the cops. He's trespassing, right?" He rolled his eyes.

"Those two dumbasses aren't going to show up until tomorrow morning!"

"They might if we say he assaulted an innocent young lady," I pointed out. He rubbed his chin before walking to the landline and dialing.

As soon as he hung up, Brandon stormed back in.

"Time's up. Get your shit. We're going home." I threw a punch at his eye as soon as he grabbed my arm, landing it hard and making him stumble back. "Dammit, Jess! We're going! Now!" Stan put his hands on my shoulders and held me firmly in place.

"The lady said she isn't going. Leave her alone and get out of my house!" Brandon let out a dark chuckle.

"Okay. That's enough. I'm not gonna play nice anymore, old timer." He raised the bat and Stan shoved me away before throwing his arms up to block the blow. He yelled as a sharp crack sounded at the contact. Stan pulled back a fist and swung at Brandon, landing a brass punch to the jaw.

I tried to wrestle the bat from him, kicking and punching at him to get him to let go, but Brandon's fist connected with my eye and sent me to my ass on the floor. I held my eye and fought the tears that welled. Stan screamed as he landed blow after blow on Brandon's face and chest until the younger man had backed out of the door and fallen into the dirt, words punctuating each blow.

"Don't. You. Ever. Touch. My. Girl." Stan stood imposingly in the doorway as Brandon tried to get back in, but the wild shrieking of a lumberjack echoed from the woods. The sound bounced around the trees and created a terrifying cacophony of screaming. Brandon looked around frantically, eyes landing on the burly man running out from the trees, an ax raised above his head and his eyes boring into Brandon.

Brandon tried to get inside, but Stan shoved him back into the dirt. Just as Dan made it to the porch, the lights and sirens of the local officer car filled the clearing.

"What in the sam hill is going on here?" Officer Blubs asked. 

"This jackass from outta town busted into my house and beat up on my woman," Stan growled out. He pulled me into his side to show my already bruising face. "Manly Dan here is my witness. Also Wendy." Wendy ran into the house and hugged me. She cupped my face and dragged me over to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen peas to put over the bruise.

The officers threw Brandon in the back of the cruiser, took statements, and left. Stan looked pissed. 

"Thanks for comin', Dan," Stan said. The two men shook hands and the red heads left. The door was shut and locked.

I was still halfway in my costume and Stan was still in his own suit. 

"I don't think that's the last we're gonna see of Mr. Dreamboat," he said. I pulled the frozen veggies from my eye and threw my arms around Stan. He held me tight. "Don't worry, doll. No one is takin' you from me any time soon."

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Chapter 9: Moving Up, Moving On

Stan never came to bed last night.

I got up in the morning and wrapped a throw blanket around my shoulders to go look for him. I found him on the porch, watching the sunrise with a cigar between his lips.

"What're you doing, stud?" I asked him. I dropped down next to him and draped the blanket over both of us. He held me tight.

"Just makin' sure that bastard didn't try to come back. I don't trust those two idiot cops." I snuggled into his side and shivered. He was still in his suit.

"It's okay, big man. He's not coming back. I think you and Dan scared the shit out of him enough." Stan grunted and finally looked down at me.

"How's your eye? Looks bad." I reached up to touch the swollen skin.

"Looks worse than it feels. It'll fade eventually. I'm more worried about you. Didn't he hurt you with that bat?" He shook his head.

"It takes a lot to put ol' Stan Pines outta commission." I pulled his hand into my lap and examined his scabbed knuckles. I ran a finger across them gently and I felt his hand tense under my touch.

"I thought brass knuckles were supposed to be more protective," I said. "This looks bad." I hummed.

"They are, unless you're hitting as hard as I do. That shitsack isn't coming near you again without pissing himself." 

I didn't like being a damsel in distress, but if I had to be, I'm glad Stan was my knight. If Brandon hadn't shown up last night, Stan and I would be snuggling in my bed right now, naked, and basking in the afterglow of some pretty amazing sex. But instead, we were on the porch, watching the sunrise and holding each other.

"Thank you for protecting me," I whispered. "It means a lot that you didn't want me to go." He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Why would I want you to go?" He gave me a sly grin. "Someone's gotta clean my house and drain my balls." I gasped and punched his arm.

"Rude!" He laughed and squeezed me closer to his side. "You're a filthy old man, Stan Pines." He kissed my cheek.

"You love me, though." Do I? I hadn't said it yet. We've been together for a month, living together for two. Being with Stan was fun, and it was therapeutic in a way. He was getting me to stop certain behaviors that Brandon taught me. If not for Stan, I couldn't have stood up for myself last night.

But does that equate to love? I love being around him. I love snuggling up with him on the couch like we were now. I love his jokes and his infectious smile. I love this Shack, I love his car... I even love his goofy fez.

I love the way he holds me and makes me feel special. I love that he doesn't treat me like a piece of meat. He takes my input on ways to improve the attractions and he appreciates me. He has his moments, saying some sexist things to me, but it's all jokes. I know that when push comes to shove, he wants to treat me better than I deserve. 

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I do love you." He stilled and looked back down at me. My cheeks were red. 

"You... um... wow, okay..." He rubbed the back of his neck. Uh oh. Did I just ruin it? "Uh... lemme take you to breakfast." He stood up quickly and ripped the blanket to the ground by accident.

My heart twisted in my chest. Dammit. I said it, and now he was running.

I sat as far away as I could on the El Diablo bench seat while he drove us to Greasy's. He was in khaki slacks and a disco shirt. He still insisted I wear his gold chain. I was wearing a green turtleneck and jeans. Nothing fancy. He kept glancing over at me with a worried look, but we remained silent.

We pulled into the diner and he walked around the car to let me out. He had me trained to wait for him to open my door. He offered his hand to help me out, which wasn't necessary, but I took it anyway. Always the gentleman.

He held my hand tight as we walked inside. We hadn't been this close in public yet. A couple of the regulars eyed us and whispered to one another. Stan had a huge grin on his face, and I was blushing like crazy.

We took a booth and Lazy Susan sidled up to us with a grin.

"And what can I get the happy couple today?" I stared down at my lap and Stan chuckled.

"Maybe just a couple coffees and we can split the Lumberjack Special. She's a little tired after the Halloween event yesterday. She was the star, after all!" Susan giggled.

"I know! She scared me good! And your matching costumes were so cute. Are you two doing something to Christmas too? Maybe Santa and Mrs. Clause? Ooh! Soos could be an elf!" I made a mental note of it, but stayed silent while those two talked.

Dan, who was sitting at the bar before, came up to us and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Thanks again for your help last night," Stan said. Dan nodded.

"Wendy likes this chick," he said gruffly. "Closest thing to a mother she's had in years. If you drive this one outta town, I'm holding you personally responsible for my daughter's heartbreak." Stan chuckled and looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"Then I guess I'll keep her." The bell above the door jingled and Stan glanced behind me before anger etched across his face. Dan puffed up even more. Stan stood from the booth with his fists clenched.

"Get the hell outta town, asshole," Stan snarled. I knew from the person's gait that it was Brandon.

"I'm just here to talk," he spat back. "Those idiots let me off with a fine." Stan stepped closer to me to block Brandon's path to me. "Can I talk to my fiancée, please?" My gut churned and I felt too hot. My turtleneck was choking me.

"We've been over this. She's not yours. Last I checked, she's her own damn person." I fought the tears welling in my eyes.

"Just let him talk," I said quietly. Stan turned to me with concern and hurt across his face. "Sit by me, Stan?" He into the booth next to me and Brandon took the seat across from us. Stan brought his arm around me and Dan stepped back to the bar, but stayed close enough just in case.

The air was thick with tension and I was sitting face to face with my nightmare.

"Why did you run away, baby? I didn't know where to look for you. I was terrified. How could you do that to me?" Playing the victim. Stan tried to speak, but I stopped him.

"Why did you treat me like property and hit me? Why did you keep me literally locked in our bedroom for days at a time? Why is it that the first thing you did when you saw me yesterday was try to attack us?" He glared at the two of us. Stan being here was giving me strength that I didn't know I had. "As far as I'm concerned, the wedding has been off since I left. I didn't want you to find me. I'm finally happy, and it's because I left you." He looked like he would cry.

"You know that I'm nothing without you, babygirl. Come back home with daddy. Please?" I shivered. I hated that he called himself that. 

"No. I'm not your babygirl. And I live here now. I live with Stan Pines and I'm staying with him." I folded my hands on the sticky table. "So you can accept it and move on and leave, or be an ass and get arrested for assault again. Either way, I'm staying here." His sadness changed to anger. His attention turned to Stan.

"What have you been filling her head with? She was supposed to be my wife by now, and you just had to let her shack up with you! What, did she put out to get you to agree? She's nothing but a whore, you know. She'll sleep with anyone if it gets her what she wants." Stan's grip on me tightened, as well as his grip on the edge of the table. "Oh, did she not tell you? Before we got together, she was a hooker. Are you paying her to fuck you?" 

The rings on Stan's fingers glinted in the light from the bulbs above us as he clenched his fist, but he didn't move otherwise.

"It isn't my business what she did before we met. We all have things in our past we aren't proud of. But bullying a woman just to feel more powerful? Come on, man. That's what weak men do. I don't care if she's just taking advantage of an lonely old man. She makes me happy, and I'm too old to want more out of a partner." Brandon didn't like that answer, either.

He was enraged that we were calm. "Seriously? You want to catch what she's probably got? Okay, suit yourself." Stan let out a dry laugh.

"As much trouble as I've gotten into, you should be more concerned about what I've given her!" Brandon turned his attention back to me.

"So that's it, then? After everything I've done for you and how much I've loved you, you're breaking it off for some old bastard who probably can't even make you come, just because you're mad at me?" I crossed my arms. 

"How many times do we have to go through this?" Stan kept his eyes on me with a smile on his face. He knew the truth, and that's what matters. "I'm not coming back with you, I'm not marrying you, and I'm going to file a restraining order against you. If you come back to the Mystery Shack, I'm calling the cops. Now leave me and my boyfriend alone." Stan puffed with pride. Was he that happy I was saying it in public? 

Brandon clenched his fists and brought one down on the table, making it rattle. The salt shaker fell over and rolled onto the bench next to me.

"Seriously? Fine. Okay. We're done. But when this guy dies on you, don't expect any sympathy from me." Brandon stormed out and slammed the door of the diner.

My heart was racing and tears streamed down my cheeks silently. Stan rubbed my shoulders and pressed kisses to my temple over and over again.

"You did so good, sweetie. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. You're amazing." All his praise was drowned out by the deep feeling of dread and sadness in the pit of my stomach. What if this isn't over? I gave Brandon years of my life. We'd been together since high school. And now, I have Stan but... does Stan even want me? Are Brandon's lies about me going to get into his head?

We ate our breakfast in silence, Stan paid, and we got back into his prized car. He pulled me flush against him so he could drive while holding me close. I rested on his shoulder and let my eyes slide shut, focusing on the feel of the road under us.

The familiar bumps into the Mystery Shack lot made me look out the window. Stan shut off the car, but we didn't move.

"All that stuff he said... don't worry about it," he assured me. "I don't blame you for anything you did when you were younger." More tears fell.

"It was all lies!" I sobbed into his chest. He held me tight. "He was trying to make you hate me!" The tears wouldn't stop falling. Stan pulled me into his lap and held me as I wept. "I just wanted to be happy and he had to come ruin it!" Stan rubbed and patted my back, rocking me side to side gently in the driver seat of his car.

When I finally stopped crying, he kept holding me.

"I grew up in New Jersey," he said. I didn't speak. "And I had a twin brother." That was news. 

He started going on with his life story. Stanley and Stanford Pines, the twins. Ford was the smart and talented one, Stan was the tough one who looked out for their family. They had a brother who was a few years older than them.

He ruined his twin brother's prospects for college by accident, and Ford never forgave him. Stan was put out of the house, worked odd jobs, lie, cheated, and became a decent con artist. Ten years after he was sent away, Ford contacted him just to tell him to get lost and hide a book for him. They fought. Ford was shoved through an interdimensional portal by accident. Stanley faked his own death and took Ford's place in this cabin. He worked through every night trying to bring his brother back. He had to make money to keep doing this research, so he started up the Mystery Shack. To this day, he doesn't have all three notebooks Ford wrote, and he can't finish the portal without them. It's been twenty-nine years.

"I've been doing this racket longer than you've been alive. I've done terrible, awful things. No one even knows about it and I can't talk about it with anyone. I didn't trust anyone enough until now. Stanford... I miss him. And I know he'll hate me forever, even if I do bring him back, but I have to try. Family is everything to me." He tugged my hair gently to make me look at him. "Well, that and you. You're practically my family now, right? Known ya for three months, and I'm in love with ya." His cheeks turned red. "I don't care if what that guy said was true or not. You're my girl, and I'm not letting you go any time soon, especially over something that creep says."

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Chapter 10: Walkin' In a Winter Wonderfuck Part 1

The first snow of the season came in late November, after Thanksgiving. Stan had officially closed the Shack for winter, but Soos and Wendy still came over to hang out or do idle tasks to prepare for the Spring tourist season.

I had never seen snow before. I stared out the window in wonder as the fat flakes fell. They melted as they hit the porch until it was soaked enough, then it started to stick.

Stan had bought me a winter coat and boots so I didn't die. The first day of the snow, I bundled up with Wendy and tried to run outside like a kid, but Stan grabbed me by the shoulders and made me stand in the doorway while he stuck a hat on me and shoved gloves onto my hands. I was too excited!

"Don't eat the first snow of the season, and don't be too disappointed if it's mostly ice right now," he warned. "Wait here while I get my coat too. I'm gonna keep an eye on you." I pouted at Stan, who tapped my nose before walking back to his room. 

Even after being together for two months, I still haven't gone in his room. I wanted to respect his space. I kind of took over the rest of the house, after all. My books and decorations littered the living room. Photos of the two of us were in frames on the walls. He had insisted on it so he could walk past it and see my smile every day. 

He came back in a black coat and gloves with some black boots on.

Something about Stan in all black with his hair free of his fez made me melt. Before he could pull a beanie over his head, I gripped the labels of his coat and pulled him in. He smirked and gripped my hips as he bent down to meet my lips.

Wendy gagged behind us and I giggled with my nose pressed to Stan's.

"Better get used to it, Courduroy," Stan chuckled. "This one's sticking around. Your pops made sure of it." He gave my ass a playful smack as Wendy and I ran out the door.

As soon as my foot made contact with the edge of the porch, my feet slipped out from under me and I bounced down the icy steps on my butt, landing in the dirty snow. Stan snorted out a laugh while he helped me up.

"You okay, doll? I forget, you've never done this before." I rolled my eyes and dusted myself off. Stan sat on the edge of the porch while I stood in the middle of the yard.

The snowflakes were more beautiful than I imagined! They fell into my palms and dusted over my face. The chilly air blew through me.

Wendy lobbed a snowball at my chest and it shattered against me. A snowball fight! I've never done this before!

Stan showed me how to make a good snowball and I threw it as hard as I could at Wendy, who dodged and laughed. I ran and made another one, and another until we had thrown most of the snow in the yard at one another. I made one more and hid it behind my back while I went up to Stan. He was sitting on the porch with a lit cigarette and a grin.

I chucked it and hit him square in the chest. He dramatically fell back onto the porch and groaned.

"I've been hit! Medic! I think I see the light! Pops, is that you? Oh, what a world!" He laid his arms out to his sides and lolled his tongue out of his mouth to play dead. I giggled and kissed his cheek. He grinned back and I helped him sit up. "You cold enough yet?" I nodded and the three of us went back inside where Soos had been making hot chocolate. Stan took my coat and gloves.

We snuggled on the couch while Soos and Wendy sat on the floor and played Monopoly. After several hours, Stan checked the time and looked out the window.

"You two better get home before the snow gets too bad. Weatherman Stan says a blizzard is coming through tomorrow morning, early. Don't want you to be stranded anywhere." We see Wendy and Soos out the door and Stan locks it behind them before stretching and turning back to me.

"So... what do you want to do tonight?" I asked. He grinned and wrapped his arms around ne.

"The heat's out," he mumbled into my neck. "And I can think of a thing or two to keep us warm." I giggled when he started to nibble behind my ear.

"Aw, I don't know... last time you said you could buck like a racehorse, you ended up throwing your back out." He growled playfully and squeezed my ass.

"Well then... maybe that just means I need to move more. Care to join me?" I turned around and draped my arms over his shoulders. He planted his hands back on my ass and held me tight.

"I would love to, Stud." I pulled him up the stairs and as soon as my bed was in his sights, he grabbed my sweater and yanked it off over my head. He's so impatient! I let him push me back onto the bed and helped him take my jeans off. 

He crawled up and pushed my thighs apart before pressing his nose against my sex. I lazily ran a hand through his gray hair while he inhaled.

"God, I'm addicted to this," he mumbled against my underwear. "How do you smell that good?" I took in a shuddering breath when he tugged my panties to the side and licked a stripe up through me. "Damn, it's better than whiskey." I lifted my hips for him to pull my panties off and he yanked me up so my knees were on his shoulders. My weight rested on his thighs and my shoulders were on the bed. He buried his face between my legs and I couldn't help but whimper when his tongue started to flick over my clit. He always knows just the right spot to make me squirm.

His tongue laved over my clit after each brutal suck from his lips. He prodded into my dripping hole to coax more arousal out of me before pulling away to bite my inner thighs and tease me.

I was a moaning mess soon. His tongue and teeth and lips worked me over until I was begging him to let me come.

"S-Stan, pleeeaaaase!" He chuckled darkly.

"Please what? Tell me what you want, sugar." I moaned as he resumed his assault.

"Please!" It's all I could think. I was so close, but he kept me right at the edge. He slowly lowered my hips back to the bed and slid two fingers into me.

A new moan left my throat as he curled his fat fingers inside me and sucked on my clit at the same time. I was bucking into him and he finally, finally shoved me over the edge and coaxed an orgasm from me. He yanked his hand away and clamped his lips firmly around my pussy as I spasmed.

"Oh, god damn, doll," he groaned. I could barely breathe. "You're a dirty girl, squirtin' all over my face." I opened my eyes to see him licking his lips and his fingers. My body was twitching from the pleasure. "I'm gonna have to clean you up, aren't I?" He bent back down and licked through me again. He lapped at my inner thighs that were coated in my own come. I whimpered and gripped his hair as he started to work over my clit again. I was too sensitive!

I tried to pull him off, but he reached up and gripped my wrists. He pulled back from my pussy and glared up at me.

"Bad, girl. Don't you stop me from eating this." 

"Staaaaan! Please! Fuck me already!" I moaned out. He circled my clit with his tongue faster now, occasionally flicking over it or pausing to suck on it. He slid two fingers into me again and pulled his mouth away from me to replace his tongue with his thumb. He abraded my clit while his fingers thrust in and out of me. I threw my head back in a cry at the feeling and the noises.

"Do you hear that, doll? How sloppy your pussy is for me? God, you're hot. I can't wait to shove my cock so far into you." My pussy clenched around his fingers and I cried out. My entire body spasmed as I shook and screamed through my orgasm. 

Stan eased his fingers out of me. I blindly reached for his face and he nuzzled against my neck. His lips and jaw were wet with my slick. I groaned as his stubble scratched at me. My entire body was one big nerve ending. I couldn't move. I couldn't think of anything but Stan Pines.

Stan idly brushed his thumbs over my nipples to keep my body twitching. 

"Think you can take me, hon?" I opened my eyes and licked my lips. "What're you thinkin'?" I gathered my strength and sat up.

"Pants off. Now." My voice was shaky but I wanted him so bad. I needed him. And I wanted to suck him off before he fucked me. I slid to the floor and he gave a nervous laugh.

"Sweets, we've been over this. You're not gonna like what you see down there." I tugged at the waistband of his slacks. 

"Now." I felt his body freeze and his face was more red than before.

"You're sure?" I tugged at his pants again, and this time he stood up and undid his belt. I licked my lips as I watched his face. He was only ever nervous about me actually seeing what's between his legs. He has no problem with me feeling it, though. I pulled his pants and boxers down and blinked when his erection was let out. What did he think it looked like? It was normal. Better than I expected at his age, actually. I smiled up at him and gave no warning before I leaned forward and licked up the underside of him. I licked from base to tip, then sank my mouth around the length of him. His knees buckled and he dropped to sit on the bed. His cock hit the back of my throat and I gagged, but powered through it as I bobbed my head. I kept eye contact with Stan the entire time. I hollowed my cheeks and laved my tongue along the underside of his shaft. His hands gripped my hair and I listened to him whimper. That just spurred me on and I moved faster. I felt him twitching in my mouth and I quickly pulled off of him. 

He let out a shuddering breath and gently ran his fingers through my hair.

"Damn. I was so close." I kissed his inner thighs and hummed. "You just gonna leave me hanging?" He sounded disappointed. Did he really think I would do that?

I pushed him to lay back and climbed into his lap, positioned him, and sunk down quickly. I whined at the intrusion and he hissed and grabbed my thighs. He was flat on his back and breathing heavily. 

"Oh, doll, I won't last long like this," he warned. He always said that, and was always wrong. For an old man, he had some stamina.

I rested my palms on his chest and started to rock back and forth. His cock sturred my insides and I let me head fall forward as a whimper left me. Stan's firm grip helped me rock faster. I was close to coming undone when he stopped me. He gave me a sly grin before pushing me off.

"On the bed, all fours. Now." His voice was commanding and rough, and I absolutely loved it.

His palm came down on my ass as I complied and he used the other hand to press into the middle of my back. I dropped to my elbows. I felt his cock nudge between my pussy lips as if Stan was searching, then he quickly thrust inside in one quick snap of his hips. 

It was too tight! I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. Every small movement he made sent shockwaves through me. Stan slowly pulled himself halfway out, then thrust back in just as slow. Slow and hard and perfect. I gripped the sheets and screamed into the pillow as he hit deep inside. I felt like Stan would rip me apart.

How does an older man like that have the stamina? I felt him adjust and he started to pound into me faster. His balls slapped against me, the sound of his hips hitting my ass filled the room. His grip on my hips felt like it would bruise but I didn't care. If I never walk again, I'll still be happy.

The pressure in my gut was building fast and I leaned back up on my hands to throw my head back. Stan took the opportunity and wrapped my hair around his hand to use it as a grip, and he went even harder until I shook beneath him and screamed out his name as I came around his cock. He twitched and swelled inside me and a warmth spread through my insides as he filled me with his cum. His hips kept stuttering and thrusting into me like he couldn't control himself until his cock fell out of me and he let me fall to the mattress. He laid next to me and kept his arms around me to hold me against his chest.

He combed his fingers through my hair and kissed behind my ear. His touch that was just painful had changed to soft and gentle. 

"So perfect," he muttered. "What'd an old bastard like me do to deserve you?"

I rolled over in his arms and snuggled into his sweaty chest. We were both still panting. His rounded stomach pressed into me and I smiled at the contact. Every imperfection of mine was made complete with his own imperfections. We fit together like puzzle pieces, somehow. And I was grateful to have him in my life.

"I love you, Stan," I mumbled against his chest hair. He rubbed my back and kisses the top of my head.

"Yeah, I'm a catch," he replied. I smacked his arm and he laughed. I felt the vibration in his chest and closed my eyes. 

This is what happiness feels like.

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Chapter 11: Walkin' In a Winter Wonderfuck Part 2

The "blizzard" Stan had warned Wendy and Soos about never showed. I think it was all a ploy to get me alone. The morning after our fun, he couldn't move. 

"Why do my joints have to hurt so much?" He could barely sit up in bed. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled one of his shirts off the floor so I could go make us breakfast and get him some tylenol.

"Pancakes and bacon with a side of painkillers. The breakfast of racehorses," I giggled. He rolled his eyes, but thanked me. We ate breakfast in bed together and he eventually got up to do the dishes, complaining and groaning the whole way.

I hopped in the shower to wash the dried come from between my thighs. It was becoming a familiar activity with Stan. He was so... sexual. I didn't expect that out of this relationship. I was content with the idea that we would be together emotionally rather than physically. But I can't say I'm disappointed in how it turned out. We're teaching each other so much. He's learning to be confident in his body and to be a kid again, and I'm learning to let myself feel what I want to feel. If I want to go play in the snow like a kid, Stan plays with me. If I want to bawl my eyes out, he holds me and let's me take all the time I need. 

He's hilarious, he's sweet, and he's just... perfect. Better than I ever imagined I would deserve.

I dried off and stepped out in my towel. Stan was sitting on the couch with a blanket in his lap, some old show from the 70's playing. I smiled to myself and waltzed in with my towel on. His eyes widened.

"Uh... What're you doin', hon?" I didn't say anything. I just dropped my towel and stepped over it before sliding under the blanket with Stan.

"Watching M*A*S*H with you, what else?" His arm came around me on instinct but his hand hovered over me, like he was scared to touch me. I ran my hand up and down his thigh and smiled at the tightness in his boxers.

"You're gonna kill me, you know that? Give me a heart attack or something." I laid my head on his shoulder and hummed. 

"You'll die happy, though. Didn't you tell me the other day that you wanted to drown in my pussy?" His face turned bright red and he looked away. "Aw, don't get shy now!" I teased him. "Best way to make your aching joints better is to work them out." He turned back to face me and leaned in for a kiss.

"One round, that's it," he said. "Then you put your clothes on." I nodded and he quickly had me pinned to the couch with his fingers slipping inside me.

It was more than one round. I don't know what it is, but we just can't keep our hands off each other! When we finally finished with one another, we showered together for the first time. I washed his back and as I ran the washcloth over his shoulder, I noticed the scar on his back.

"I've been meaning to ask, how did you get this weird scar? It looks.... sciencey." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"Remember when I told you about Stanford? Uh... when we fought before he.... left, he uh... accidentally shoved me against part of some machinery. It was hot and it kinda branded me. It was decades ago, so it doesn't really bug me. Why do you ask? Does it bug you?" I rinsed the soap off of his shoulder and kissed the burn scar before he turned back to me.

"No. I was just curious. I love learning things about you." He was blushing more than I did when we first got together!

The next snowstorm that hit was at Christmas. On Christmas Eve, I finished wrapping my gift to Stan and slid it under the tree next to a box that was wrapped with my name on it. It wasn't as neatly wrapped as mine was, but I knew Stan must have put in at least a little effort. I smiled at the lopsided bow. 

"Get your coat, sugar!" He called from the front door of the shack. "I got a date planned!" I ran to get dressed and met him at the front door. He helped me into my coat and tied a scarf around my neck before kissing my nose. "I've got a surprise for ya." 

He let me into his car, which was idling quietly outside, and pulled away from the shack. He had shoveled the snow out from our lawn.

The roads were salted so we didn't slide all over the place. He eventually pulled off onto a familiar turn.

"Are we going to your secret pond?" He hummed and rubbed my thigh. "C'mon! Tell me!" She chuckled again and shook his head.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you! Now shut your trap and enjoy the veiw." 

What view? The beautiful, snow covered forest we drove through, or the handsome devil driving me into it? Either way, it was worth looking at. 

We rumbled into the grass near the pond and Stan let me out. The pond was frozen over! He popped the trunk and pulled out two sets of ice skates. 

"I took your size from your boots we got for ya. Hope you like skating." I grinned. I'd never done this before either! He helped me put them on and made sure they were laced tight for me. "Don't expect too much outta me, now. I'm old and I don't move like I used to." I kissed his cheek before he pulled me up. On our skates, he helped me walk to the edge of the pond and he gripped the dock while he went out first.

"Yeah, she should hold." It didn't even crack under his weight. He held his hands out for me and I grabbed them as I stepped onto the ice.

"Don't pick your feet up. You're just shofting your weight. If you try to walk, you'll fall on your ass." He was coaching me in something young people do? Ironic.

I kept my eyes on my feet while he pulled me backwards across the ice. He let go of one hand so we could skate the same direction, and I finally got brave enough to look up at him. He was beaming ear to ear.

"You're good at this," I said. "Where did you learn?" He helped me turn as we neared the edge of the pond.

"Ford and I used to skate as kids. One of those things that's like ridin' a bike. I haven't done it since we were eighteen." He looked across the ice wistfully, reminiscing on life with his twin. I squeezed his hand.

"Well, you're a great teacher." We made another lap around the edge of the pond before he let go of my other hand.

I was a bit wobbly, but I managed to go another lap by myself without falling!

A voice cutting through the cold air surprised me and my feet came out from under me.

"Mr. Pines!" Soos shouted. Stan helped me to my feet, and we looked to see Soos and Wendy getting out of his pickup with ice skates in hand. "I didn't know you could skate, dude!" Stan rolled his eyes.

"So much for my secret spot. How did you knuckles heads find this place?" Wendy giggled and she got onto the ice and grabbed my hands.

"I come here with my brothers every winter. Seriously, Stan, you keep surprising me! Bagging a young chick and a romantic? How did you stay single for so long?" 

Stan huffed. Soos toddled onto the ice like a newborn. Stan sat on the dock with his arms crossed whole Wendy and Soos skated with me in a few laps. Soos held onto one hand, and Wendy held the other. 

At the final curve, Soos' foot went the wrong way and he did the splits, Wendy let go and got away so she wasn't dragged down, and I fell and slid to the point I ended up pinned under Soos. I gave a nervous laugh and pushed, but he wasn't moving to get up. I pushed at him, but he still didn't move. 

"Soos... I can't breathe!" I heard Stan shout across the ice and soon Soos was being pulled off of me by Wendy and Stan. He helped me up and touched my head and shoulders to make sure I was okay.

"I'm fine, stud. Really. It was just an accident. Stan grumbled about Soos touching me. "Aw, are you jealous?" Stan glared down at me. "You know I love you," I giggled. I tugged his arms until they uncrossed and he held me. "Besides, he's too young for me. I prefer someone in the fifty to sixty year old range. And he has to wear a fez to work and look really good in a suit and tie." Stan cracked a smile and kissed my red nose.

Wendy and Soos stood awkwardly.

"Uh.... you guys are cute, I guess," Wendy said. "Love is still gross, though. All that..." she gestured to the two of us, "lovey dovey cute stuff, it's disgusting." Stan laughed and held me tighter.

"Gross? I can show you gross, sister!" Stan bent at his knees, wrapped his arns around my thighs, and lifted me in the air. I squealed and kicked my legs while he smiled up at me. I gripped his shoulders and bent down to kiss him. I made it loud on purpose.

"Eeeewww!" Wendy laughed. "But Stan, I didn't know you were that strong! Didn't you just have to get my help moving a display like... a month ago?" He set me down and made sure I was stable before we skated on again.

"I was just bein' lazy! See you kids later!" He got us to the dock and helped me into the snow before we trudged back to the Diablo. He started her uo and got the heater going before coming to the other side to help me get my skates off.

"Sorry our date got cut short, doll," he said. I kissed his cheek.

"I think it was perfect. Except for the part where Soos pinned me by accident. But other than that, it was amazing! I've never been ice skating before! It's kinda like roller blades, but I've never been good at that either." He closed my door and tossed our skates back into the trunk.

The drive back to the shack was quiet, but it was the good kind. I was cuddled up to him on the bench seat. I had abandoned my scarf and hat, and Stan took the opportunity to play with my hair. 

We pulled into his usual spot at the Shack, but he didn't shut the car off. He turned to look at me, and I blinked back at him. No words were spoken between us. They didn't need to be. He undid his seat belt and cupped my cheeks before leaning into a heated kiss. I clutched his coat and tugged him closer.

Stan's tongue dipped into my mouth and I let him explore. His tongue circled my own, I stroked his in reply. I unzipped his coat and pushed it from his shoulders before cupping his strong jaw in my hands. I pulled back and he searched my face. I smiled.

He smiled back.

He pushed my coat from my shoulders and I reached down to unzip his pants. He pulled the lever on the seat so it leaved back to give us more room. I adjusted myself and leaned down as I pulled his cock out over his boxers. His hand cupped the back of my head and gently urged me onward. I normally wouldn't like being pushed into a blow job, but with Stan, it didn't feel like a demand. It felt right.

I bobbed my head as the car was filled with the sloppy sounds of Stan's whimpering, and the classic rock that played over the radio. Spit dribbled down my chin.

I pulled off of him and he tugged me up to meet his lips. He bit into my neck while he worked the button of my pants and pushed them down my thighs. He quirked a brow at me and pushed until my back was against the passenger door. Music was still playing through the car speaker when Stan started stroked his cock and hovering over me. Stan pulled my pants the rest of the way off and laid them over the back of the seat before turning back to me and dragging my thighs over his hips.

He had one hand pressed against the foggy window and he looked into my eyes as he moved my panties aside and sank into me. My eyes widened at the feeling while he hung his head and breathed heavily through each thrust. 

I had my arms looped around his neck and he pressed his forehead to mine while his shallow thrusts jostled the car. Every breath was hot and the air around us was thick with the scent of sex.

I bit my lip and stopped a cry as it built in my throat. Stan started moving faster and deeper, chasing his release.

He hit just right inside me and I started to clench and come around his cock just as he threw his own head back and shouted as he buried himself to the hilt. I could feel him coming and it made the wave of my own orgasm feel that much sweeter!

He was panting when he pulled out of me and he slumped into the seat next to me. I grabbed my pants and started to put them on, but he stopped me and pulled me to straddle his lap while I faced him. He buried his nose in my neck and rocked slowly while he pressed kisses and bites against my neck. I would have so many hickeys by the time we were done.

When we both calmed down, he zipped himself back into his pants and helped me into my own, and my boots.

He shut the car off and kissed me one last time before getting out to come open my door.

I smiled to myself while I was alone and held my cheeks. Stan really, truly likes me! 

He was gone longer than usual. I cracked my door open to see if he was okay, and saw him standing against the side of the car while an older woman appeared to be scolding him with a finger pointed in his face.

Not just any older woman.

My fucking mother.

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

Chapter 12: The Pines Family Hanukkah

My mother was scolding him.

"Do you have any idea what that can do to a child?" Stan's attention was drawn when I fully opened the car door and stepped out. My mother's rant died in her throat and she looked pale. "No! You were... with...?" She looked like she would faint. "I was hoping Brandon was lying!" She threw her arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder. I patted her back awkwardly.

"Lady, not to be rude, but who the hell are you?" My mother straightened and cupped my cheeks before taking inventory of me.

"Stan, this is my mother, Barbara Oak. Mom, this is my... boyfriend." She whirled back to him and glared.

"Well, your boyfriend should be old enough to know better! What were you two thinking, fornicating in that car! Anyone could have waltzed up and seen it! I should know! I did see!" She carried on about public indecency and my innocence, which was gone years ago. It started to snow lightly, so I offered to move the conversation into the house. She dug in her trunk and pulled out a small suitcase.

"Mom, don't take this the wrong way, but how did you find me? I kind of disappeared." She sat in a kitchen chair while Stan dropped into his spot on the couch. I passed around mugs of hot chocolate. She hummed as she sipped it.

"Oh, that good for nothing ex fiancé of yours came banging on my door to tell me all about how you were here sleeping with half the town and living with a man old enough to be your father." I nearly tripped as I made my way to the couch, but Stan steadied me.

"... you didn't believe him, did you?" I asked. She had a tendency to believe anything. She snorted a laugh.

"I know you better than that! My baby would never whore herself out. And I was obviously worried when you ran away without any warning and dropped off the face of the earth, but I trust your judgement. Honestly, after what that bastard put you through for years, I'm shocked you didn't leave sooner. I knew you would reach out when you were ready. No news is good news, after all." She was surprisingly calm. "Of course," she continued, "when he told me you were here, I wanted to see you but I knew if I came out immediately, it would scare you. I figured Christmas was the best time. I wasn't expecting him to be right when he said you were living with an older man, though." She eyed Stan like he was a demon. 

"Stan is really nice," I said quickly. "And he runs his own business." She hummed again.

"I suppose I can't be too angry. Brandon said Stan beat the tar out of him when he tried to bring you home. I've been wanting to do that to him for years. So, thank you, Stan. But if I ever catch you with your pants down around my daughter again, we are going to have more than just words." He nodded and looked into his mug. I elbowed him gently.

"Hey, stud, what happened to me not opening my own car door?" He cracked a smile.

"I oughtta make you every once in a while. You're too spoiled." He pinched my cheek.

"If I'm spoiled, it's your fault," I shot back. He put his arm over the back of the sofa. "So, how long are you staying, mom?" She shrugged.

"I'll probably leave the day after tomorrow. I want you to have your space, you know? You're a grown woman, and I respect your decision to be here. I know you don't do anything without thinking it through first." I appreciated her faith in me, no matter how misguided. I definitely didn't think about it before moving in here.

"Oh, speaking of tomorrow... my uh... my family is coming over for the day to do sort of a family Hanukkah," Stan said nervously. "And they don't... they don't know about you. I haven't told them." I waited for it to hurt my feelings, but it didn't. 

"So, laying low while they're here?" He gave a sad nod. "Okay. Whatever makes you more comfortable. It's your nephew and his kids, right? The kids that made you that sweater?" He grinned.

"You remembered! I didn't think you were payin' attention!" 

We chatted with my mom for a while until the clock on the wall struck ten pm. I showed her to my bedroom and resigned myself to sleeping on the sofa while she was here.

"Don't worry, peanut," she said as I helped her settle. "I won't say anything to his family. Or your father. Lord knows he would come here with a shotgun if he thought someone his age was sleeping with his grown daughter."

When I went back to the living room, Stan was holding a present in his lap. It had my name on it.

"What's this?" He grinned and patted the seat beside him.

"Kind of an early present, I guess. I wanted to give you this before my family got here. It's silly, but I want to have somethin' just for us before kids are running around here." My heart clenched and I could have cried. He was so sweet!

I pulled his present the closet and we swapped. Stan opened his first.

Inside the long, narrow box was a carved cane with an 8-Ball as the handle. It was one of those magic 8-Ball toys, but I replaced the dice with one that had cute lovey stuff on it. Every time he shook it, he could look and see something cheesy on it. 

Dan and Wendy had helped me carve the cane and paint it, and Soos helped me attach the ball to the top so it wouldn't come off.

Stan turned it over in his hands with a huge smile on his face. He looked up at me and pulled me in for a kiss.

"I love it, doll. I was lookin' for something to spice up the Mr. Mystery look! This is perfect. Thank you." He gestured for me to open mine. 

A familiar wooden sign was inside the paper. The sign that previously hung on Stan's bedroom door to announce that it was, in fact, Stan's room. I was a little confused.

"I uh... it's kind of symbolic. Follow me." He led me up the stairs, cane clutched proudly in his hand, and stopped in front of his door. "I wanted to let you move into here. If you want to. I uh... I can't sleep without you lately and it's not fair that I always take up your bed. So, I guess... instead of 'Stan's Room' it can be... our room." 

He opened the forbidden door and revealed a room that was not at all what I expected. It was clean, the sheets were washed and neatly folded onto the bed, there was a rug on the floor, and the open closet door revealed that half of the rack was open for me to hang my clothes. There was a large dresser across from the bed. A floor-length mirror stood against another wall and a neat rack sat by the door with shoes placed on it carefully. His bathrobe hung on one of two hooks mounted to the back of the door. In another corner was a rack of hand weights ranging from three pounds to fifty. I didn't even know you could get them that heavy! No wonder Stan's strong.

He hung the sign back on his door and stood nervously. He clasped his hands and held them over his belly with his shoulders to his ears.

"Stan... I don't know what to say!" Everything looked freshly moved. He had purposefully made room in his only personal, private space... for me. I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek before running and jumping onto the bed. I landed in the middle of the queen mattress and giggled. The comforter still had a tag on it, as if he bought it recently, and the pillows felt fresh out of the bag. He chuckled as he closed the door and locked it.

He pulled his sweater off and stretched before shucking his pants to the floor and tossing them into the laundry hamper. He climbed into the bed and waited for me to strip and climb under the blanket with him. We snuggled up against the cold chill of the cabin, and I took in the smell of his lingering cologne from this morning.

In the morning, I pulled on a sweater that was ugly on purpose while Stan put on a light blue one with a fez embroidered on it. 

"Another Mabel sweater?" I asked him. He nodded proudly. "I can't wait to meet the little artist!" 

"What are we going to tell them about... us?" I asked. 

"Uh... new to town, working for me in exchange for a place to stay. Coworker/roommate. That's the original truth." I shrugged. Sounds good to me. Before we left the room, he smirked and held mistletoe above his head. 

"One more for the road, toots?" I leaned up on my toes and pressed a light kiss to his nose. 

"You'll get more than a kiss when this is all over. How about we save it for then?" He nodded and when we walked out, he pinned the mistletoe above our bedroom door. 

My mother was in the kitchen cooking.

"How many of your family will be here, Stan? I want to make sure I cook enough. Oh! What do you normally eat at Hanukkah? I don't want to make anything you can't have." 

"Well, there's Alex, his wife Dana, and the kids, Mabel and Dipper." Dipper? Must be a nickname. "Four, but the kids are twelve and will either eat nothing or everything in the house." He pulled a kosher cookbook from the shelf and handed it to my mom. "We ain't like... kosher but you can try if you want. Like, we eat pork and stuff. You won't offend any of us."

A car horn honked outside and headlights streamed through the window. 

Stan rushed to the front door and threw it open, letting in a flurry of snowflakes.

Two adorable kids stood on the porch with matching dreidel sweaters, and their parents stood behind them.

"Happy Hanukkah Grunkle Stan!" the two exclaimed. The little girl threw her arms around him as he stooped to their height. He clapped the boy on the back and he rubbed the back of his neck. He thinks he's too big for hugs.

"Oh, I missed you kids! How're things, Alex? How's your ma?" The man, Alex, shrugged.

"We're going to see her tomorrow. She's kind of out of it, ya know? Since dad died..." He trailed off as he laid eyes on me. "Who's this, Stan?" Dana patted her son on the head before walking into the house, bumping past me. Okay then.

"This is Jess," Stan said. Mabel looked me up and down and Dipped glanced at me before blushing and looking at the ground. "Come in out of the cold! We can do introductions inside." 

I passed around hot chocolate and my mother met the kids.

"Oh, you must be little Mabel! Your uncle has told me so much about you." Mabel gave my mother a weird look.

"Grunkle Stan, is this lady your new girlfriend?" I heard Stan drop a cup and cough.

"God, no!" He exclaimed. His face was bright red! "That's Jess' mother, Barb. Just met her yesterday. Pines family, this is Jess. She lives here and works for me. Jess, this is the Pines family." I waved and Dana gave me a disapproving look.

"So you have a younger woman living with you now? Any other new developments? A girlfriend we don't know about?" Alex turned to his wife with a glare.

"Dana, not the place." She hummed and went into the kitchen to help my mother. I recognize a pending divorce when I see one, so I got the attention of the kids and we went to raid the board game closet under the stairs.

We opted for Chutes and Ladder, and quickly took over the living room floor with our game. Stan and Alex sat on the sofa and I sat with my back to the men. Dipper and Mabel sat across from me.

I could hear them muttering behind me.

"I just don't know, Stanford. I've done everything I can to make her happy, and she still won't stay, not even for the kids." They were whispering. "How do you deal with the loneliness?" 

"Well..." Stan hedged. "I threw myself into my work. But I don't have kids. You do. All you can do is be there for Mabel and Dippy. Make sure they know it isn't their fault." I leaned back with a small smile, seeking some contact from Stan. I bumped his legs and he shifted so my back was between them.

"Sorry," I muttered. This was going to be harder than I thought. I didn't want the kids to catch on, and I definitely didn't want their parents to know. By the look of Dana, she's ready to scratch my eyes out just for being here. 

Stan ruffled my hair and I grinned up at him.

"Havin' fun? Looks like they're kicking your butt." I shrugged.

"I'm just along for the ride. These two are a hoot!"

Mom and Dana came back in and I moved away from Stan to continue our game.

"You kids wanna open your presents?" Stan asked. Mabel and Dipper jumped up and smiled. "Okay! Grab 'em from under the tree."

Mabel and Dipper tossed presents to their family members and begged Stan to open his first.

Inside the poorly wrapped paper was a homemade sweater with a fish on it.

"Dipper picked the design!" Mabel said proudly. Stan grinned at it and went to go put it on.

"I love it, pumpkin. Thank you both!" Stan had given Dipper a notebook and flashlight, and he gave Mabel a new set of knitting needles and a book of knitting patterns so she could make dolls as well. Both the kids hugged their Great Uncle and thanked him.

Dana and Alex actually looked happy. Maybe it made them feel better knowing Stan loved their kids as much as they did.

"No presents for Jess?" Mabel asked with a pout. "She deserves something too, for keeping you company!" Stan laughed and we looked at each other.

"We did our presents before you kids got here," I said. "Like you guys did with your parents at home!" She looked satisfied with that.

While the boys all started talking about fishing and Dana started chatting with my mother about how she got over her divorce, Mabel pulled me up the stairs and into the attic.

I hadn't been in the attic yet. I didn't think there was much up here. We found two beds, two dressers, and posters on the slanted walls.

"I had no idea this was up here," I said. She gave me a shiny smile.

"It's there Dipper and I sleep when we're here! But that's not important! Do you like Grunkle Stan?" My face paled. "Oh, c'mon! I saw how he looks at you! That's more than a roommate, sister!"

I rubbed the back of my neck while I was stared down by this twelve year old. "Your silence means yes!" She shouted. "Aaahh! That's so gross! He's so hairy and rude!" I gave a nervous laugh.

"He isn't so bad... He's rude but he's nice to me." Mabel was grinning so wide I thought her braces would pop off.

"So is it official? Are you dating my Grunkle?" My cheeks warmed. "You are! Oh my gosh!" I grabbed her shoulders to stop her from jumping around.

"Mabel! You can't tell anyone. It's a secret." She gasped.

"Star-crossed lovers? That's so romantic! Gaaah! Can I tell my stuffed animals?" 

"Yes, you can tell them. But not Dipper and not your parents. I feel like your mom doesn't like me, anyway." Mabel made a zipping motion across her mouth. "Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it."

We rejoined the family and Dana gave me a dirty look. What the fuck did I even do? 

"So, Jess, is it?" Uh oh. My heart twisted. "Are you living here for free and taking advantage of Stanford's kindness?" If looks could kill, her gaze would have leveled me.

"No, I work for him," I said slowly. "He offered me a place to stay since it impossible to find a house around here." She scoffed.

"Oh, and those photos on the wall, that's you two being roommates?" She pointed to the collage frame Stan had put together. The two of us in the Shack giving tours, all of us on Halloween, a picture of him I took on his rowboat, and a picture I took kissing his cheek. 

"Yes," I said. "We just get along really well. I'd rather get along with my roommate instead of live silently with someone. Wouldn't you?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"What is that supposed to mean?" What? Stan stepped in and pushed me back by the shoulder.

"Hold on, ladies. Jess didn't mean anything by it. Dana, how about we talk outside. Just you and me." She uncrossed her arms and marched out with Stan giving me an apologetic look over his shoulder.

I don't know what was said. I don't think I want to. I heard a slap land, I heard Dana sobbing, and I heard some stomping footsteps as she came back in. 

Stan came back a moment later with a red spot on his cheek and a smile.

"That's solved," he whispered to me. I was nervous for the rest of the day. 

After dinner, after the rest of the Pines family loaded into their car and left, Stan and I dropped onto the couch and he put an arm around me.

My mother took her spot in the kitchen chair.

"That Dana woman has got some serious issues," she said. "All she would talk about was how much she couldn't wait for the summer so she could divorce her husband while the kids are here." I looked over at Stan.

"You never said the kids would come for the summer." I wasn't upset or anything. I was excited!

"I was meaning to, I was just gonna wait until we got closer to May. They stay here during the summers." I was looking forward to the prospect of seeing them again. Dipper and Mabel were so fun!

Mom said good night shortly after and Stan and I remained snuggled on the couch. I pulled my feet up and tucked them between the cushion and the arm of the couch while he dragged a blanket over the two of us.

"I love my family more than anything," he said, "but I like the quiet once they're gone. Especially if you're there with me."

He turned on a movie and I giggled at it.

"Beetlejuice? Really? It's December." He chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"Don't knock the classics. You'll probably pass out before the Maitlands die, anyway."

Stan was probably right. His family is wonderful, but people are still exhausting.

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Chapter 13: Happy New Year Baby!

On New Year's Eve, I woke up to a pleasant surprise. Stan was up before me, making breakfast. Apparently, my mother leaving was cause for celebration. 

I padded down the stairs with his robe and slippers on and watched from the doorway while he hummed and made pancakes. His hair was ruffled from sleep. He seemed to be standing up straighter than usual.

Stan was happy. And that made my heart melt.

When he turned around to set two plates on the table, he grinned at me.

"Well, good morning, toots. Save some of that sexy for the rest of us!" I was fully aware that my hair was a rat's nest and I hadn't washed my face in two days, but it was still sweet.

"You're lucky you're a good liar, Stan. Otherwise I wouldn't have believed you just now." I kissed his cheek. "So, what's the plan today?" He set the plates down and pulled me in by my hips to kiss me deeply. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him back.

"I was thinkin' we could... make up for the time we lost? With your ma and my family bein' here?" I liked the sound of that.

His lips trailed down my neck and he pushed his robe from my shoulders before stepping back to look at me. He gave a sly grin at the sight of my matching pantie set from Halloween.

"Aw, you read my mind, sugar!" His strong hands found my hips again and he pressed me against the kitchen counter before hoisting me up to sit on it. I draped my arms over his shoulders and kissed him softly.

Mornings like this, when the ground outside was covered in snow and Stan was giving me all his attention made me glad I stayed here. He convinced me so easily when we met, but I don't regret the jump decision I made.

I stopped him from kissing my neck and he pulled back with a confused look.

"Doll, if you don't want to, we won't," he said. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him to hold him close.

His strong arms came around me and I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep him as close as I could while quiet tears fell onto his shoulder. "Baby, you're shaking. Are you okay? What's wrong?" He rubbed my back and patted me to try and comfort me, despite not needing it.

"Nothing," I breathed. I inhaled his scent and buried my face in his neck again. "I'm just really glad I met you." I felt his chest vibrate when he hummed. "You're so sweet and you care about me and and I just love you so, so much more than I thought I would ever love someone."

Stan pressed a kiss to the top of my head and rested his cheek against the spot.

"You know I ain't good at... talkin' about this stuff, sugar." I nodded and kissed his throat. "You're special to me. Always will be. You... You're part of my family now." Another tear rolled down my cheek and I smiled. I knew he loved me just from his actions. He didn't have to say it.

We ate our breakfast and spent the day tidying up the house to get ready for the New Year. 2012, here we come. I had some party hats and blowers so we could have a little party of our own, and I had been hiding a bottle of champagne in the fridge for a week.

By nightfall, we were cuddled up on the couch, sharing light touches and the occasional kiss while an old horror movie played on the TV. Eraserhead was a lot more interesting than I remembered it being.

"Ya know, this came out when I was a little kid, and to this day, I don't get it," he complained. "It's a bunch of nonsense!" I hummed and snuggled against his chest more.

"Henry has anxiety about new fatherhood that he wasn't prepared for and sees this child as something to be feared and kept at a distance. Also he might be schizophrenic," I said. "It's a surrealist film, it isn't supposed to make sense. It's all about getting across a feeling." He scoffed.

"Feeling? What feeling? It's a bunch of nonsense." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay. Think about it this way. How did you feel the first time you looked at me? Don't tell me what you saw, just what you felt." Stan wouldn't look at me for a moment.

"I guess I felt like I got punched in the gut," he said. "I saw you through that window and... I knew I had to talk to ya or I'd regret it forever. But I never thought we'd end up here, lemme tell ya. I was fully expecting to strike out, ya know? Who knew you were crazy enough to move in with a bastard you just met!" I pinched his arm playfully and rested my head on his chest. "What about you? What did you think when this handsome devil walked in the door?" 

I blushed.

"Honestly, I thought you were a lonely old man with no one to talk to, so I was humoring you at first, and I thought you were very kind when you offered me a job and a place to crash." He kissed the top of my head.

"But... when I realized how much I like you, it was like a puzzle piece finally fit into place. I knew I was missing something, and I didn't think it was someone to love, but I'm glad it was. Now I get to spend time with a great guy who takes care of me." 

"Oh? Who's that? I don't think I met the lucky guy." We smiled.

I looked at the clock and jumped up to go grab a party hat. The alarm clock would go off in ten minutes to signal the new year. I put a hat on his head and sat in his lap, facing him and straddling his legs. He grabbed at my ass and grinned when I smacked his arm.

"It's the new year, Stan Pines. What's your resolution?" He cupped the side of my head with his strong hand and I leaned into it while we gazed into each other's eyes.

"My resolution is to be a better man for my family. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure my family is safe. And you're part of that, ya know." I reached up and grabbed the hand that was cupping my cheek and held it against my face more firmly.

"Mine is to do better for myself," I said. "My whole life, I've been a people pleaser and now the only person I want to make happy other than myself is you. No more being a doormat." He nodded to me with a smile. He was proud. I looked at the clock again.

Seven minutes.

Stan gripped my hips and leaned up to kiss me. It was gentler than normal. Instead of it being frenzied and lust filled, it was slow. Intimate. Our arms were wrapped around one another and our lips moved softly along at a steady rhythm.

Six minutes.

Stan's tongue slipped between my lips and caressed my own. I sucked at his tongue and slid my tongue over his gently. His hands wandered and squeezed my ass firmly. He pulled away from our kiss and started nibbling at my neck.

Five minute.

His hand snaked it's way between us and into my shorts to cup my sex. His teeth attacked my throat, his tongue licked away the bites. I gripped his hair and was whimpering under his touch.

Two minutes.

Stan slipped his middle finger into me and tugged my tank top down to suck my nipple into his mouth. His thumb rubbed into my clit quickly, almost frantically until I was bucking against him hard. He added another finger and pumped them in and out of me quickly. I tried to reach down and pull him from his boxers.

One minute,

He pumped his fingers faster, called me his good girl.

Thirty seconds.

I freed his cock and grabbed his shoulders while he pulled his fingers from me. I was close. He yanked me down onto his cock and I let out a sharp cry at the feeling. He groaned and his head tipped forward to press against mine.

Ten seconds.

He gripped my hips and leaned back to buck up into me. I was coming undone around him. I felt myself clench around him and he threw his head back in a moan. I gripped his shoulders tightly so I didn't fall off of him.

I was thrashing as my orgasm overtook me, and Stan kept chasing his own release through it. An alarm went off somewhere in the room, but we didn't care. Not when we were so wrapped up together.

He was getting sloppy, his thrusts still hitting deep as he made me ride out my pleasure. I felt him thicken inside me. Stan yanked me into an embrace as he wailed against my chest. I threw my arms around his shoulders. Warmth spread through me and I felt his cum dripping out of me.

Stan looked up at me with a flushed face and pulled me in for another kiss, softer this time. His softening cock slipped out of me and a mess leaked out onto his lap, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I love you, doll. I can't wait to spend the next year with you." We were both a mess. That's the fastest we've ever fucked before. I slumped against him and he rocked me gently until I felt myself starting to fall asleep. 

I remember him carrying me. Cleaning me with a wash cloth. Tucking me into his bed. Climbing in with me to cuddle. 

Happy new year.

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Chapter 14: Better Tell the Kids Soon

The Shack opened for the spring and I was back at the counter, where I belonged. It felt more domestic than before, somehow. Soos and I took care of day-to-day maintenance and helped put damaged displays back together while Stan, Mr. Mystery, used his charisma and smooth talking to make money.

Just before Spring Break, he got me out of bed early, telling me he had a surprise. I dragged myself to the shower as he isntructed.

When I returned to our room, he directed me to stand still and close my eyes. I felt him move my body and dress me. I felt a pair of pantyhose slide up my legs, followed by a tight skirt. A blouse was pulled over my head. A jacket was put on me. He helped me step into a pair of low heels. He pulled me blindly and had me sit on what felt like my vanity stool. I felt a light touch of makeup being applied to my face, and that's when I started to panic. My makeup wasn't cheap, after all! He pulled a comb through my hair and I felt him tie it back. It felt like a bun.

"Okay... stand right here..." He helped me walk to a spot and he adjusted my shoulders, urging me to stand straight and puff my chest out. "Open 'em!"

Before me was my reflection in our floor-length mirror. Stan was in his suit, and I now wore one to match, minus an eye patch. The red, frilly blouse was the same shade as his fez. The black pencil skirt came to my knees, the low mary-jane style heels and the sheer pantyhose made me look professional. My makeup was actually done well. Has he been practicing or something? The lipstick was new, though. I didn't have a red like this. Stan was beaming ear to ear and shuffling his feet like he was nervous. I smiled at his reflection.

"Stan, what's all this about?" He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple.

"I think you should run a few tours! Spring Break is big for our tourism and I got overwhelmed last year. I think we could run more tours on a quicker circuit if you joined me." My heart fluttered and I turned around to hug him. I had suggested this in passing months ago, but I didn't think he took me seriously! Not only did he listen, but he got me this whole outfit so I could look the part.

"Thank you, Stan."

He rubbed my back and kissed my temple again.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get makeup on my suit, doll. We open in ten minutes." I bit my lip to hide my grin before leaning up and pressing a hard kiss onto his cheek, making sure my lipstick print was left behind. "Hey!" I giggled and ran out, my heels making a satisfying click all the way to the gift shop.

Stan had a stain on his cheek the whole day. He had made the fortunate mistake of getting a waterproof lipstick, and I hid my makeup wipes from him. After a good ten minutes of scrubbing, he had to give up when a tour bus pulled up. He glared at me, but there was no real anger behind it. He loved it. He always liked to let people know he was taken, or that I was spoken for.

He let me join him on the first tour, giving me cues and letting me lead it with his assistance. We got through it without a hitch, actually! I even flirted with a few of the men on the tour, and at the end they gladly handed over the contents of their wallets at every gift suggestion I made. I knew Stan was proud at the end of the day.

I only knew, because he had chased me into the house as soon as the door was locked, and was lifting me onto the kitchen table quicker than I thought possible.

He pushed my skirt up so it bunched at my waist and yanked my tights and panties down before burying his face between my legs. I knocked his fez off and gripped his hair as he attacked my clit with harsh sucks and quick licks. He groaned against my cunt as he lapped at me.

My legs clamped around his head, but he pulled my legs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around them tight to hold me still. I couldn't hold onto his hair anymore and wound up with my arms hanging over the other side of the table as praises and moans spilled from my lips.

"Stan! Yes! Oh, right there! Fuck, you're so perfect! You're so good at that! Fuck! Stanley! Yes! You're so good for me, Stanley!" At the sound of his full name, he shoved two fingers into my spasming pussy and sucked harder on my clit with a growl. His other hand left my thigh and moved downward. I propped myself up and saw him yanking on his belt.

Stan's hair was a mess. His face was flushed. His mouth was clamped onto my pussy. He was gazing at me with fire and determination in his eyes.

And he was jerking off on the floor like a fucking dog.

The sight made my eyes roll back and the coil in my gut snapped. I shouted out as my orgasm took me and Stan yanked his fingers away to clamp his mouth over my spasming hole. He switched his hands and used my slick to wet his cock before pulling me to the floor and shoving himself inside me before I even found purchase. I cried out again at the sudden intrusion and gripped his shoulders as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

He pushed and pulled my hips, using me as a cocksleeve while I was too blissed out to care. I was drooling, babbling, showering Stan with praise until he grunted and held me tight against his hips, shutting his eyes and pressing his face into my shoulder.

He panted under me for a moment while I ran my fingers through his hair. I could feel the weakening pulse of his cock in the aftermath of his on release. He gave me a weak smirk as he slowly pulled me off of his cock before shoving two fingers back into me. I whimpered.

"Aw, look at that. Made a fuckin' mess in you, didn't I?" He was looking down at my ruined pussy. He pulled his fingers back out and spread my lower lips apart to watch my hole clench. "Such a good girl." He brought his fingers up to my mouth. "Open up, taste how good you are for me, doll." I did as he said. He pushed his two fingers into my mouth and massaged my tongue with them. I closed my lips around them and sucked, tasting the mix of both of us on his digits.

His eyes bowed at the sight and he pulled his fingers from my lips to kiss me deeply. We sat together on the floor for a while after that, touching gently, kissing softly, just enjoying one another as we basked in the glow of the best sex we had so far.

Spring Break came and our plan went perfectly. Mr. and Mrs. Mystery ran back to back tours for nearly eight hours straight every day. I had never felt so tired on a Saturday night, but as soon as the door was locked and the till was counted, I kicked my heels off and fell onto the couch.

"Stan, how the fuck do you do that all the damn time? My feet are killing me!" He chuckled and came to sit by me with a bowl of warm water and some lotion in his hands. He pulled my feet onto his lap before taking a rag and carefully washing my feet. This... is new behavior. I was a little concerned.

I tried to pull my feet away, but he held firm.

"Hey, what's this for? Stop it." He shook his head.

"I made ya wear the heels, I knew your feet were gonna be hurtin'. Lemme take care of ya. Thanks to you, this is the biggest Spring Break I've had in years! Can't remember the last time we made this much." He continued to wash my feet. "I gotta pamper my lady every now and then, right? Lemme do this for ya." It was still odd behavior for him.

"Seriously, Stan, you never do this. What's wrong?" He sighed but didn't look at me.

"Just... the kids will be here June first, and it's April now, and... I just wanna spend all the alone time I can with you before they get here. I don't want you feelin' ignored when they come around just because they need more attention. They don't know about the divorce yet and... I kinda feel like... it's my job to keep them from findin' out this summer and I was gonna ask you... could ya spend some time with them? Maybe treat 'em like your own kids? These two need all the love they can get."

I sat up and smiled at Stan.

"You don't even have to ask, stud. Your family is my family. Your kids are my kids. I fell in love with those kids when they came over, and the way you talk about them... I feel like I've known them their whole lives. Of course, I'll help you love them. And I promise not to feel ignored just because they need some extra attention."

I set the bowl and the lotion aside and climbed into his lap to hug him. Stan held me tight to his chest.

"I do need to tell you something, though. I'm uh..." I pulled back to look at him. "My mom called the other night. She's moving in August. And she needs my help packing up the house and doing yard sales. She already found a house in Portland, so she's moving closer to here." His grip on me tightened.

"So you're gonna go help her?" I nodded. He grinned. "Good! I like your ma. I'll miss you, though. You better come back quick. At this point I might die if I go too long without eatin' that pussy." I gasped and smacked his arm playfully. Stan took the news better than I expected. He laughed at my feeble attack and kissed my cheek.

If I ever told Brandon about visiting my family, he threw a fit and forbid me from going. Stan was at least supportive, if a little gross about it.

"You're gross, Stan." He grinned and kissed my cheek.

"You love me, though." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, whatever."

As June quickly approached, I spent more time getting the house ready while Soos worked in the gift shop. I swept up the attic and got the kids new sheets and pillows. I put a small desk with a lamp on one side for Dipper, and a beanbag and wicker basket full of yarn balls on the other side for Mabel. I stuck light-up stars to the ceiling and strung fairy lights around the room. I made it as comfy and inviting as they deserved. When I had asked Stan why one couldn't sleep in the spare room, he teared up, so I dropped it. No big deal.

The day we had to pick the kids up from the bus stop, Stan was nervous. He paced back and forth in front of the bench, checking his watch every few minutes, while I sat with a sudoku puzzle book to pass the time. He insisted we get here at sunrise to make sure we didn't miss the kids.

Just when Stan was about to blow a fuse, the bus rumbled up the road and Stan stood still, hands wringing nervously in front of him.

"Why are you so nervous, hon? The kids love you." He grunted.

"One day a year versus a whole summer? The kids have never spent more than a week with me, and never without their parents. And they still think I'm Stanford! And I haven't come clean about you yet. I can't lie to these kids about everything in my life!" I rubbed his arm.

"Then tell them one truth that you can live with. I know you can't tell them everything, so just tell them one of those." He looked down at me, the way I hugged his arm, and I could see gears turning in his head. He nodded and pulled me against him to kiss me deeply just as the bus doors opened.

Children making gagging sounds ensued. I giggled as Stan pulled back. Mabel dropped her bag and bounded over to the two of us.

"OH MY GOSH IT'S OFFICIAL!" She threw her arms around my waist and smiled up at me, braces on full display. "So I can tell people now, right?" I ruffled her hair while Stan picked up her bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Yes, you can, Mabes. Good to see you both!" I went to hug Dipper, but he gave a nervous laugh and we high fived instead. Mabel tugged on my arm.

"He's been in love with you since December. I think you just shattered his dreams a little." I blushed and eyed her.

"I'm flattered, but it was never gonna happen. Sorry kid, I'm in love with your gross, hairy, old Grunkle." Dipper's face was a bright red, nearly matching Stan's car.

I helped put their stuff in the trunk and we headed off towards the Shack, ready for our newest adventure.

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Chapter 15: Summer Goes

"Happy birthday..." I cooed in Stan's ear. He groaned and rolled over in bed, taking the blanket with him. I smiled. He didn't really like his birthday, but I was determined to make this one count. "Stan, c'mon... Don't you wanna know what I got you?"

He rolled onto his back and sighed as he eyed me. He's been down ever since he overheard the kids talking about him their first night here. A Magic 8-Ball is the only thing that kept them here. I had to do something to boost his mood before it ruined his whole summer.

"You know why I don't do my birthday, Jess." I nodded.

"I'm familiar. But will you let me give you a present anyway? I didn't even spend money on it." He rolled his eyes and nodded. I grinned and pulled the blanket over my head as I sunk beneath the covers, positioning myself between his legs.

"Whoa, doll... Not... you don't wanna... oooh!" I had pulled his cock from the split in his boxers and reached in to cup his balls. I couldn't see his face. I could feel him gripping the blanket as I licked up the underside of his cock. It was hardening quickly. I gave him a few gentle pumps until he was standing at attention, then I sunk my mouth around him fully. His hands tangled in my hair and I heard him groan above me.

I bobbed my head slowly, sucked deeply, took him as deep as possible while my hand cupped and fondled his sack. I pulled off of him just long enough to yank his boxers down and bunch them at his knees. I ran my hands up his hairy thighs, admiring his silver hair, before licking up his shaft again. I closed my lips around the tip again and licked gently over the hole where his precum was beading. I pulled his boxers off the rest of the way before yanking off the blanket and pressing his legs up toward his chest.

"Doll... wha.. what are you doin'?" I smiled and bent down to wrap my lips around his cock again while I kept his legs up. He let out another soft groan. I ran one hand down to stroke his sack again, before trailing it down to thumb at his taint. He bucked his hips into my mouth. "Whoa! Hey, huh, baby..." I gazed up at him while I hollowed my cheeks and slowly worked my thumb inward. His hips bucked again and his cock hit the back of my throat. I pressed my thumb gently against his asshole and he gripped the sheets.

"Baby, that's... that ain't... oh, god..." I made small circles on his asshole as I bobbed my head, sucking slowly on his cock again. "That's... that's different. Oookay... baby you gotta... fuck okay." I switched to using a finger and pressed gently into his asshole. I felt him tense as the pad of my finger opened him up slightly. I kept a steady rhythm on his cock while I stretched his asshole enough to sink my finger into him.

I pumped my finger in time with my head bobs, searching. I found the firm, smooth spot I was searching for and pressed on it. Stan groaned and slapped a hand over his mouth as his cock twitched against my tongue. I pulled off his his cock and stroked him with my hand while I massaged his prostate. His cheek were red and sweat beaded at his hairline while I worked at him.

"Fuu... doll... wha..." He couldn't form a complete sentence. I smiled and stroked his cock faster. I felt him twitching in my hand as his hips bucked. I kept a firm press on his prostate and watched him bite his lip and screw his eyes shut. I stroked his cock faster until he grunted and pressed his head back into the pillow as cum spurted out onto my hand and his chest. I slowly kept stroking him as I pulled my hand out and bent down to kiss him once he finally stopped coming.

"Was that okay, stud?" He was panting and looked dazed. He gripped my hands and pulled me up the bed, ignoring the mess of come on my hands as he pulled me in for a kiss.

"Next time... Warn me... but it was good." I smiled and laid my head on his still heaving chest.

"Happy birthday, Stanley," I whispered. He ran a hand through my hair. We remained basking in it for a moment longer until I was finally uncomfortable with the sticky mess I was laying in. "You wanna shower together?"

I didn't have to ask him twice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Kids! Get in the car!" At my suggestion, he was taking the kids fishing. Bonding would be good for them. I stayed up late with him the night before sewing names onto fishing hats for the kids.

"You sure you don't wanna come?" he asked. I waved him off.

"I have a few things to take care of. You three have fun! Bring back enough for dinner, too!"

I saw the kids out the door with hugs and forehead kisses, despite their grumbling about not wanting to go on a mysterious adventure with Stan. It was going to be a surprise for them.

"You'll have fun, I promise. And it's about time the tree of you spent quality time together!" As soon as the car pulled away, I went to Stan's office and sat in the big chair.

I spent the day balancing the shack's account, paying out employees, and organizing moving people for my mom. If I get ahead of it, I can keep things on track for her. She isn't the best at planning ahead, after all. Ever since her divorce years ago, she's gotten into spiritualism and crystals, and that's great, but she also neglects herself now. Part of me feel obligated to help.

I was sitting on the couch, watching an old period drama when they came home, all of them laughing together. Must have been a success! The kids ran upstairs to shower and Stan flopped down next to me with a grin.

"Rocky start, but it ended better than I hoped. Lost all the fish, though." I giggled and kissed his cheek.

"That's okay. I ordered a pizza. It'll be here in twenty. Go get outta that vest, mister!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parties, new friends, summer romances, and giving Mystery Shack tours filled my days. Stan stopped smoking and drinking with the kids around, only lighting a cigar late at night in his office while the kids were sleeping. One night in late July, he hadn't come to bed yet and he wasn't in his office. I went looking and found him coming in from the gift shop, sweaty and covered in dirt and grime from mechanical parts.

"Portal is almost done. If I just had the last journal, I could do it!" He wiped his hands on a rag and slung it over his shoulder before kissing my cheek. I followed him to the porch and we sat on the couch together. I watched him light a cigar and puff smoke out before sighing.

I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the smoke curl up and dissipate into the night air. Moments like this were peaceful, but still full of sadness. I couldn't begin to understand Stan's pain at losing his brother in such a devastating way, so I wouldn't question his dedication. It clearly ate at him, no matter how much I tried to keep his spirits up.

"Am I a fuck-up?" he asked. "Can I just do somethin' right? I got my brother all but killed, I faked my death and no one even showed up to the funeral, all my success with the Shack has been under Stanford's name! Even the kids don't really like bein' here. They say they do, but I can tell." I looked up at him and grabbed his ear to shake his head. "Hey! Knock it off!"

"Stan Pines. Those kids love you. Mabel is basically a little you! You are successful because of you. Not your assumed name. You think anyone else could have done everything you have?" He grumbled and glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

"So? At the end of the day, it's all because of him. Nothin' I do anymore is because of me." I sat up and pulled the cigar from his mouth.

"What am I, then? Because last I checked, I fell in love with you, not your brother." He furrowed his brows and looked at his hands. "Stan, you are so smart and so talented and so handsome, and I love you for you. And I'm pretty sure you love me, too. And that has nothing to do with your brother." I handed him back his cigar and got up to leave, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me backwards into his lap.

His strong arms came around me and he buried his face in my back. He dropped his cigar to the ground next to the porch and held me tight. He was shaking, as if he were crying. I rubbed his arms gently.

"Thank you," he whispered against my back. "I don't deserve you, baby." I smacked his arm gently.

"You deserve everything, Stanley."

[manestjerne]

Let me save you pt. VI

Juice Ortiz x female

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, bad language, violence, mentions of sex(?), angst

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for such a long break, I had this in my drafts for some time, but couldn't get myself to post it, but I'm back now and I'll try to be more consistent 🫶🏻

Walking to the kitchen alone in the morning was a really bad decision. The place was a complete mess and so many things I never wanted to see flashed before my eyes. Passing a few people I really wanted to stop and make sure they’re still alive, but gladly I just walked pass by the disgusting scene, making sure I won’t put my foot in anything on the floor, either people or weird, unrecognized substances. Too early to eat anything as always I just poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down by the kitchen table, praying no one walks in. I haven’t talked with anybody besides Juice about yesterdays situation and I wasn’t sure if they approved what I did. Gemma is probably proud. Looking at the shelves filled with instant food packages I realized I used to do much worse things. Yeah, but you were home. Your place. It’s not my place anymore, but it was back then. I don’t think I have my place now, but it’s definitely not here. Showing up at night looking like I was hit by a truck and then showing some attitude to a girl who’s from here was probably not the best option. Was it? I locked my eyes on a canned chicken soup and my stomach turned upside down. That’s disgusting. 

- Hey - I flinched when Bobby pulled me out of my thoughts 

- You’re up early.

It’s not early, but looking at how many people were still passed out it was surprising to see someone alive.

- Decided to give my liver a rest yesterday - he replied calmly pouring himself a cup of fresh coffee and sitting next to me - What about you? 

- My liver deserved a rest years ago, I’m too old for that kind of parties - I said jokingly to keep the conversation as far from the shattered glasses as I could 

- I don’t know how he did that, but Chibs told us you’re not letting things like that slide easily. 

Shit, my brilliant plan didn’t work.

- Look, I don’t want to sound like a toddler, but she started. I’m not here to cause any drama.

- Actually - he looked down trying to hide his smile - I’m sure some people there were glad somebody finally did that. 

- What do you mean? - he tried to lock his eyes with mine but I kept looking at the chicken soup in the corner 

- See, Ima is the CaraCara girl.  Not many are fond of her, but she’s making good money with Layla, and there’s actually no reason to get rid of her, a pornstar being annoying and slutty is not that much of a deal when you think about it. I work at the studio as an accountant so I spend quite a lot of time with the girls, maybe I don’t know them that well, but you know…

- Deep inside she’s just a lost, lovely girl? - I asked with a little sarcasm when I saw him struggling to finish the sentence, but he bursted out laughing 

- No, she’s really just an annoying slut, I don’t know where I was going there.

I finally left the soup and looked at him laughing, felt a smile forming on my face.

- Just don’t blame yourself, you sat here looking like you had a moral hangover.

- I don’t actually blame myself, but feels like I needed someone else to say that, thanks Bobby.

He replied with a warm smile. 

- I should go and finish the party for good now, see you later.

I sat there for a minute after he left. It’s kinda sad people approach me when I’m just sitting alone, my resting face must be extremely depressed. I slowly got up from the chair and dragged my feet back to the bedroom. When I walked into the room Juice just got out of the bathroom. I looked at the single cup of coffee in my hand. Lovely. 

- And that’s… for you - I smiled and handed him the cup which he accepted with his hand still wet from the shower

- Oh wow, so lovely, you went there just to get me a coffee and didn’t even think about yourself? - he took a sip and handed me the cup back with a smile 

- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that. 

He would bring me a coffee. 

- Who were you talking to? - he asked calmly but I felt shivers anyway

- No one. 

Why would I lie? What’s the point? He turned back to me and laughed politely to ensure me he’s not mad, but curious. 

- You were sitting there for so long alone? Come on, I just want to know if you’re getting along with anybody - he still smiled softly putting on  his shirt 

- Oh, excuse me? - I laughed forgetting about how uncomfortable I just was - I was talking with Bobby, but just so you know, I get along with a lot of people here. Like Lyla, she’s great. And Chibs. And Tig. Oh, and Opie, yeah, Opie’s cool. And… And Chucky! 

- Okay, alright - he wrapped his arms around me to stop me from thinking of more names - I’m glad you’re feeling good here. 

- Yeah, about feeling good, it’s great here, but can we go home? 

- Sure - he said not letting me go

- I believe you have to let me go so I can grab my stuff and get in the car. 

- Oh Christ, sorry I was even touching you princess. Want me to carry you so your shoes don’t get too dirty? - he responded handing me my bag 

How is he smiling all the time? That’s probably the thing I love about him the most, but that’s also something to think about. On our way to the car we stopped at the bar. Bobby sitting on the stool with his face hidden in his hands was looking pretty pathetic. But not so pathetic as all the people still lying in different, sometimes weird places. 

- How was your finishing the party? - I asked putting my hand on his shoulder, he patted it lightly 

- Just as you can see. You know what? - he looked at our bags - I’m going home too, Clay should handle this, I’m not responsible for other charters, am I? 

- You should go - Juice said firmly, exactly as he needed, Bobby immediately got up and walked us to the car 

- I believe todays vote will be postponed for tomorrow - he said before Juice sat behind the wheel - use your day off well.

Looking at me he smiled once again and next seconds Juice was starting the engine. 

- Gross - I said jokingly 

- What do you mean? 

- That thing about your “day off”. Use it well. On me? Come on. 

- That’s not what he meant - he sounded serious, but a smile was still fully visible on his face 

- Then what did he mean? 

- He definitely meant my bike, I should work on it - he now laughed out loud - by the way, you saw it? 

I moved my head and looked out through the window. 

- Saw what? 

- My bike. 

- Yeah, I see it pretty much everyday, it’s hard to not see it when you live with a biker. It’s nice, even lovely I’d say. 

- I don’t mean that one. 

I kept looking through the window acting like I don’t know about the other one hidden in the garage. He shouldn’t be mad, I definitely didn’t break anything, but maybe he doesn’t know I’ve touched it, why should I tell him myself? 

- You have more than one bike? That’s so cool - I smiled to myself and felt him staring at the back of my head 

- Y/n, you know I won’t be mad. 

- Mad? About what? - I realized he can see my face in the reflection on the glass so I immediately stopped smiling and looked at him. 

- Just wanted to tell that you did well - he smiled at my reaction - must’ve taken you a few hours, huh? 

- I’m sorry, but it’s pretty boring to be alone and not at home, I was looking for anything to do. And when did you even have time to see that I’ve touched it? I left all the tools exactly where they were before, you have like a dairy or what? - I laughed and realized we were pulling into the driveway 

- Sometimes when I can’t sleep and think too much I go there trying to relax, so you don’t know I did that probably because you were sleeping. 

- You know - I stopped because he rushed to open the door for me right after he parked - you know you can talk to me? I’m probably better at that stuff than your secret bike. 

- I’m not schizophrenic or anything, I do all the talking in my head so it won’t be weird. 

I just gave him a meaningful look and followed him inside. 

- I’m worried about tomorrow - I said after settling on the couch 

- What’s tomorrow? Your first day at work? - my blank stare must’ve said everything because he continued without my answer - Why? You did all that nursing stuff before, didn’t you? 

- No, I’ve actually never done that, that’s why they hired me. What’s wrong with you today? - I took a sip of  my tea waiting for his response wondering if I’m not too harsh, but he laughed as softly as always 

- I think I’m just tired. 

- Tired of bitches hitting up on you all night? 

- Alright, from what I can remember there was only one bitch hitting up on me yesterday. 

- And I really hope you mean Ima - I laughed 

I was pretty shocked I got over it so fast and didn’t overthink what happened last night. 

- Well, you definitely don’t need to beg me for attention so I definitely didn’t mean you. 

Is this about the “I love you” thing? I really don’t want to talk about this now. 

- Good to hear that - I smiled and run to another topic immediately - so do we have a free evening today or you want to go check in at the club? 

- Remember what Bobby said? - he asked playfully 

- Oh come on, I’m serious now.

- Yeah, me too. How about a movie night? 

- How about a walk? 

Looking at his face I could see my question put him off guard. 

- What? - I laughed at the silence 

- Where do you want to go? - his tone became more firm and calm

- I don’t know, aren’t there any parks here? - I laughed and grabbed his thigh gently - Juice, if you don’t want to we don’t have to do that, I just asked. But I’d still like to know what’s so terrible about walks. 

I tried to stop smiling but the fact that he looked terrified by the idea of taking a walk was pretty hilarious. 

- No, I’m sorry, of course we can go for a walk, it’s just that I prefer spending my free time at home - he smoothed out the pillow not even looking at me

- Are you really afraid something might happen? - I asked moving other pillows out of his reach when he tried to grab another one 

- l just, you know - I don’t, keep talking - well, many people know me here - he finally got the courage to look at me and his sad puppy eyes literally made me want to cry 

- I’m sorry, but what’s wrong with people knowing who you are? - I truly didn’t understand what he meant and asking was the best option since I wasn’t scared of being embarrassed anymore 

- I’m sorry, I just want you to be safe and I know that there are only two places I can be sure about you not getting hurt, here and at the clubhouse. I know it sounds out of line, but some people want to hurt us and they know their best ways to do that. 

-So the best way to hurt you would be hurting me, huh? - I tried to comfort him and did the literal opposite, but still got a little smile from him 

-I know how it sounds, really. Especially when I told you I’m just a member of a club, but- 

-Yeah, I know it’s not just a club, I’m not that stupid - this time comforting him went a little better and he finally took his hand off the perfectly flattened pillow to grab my hand 

-You’re really important to me, and however unrealistic this sounds, I need to protect you at all costs right now. It’s not always going to be like that, but we got ourselves into some trouble lately. 

-Is it about the drugs? The club trying to leave is just not going as Jax planned? 

Maybe I shouldn’t say that, but on the other hand it might help him to open and talk to me. I already knew more than he thought, why wouldn’t he just talk to me about it now? The silence between us was pretty loud and his concerned face made me want to laugh, but I tried to keep a straight face to show him I’m serious. 

-What do you mean „the drugs”? 

-Oh come on, you really want to play that game? - his question annoyed me a little, even tho I did the same thing all the time 

-How do you even know about that? - he wasn’t angry, more stressed and worried, his hands landing on the pillow again 

-Okay, are you going to answer my question or we don’t have anything to talk about? 

-Yes, it’s about drugs. Leaving the business isn’t as easy as we thought, and Clay is not cooperating with Jax. Except this whole shit with drugs we have a lot going on inside our charter. It looks like nothing is going to be  better unless these two work their shit out, and I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon - he opened even a little more than I expected, but I was so glad he finally did that - that’s why I’m worried about you and about what might happen.

-Thank you for being honest with me, I really appreciate that - I gently took the pillow from him and replaced it with my hands - I know you can’t talk a lot about the club stuff, but you can still talk about your feelings, that’s not pathetic, I cried in front of you so many times, come on.

I tried to lighten him up and believed it worked, since he gave me a bright smile. 

-Okay, I’ll try, but for now is it enough? - he chuckled 

-Well, I accept that, but I’ll demand more honesty in the future if you want to spend it with me. 

I looked down, his hands, always steady, now shaking a little, not matching his cheerful smile. His eyes dark, I could even say full of joy. Hiding his emotions started getting harder, or maybe I was better at reading it. 

-You have no idea how much I want that - he smiled so adorably I almost fell for it, but another look at his hands worried me again 

Using how close we were to each other I sat on his laps and let him hide his face in my neck. His hands immediately started wandering around my back and when they found the spot he pulled me closer. I tried to sink in the moment, when he suddenly threw me off his knees, my back landing on the soft couch I was trapped by his body. It was so gentle, yet so fast that I froze under him. 

-The fuck was that? - I asked completely confused 

-I just wanted to see your reaction, but that little scream was so cute - wide smile wasn’t leaving his face, he looked amused by my consternation - are you ticklish? 

-Juan, don’t try that, get off me - I said firmly trying not to laugh

-I promise I’ll start talking about my feelings, I just need some time - he said not moving 

-Okay, okay, I trust you but let me go - I was now laughing with him 

He slowly got up letting me do the same thing. I got closer to his face, putting my hands around his neck and just looked him in the eyes. Juice immediately shortened the distance by kissing me, licking my lip I opened my mouth to let him in when the doorbell interrupted us. He slowly pulled back and rested his forehead on mine and I just started laughing. Like a damn movie. 

-Stay here - he got up and dragged his feet towards the door unlocking it slowly 

-Hey Juicy - I heard Chibs so I made my way to the door, not wanting him to take my boyfriend away from me again 

My who? 

-Hi Chibs, perfect timing, what’s up? 

-The vote’s tomorrow at 6 - he smiled softly to greet me 

-And that’s why you came all the way here? - I asked amused by Juice’s reaction 

-Well, maybe if he’d pick up his damn phone I wouldn’t have to do that - he stepped through the door and closed it - that vote might take a little longer, I talked to the guys from north and they are not giving up so easily, just so you know - he gave Juice a serious look - am I interrupting you? 

-No, we were just going to my old place to get some stuff, since you have so much free time you can come with us to help - I smiled at him and then saw Juice’s face - we talked about it yesterday… 

-Oh yeah, we did, I’m sorry - he brightened up immediately 

-Actually I don’t have anything better to do, you want me to call Tig? 

-That would be nice - I said before Juice even opened his mouth - Juice, you have any empty boxes in your garage? 

-Yeah, there are some. 

-So I’ll call Tiggy and you kids go find some boxes so we can go - Chibs smiled at us once again and went through the door 

-Juice - I said with a straight face - did you mute your phone to „use your time well” with me? - I tried not to smile 

-Of course not - he laughed and started walking towards the garage - I must’ve did that by accident.

-You’re a bad liar, really. 

-I think that’s good - he pinned me to the wall and kissed me softly - will we finish that later? 

-Oh god, stop - I laughed and walked under his hand to free myself - let’s get the boxes, how many do you have? 

-And how many do you want? You have much stuff there? - he started going through the empty boxes and throwing the bigger ones in my direction 

-Well, should I get all of it? Will you get me a place when I can store them? - I asked while folding the boxes and putting them aside 

-Can’t you just unpack here? Why would you keep your things in the boxes? 

I kept my eyes on the flatted pile I just made. 

-You want me to stay here for good? I know you for like a month, I can’t just move in. 

-So you’re just living here temporarily, huh? - he also wasn’t looking at me but I saw him smiling 

-Well, if that’s what you mean then I can tell you I was looking for some houses for sale here. 

He threw a last one at me and came closer. 

-I mean that I want you to feel like at home here. You don’t have to move out, I have plenty of free space, there’s even a free bedroom upstairs if you don’t want to share the bed anymore. 

-Don’t you think it’s a little bit early to live together? We’re not even a couple or anything - I tried not to look at him but he made it impossible

-Aren’t we? - he took the boxes I just folded and went outside - I want you to stay here - he yelled while putting them in the trunk 

-Tig will wait at the clubhouse for us, I believe you want to switch the car for a bigger one if we’re taking all of your shit here - Chibs said when I met them at the driveway 

-Yeah, sure - I sat on the passenger sit and waited for Juice to join me 

We drove to Lodi in silence, but I saw him looking at me from time to time, smile not leaving his face. I was really happy about what he said, but didn’t want to show him that i really care about that. Acting casual wasn’t my best skill, but I both didn’t want to scare him or just ruin what we already had, so I chose to ignore my feelings for now. When we pulled up Juice parked the truck right in front of the door and guys left their bikes a little closer to the street. When we entered the building my hands were empty, nobody let me carry anything so I just led them upstairs and unlocked the door. 

-So there’s no elevator here, huh? - Tig asked when i was fighting with my shaky hands to put the key in 

-Yeah, you’ll have to carry all the boxes alone, or you can let me help you - I said opening the door and letting them in 

-You’re not carrying anything, just focus on the packing - Chibs said letting me go in front of him - stop whining Tiggy. 

But I wasn’t listening to him, what I saw made me freeze where I was standing. Should’ve cleaned that up before leaving. Blood drops on the floor, marking the paths where I was walking before I cleaned myself up. Bloody tissues on the table and now also on the floor, bathroom sink still covered in blood, perfectly visible since I left the door open. 

-That’s quite a lot of blood for such a small person - Tig said and put the boxes down - but we’ve seen worse, don’t worry, where should we start? 

We’ve seen worse? That’s it? Wow. 

-You can get all the stuff from here and the kitchen, I’ll go get the bathroom and bedroom - I said and quietly left with a few boxes in my hands 

I never liked packing, but today it was different. I never wanted to see that apartment again, it was so nice and I loved it with all my heart, but now it was hard to feel safe here. Glad that nobody interrupted me I just focused on packing when I heard someone knocking on the door. I went to check what’s going on, but seeing the three of them froze, just staring at the door made me laugh. 

-Are we expecting any guests? - Chibs asked when I entered the room 

-Why don’t you just check who that is? - I said a little bit more annoyed than I meant to

I walked toward the door and saw all of them reaching their belts, pretty sure what they had there. 

-That’s fucking pathetic - I said looking at their reaction and slowly opened the door 

-I thought you’re not going to open, like you’re mad that I just left you, oh wait, you can’t be mad, because you’re the one who left me - Nat laughed and walked pass me not waiting for an invitation to come inside - oh hello gentleman - she put her bag on the table

-Guys, that’s Nat, Nat this is Tig and Chibs, I think you remember Juice - I smiled looking at their reaction 

-Of course I remember, hi everyone - she started going through her bag looking for something 

-Tig, don’t even try - I said when I saw him walking her way - you’re all being rude right now - I laughed when they just kept looking at her not saying anything and got a quiet “hi Nat” from all three as a response 

-But she’s not going to kill us, right? - Chibs joked looking around at the bloody mess - she’s not the one I guess? 

-Sadly I left all my white weapons at home, so you have advantage over me - she moved her head up and looked at his belt - oh I found it, you’re going for a smoke? - she put her lighter in the pocket and looked at me 

-Sure - I responded quickly and followed her to the balcony - how did you even know I’m here? You’re stalking me or what? - I laughed as soon as the door closed behind us 

-I was just walking by and saw two bikes in front of the building, who else could it be? - she sat on the bench and kept looking at me with her weird, cute smile 

-Why are you looking at me like that? - I laughed - it’s been a week, not like I’ve abandoned you or anything 

-Are you okay? I’m sorry, but your explanations over texts weren’t really convincing - she patted the spot besides her 

-I had some mess to clean up lately - I said sitting down 

-Yeah, pretty cute mess - she looked through the window at guys packing my stuff - you live with them? 

-They don’t live together - I laughed loudly at her question - I’m staying at Juice’s for now, I’m not sure what to do next. 

-He rescued you and let you move in after knowing you for a month? What a hero - I knew it was not fully sarcastic, even tho she tried to sound like it - he loves you or what? 

-He actually told me he does - I responded not looking at her 

-Are you shitting me right now? You love him too? Girl what happened to your independent, 'I don’t need any man', lifestyle. I thought you’re just going to fuck him - she shook her head in fake disbelief trying not to laugh 

-I actually don’t know, I didn’t say anything. 

-Okay, you really have to be kidding me - she laughed now 

-Oh shut up, do you want to help me pack since you’re here? 

About an hour later a stack of heavy boxes filled with all my stuff was standing near the door. Tig and Chibs went to the bus to pack the first ones and I sat on the couch to clear things out with Nat. 

-You’re not mad at me, are you? - I asked watching as Juice went to the kitchen and leaned back on the counter 

-Why would I be? - she laughed - because you left me in this shitty town with my shitty job? Come on y/n, I always cheered you up, I’m really glad you got the job you wanted so bad. 

-The job is one thing,  it I still moved away not even telling you straight away, I feel kinda bad about it - and what I said was honest, I knew it was my life and I was the only person who should decide about it, but the demons from my past or whatever we’re still chasing me and I felt like I needed permission for everything 

-Sweetheart - she looked at me with her lovely eyes, and leaned in to make sure I can hear every word she says - are you fucking kidding me? It’s your life and you have to be god damn happy, don’t worry about other people so much, we’ve already been there and I thought you understood it’s a bad idea.

We both laughed and I picked my bag from the floor when the guys came back upstairs. 

-Okay, let’s go - I grabbed a box and headed to the door 

-I don’t think so - Chibs took it from me and placed it back down on the floor - ten minutes and everything should be handled, you should spare your wrists.

Nat joined me and watched all the of them carrying the boxes downstairs.

-What’s your schedule next weekend? - I asked when they disappeared behind the last wall

-Not sure yet, why? Want me to come visit your big town? - she laughed and threw her bag over her shoulder 

-Yeah, you should come by, I’ll probably be alone for a while - she smiled at me and slowly walked through the door

-We’ll keep in touch - she blowed me a kiss - bye, love ya.

-When are you planning to start unpacking? - Juice was leaning on the kitchen counter and looking at the boxes besides the door

I walked up to the fridge and got myself a beer.

-Are they bothering you so much? - I stood next to him looking in the same direction 

-I mean, not really, just wondering - he took a sip from his bottle 

-Oh, you’re such a pedant - I smiled at him - I wanted to at least start today, but I don’t think I have enough energy for that, I’m sorry. This work thing is kind of stressing me out, like it’s my first day ever. I just want it to be over, then I’ll take care of other stuff, is that okay?

-Of course it’s okay - he looked at me as softly as always, I wondered what would I have to do to make him mad - I’ll help you whenever you’re ready.

I didn’t have a chance to answer, because his phone drown my quiet „thanks” out. After his short answers I could immediately recognize it was a call from the club. What else could it be? I was expecting that.

-I need you to come with me - he said firmly while putting his cell back in the pocket 

-I can stay alone Juice, we’ve talked about it. I’ll be fine. 

-No - he looked serious and worried at the same time - They need you at the clubhouse.

I wasn’t expecting that.

-Why? What happened? - I asked when he nervously started looking for the car keys

-Couldn’t tell me on the phone - he answered calmly, still not looking at me - so probably there’s someone to patch up.

-Okay - I said without hesitation and he finally looked at me

-You don’t have to get involved in the club shit, that’s my shit and I can get you out of it if you want. Just this one time if there really isn’t anyone else to help, we’ll figure this out, okay?

-Juice - now I was smiling softly - I’m fine with that, really. Our shit now.

We hurried through the door and it was surprisingly quiet inside, but everyone got up from their seats when we walked through the door. 

-Kozik got hit, Tara’s out of town and we need someone to take care of him. Her bag is already there, just come with me - Jax grabbed my arm and pulled me slightly so | would follow him

I entered the chapel and heard multiple footsteps following me, but I couldn’t focus on that. A blonde man was laying on the massive wooden table. His bare chest was covered in blood, a hole in his upper arm made it pretty clear that he was shot. I froze, not at the fact that a man with probably a bullet in his body was casually laying on the table, a prospect next to him trying to stop the bleeding, but because I was the one to help him. I haven’t done anything like that in some time, had no idea where to start I started panicking quietly. 

-Tell us how to help - Chips nudged me softly but firmly 

-Did it went through? - I asked filled with fake hope 

-Did it what? - the prospect holding a soaked cloth looked at me like I was a ghost 

-How many holes are there? - I smiled sarcastically - Is the bullet still inside or did it went through? Let me see. 

Chibs helped raising Kozik’s arm up and of course the bullet was still inside 

-I’m not a damn neuro or ortho to deal with such stuff smoothly - I said looking through Tara’s bag and trying to focus.

-You don’t have to get him perfectly fine, we can cut that arm off if you’ll say that’s the best option.

-Shut up Tig, that’s not funny anymore - said Jax

I looked up and saw him sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, sipping on his beer like nothing was happening.

I came back to the table and took a closer look at the wound. 

-It’s not deep, you have to hold him still and I’ll take the bullet out - I wasn’t sure how to do that, I had to deal with worse things in the past, but every memory of it just vanished at instant - I’ll count to three.

The faster the better. I saw a bloody mess before digging my fingers into the hole. It was gross even through the gloves, I thought I can feel my legs shaking. Trying not to make more damage I wanted to focus but the screams made it impossible and I couldn’t find the right angle to take a grip on the bullet. 

-Shut him the fuck up - I said calmly concentrating on where my fingers were going and suddenly I looked at my hand, hovered in blood, holding a shiny piece of metal

Glad that the worst part was already over I started to put stitches on, kinda surprised the bleeding almost stopped. 

-I don’t think any arteries were damaged, he should be fine soon - I said to Jax who was sitting on a stool next to mine 

-I really appreciate you came to help us, thank you - he said sadly, eyes locked on the countertop in front of him

-You’ve helped me enough, that’s the least I can do. If you ever need me again, don’t hesitate, I’ll gladly do it again - I said knowing it was bullshit, but he smiled slightly - I really have to go now, but I can check in tomorrow after work if you want me to. 

-That would be great, thank you - he said and I left to find Juice - Are you coming with me? - I said when our eyes met 

-Of course, let’s go -  his eyes not as bright as always, smile almost fully fainted and I instantly knew he was just disappointed with me

Tara would’ve done it better, of course, but she’s not here. I’m not even a doctor, and he’s alive so overall I didn’t do such a bad job. I rested my head on the cold window as I sat down in the passengers seat. The sky was beautifully clear, you could count all the stars, a perfect night for a walk, but surely I should forget about that. I closed my eyes and waited for the car to stop so I could just go to bed and burry myself under the covers. When we pulled up I took my purse from the back seat and grabbed the door handle, but Juice was faster as always. He opened the door for me and gave me his gentle hand along with a polite smile. I rushed ahead of him and quickly changed into my pajamas before crawling into bed, but it wasn’t long before he joined me, putting his hand on m hip and kissing my shoulder. We laid in silence for what felt like hours and I couldnt get myself to sleep, move or even talk. I was completely frozen wandering what he was thinking about.

-I’m sorry - was all I mumbled after getting enough courage to open my mouth

-You’re not asleep? - he stopped rubbing my arm and sounded pretty shocked 

-I really am, I know I should’ve done better, but I was just scared. I don’t know why, it’s not the circumstances, I just felt like I never did that before and it is fucking scary looking at the fact that im supposed to do such stuff everyday starting tomorrow. I think I’ve lost my damn spark, or whatever it was, I should just stayed behind the bar and do what I was good at. I don’t want that job anymore, I don’t want to do that and I’m scarred I’ll fuck someone's life soon, that’s clearly not for me. 

He didn’t interrupt my monologue, just grabbed my shoulder and rolled me over so that I was facing him. Is he really fucking smiling right now?

-I know it sounds pathetic and I don’t just feel sorry for myself, I think I-

He interrupted me this time with a soft chuckle followed by a clearly sad face.

-I should apologize to you, I promised to keep my life away from you, but I didn’t really have a choice there. But you did great y/n, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

-My hands were shaking - I said seriously 

-Have you ever taken a bullet out of a stranger’s arm? In a motorcycle clubhouse? Surrounded by a dozen of other bikers? - he smiled, but I knew it wasn’t honest

-No, but that’s not the point Juice - I heard my voice trembling, not aware of being at the edge of crying

-Oh don’t do that to me, I hate when you cry, especially when it's because of me, I promised not to do that anymore, remember? - his smile seemed more confident now and I almost fell for it 

-It’s not because of you, I don’t want to do that anymore.

-Then don’t - he said calmly looking me in the eyes

-What do you mean, „don’t”?

-Well, just don’t work, be a house wife and let me support you - he got a quiet laugh from me

-I’m sorry I’m such a whiner sometimes.

-I’m sorry I got you into that - he looked at the clock - you should go to sleep now, it’s late.

I didn’t want to know what time it is and I was glad he stayed quiet, knowing how little sleep I’ll get before my first day wasn’t a good idea. I snuggled into his chest feeling relaxed and safe, as I should’ve from the beginning. Next time just talk to him, burying your emotions won’t help.

-Thank you, goodnight.

-Goodnight, I love you. 

[becauseimanicequeen]

I've been busy painting lately and haven't had the time to write much about the stuff I've watched or answer the asks that have appeared in my inbox. So I thought I would gather some of it in one post. Let's go!

Why am I Watching QLs at 30+?

Let's get the shit out of the way first because I have better things to do than to focus on ridiculous shit (unless it's a show that entertains the fuck out of me by being ridiculous). But, since this is an opportunity for me to (hopefully) broaden the perspective of this particular Anon, I will take it now that I have some spare time.

To give some context: This ask dropped into my inbox during the Olympics (when I was busy having fun watching gymnasts be superhuman and swimmers in their 30s winning gold medals rather than answering asks), where an Anon asked me why I, a grown-ass 30+-year-old person, participated in the BL space and said it was embarrassing, blah blah blah.

Short answer: I didn't know people stopped being queer at 30...

Longer answer: I've intuitively known I'm queer since I was a teenager. It's just that I had to focus on surviving my teens and twenties (mostly due to grief that kept piling on) rather than exploring who I was.

I didn't find the opportunity, time, and space to go inward until the pandemic when my depression released some of its hold on me (I know that sounds weird given the global situation at the time, but that was my personal experience during 2020-2022). Then, when I found the Asian QL world about 14 months ago, I started to understand myself even more. I've learned more about myself in 14 months than the two decades before that.

The core of what I'm saying here is that not everyone realizes they're queer in their teens. And no matter what age someone is, we all deserve to see stories we can relate to. The QLs I've seen have given me so much, even the bad ones (and especially the very bad ones, lmao). I'm sure there are others out there with the same experience.

BLs/GLs/QLs don't have an upper age limit. Got it? Great. Moving on...

What Happened to My Color Posts?

Another Anon sent me an ask about my color posts a week ago, asking me why I wasn't writing them anymore and if I'll be writing more of them again.

The honest answer is that I'm busy using color (painting) rather than writing about them.

I'm currently working on a project with some other artist friends and paint around 8-10 hours/day 5-6 days/week (at least at the moment). The project won't be done until sometime during April next year, and I'm loving it here.

Will I write about color again? Sure. If I get the time and feel like it. But, at the moment, I don't have anything I feel like writing about and I would rather just throw color (paint) on canvases instead.

What I'm Currently Watching

Another Anon asked me what I was currently watching since my tumblr seemed to only be filled with 4 Minutes (which clearly showed my obsession with that show, lol), and which of those shows was my current favorite (excluding 4 Minutes).

I'm basically watching these shows, minus the ones that have ended (4 Minutes, Happy of the End, I Hear the Sunspots, The On1y One, Seoul Blues, and The Trainee), and plus Bad Guy My Boss (Thailand), Jack & Joker (Thailand) and Love is a Poison (Japan).

On paper, I should devour Jack & Joker, crumbs and all. Also on paper, Bad Guy My Boss and Live in Love should only be an entertaining escape for me to turn off my brain.

I guess I'm in some weird kind of mood at the moment because it's the complete opposite. Jack & Joker is an entertaining escape, but I'm so deep into Bad Guy My Boss and Live in Love that Sunday has become my favorite day of the week (because I get both of them on Sundays).

I'm sure I'll get more into J&J when I get more Zorzo, though. I'm just surprised about my own chill reaction to it.

Anyway...

Other than those shows, I have to mention First Note of Love (Taiwan) which is amazing. I've got Charles Tu on my screen every week (which makes me suuuuper happy), Michael Chang is amazing, James and Liu Min Ting are amazing, Kaia Lee and Amanda Liu are even more amazing, and Mos and Bank have made cameos as themselves in two episodes. And I haven't even mentioned how great the music and the story is! (Btw, I've listened to the theme song about 100 times already.)

Then there's obviously I Saw You In My Dream (Thailand) and Monster Next Door (Thailand) as well. I would write posts upon posts about these if I had the time (which I don't).

Let me just say that I'm so happy I jumped into I Saw You In My Dream even though I started watching it for a ridiculous reason. The chemistry between the four boys is amazing as well. I definitely get the sense that these characters have known each other and been friends for years, and I love how that could develop into something more for them.

And Monster Next Door is making me love an introvert and an extrovert so much at the same time that the previous episode personally attacked me from several directions.

(Btw, I intentionally told myself to not go to this show's page on MDL because this world built for extroverts is waaay too harsh on the judgments of introverted characters. You won't find that bullshit here, though, I promise.)

As an 80%+ introvert (which I've been every time I've retaken the test in the past decade or so) who can pass off as an extrovert since I'm often around a lot of people (more often than I would like because it drains my energy), I love Diew soooo much. He's such a down-to-earth boy who knows his boundaries (a lot better than I do anyway, lol), and, yet, he agrees to go and play basketball with God and his friends because he wants to spend more time with his boyfriend. It's too bad that Dr. Asshole got to God first, though.

(Dr. Asshole should just focus on healing animals rather than interacting with humans, tbh, but, I digress...)

I just hope God realizes the story he's made up in his head about Diew and Dr. Asshole is just that, a story he's made up in his head. Their communication has been great so far and I'm sure they will solve it soon enough. That doesn't mean seeing God so sad and seeing how badly Diew was treated in the past (by his then-boyfriend, Dr. Asshole) hurt any less, though.

Anyway, that's all I have for now.

*signing off to throw paint at a new canvas because I can't wait until tomorrow...*

[callsigndreadfrost]

I said I was gonna talk about this so here I am, talking about it.

As of late I've been putting Angelus in a very different light. More confident, stronger (in every sense of the word), more outgoing and taking more charge and most notable not as depressive. If you've noticed (or not) since the beginning or better said the remaking of my blog I'd always tag Angelus in the most depressive posts I came across and anything depression related was instantly tagged under his tag. Any time I wrote him he was this ball of depression and anxiety but for a while now I've been changing it up especially in the AUs and they've been slowly bleeding into the Oracle version.

We're not gonna get into it here but that guy did not have an easy start to his life. He himself says his life started the second Jelani carried him out of that makeshift grave and with good reason. Lately though he's kind of changed, from being really meek and super quiet and unsure of himself to outgoing, loud and his depression has taken a backseat to the point where he even forgets it's a thing. Yeah, he has moments like with any life long illness but for the most part you can say he's beaten his demons down.

Like I said some time ago, this story I'm planning will have him meet a specific person that will add even more to his recovery. That person will actually help both him and Jelani with their internal turmoils (Angelus with being a Crossed Breed and Jelani with being the Arch-Maker).

I've never mentioned this but all werewolf breed names are kind of based on traits whether physical or something they've done.

Silver sights = their eyes glow silver and they have a bit of an ability to kind of hypnotize their prey for a few seconds (I never said any of it was clever ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭)

Mist walkers = have a bit of a passive ability to "conjure" mist and fog as a way to blen in during the hunt.

Howling ghosts = their howls can momentarily cause their prey to freeze in fear.

Stalkers = their name comes from their ability to move almost completely silently and really fast.

And then there's the Crossed breed...it was meant as an insult. You cross a Howling Ghost with a Stalker and you get a breed that's crossed. A mutt. A mongrel. A cur. You get the idea. Not a nice name but it stuck and Angelus had to live with it. Aleksey tried to squash the use of that name but even someone as influential as he couldn't stop it. At some point Angelus stopped caring and kinda did the whole "reclaim it" deal but when people wanna be hateful they will absolutely try their hardest.

In the story (I can type again lol) this person, a nature goddess, who also holds the moniker of "Mother of werewolves" isn't exactly thrilled about the name so she herself names his breed, she'd spread her influence and make it stick. She's an interesting individual, I should talk about her sometime. I've been sitting on this for weeks because I wanted something fitting and that I liked. Eventually I settled on Moonborne. So as soon as I finish said story I'll be changing the info everywhere to match the canon events tied to it. Tbh I myself am gonna start using Moonborne from now on outside of stories before this specific story.

Meeting and talking to said individual will affect both Angelus and Jelani positively and would eventually help Angelus further, at this point he was already overcoming his depression but meeting her would help further. Not to take away credit from him, you know, he struggled and was beat down but ultimately he was the one that managed to get himself out of the shit.

Honestly I just think it was high time I evolved him past the "depressed kid of the group" and let him come out of his shell. It also works to help me as well. There's a teensy tiny detail about Angelus that I have only mentioned once but it's why he is so very important to me and why he was the very first OC I made. Both he and I have grown and changed a lot since his inception when I was 14 and I think he deserves better. Both of us are still wounded and we may have our lows but yeah, I think he deserves his highs more than his lows.

Don't get me wrong he's still a lil ball of rage, fury and anger but just not as depressed lol.

[marinazone]

What's been bugging my brain recently

Boy oh boy where do I start. Well I suppose I'll start with a little bit of context. Hi! My name is Hunter (if you never knew my real moniker, not many do even if i tell them); and I have been in a disastrous...what could only be described as love illness, since February 28th. Before i explain why (if you dont already know) allow me to provide my full experience with love. When i was in 12th grade i was used as rebound for a girl named Nicole after her boyfriend had broken up with her. It was the first time i had ever gotten to feel love, the expectations of what i should expect were to be established from then forward. We talked a lot asked eachother how we were doing shared similar interests that kinda shit. It was cool, the sex was lukewarm at best but it felt nice to feel appreciated. Thats when her emotional manipulation began. She would be in low points that i attributed to depression. I always told her "go get help for your depression, itll only get worse" all of which she militantly ignored to the point where she told me she was being physically abused by her family. Naturally, stupid me, believed her and grew more and more attached and protective and i didnt find out til after we split up that she was full of horse shit. It was during this point that she would take opportunities when she was "moody" to punch me across the face. Why did i take that shit? I dont know! I guess i was too fucking scared to lose someone i was attached too. Two years passed and i realize she started to ditch me to hang with some dude named Paul and was cheating on me for months. I finally asked firmly if she was and she admitted it, playing sap. I was devestate for about three months afterward. I had planned to kill myself numerous times but always remembered how much my friends would miss me. It was during this time around 2013 that i took up a habit of walking a mile to a nearby bridge on a "private walk" over an artificial lake to just gaze into and get lost in what seemed like infinite thought. I eventually got over her, but only after deleting all contact with her.

Second is someone online i will just call Saber. A very basic ass relationship. No emotional fulfillment for me and only sexting. He was a bit different in abuse in that it was more a financial abuse than anything else. He relied on me to pay for his ffxiv game and subscription and shit cause he didnt live in NA and i didnt see a cent back. The separation was far more a fade then burning out. We just stopped talking and i stopped giving once i realized i was being used

And the third ex is actually criminally dangerous so i will avoid any details at all about them! Just know theyre in jail still i think and they dont know my address

So we arrive more recently, I dont want to use exact names as im still in contact with them and are (presumably) friends and i do not wish to expose information given in confidence. I will just be using first initials as follow: A, B, T, and W.

So it began with a message I'd received from B (all this was when i was freyacrescentshangover on here). He messaged me because we were into the same shit and asked if i wanted to rp. I figured sure! Why not! Well he was pretty chill and nice and i would eventually tell him i had a crush on him. He said "its cool we have similar fetishes but lets just stay friends for now ok?"

It didnt upset me to much. Then W entered my life and boy is she a treat (not sarcastic, mostly). She contacted me for much the same reason. We were into similar shit. We'd spend a lot of time back and forthing this stuff and getting to know eachother and then i finally told her i had a crush on her and her answer is something to keep in mind for later. She didnt say yes, but she didnt say no. She told me things such as ne being cute and how she enjoyed how we had similar kinks and said she'd be down to be more flirty sometimes. I had no fucking idea what this meant (No offense W) so I was more just in a state of confusion where our relationship was. As for why i admired her? She was passionate. Her interests were so emblazoned on her soul that is was visceral just being in a conversation (still is to an extent). Yet she's also so cool and mysterious. It felt like she was someone i had to learn about, someone that i could listen to their passions for hours in complete awe and admiration. Thats still what i admire about her to this day i suppose, but ill get onto that more in a bit.

This was also around the same time i had developed a crush on A. A is super cool and chill even to this day. Never afraid to be herself or says what she feels and that is truely admirable. She'd contacted me because, once again, we were into similar fetishes. We did the old exchange weird stuff and talk until i noticed she, by complete fucking cosmic coincidence, lived in the same town as me. You guessed it! Got a crush on her. This rejection breaks the mold a bit though in that she reciprocated the feelings but felt she was in to many relationships and couldnt provide me the emotional support i needed. Didnt bother me too much.

Well, that is until a couple months later A and her wife formed triad with W. It felt so.....bad if im being honest. I feel guilty to say it and i am really happy for them still! But there's always been a part of me since then that sorta felt......jealous? Short changed? I dont know, its hard to find a word for it. Its like when you taste something super fucking sour but you like expected it to be sweet. My self worth sorta plummeted from it all. Like i just wasnt enough for them..

Cut to later and i met T. Shes super sweet and funny and boy i got a crush on her too! She got into contact with me because......you guessed it! Similar fetishes! It feels like im just gifted with a power that lets people confide their weird fetishes with me. When i told her she told me essentially "Same fetishes dont like you that way".

Now we cut from 3 years ago to a month ago. I get feelings spurring up again for T and W (Probably A too but after how this goes I dont wanna be crushed ever again). I tell T first i have a crush on her. She says something similar to before but elaborates that romantic feelings are very hard for her to obtain. Then I tell W again. She says "We have similar fetishes and thats cool but i dont like you that way". For some fucking reason, this was an emotionally devastating breaking point for me and im not sure why. i got over T in like two days. W on the other hand? Were a month strong in and I still cant stop being depressed about it all. What happened here? What went different here? Was it because of the awkward response id receive years ago? Was it the jealousy-like feelings i still harbored? Is it just because i wanted to hear more about her and her interests and passions hidden under that cool (and sexy) exterior like i had before? I dont know. Probably never will. Likely a combination of all those though.

So here I am, on this weird precipice of loneliness, ready to die any second because my self worth doesnt seem to improve no matter what I do (and ive been doing a ton lately). Will I be able to work up the courage to take another final shot at A? Probably not, my body can't take another hit like that. Atleast not so soon. Will I ever get over W? Im not sure. The last time i felt this bad was with Nicole and I had to cut all contact with her to feel better, but the thought of doing that with W makes me even more sick. Maybe I'm just SOL and my emotional and mental stability doomsday clock is finally reaching midnight (sure hope not! I have Marinas to bully!).

Apart from all this, with how spurred i feel and such. I find it harder and harder to get out of bed every day. To do the things i like keeping myself healthy. Eating. Showering. To live. And yet I move.

[imzsuzsis-blog]

I hated myself all weekend. Even if I started from pole and the team praised me for it and I got a nice ring.

"I want to die here and now."

Sobbing, I looked at them and poured the champagne over to them.

"I'm serious. I fucked this up!!! get out of my life!!!"

"Lando, don't say that... It'll be better next time, believe me."

"It wasn't me jokingly saying I'm tired of the shit, that there's always someone faster than me. I hate the whole crap so I'll leave it here until next year."

"What will you become an actor instead?"

They started laughing at this and I brought the triple board to them with tears in my face.

“ My past is not funny!!!!! I was a child actor fuckers!!! I didn't do the whole thing for my own good, and it wasn't even my hobby, but it was my job to show my dad that I was independent..."

I took off my shoes and threw them among them, then I hurt them too, beating them wherever I could.

"Lando!!!! Stop now!!!”

“No, Oscar is a piece of shit!!!!"

I turned around and I also fucked Oscar so hard that his nose started to bleed.

I watched with full eyes. Lando announced the following: he was wearing make-up and his competition was shit. That's almost why I kicked his ass. This is bullshit. Ever since he turned the girls in, he's either a raging bull or constantly crying about it. His heart was racing, but his father intervened again. Again, he refuses to talk to each other about the matter, he thinks he's a dick for it.

"I've heard everything, Lando."

"Shut up Max! Shall I go for you tonight as well as for the team? dick." "You went for your team????"

"Yes, and?" You bastard.”

He turned around and kicked a pumpkin.

"What was that from you???"

"Don't have anything to do with it!!! I'm going to kill myself!!!! I wanted to be a parent and you didn't give me a boy/girl!!!! The one who just gives his daughters to strangers because his father is like that!!!"

Leaning against the wall, he turned his head and began to beat it with tearful eyes. Then he slowly lowered himself, stretched out one leg, held the other in front of him and buried his face in it and started crying again.

"You need a Psychologist, but urgently, my friend, or you really need a Psychiatrist... Clearly, like a depressed person, I say to the Gods of Mclaren and Gamer, Lando."

I sat down next to him, he buried him head in my shoulder and was still caressing him belly because he thought he was pregnant, even though the little ones were already out.

They said that we will get a bigger helicopter on the way home, and there will be a couple of us on it, but Lando is still angry with me and the team, I will be curious how much we will talk there. When we got out of the car, he came straight at me several times and pushed me away, so I ended up on the ground most of the time because of him. Before we got in, Nico took his palm off me and started to choke me, finally he kicked me on the knee in the waiting room and tore my hair and started slapping me, and Alex stopped him from getting rude.

"Lando, this hurts. Especially when you wanted to strangle me. Stop being so Autistic..."

"Am I autistic? Don't make me laugh anymore! Bullshit.”

"It's either ASD or the whole field already knows!!! Your mother told me, you bastard Lando... It's not a disease..."

He came to me and laid me on the ground and started hitting me wherever he could.

"Stop!!! Or call security, dude!!!”

"NO, I WILL STOP UNTIL I BEAT OSCAR AND WIN ANOTHER RACE AND BECOME WORLD CHAMPION!!!!!"

"Is this some kind of mania??? Fuck me???”

"Don't you fuck, or should I slap you in the face?"

"You don't have to and don't talk like that if I could ask you to."

"Who cares if that bastard Max Verstappen is driving and not me in this fucking championship."

He turned around and started grimacing sadly and he leaned against the wall, he got a bite, he started arguing with Loki on the phone, we didn't understand a word except when the date was and the idiot father's words, the rest didn't work for us.

[crimson-calligraphyx]

6: Burning Out

A/N: This chapter hints at alcoholism and depression. This is not factual about Noah.

Noah

It had been a few days since karaoke with the group, and I couldn't keep my mind off the way Liv smiled and laughed all night. Her smile had been so wide, dimples poking through at the top of her cheeks, making her eyes smaller and crease at the outer edges. It was such a relief seeing her happy—or happier I guess you could say—as opposed to the distressed state I've seen her in. I found myself really enjoying this side of Olivia and was looking forward to having her come hang out with me and the boys at some point again.

This morning I had decided to keep up with my fitness and go for a run before it got too hot out. I know that it wasn't much, but I packed on about 10 pounds in the last few months and I was proud of the way my body started to fill out. I had always been slim growing up, but when I hit rock bottom, I had become sickly skinny and was very insecure. It wasn't until Nicholas practically slapped me across the face and told me to get my shit together that I decided to take charge of my life again.

I started writing down the thoughts in my head instead of dwelling on them, dabbled in the guitar a bit and started to make music. When this lifted my spirits, I gained my hunger back and reclaimed my confidence, as little as it was. As that progressed, I started weight lifting here and there and kept up with cardio, and was super proud of myself when I started to see results.

I had been running for over half an hour, aimlessly trekking around the neighborhood. It was an ordinary suburban area, quiet this morning as most people were at their 9 to 5 jobs and kids in school. The sun was beginning to beat down a little warmer as the morning crept towards noon. I slowed my pace and took shelter under a tree for a moment, catching my breath and wiping my forehead and upper lip with the bottom of my shirt. Hearing the sound of an idling truck nearby, I glanced over in curiosity.

On the other side of the street sat a town pickup, a woman with a cap on, her dark hair pulled through the back of it. She had been hunched over, aggressively typing away on her phone. Never seeing Liv on the job before, I was feeling a bit nosey and decided to make my way over to her. "Hey you," I announce when I'm a few feet away from her open window. She looks up confused for a moment before a smile spreads across her face. "Oh, hi Noah. What are you doing here?" "Just out for a run, saw you parked over here and thought I'd say 'hi'." "Ah," she says with a slow nod, taking in my appearance. "Guess you're getting a good workout in, huh?" I look down at my shirt, soaked at the neckline and streaked at the bottom with my sweat. I let out a bashful chuckle, "Yeah, guess you could say that."

Her phone chimes in her hand, having her turn her attention back to it. She huffs, aggravated, and throws her head against the headrest with a groan. I cringe, hoping it wasn't anything too serious. "Sorry," she sighs and looks my way again. "I gotta go. These morons missed another trash stop and the woman whose house it is, is complaining about it." I gave her a sympathetic smile, "Gotcha. Duty calls." She puts the truck in gear, glancing at me briefly as if she was waiting for me to have something else to say. "Why don't you come by my place after you get out? You look a little..." I trailed off, shrugging. "Stressed?" She chuckles, "Yeah, you could say that." "Right," I say, tapping the top of the door. "Swing by, it'll be me and Nick Ruffilo. We'll order pizza and chill out." She gives me a forced smile. "Sure, thanks. I'll see you later."

I watched her drive away, noticing her face fall as she did so. I pursed my lips, concerned about the severity of her job—I hoped that it wasn't too much stress for her to handle. Sighing, I turned my focus back to my run and headed towards home.

-

Around 8 this evening, Liv finally arrives at my place, just as Nick was becoming impatient about what pizza to order. When I opened the door, she gives me an apologetic smile, accompanied by a small wave. I grin back at her, pulling her into a quick hug to tell her that it was alright she showed up a little late. She had just showered, her hair still damp and smelling of coconut. "Glad you could make it," I say as I break away from her. She sighs with relief, "Thanks for having me over." When I caught her breath, I noticed that it smelled heavily of alcohol. My stomach drops, concerned that she had already been drinking before making her way over. "Of course," I grin, waving my arm in a grand fashion to invite her in.

"Hey, Ruffles," Olivia greets Nick as she plops down next to him. He laughs at the new nickname he acquired from her, giving her a sideways hug on the couch. "Ruffles?" She shrugs with a playful smirk on her lips. "It gets confusing between you and Folio, and Nicholas sounds too formal." Nick ponders her statement, nodding with approval. I chuckle, shaking my head as I made my way towards them, a freshly opened beer in hand for Olivia. She takes it with a 'thank you', and settles into the couch after drinking about half of it in one gulp. Nick and I exchange a wary glance—he must've smelled the alcohol on her, too.

I pick up the menu that sat on the coffee table and open it up, "So what kind of pizza do y'all want?" "Hawaiian," Nick immediately blurts out. Liv gags, "Pineapple on pizza is a goddamn blasphemy." I rub the back of my head, and turn away, avoiding the conflict that was about to erupt. He gets way into the whole pineapple-on-pizza-is-superior thing and I wanted no part of it. They bickered for a minute or two before I butted in, telling them we'll order one that was half Hawaiian, half pepperoni and one just cheese, hoping they'd shut up. Thankfully, they agreed, and we called it in right away.

-

Olivia

"Wait, wait, wait," Noah says in between laughs, holding his hands out to pause the conversation. "So, your last name is Foster? Like Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends?" Influenced by the shots of vodka and countless beers that was flowing through my veins, I couldn't stop myself from giggling at Noah's reaction to the discovery of my last name. "Yes, exactly!" Both of them started laughing. "We loved that show growing up," Ruffles announces, followed by a gasp. He frantically grabs the remote control, turning on Netflix and browsing to find the cartoon.

We watched the show for a long while, continuing to drink and indulge in the pizza in front of us. The pure joy that I felt seeing both of them with huge smiles plastered on their faces was impeccable. It mirrored the way that I wanted to feel everyday, and I smiled to myself sadly, wishing that were the case. Lately, I've been apprehensive about going to work to deal with the bullshit, but I knew I had a job to do, so I swallowed the dread and forced myself in everyday. On top of that, my dad's health was declining rapidly. I knew that I was burning out, but the thing that kept me going was knowing I could come home and reward myself to a bottle to suppress the feelings.

Feeling my eyes starting to get heavy as I watched the TV, I decided that it was time for me to go home before I fell asleep here. I stood and stretched, finishing off my last beer for the night. "It's getting to be that time," I say, catching their attention. "I'm exhausted." Noah sits up a little higher, looking my way. "Are you okay to drive home?" I nod. "You sure you don't want to stay the night?" I wave him off, "I'll be fine, promise." He purses his lips at me, not buying my statement. I couldn't bear to look at the disappointment in his eyes and headed out the door.

Making my way down the walkway, I hear the door open and click shut, turning to see Noah on his way out. He catches up to me and spins me around, planting his hands on my shoulders. His eyes trailed over my face, silently screaming concern. I close my eyes, turning my head away from him so I didn't have to see the crestfallen expression on his face. "Oliva," his velvety voice finally breaks the silence. "You don't have to look at me, but please promise me that you'll make it home alright." I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I nodded. "And please know that you can always talk to me about anything. I'm here to listen." I mustered the courage to look up at him, cracking when I see the worry etched into his face. "I'm okay," I croaked, my throat suddenly burning. He shakes his head at me. "I know you're not, but I'm not here to beat it out of you. When you're ready, I'll be here." He pulls me into a tight embrace when I let out a cry, knowing that he sees right through me. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and I wasn't sure if I was crying with relief or shame that he could sense it.

When I got home later in the night, I had a text from Noah. Noah: tomorrow. you, me, breakfast. my treat.

-

When Noah and I sat down in our booth at a local diner, I couldn't help the smile forming on my mouth; the slight uptilt of his lips making me feel welcome. He still seemed rather fatigued, his eyelids looking heavier than they normally do. I wasn't sure why he decided to take me out to breakfast if he had been so tired, but I wasn't complaining—I fucking love breakfast.

"Thanks for taking me out to breakfast," I say after taking an unsteady sip of my coffee, "what's the reason?" He shrugs politely, flashing a small smile. "Just felt like getting out, thought maybe you'd like to join, is all." "Well, thank you," I say, noting that his eyes were staring directly at my shaking hands. "You still seem like you wanted a few more hours of sleep," I mused, moving my hands to my lap. He trails his eyes back to mine. "Sure, who doesn't want more sleep?" He chuckles, "But what's the use of sleeping all day?" I mentally laugh; if I could, I would sleep my entire life away at this point.

I go for another sip of my coffee, this time having it dribble over the side of the mug some. Noah and I catch each other's eye—I could feel my heart jump into my throat with anxiety. "Liv," he says softly, concern laced in his voice. I put the coffee down and threw my hands in my lap again, trying to swallow my heart back to where it belonged. It was pounding, anticipating him calling me out. "I'm fine Noah, I'm a little unsteady in the morning until my brain finally wakes up," I force a chuckle. He shakes his head at me, his hair swaying from behind his shoulders, framing his face. "I know I said I wouldn't beat it out of you, but I'm starting to worry about you." Feeling my cheeks warm up with embarrassment, I advert my gaze to my trembling hands in my lap to avoid his stare. "Nick and I both knew you had been drinking before you came over last night. He got mad at me when I let you drive home, knowing you were way too drunk," he sighs harshly, banging his elbow on the table.

I look up, his forehead was in the palm of his hand, most likely in frustration. "I tossed and turned all night, worried if you were gonna make it home safely." I feel my stomach churn with guilt. "I know what the shakes from alcohol withdrawal looks like, Olivia." "W-was it that obvious?" I say under my breath, my eyes welling up with tears. He takes his head away from his hand to look at me. "Maybe not to the average Joe," he says softly, "but I can tell when your smile doesn't reach your eyes." My lips tremble as I try to force a smile, proving his point. I blinked, the tears rolling down my cheeks while I shook my head in shame. "I'm sorry. I'm just so scared, Noah," I whisper. "My dad is getting worse. I can't stop thinking about him dying and what I'm gonna do when he finally passes—it plagues me while I'm at work. That's why I looked so stressed yesterday. Drinking is the only thing that calms my nerves."

He reaches his right hand out across the table, nodding towards it. I place a trembling hand in his as he gives me a firm squeeze, "I've been there. I promise I'll help you through it, if you let me." I felt my heart swell at his words, the anxiety starting to whittle away as I gazed into his shimmering eyes. I take a deep breath and nod, focusing my eyes on my hand in his.

I pull my brows together as I scrutinize the ink on his hand. There was something peculiar about it, something I hadn't noticed the first time I shook his hand. There was a small patch that trailed into his wrist that was different from everything else, causing my breath to get caught in my throat. It was real, afterall.

I was beginning to see color.

|Chapter 7|

[meowsod]

hey guys do u wanna hear me yapping about how i think angel care and last journey by iyowa fits how i feel ab jacket's mourning after he lost beard and gf? no.?????? ok idc ure still hearing me out!!!!

all the translations referenced!!

last journey / ラストジャーニー [tl source]

angel care / エンゼルケア [tl source]

both translations are by Spicy Sweets!! go check out their blog here :]

og songs if u want to listen to them!!!

last journey / ラストジャーニー [this could make u motion sick, be wary of that!!! take care!!!]

angel care / エンゼルケア

so, for context, last journey is about someone losing their partner / close friend / loved one / whatever else, either due to suicide or something else. and angel care is basically the aftermath, hence the lyrics referencing last journey!!

"I thought I'd stop by to see you. While tripping on the smoke of our burning love" y'know how from chapter 3 (decadence) onward you see girlfriend in your house, just hanging around, right? i like to think this line kinda parallels that, jacket coming back home to see her again, because no matter what he still probably worried about her and wanted to see if she's okay. especially after what the snuff film producer put her through.

"When the dead body started talking, it devoured what little daily life I had" the missions he was sent on by 50B. what else do i say!!!

"I made it here because I had halfway expectations" also somewhat relating to both 50B and girlfriend, expecting either a house full of russians to beat down on or his beloved girl waiting for him.

"Your phone died, and you didn't have friends you could go to, so I was worried." beard talking about how there's something going on outside the shop he works at in san francisco, then walking out after hanging up and getting fucking CLAPPED by the nuke.

"I'll get a bit of rest in this freezing, rust-colored world." how jacket felt after losing the one friend he trusted the most, probably being sleepless for like days on end because of how much it fucked him up - or oversleeping, i mean... that's just depression and grieving for u

"Our little home was blown away, but I made it here because I wanted an unraveled love" again, san francisco getting blasted and jacket wishing he could've saved beard somehow, even if that's not possible.

"I clung onto a dream that wouldn't ever comfort me on our last journey" that part in hlm1 where suddenly jacket sees the world for how it is, the shopkeeper no longer being beard but some bald guy. hence the "dream that wouldn't ever comfort me" part, but that's just me probably looking a little too much into it ^_^"

what do i say!!!!! that part in the game where gf gets shot and wasn't able to be saved :[

now here's angel care!!!!!!

"I made it here because I have only one regret" him regretting that he didn't save beard or gf in time. i mean, he couldn't do jack shit but he surely wishes he could.

"My favorite books are all boring now. Those changes rose to the surface along with my beloved" the monotony of life in jail after he shot the grandfather point blank, and then maybe the memory of beard and gf's moments with him surfacing. god. ok this is making me sad why did i do this to myself

"No matter how many times I'm reborn, I can never atone." more of a meta thing, though also you brought it upon yourself by killing mobsters and basically leading to the world pretty much blowing up.

"I'm sorry for not saving you, I'm sorry for looking away" i explained this like 95954954 times u get it by now

"I savored the loneliness that lingered among my dulled senses. Ahh, if I pretend that I'm burdened by fate, then it'll be fine if I say it'd all for your sake, right?" wanting everything to turn out okay, maybe downplaying how he feels as he thinks it's stupid. i'm looking into it too much god help. idek how to word it at this point

again, the san francisco incident and that part in / before trauma

the "I'm sorry" lines are self explainatory, the "as we're reduced to ashes" is the nuke!!!

"Ahh, the world's ending, I loved you" the end of wrong number, it all makes sense.

"Your long journey is over now." both to the player and everyone else, you've done all you did and caused it.

ty for reading my unhinged rant and stream of conscience!!!

[vvatchword]

I nearly forgot to post my monthly for August. August has been just... oh jesus. something else. Here. Take this ugly first draft thing. I don't like it very much right now, but it exists, and that's more than I could say before.

Technically, I've been in crunch for the last three months. This has not stopped me from writing. There's a post going around right now by a... I don't know who they are? A public speaker?... who shares a little story about Van Gogh, with the moral of the story being "Art is in spite of suffering and not because of it." And although I think that can absolutely be true--that you don't need to suffer to produce good art--it certainly ain't true of me. I need to be in pain. I need to be angry. At the very least, I need to be confused. And in each of these states, I need to be curious about why that is. Suffering is very often meaningless, but it's also nice to build a framework for comprehending it.

If you can't have a plot without fictional suffering...

August is too many words again, although this time at least 20,000 words came from only two days. Early in the month, I had a deep desire for Good Endings, and wrote a few for myself. Very doubtful any of them will make it into public, but they were very good for me, thanks.

The real reason I haven't been able to finish this story, despite its absurd size, is that I was fixed firmly on Johnny Topside and only Johnny Topside. Every now and then I'd get a brain bug and work on Dr. Lamb--but even then, that was somewhat grudgingly. I'm now at the point that any kind of work on Topside relies almost entirely on what happens to Dr. Lamb and how she influences her followers.

And so, with a great grumble, I finally started working solely on Dr. Lamb and Lackeys sections.

Stanley Poole is absurdly fun to write--if I can get this done, you'll see why. I ended up stumbling into a facet of him that was weirdly personal. Unfortunately, I wrote as far as I could on his storyline; I now require the other three generals, because ideally all five of these characters rub off on one another and help illustrate and build up Lamb herself. I've got Grace down, I've got Gilbert... the only real problem now is Wales, the Biggest Nothing Ever. There is no reason for him to be Nothing except that I know nothing about architects, architecture of the period, or the place Wales came from. The only things I understand about him are Objectivism, Puritanical Belief Systems, Art, Perfectionism, the Sting of Failure, Depression, On the Outside Looking In Because U Just Got Punted into an Alley for Being Shit, and the Lure of the Metaphysical. You will note these are very imprecise and say little, really. I need to know about his childhood. I need to know about where and when he grew up. I need some colours out of earth.

One thing I'm very curious about is how this writing hyperfocus--which, if I can get to November, will have lasted an ENTIRE FUCKING YEAR, fucking unhinged and completely unlike anything I've ever experienced before--will affect Future Me. A winter is coming for me, whether I like it or not, and I'll definitely need it, but... I wonder if I can carry any of this knowledge and capability into future projects.

So much of this was fueled by passion. It's arguable it was nothing but passion. It's me taking my lumps and then translating them into prose as fast as life gives them to me. But I'm also impressed by the pieces of the work that I just worked on because they needed to be there and for no other reason. I'm impressed by the work I did out of duty years ago that still holds up, and the work I did on the bus while someone was screaming slurs. Art that exists is always better than the art that seems perfect in your head--at least it's out now, at least it's saying something, even if that something is imperfect. You can't fix what doesn't exist.

I'm also impressed by how I now know instantly what kinds of sections are necessary and in what orders, up to how many chapters are necessary to express the points that need to be impressed, with the only question marks being how to illustrate those points best. The next step will be to see if I have gotten too rote and see if I can't break out of those habits--maybe look up some alternate styles and writers and try to copy them. Just for challenge's sake, you know. I often find favorite phrases and methods and overuse them.

You might be asking at this point: "Wait! What about the BioShock Infinite stuff?" And I reply: this is about August and I only started writing BSI stuff in September. And also, I realized (very grudgingly) that I need to read a LOT more books before I can really start work, then play/watch BSI again. Napciyunka shared some headcanons with me and I played with them and then I realized he was like Oh Jesus don't take all my headcanons and I was like OH yeah that would be awkward and rude wouldn't it

...wait a stinking minute. Look at my story statistics. There is no reading time. I broke it rofllll

[idolapollo]

Dedicated DEV LOG #2

i'm a month late ( ´･ω･)

at least finals are over for now!!!

please don't be disappointed i tried my best to manage stress, seasonal depression, and self-doubt while writing over the past two months ( T∀T)

once again, this month's blog post is decicated to "Dedicated To…"

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man, fall quarter always sucks, and i hate when it gets so dark out so quick!!! how are you supposed to expect apollo to function without much sun!!!!!! ヽ(　`Д´)ﾉ

well, i hope everyone's been okay! i've been trying to be as mentally stable as possible… and it's kind of working! even with seasonal depression, therapy has been helping teach me how to calm myself and live to tomorrow! i did get some anxiety medication a short bit after my last dev log too, and it's been going great for me!! ( ´∀｀ )b

lately, i've been looking at other games and media and wondering what makes psychological horror so good, and what even is it? turns out no one has a set answer and it's hard to describe (´･ω･｀)

looking at the reception of mouthwashing (which i really enjoyed!!), i'm starting to get my own doubts on how scary my game really is and if i'm doing things right enough…

i started to rewrite and add stuff to the first route when i thought i was finished and going to move onto the second route….. i even made the first route much longer as a result, and now the other routes need to match up... ( T∀T)

i ended up putting in more abstract representations and symbolism of mental struggles and fears, similar to how pocket mirror does things! i also especially added more bits where you can actually play the game, as how i currently had it, the game was more of a visual novel with rpg elements and made in rpg maker instead of ren'py lmao

compared to the original script i had, i felt the game's script was set too much in realism and didn't come off as scary, especially thinking about how rpgs themselves aren't really scary since you're not playing in a 1st-person view, therefore you're not that scared because the scary stuff is happening to a 3rd party and takes you out of the immersion

it's a lot more work than i thought trying to make things scary.... you really have to look into human instinct and nature, not to sound too pragmatic ( ´_ゝ`)

before i rant a bit more, here's a preview of reyn's full art, the one tybalt is hopelessly in love with!! feel free to stop reading at this point if you think i'm annoying as shit don't worry i feel the same

i hope i made him look cute AND cool enough! i made him to my tastes after all lol

speaking of which, i hope my feelings—ugly, pitiful, relatable however they may be—get across in this game, i have a lot of anxieties around love, be it familial, platonic, or romantic, and i've always felt lonely, ignored, and out of place a lot of the time

suffice to say, i am projecting on tybalt a lot lol

honestly, i wonder if anyone even reads these, or if anyone cares at all, but i hope someone out there does

as i said in a depressing tweet, my works and stories and i may be worthless, but i like them and they get me wanting to live another day!

i hope by the next update either in the next month or two, i'll have at least two routes finished!

i'm sorry i can't show more than this, but i swear i'm putting my all into this!! especially since i want to work on a comic soon too!

i'll leave everyone with a scrapped doodle i had that i was initially going to include with an update i was gonna post before halloween, but you already know what happened (´･ω･｀)

thank you once again for following me and my stupid, worthless works! (^_^)v (and if you're interested in who exactly these characters i keep posting are, if anyone's interested i have a whole story!! but basically they're all me in a sense!)