#and it's so old the info did not survive the times

[vice-like]

yk i dont think midorikawa has ever been this obvious with her hints so it might be a red herring, but this chapter being bf portrait of a girl arc makes me think about the possiblity that the "reiko" portrait was at the hakozaki house

[cosmicrot]

I keep thinking about the fact I'll be able to do my consult finally for top surgery [or well more akin to a radical reduction] and i've been reading tons of stuff and looking for photos for reference and god

so many posts like "unexplained back pain and severe headaches magically gone after top surgery/reduction" and i'm like GOD I can't wait for that to be me

but i.. i might not even be able to get the surgery because my parents aren't supportive and i'm disabled... so I'm going to have to somehow magically get the money for a hotel for 2 weeks until I get my drains out, so my friend from out of state can take care of me in the hotel :')) I still am desperately trying to save up for braces and am only half way there it turns out [we love being bad at math! I thought I was like 3/4th the way there if not slightly more] so it just... seems less and less likely that it'll ever happen.

[hemlock-dreams]

Not me absolutely frothing at the mouth about this AU. Can we get an info dump on the Lore? It's making me want to abandon my current Spideypool WIP for this. Absolutely terminal brainrot for this boy

BEHOLD: MASSIVE LORE DUMP!

Peter B. Parker is a young troublemaker who has a problem with authority. He also has a knack for picking tech apart and putting it back together, which puts him on the radar for a small-time gang that needs someone to act as their alarm system breaker for a big score.

Unfortunately, said score had bad intel and what was supposed to be a simple robbery turns out to be manslaughter when the resulting fire that was supposed to cover up their tracks ends up killing two guards.

Peter is tried as an adult with the rest of the gang and sentenced to Rykers for 5 years.

Check out the full page HERE.

At Rykers, Peter meets Marko Flint, who takes Peter under his wing. and teaches him how to survive and thrive when wearing the orange.

Life goes on for 5 years. He learns the trade, gets some tats, learns how to make some great shivs, and becomes a better criminal all around. Yay prison!

Peter gets out at 21, and reunites with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He does his best to clean up his act, but normal life is hard for someone who spent their formative years in prison.

(He also makes questionable hair and fashion choices. What can I say, he's catching up!)

He goes from job to job, trying to pay back his aunt and uncle for all their support but is completely unequipped for the 'real world.' After a few months working/getting fired from soul-crushing menial jobs (HS dropout!), he agrees to take 'one last job' with Marko that is 'guaranteed to set them up for life'.

*cough*

This robbery goes off without a hitch! No one is hurt and they make off after hitting a heavily armored Oscorp Transport with a ton of documents/tech that they aim to sell to the highest bidder.

The biggest mystery is that one glowing vial of untested, experimental serum they found...

Unfortunately, Oscorp doesn't take robbery lightly. Marko finds out through contacts that the serum (whatever it is) is too hot to sell on the market, so he instructs Peter to get rid of it so it can't be traced back to them.

Peter, a rational 22-year-old ex-con, 'gets rid of it' by mixing the serum into ink and tattooing it onto his wrist, triggering the start of his mutations.

It takes a bit, but Peter get's all the regular spiderman benefits (webs are organic), plus one more. The serum was created from the venom of the Portia Spider, a hunting/jumping spider known to be uniquely intelligent among arachnids.

Alongside the speed/strength/spideysense, Peter also grows some fangs that secrete a powerful venom.

The venom speeds up the body's processes, working almost like an insane performance booster and enhancing an injected person's strength, speed, and senses for a few hours.

Unfortunately, repeated doses also eventually induce shock, paralysis, and, later, death.

He gives a few samples of it to Marko as an exit fee.

Uncle Ben was suspicious of how Peter suddenly got so much money, but took him on good faith. But, while he was watching the news that covered the Oscorp robbery, connected the dots and had a blowout fight with Peter that ended with him having a cardiac event.

Unfortunately, he did not survive.

Aunt May and Peter were estranged over this for several years.

This event crushes Peter, sobering him up immediately. He goes back and gets his HS diploma, and works on night courses in college.

However, he spends much of his days wandering, angry at himself and what he did. He beats up a mugger one day and realizes that he could be using his powers to back up the faith Ben had in him.

Spiderman is born!

Eventually, he and Aunt May reunite, and their relationship is slowly healing.

A few years later, Peter is on the up. He and Aunt May are close again! He's got a bachelor's in computer science, has a (semi) steady job, and is well-liked as Spiderman by the populace at large. His rogue's gallery is roguing- etc.

Unfortunately, a variant of his venom (developed by Kingpin) hits the streets as a drug. It's favored by both criminals for its performance-enhancing strength, as well as civilians, for the time-slowing sensation/high it gives them.

His girlfriend, Mary Jane, who has been sober for a few years, relapses. Peter, knowing that he can't stop her from getting it on her own, reveals his identity and becomes her main source.

At least, this way, he can control the dosage.

Marko (who sold Peter's venom to Kingpin) manages to fire off his only two brain cells and realizes that Spiderman IS Peter Parker.

Then he outs him to the world because Spiderman made it personal.

Peter's life catches on fire. The entire world is after him. His loved ones have to go into hiding because there's no shortage of criminals and psychopaths who want to get their hands on MJ and Aunt May to get to Spiderman.

Peter ceases to exist. It's not safe anymore. He spends days (weeks? months?) in the suit. Eventually, on the run and burnt out, he pleads his case to Dr. Strange in desperation. (Ala No Way Home)

"Everyone deserves a clean start."

Dr. Strange agrees, but the spell can't work with Peter still existing as part of the equation. So it fires him off into a reality where Peter B. Parker, and by extension Spiderman, never existed.

So how's an ex-con/ex-superhero (for now) supposed to carve a space in a world that never knew him? By finding somewhere that doesn't ask any questions.

And it just so happens, that St. Margaret's School for Wayward Children has a reputation for both being a bar of questionable repute and looking the other way.

Might as well start there.

~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for this lovely, lovely ask! I hope this massive lore dump wasn't overkill, but I'm having a lot of fun with this world and wanted to share.

And I offer this lore dump ONLY on the condition that you do not drop whatever you're working on. There is always space for more spideypool in the world, don't deprive us!!!

[canisalbus]

Hi! A little life update.

At the end of October I wrote that I was deep in a depression spiral and due to unexpected occurrences I had been left with basically no income for several months. I had emptied my savings at that point and was feeling extremely stressed, sick and hopeless.

I just want to thank everyone who reached out and offered support or even looked up my ko-fi info and sent me a donation. It was an unfathomably kind thing to do and helped me tremendously. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was at the end of my tether, I had 1,70€ in my bank account at that moment. I was sleeping four hours per night on average because my insomnia was so out of control, and had more or less stopped eating, after surviving on nothing but porridge, bread, apples and buttered pasta for close to a month. Things were kind of dire. No one has ever showed me that kind of unprompted generosity before, irl or online. Thinking that people I've never even met were willing to support me like that both warms my heart and makes me feel kind of guilty and undeserving. I'm not used to being treated like that. I hope I didn't make you feel pressured to get involved. It did genuinely help me put myself back together though. The next day I went and bought some essential groceries and getting to eat properly was a massive boost in terms of energy and mood. I'm doing a little better now. I finally managed to get the financial situation corrected, but it'll take months before my finances recover and I'll be able to go shopping without feeling paranoid about counting every cent and hating myself if I buy a small treat. I mentioned that my seven years old, well-served laptop is on it's last legs, so the remaining funds are going towards putting together a new PC, hopefully soon. I don't really have any product or extra content to offer you as a thank you for the ko-fi donations I received, but I hope it's at least nice to think that they're directly enabling me to continue making more art in the future.

I'm still struggling with intense anxiety every day, and it has caused me to develope some kind of impostor syndrome that is impacting my online presence negatively at the moment. I look at the things I try to draw and the asks I get, and feel like nothing I create, say or write is good enough or worth people's time and attention. I'm having hard time opening up like I used to, and I miss the interactions I used to have here, they were an immense source of inspiration and motivation to me. But I'm trying to work on that, and hoping that posting stuff will start to feel more natural again eventually. This got a little long, but thanks for reading! I hope life treats you well.

[73-advocate]

‼️🛑 Don’t ignore this. Please help my autistic child live a normal life and help my family survive death. Hello, I am Doaa from Gaza 🍉. I apologize for what I'm about to ask. I have a heavy and tired heart. Unfortunately, the situation became difficult after I left Gaza, and I did not receive any assistance to treat my child and help us live except through you and your donations. . A donation of just $20 from each person, $20 will save my child and my family in Gaza. $20 equals 220 Swedish krona. I lost my home, my workplace, everything, and I don’t know whether or not I will bear all this responsibility outside Gaza to help my child and my family, but I know that your help will contribute to saving my child and my family. Sorry about all this.

HELP DOOA AND HER SON

please, only a minute of your time.

Dooa is a grieving and tired Palestinian mother taking care of her son, Omar, who is non-verbal and only 5 years old. They have escaped Gaza and now are residing in Egypt, but the rest of her family are left in Gaza.

Before the genocide, she used to run an embroidery business, she is restarting it again to raise funds for the rest of her family’s escape and for the safety of her child and herself. She was able to buy a sewing machine with the funds she’d raised, now we just need a little more so that she could reunite with her family and give her son a proper education.

I can only imagine how difficult it is to run a business alone and managing an autistic child. Please lend your support and donate atleast 40 dollars, that much is enough.

more info is on @dodoomar12345’s pinned posts and reblogs. take note that this is a verified campaign.

and please, go to my blog to reblog gofundmes that aid in the relief of gaza victims and donate there.

[roanofarcc]

CHASE IT

pairing. javi rivera x reader

summary. Javi has a problem telling you how he feels until he almost loses you. 

warnings. angst with a happy ending! slightly inaccurate meteorological info, a curse word or two, descriptions of injuries, reader gets hurt, love confessions! movie scenes will not be shot-for-shot but as close as I can remember.

word count. 2.5k || masterlist

The car ride to El Reno was tense. A tornado was hurling toward a town full of people and Javi had made the decision to follow Kate, Tyler, and the rest of the wranglers to help instead of staying with Storm Par. And as much as you wanted to tell him it was the right choice, you were too stubborn to. It wasn’t because you didn’t agree; you did. You’d been skeptical of the business since you started working for them but you tried, time and time again, to convince yourself that they were helping people. It wasn’t until seeing Kate’s reaction that you snapped back to reality. 

You didn’t say anything to Javi because you were still upset with him. The night before you two had gotten into an argument bigger than you ever had. You’d come to the end of your line. For the past couple of years, you’d been stuck in a confusing limbo with him. One minute you were making out in bars and staying up until the early hours of the morning talking, and the next he treated you like a co-worker. He was up and down, hot and cold. You had no idea where you stood, and you had gotten so tired of waiting around for him to finally commit. You started to think he never would. 

But heaven forbid you get flirted with by a good-looking stranger at the diner you’d all stopped at for dinner. Javi refused to make a move and he tipped-toed around an answer when you asked him what the two of you were doing. But he didn’t like someone else making the move he wouldn’t do. It wasn’t fair. All you wanted to was to know how he felt, but he couldn’t seem to give you that. So, you two argued, hot and angry. You still felt the thick tension cloud the car, with the added anxiety of the people directly in the storm’s path. 

You both stayed silent the whole ride, not speaking until you arrived in a town that was alive with sirens and dangerous winds. You had spotted Kate, and Javi was quick to throw the truck into park. You both rushed out, only to find a frantic Kate trying to lift a heavy piece of debris that trapped Tyler’s foot. Javi grabbed the closest thing he could find, stuck it under the piece of debris and you all lifted it enough for Tyler to yank his foot free. He didn’t look too badly injured, or maybe his body was pumping enough adrenaline to keep him upright. 

“We’ve gotta find shelter!” Kate yelled above the whirling winds. The nearest building that people rushed into was an old-looking movie theater down the road. There didn’t look to be many obvious safe places in the dated downtown, but the storm was moving fast, and staying outside only worsened their chance of survival. 

None of you had a chance to take off anywhere before a horrible creaking sound echoed above the wind. You spun around just as the town’s water tower started to make its way to the ground. A string of curses left your lips, tumbling out of your mouth as the water tower crashed to the Earth, releasing the water in a rush. You tried to run, but the water mixed with the flying debris swept all of you up before you could get far. 

The current pulled you harshly before it slammed your body against the front of a building. Pain brushed up your side as you groaned, soaked head to toe from the mixture of rain and rushing water that depleted as it continued down the street.

You coughed, feeling like you were still moving. Everything spun around you, whipping around as you sat on the ground trying to grasp your bearings. It wasn’t until Kate appeared at your side and pulled you to your feet did you rip yourself from your daze. There was no time to think about anything other than getting everyone to safety. The sky was turning darker by the minute and the town had already erupted in chaos. 

In your wet clothes, you took off after the group, following the mass of people into the movie theater. 

The place had no basement, only scared people confused storm chasers. You were suddenly filled with hopelessness, cold and daunting that crept into your gut. It was bad, really bad, and growing worse by the minute. If the tornado hit the theater, there was a good chance not everyone would make it out alive. 

You had no idea what to do, but you saw something flicker in Kate’s eyes, something the boys had missed as they watched the storm out of one of the exits, trying to come up with a plan for all of the people inside. She took off running towards the other exit, and you followed her. 

You had only just met Kate, but Javi had told you a lot about her from their college days. He trusted her, and from what you’d seen that week so far, so did you. Maybe it was a reckless move, following an almost stranger outside in the middle of a tornado, but you weren’t thinking rationally, only with the mindset that something had to be done and Kate seemed to know what that was. 

It wasn’t until she reached Tyler’s truck that you caught her, grabbing her arm before she swung open the door. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, breathlessly. “Please, don’t try to stop me.” 

You glanced at the incoming storm, the ominous clouds that held so much destruction within its black, swirling form. “I'm going with you.” 

She looked like she wanted to ask why, but there was no time. Instead, she nodded and quickly got into the truck as you followed, hopping into the passenger seat. 

Javi had told you of Kate’s original study in school; she wanted to stop a tornado. And it looked like she was going to put it to the test again. She raced through a field, hitting every bump, causing your head to nearly hit the roof of the truck each time. 

You had been close to a tornado, closer than most people willingly got, but you’d never been inside of one. Nor had you seen a storm quite like that one. The tornado was massive, a wall of sheer force that knocked into the truck with everything it had, knocking the wind right out of you. 

Kate was too determined to be paralyzed by the swirling darkness that surrounded you. She slammed down on the buttons on the center console, but nothing was happening. 

“It’s not working,” she cried, trying again and again as her panic swelled. You shuttered, hardly hearing her above the roar of the wind. The truck rocked, unsteady, and you weren’t sure how much force it would be able to take. The size of that tornado wasn't like the kind the Wranglers drove into. 

You glanced out the rearview window at the barrels on the trailer that were supposed to release their contents, but the lids remained on. Kate gripped the steering wheel hard as the wind beat against the doors, shaking the truck worse and worse by the second. Her hands shook too, trembling as the tornado continued to engulf you, threatening to chew you two right up and spit you out like it was nothing. 

You repeated Kate’s actions with the buttons, hitting them with a silent prayer again and again until finally, the lids all popped open, and their contents were sucked up into the storm. 

Both of your relief was short-lived as the storm overpowered the rig. The world blurred before your eyes as the truck was flipped. The passenger side window was shattered as you landed upside down; shards of glass sliced through the skin on your face, but the pain wasn’t felt right away. The only thing you felt was the intense drumming of your heart that beat against your ribs. 

You’d felt panic before in a storm, a small drop compared to what you felt at that moment. It was hard to breathe with the world seemingly closing in around you. You didn’t want to die, not like that. But it felt inevitable at that moment. The blood rushing to your head, the shattered glass peppering your skin, and the scream of the twister directly over top of you. 

Your mind was on fire, but you tried to find an anchor, something to hold your panic still enough to think straight. Javi came to mind subconsciously. You saw him, his sweet smile and dark eyes. The argument you had was far from your mind. Instead, all you saw was the good stuff. Sneaking out of your motel rooms to watch the stars on clear nights during chases. Him laughing at your jokes no matter how terrible. The way he had memorized your drink order and insisted on buying you them at every bar. Despite his inability to just tell you how he felt, Javi had always been the person you were drawn back to. And you didn’t see that stopping. Maybe it would hurt in the long run, and maybe it was just wishful thinking that he wanted anything deeper than what you had. But he was so intertwined in your life. He was the only person you wanted to share things with, the first person who you had cared about so intimately.  

You loved him, you realized. You had pretty shit timing. 

Or maybe not. 

A hand grasped your arm, sending a wave of pain through your shoulder. You gasped, peeling open your eyes you hadn’t even realized were closed. Turning your head, you saw Kate’s glossy eyes staring back at you, wide but focused. She held her hand hovering over your arm; it was red, and you weren't sure if it was her blood or yours. 

“We did it,” she whispered, and you realized you could hear her, easily. The roar of the wind was gone. The storm was just…gone. A smile broke out on her lips as she repeated," We did it!” 

There was a nasty cut on her face, blood running down the side of it. Your hands fumbled for your seatbelt and harness, undoing them quickly and trying to maneuver your body so you didn’t land on your head in the overturned truck. 

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here,” you breathed out. Kate followed your actions. Shards of glass cut up your hands as you crawled out of the busted window, slowly and pained. You clawed at the mud, never having felt so grateful for the feeling of the earth under your fingers. 

You only managed to get your upper half out of the truck before someone grabbed your arms. Looking up, you met Javi’s panicked gaze. He held onto your arms tightly, breathing heavily and rain-soaked. He helped you the rest of the way out and pulled you to your feet. The world still spun a little, and you swayed, disoriented. He didn’t let go of you, keeping his hands firmly on your shoulders. It looked like his mouth was moving, but the sudden movement of standing hurt your head. 

It took a couple of moments before his voice cut through the pounding in your head. “Are you okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, achy and definitely bruised. But you were alive and that was a lot better than you’d thought you be a minute ago. “I-I think so.” 

He sighed in relief before his expression shifted into something unreadable. With his hands still on your shoulders, he shook you, gently but enough to get his point across. “What is wrong with you?!” Javi raised his voice too. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have died! Seriously, what-”

You cut him off by shoving him hard enough for him to drop his hold on your shoulders. The revelation you just had slipped back to the back burner and the fight you had the night before stood front and center. 

“Are you seriously yelling at me right now?” you bit back. 

“Yes!” He threw his hands up in the air as if to say ‘obviously.’ “I thought you died! You can’t do shit like that! You can’t just leave in the middle of a goodman storm and not tell me!” 

A scoff fell from your lips. Your whole body throbbed in a dull pain, momentarily overshadowed by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Why do you care?” you shouted back; your words were coated in hurt that you’d been too angry to express during your fight the night before. You hadn’t said all that you wanted, but it bubbled to the surface and mixed with the flush of emotions you felt in the middle of the storm for Javi. 

He looked offended by your words. “I care because…because you’re you! And if something happened to you I-I…” he trailed off, caught on his words.

You were sure if the wetness on your face was fresh tears, blood seeping from the little cuts, or leftover tears from your near-death experience. Too many things were spiraling around you, even though the storm had stopped. 

“You still can’t do it.” Your chest hurt like someone had reached inside and sank their nails into your heart. “You still can’t tell me how you feel.” 

Wiping your cheeks, you stumbled backward, on the verge of crying. But before you could walk away, he caught your wrist, spinning you around to face him. 

“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” he admitted, blurting out with so much emotion it was dizzying. You were sure you'd never seen him look like that, scared yet brave. “If you died and I never got to tell you…” He took a breath, sliding his hand down your wrist and into your hand. “Tell you that I love you.” 

For a moment, you weren’t sure you had heard him right. You blinked, silently staring for a moment. You’d hit your head more than once and everything was still a little off as you came back down from the tornado. 

“You what?” 

“I love you,” he said, that time without hesitation. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 

You smiled, bright and relieved. You hastily grasped the side of his face before pulling him toward you in a sweet but desperate kiss. That kiss was different than it had been before, in the darkened corners of country bars. The kiss was full of pent-up emotions and unsaid words finally spilled. 

Pulling apart, you rested your forehead against his, laughing lightly at the absurdity of it all. You still felt like you were spinning.

Someone behind you both cleared their throat and you felt your face get hot at the raised brows of Tyler and Kate. “Sorry,” you said, feeling giddy and still a little woozy. 

“Don’t be,” Tyler replied. “That was beautiful.” Kate rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Kate said before she and Tyler led the way back to town. 

You and Javi lingered for a moment longer, your hands intertwined. “I love you too,” you said, earning a toothy grin from him. He slung his arm around your shoulder, careful to avoid the little bumps and scarps you’d accumulated over the course of the storm, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

[okiedokrie]

All Is Fair In Love And War Pt.1

Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!

Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint

AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope

Word Count: 3,194 (Full fic is around 10k)

Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings in the next part

Rating: 18+

A/N: I decided to split this into parts since I'm not confident ill be able to finish this within the deadline, this is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the first part, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!

In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man.

Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.

Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.

The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.

This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.

Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.

By the age of 28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.

This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.

In turn, you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.

Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.

“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.

Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.

“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.

“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.

“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.

“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”

Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.

It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.

Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.

“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.

Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, another car intercepted her in the intersection.

It happened so quickly, too quickly for Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.

That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.

It was all over the news “Beloved Grammy-nominated rising star, Undyne, passed at a downtown intersection in a successful assassination.” Headlines went crazy with her story, telling her life before her short-lived success as a pop star.

The police were on her case, and the street cameras identified a black car with a non-existent plate number. they couldn’t find the people who owned it, but they did have enough evidence to call it a homicide.

Joshua, being close to the scene at the time when it happened, was one of the key witnesses to the whole case.

Currently, Joshua is in the waiting area of the police station, waiting for the detective on the case to lead him to the interrogation room where he will give his statements. He was just mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a voice snapped him out of it.

“Mr. Hong? Correct?” One of the officers asked him. He nodded to confirm it, repeating his full name. The officer just nodded too, “Okay, please follow me. Detective L/n will be there to ask a few questions.” He turned to the direction of the interrogation room, Joshua trailing behind him quietly.

The officer stopped in front of a door, “Here we are, just head on in.” He said, nodding at him. He walked into the interrogation room, the chilly air making goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin, the thin cardigan he wore did nothing to shield him from the cold. He took a seat at the chair facing the door, poking at the cold metal table as he waited.

“Good Morning Mr. Hong, I’m Detective L/n. I’m here to ask you a few questions, everything said here will be transcribed as evidence for this case, do you consent to this?” You started, taking the seat in front of him, your tone was very professional, as he expected, you didn’t even bother with pleasantries other than introducing yourself, which didn’t bother Joshua. He confirms his consent verbally, politely smiling at you with his hands clasped over the table.

“Great, I’d like to ask a few questions about you first.” You said, taking out your folder for the case, “You’re Joshua Hong, born on the 30th of December, 1995. You own the club downtown where your place of residence is also. Is all of that correct?” Joshua confirms all of the information is correct.

“You can just call me Joshua, by the way, Mr. Hong makes it seem like I’m someone important.” He said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

You just nod, writing something down in your notebook, “What was your relationship with Diana Kamatayan?” You asked, reviewing the official file which states that she is one of Joshua’s ‘clients’.

You were well aware of how the king of Los Amsterdam does his business, favors for favors. That’s how he got this far, and if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll take away everything he gave you. You knew asking for Joshua’s help would make this investigation go quicker, but that would mean you’d owe him.

Owing Joshua Hong anything is a dangerous position to be in.

So while you have him in this interrogation room, you’re going to try to milk every bit of information out of him while it’s free.

“Well,” he started, getting comfortable in his seat, “She was one of my clients, I’m sure your file on me already knew that. Other than a professional relationship, I don’t really have one with her. That night was the first time I’ve seen her in a little over a year, actually.”

You nod, the timeline matches up, “And why did you meet her that night?” You ask next, trying to get more out of the nature of this last meeting.

“She approached me while I was in my nightclub. I was just about to turn in for the night when she came up to me to catch up. She thanked me for introducing her to a producer and wanted to catch up.”

Joshua really wasn't giving any information for free, as the interrogation went on you could only collect information you already knew. He didn't reveal any more than a simple google search did.

You drop your file folder onto the table, where Joshua's posture remained calm, cool, collected across from you, the small, charming smile still on his face.

“Did you get what you needed, Detective?” Joshua asks politely, tilting his head with his query.

“All I got was everything we already knew.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders in your seat. You turn in your seat, facing Joshua head-on once more. “Joshua, you are one of the most powerful and influential men in Los Amsterdam. We need your help in solving this case. All our leads have gone cold. We need your connections.”

Joshua smirked, the only time his expression changed from the relaxed and polite smile he had for the rest of the interview. His posture relaxed, leaning forward over the table, he placed his palms down on the cool metal surface, and said, “You do know what that would mean, right? The price you’d have to pay?”

You nodded, “I know all too well.”

“Asking me for a favor would mean that you’d owe me, do you think you can afford to pay that price?” He raised his eyebrows, you’d think your eyes deceive you when his irises glowed a soft gold—tilting his head in an almost teasing manner, taunting you.

Your breath hitched as you looked back at the one-way glass, knowing your co-workers were watching every detail of this interaction. “I promise I’ll deliver what I owe you. Just- please help us.” You said, not being able to look at him directly in the eyes.

He straightens his back once more, his polite smile returning to his face. “It’s settled then, I look forward to working with you Miss.”

Driving through the streets of a somewhat more affluent neighborhood, you stop in front of a well-known party den. There are plenty in Los Amsterdam, but this one was popular because of their ‘free-love’ policy.

Essentially, if you want to fuck, every surface is available to borrow for the duration.

You don’t look forward to entering the den, especially since you don’t know which surfaces are good to touch, but your partner beside you seems to be relaxed and content to visit such a place.

“God, I haven’t seen Jackson in forever. I hope he’s still having the time of his life here.” Joshua said with his bright eye-smile. You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. How could he find a place like this enjoyable? You don’t understand how the minds of party-goers work.

“Okay, how exactly is visiting a party den supposed to help with our investigation?” You finally ask him, he refused to elaborate on how relevant this location was when you met up with hiim, or during the entire car ride to said location.

“Well, Jackson still owes me, and he’s Diane’s ex’s first producer. If there’s anyone with a motive to get her killed, it’s her ex. I asked him to get Johnny drunk enough to pass out in one place. Now you have the perfect stage to corner and investigate him!” He said, with a smile on his face as if his plan didn’t just open up a whole new can of worms for you.

“You do know it’s illegal for me to just interrogate him without a warrant right? He might lawyer up if he figures out we’re onto him.” You said running a hand through your hair.

“Which is why I got you this,” he pulls out a skimpy party dress and matching heels from his duffle bag, “We blend in with the party-goers, that way you’re not interrogating him, you’re just having a conversation.”

“Joshua Hong you are insane.” You said, tone raising, “I’m not walking into a sex den looking like a hooker!”

“Don’t worry, we’re just trying not to stand out, please, just trust me.” He said handing the outfit over to you. You think over his words, it would be wise not to draw too much attention to yourself. If you made it obvious that you were a cop you’d have to resort to improvising.

You were never good at improvising.

Joshua gave you the decency to turn away while you changed, he was already in his usual relaxed suit that already made him look like a pimp, so he was already dressed for the occasion.

You both step out of the car, your heels clacking on the pavement below you. How Joshua managed to find your shoe size is in itself impressive, but you don’t have the time to dwell on that.

You both enter the bustling house filled to the brim with people indulging in their vices, whether it was alcohol, drugs, the ‘free-love’. It was a mess of bodies and fluids that you’d rather not inspect closely.

Joshua expertly weaved through the crowd, parting it like Moses did to the red sea. He didn’t have any difficulty locating Jackson Wang, the host of these parties.

“Jackson!” Joshua called out, the man was sitting in one of the many loveseats, a can of beer in hand and two ladies under his arms, giggling and getting very comfortable with him.

Jackson squints over the flashing lights, eyes widening in recognition after seeing Joshua. “Joshua! My man! Glad you finally made it! Got to say though, that favor of yours was an odd one. But you’ll be able to find him in my room. You know the way.” He waves him off, resuming to talking to the women clinging onto him.

You follow after Joshua, quickly climbing a few sets of stairs to get to the third floor, the entirety of the third floor was just Jackson’s room. He made sure to lock the door behind the both of you when you guys arrived.

The floor was far quieter than the floors below you, and less of a mess than them too. This room felt like Jackson’s actual home, and not like a party den.

Joshua spots Johnny stumbling around the room, nursing a liquor bottle- a few of them.

“Joshua we can’t interrogate him when he’s like this, he can barely even stand!” You said, waving your arms in front of you to point at the inebriated man.

“That’s not a problem, watch this.” Joshua takes long and purposeful strides toward him, once he finally reaches him, he takes his face in his hands and stares directly into his eyes.

You watch in awe and slight confusion, until Joshua speaks up, “You want to tell us everything we want to know, and you will be sober as a priest while you do so.”

Suddenly the haziness in Johnny’s eyes faded in an instant, his brown eyes now have a golden ring around the irises, like a puppet on a string.

“What did you need to know?” Johnny says, no longer under the influence of alcohol.

“Joshua, what did you do to him?” You ask in slight horror.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry about it.” He said, “Continue your questioning on him, detective, if we spend any more time here Jackson’s gonna think we’re having sex here.”

Not wasting any more time you ask Johnny, “Are you aware that Diane Kamatayan had been assassinated? Do you know any information about that?” Johnny squints before his eyes widen in recognition, “Diane, yeah, her, we dated a bit. I was obsessed with her. But she broke it off when she got big. Yeah, I’m pissed, but instead of doing anything healthy with my time I just chose to shit-talk her on Twitter and drown in alcohol. When I heard the news about her passing, I lost it, went straight here where Jackson just kept handing me bottle after bottle with no questions.”

You look at Joshua, raising an eyebrow, not much of a motive if he didn’t even contact her directly in the entire duration of their time as exes.

You shake your head, back to square one then.

“It didn’t help that she started dating the old geezer of a producer of hers.” Johnny said, eyebrows furrowing in frustration, “That whore, she probably got big because that sleaze of a producer gave her banger after banger for sucking his dick or something, tch.” he said, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.

“I’m pretty sure it was him who killed her too.”

You and Joshua look at each other in shock, eyes meeting for a second, almost as if communicating telepathically.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, cautious around the increasingly irritated Johnny.

“He’s always been a greedy bastard, worked with him before. Wanted to claim all the royalties of my song, so I sued him. Pretty sure he got threatened by how rich Diane was getting for that hit.” Johnny spat, distaste seeping into every word he said, “Now Diane is dead, and the bastard is getting married to some Slavic model, most likely cashing in all those royalty cheques.”

You and Joshua nod at each other. Joshua snaps his fingers, it’s almost as if snipping a puppet off its strings, the glow around Johhny’s eyes dims and disappears, suddenly slumping over the seat, stumbling drunkenly like he did when you found him.

“Okay, we have a lead.”

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #7

Genesis: SEPHIROTH, STOP MEOWING AT ME.

Kunsel: Any loser twink can be a fem-boy, but it takes a real badass to be a fem-man.

Sephiroth: Did I "yee-haw" with joy, or did it convey depression?

Zack, holding up Cloud: BEHOLD.

Sephiroth, stealing a fry from Angeal's plate: A most generous offering. You will be spared. Angeal: FROM? Sephiroth: You will be spared.

Genesis, wearing sunglasses and holding a cappuccino: So there I was, gelato on my breasts—

Cloud: Aww, that's such a cute Halloween decoration. *pointing at Genesis sobbing in the corner*

Angeal: Who put a hotdog in the candy bowl?? Zack, in the background: Halloweenie.

Sephiroth: I could've sworn "motherfucker" was a compliment.

Angeal: IF YOU EAT THAT WEEK-OLD SUSHI PLATTER, YOUR INTESTINES WILL BECOME RADIOACTIVE.

Sephiroth: Zack, can I enjoy this steak dinner without you explaining A/B/O to me?

Lazard: I think we ALL need to beat our fathers with shovels, Sephiroth, you're not special.

Zack: NO! THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BANANA!

Genesis: He manspreads to assert dominance, I manspread to create a barrier between myself and heteronormativity. We are not the same.

Sephiroth: I just sent Angeal an email describing my feelings for him. If he doesn't reply, I'll show up at his apartment and superglue myself to the door.

Zack: Give me a pen, paper, and three Adderall, and I'll write something better than Loveless in one hour.

Kunsel: Everyone is subjected to failure, but at least I'm not Roche, who thought the plural of ninja was ninji.

Sephiroth: I have exactly three crayons on my person right now, and they're all stolen from Zack.

Angeal, chewing with his mouth full: Don't make psycho-sexual comments in front of my cheeseburger.

Zack, narrating what he's seeing: 🎶 Look at Angeal 🎶 beating Sephiroth with a frozen chicken because he forgot to take it out the freezer. 🎶

Sephiroth: Please refrain from analyzing my deep-seated fear of abandonment linked to my mother's absence and its impact on my emotional regulation, it's seven in the morning and I still haven't had coffee.

Cloud: I'm about two mental breakdowns away from resorting to gang affiliation.

Genesis: COUNTER SPELL! *flicks his wrist* TRAUMA!

Roche: I often have nightmares about Sephiroth attacking me with a spork.

Sephiroth, in the presence of a spider: I feel anti-at peace.

Zack: Dear diary, today I committed tax evasion, and felt great. Tomorrow I'll try embezzlement and eventually vandalism!

Sephiroth: Can you read this death threat note and check if my handwriting is recognizable?

Zack and Genesis: *Loudly arguing over who gets to be the ring bearer at Sephiroth and Angeal's wedding*

Angeal, laying on the floor: Good luck trying to find my will to live, gang.

Genesis: I'm flashing you a tit to maintain our friendship.

Sephiroth: If I had a gil for every time someone compared me to a cat, I'd have enough to purchase that expensive human cat bed that has been on my wishlist for ages.

Roche: Is my discount wig a joke to you, Zackary?

Cloud, placing an "I miss you" letter from his mother in Sephiroth's line of view: Yeah, that's right. Fuck you.

Lazard: Someone pinned a death threat on my office door written in glitter gel pen.

Genesis, flirting: I own an air-fryer.

Angeal: T-shirt that says "I survived Zack's power point presentation on aliens that included a photo of Sephiroth on the fourth slide"

Roche: Cloud Strife's evil twin…Grass Peace.

Sephiroth: *Showing Zack pictures of baby cows while Zack sobs into his burger*

Genesis: PUT. MASAMUNE. DOWN. No one is stealing your crayons.

Sephiroth: Genesis, I feel inspired to compliment your ass.

Lazard: Take a good, hard look at Sephiroth wearing flip-flops and tell me I shouldn't be stressed.

Sephiroth: A most efficient weapon to add to my arsenal *wielding an entire streetlamp*

Zack, talking to Angeal: My insecure trooper and faceless info guy, versus your 6'7 cat and walking red flag.

Kunsel: Is the cure to male loneliness *incomprehensible screeching* ?

[nadinescholtes]

Horror AU before and final stage of the mutations.

My idea for this horror dimension:

This creator was fascinated by Bloodmoon's murderous tendencies, he thought it was much better than Moon's killcode. So he copied Bloodmoon's code, similar like Ruin did and turned it into a virus. His plan was to plant it into Moon and make him murderous like he was supposed to be.

But something went wrong and it was Jack who got infected first. It didn't show right away. It was slow. After weeks he became snappy, was annoyed at everyone's presence, and ate a lot. The family thought he was becoming a moody teenager. But then he started to bully poor Dazzle and became physically violent. They kept disciplining him. One day he was quiet and behaved, and went into his and Dazzle's room for the night. Dazzle was already asleep.

In the middle of the night, they heard Dazzle screaming and when they (Sun, Moon, Solar, Laia) checked, Dazzle's body was completely destroyed while Jack was chewing on her parts. Jack then tried to attack the adults, but Laia pinned him on the floor. He acted like a bloodthirsty animal. While Sun was having a panic attack over Dazzle's body, Laia helped Moon and Solar bring Jack to the lab to lock him up. And when they were sure he couldn't escape, Moon and Laia went back to Sun, while Solar was scanning Jack over for what the hell is wrong with him. He was crying but Evylin's ghost was still there comforting him.

For days they kept looking at what was going on with Jack, who got worse and worse. Solar and Moon were fighting a lot because Solar was always in a bad mood, they thought it was because of Jack. After some time, they found out it was a virus that spread through phone calls (yep I got that from the movie Cell) and they all were infected. And Solar is showing the first symptoms because he was the first one calling Jack after Jack got infected.

It went like this: Jack got an anonymous phone call (from the creator who got the wrong number), then called Solar, Solar called Moon, Moon called Monty, Monty called Lunar and Earth, Earth called Laia, and Laia called Sun. They all called a bunch of other people (humans, too), and they got infected as well. The ones who got infected first showed symptoms first.

They had to lock up Solar as he became more aggressive. Moon tried to leave the dimension to find a cure, but somehow, touching a portal made the virus burn in them (like the virus is inflammable to whatever energy the portal is made of), and Moon turned into ashes right in front of Sun. Then Solar and Jack escaped.

Laia and Sun were home alone with ghost Evylin and Lunar. They were hoping Monty who was still sane would find a cure. Sun once lost control and killed his cats. Laia and Sun were so distraught and giving up hope. Laia tried to lock herself in her room or leave because she was worried about hurting Sun. But Sun convinced her otherwise and they stayed together. One night Lunar left and never came back.

Monty provided the infos on how the virus spread to the government (by person, no phone calls). Every communication device that wasn't paper was forbidden and destroyed. But it was too late, so many were infected and went on a murderous rampage, they killed and ate whatever lives. (Well humans who haven't mutated yet couldn't eat robots)

Solar showed up at Monty and Earth's home and killed Monty who protected Earth. Earth ran away but later became insane too and went on a murderous rampage. What happened to Daisy? She ran away when Earth started to bully her in her early blackouts. No one saw her again.

The world was in chaos, with noninfected people trying to survive, and buildings destroyed.

Insane Sun and Laia had to leave their house because it was set on fire by other infected people and settle themselves in the pizzaplex. Ghost Evylin followed them, all this time she tried to get her old Sun and Laia back but nothing worked. Later left because Sun and Laia kept bullying and trying to attack her even though she was just a ghost and couldn't be touched. Sun and Laia noticed that they have the urge to kill everyone even friends and families, but never each other. They still cared and loved each other, so they stayed together.

The virus:

It's not like a zombie virus. People don't become undead. They are aware of what is going on but still are insane, and are controlled by murderous tendencies and cannibalism (like Bloodmoon but worse). They start to hate their friends and families and kill them. They not only kill non-infected but the infected too. They don't have the urge or care to spread the virus. They just want fun by killing and eating people. The longer they torture the victims the more satisfying the meal is (like Bloodmoon, they were always disappointed, if their victims died too fast) People in the first stage still can fight the urge to kill but are mean and snappy to people. Later they have blackouts and wake up with hurt people or dead bodies and then they can't fight it anymore and attack people willingly.

Over the years by consuming their victims, the virus makes the infected bodies mutate into more monstrous-looking beings. They bleed dark grey blood and their insides have bioorganic stuff in them. The first sign was Laia's hands becoming bigger and Sun grew a second set of teeth behind the plastic ones.

Sun had less control over himself about killing. With his consent Laia uses a chain to hold him back, so they can have more fun torturing their victims. The fully mutated Sun can control himself better, but they keep the chain because they like it. (it's not like that thing can still hold him back)

They are not invincible, humans can be killed like normal humans and animatronics can die like animatronics. But once they are fully mutated, it will be difficult to kill them because they become faster and stronger. (Laia was already strong, to begin with) Their abilities depend on their mutations, like long claws to climb walls, etc.

Edit:

The creator blew up not long after he sent the virus because an experiment went wrong.

He didn't mean to cause a breakout; the virus was meant for Moon only. But he dialed the wrong number, and Jack got the virus. And because Jack got a virus that wasn't meant for him, it changed inside him and became infectious. (I can't go into depth about how that works, I'm no scientist)

If the creator had dialed the right phone number and Moon had gotten the virus, there would have been no breakout, only a very murderous Moon, like he was supposed to be.

Alright, this is sad but it is a horror dimension with Sun and Laia after all. I don't know if I will do something big with it like another comic series (I have already too many to work on), but if you want to do fanart or fan-stories of it, go for it. Just let me know please, I like to see it!

[freak-accident419]

we might be dead by tomorrow

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Because everyone seemed to fail him, Derek Danforth decided to call you up to kill Mr. Clay. You are an assassin that had an intimate, yet complicated relationship with Derek in the past, sharing a bittersweet history together. You realize that you’re going against a Beekeeper, and felt obligated to spend one last night with your old lover, as this mission doesn’t guarantee your survival. But you’d do anything for him—even if it meant dying for him.

WC: 4.4k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, unspecified genitals for reader (vague penetration), more plot than porn tbh, cursing, smoking, drinking, mentions of death, slight spoilers for The Beekeeper but nothing too drastic

(A/n: Thank you guys for showing me so much support lately. I hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :) love you all !!)

-

You raised your glass to your lips, letting the rich, smooth liquid of scotch graze your tongue and go down your throat seamlessly after your brief sip.

You look at the man behind the office desk in front of you. It wasn’t like you haven’t seen him in a ridiculously long time, probably just for a couple of months to a year, more or less. But you never got tired of looking at him when you could. He was an incorrigible asshole, but his beautiful, hazel eyes would convey otherwise. He was an immoral, selfish dick, but the way his lips formed into a smile could convince anybody with basic cognition that he was an angel.

The silence was awkward, indubitably because of the complicated past you shared, but the eye contact really wasn’t—if anything, it was subtly bittersweet. And instead of being at his office inside Danforth Enterprises, you were at his office inside his mansion, which already revealed the secrecy and urgency of his request: he wanted you to kill for him again.

“Nobody has a name for this guy, no leads, no info, no nothing, he is off the fucking grid,” he explained to you sternly. “I was gonna make fuckin’… Wallace fix shit up, but his incompetent fucking men keep failing me, so—”

“You’re taking manners into your own hands and your last resort was hiring me? After, like, months of radio silence from me?”

He perked up at your words, then nodded, taking a lazy sip of his drink. “Precisely.”

“Okay,” you nodded accordingly. It was second nature, instantly agreeing to something this morbid, but you were an assassin after all, and Derek had hired you quite frequently in the past to take care of things. It was actually how you two initially met and eventually became intimate through—for a while, at least. “What’re you offering?” You ask, taking a cigarette out from one small box in your pocket.

“One million,” he answered briefly. However, you scoffed in disbelief, which almost immediately gained a perplexed reaction from him. “What?”

“Let’s go over the facts,” you begin, leisurely crossing your legs by resting your ankle onto your other knee. “This guy burned down your thirty million dollar call center. He could’ve definitely been related to the goddamn gas station explosion, killed all the guys you sent, and you were the last to hear from Garnett before he died at the hands of this man.” You took out your lighter and placed the cigarette in your mouth. “This guy is fucking intense. He is out for blood, your blood, Derek. It looks like he’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way, and if that’s gonna be me, I expect a higher fucking payment.” Your voice was slightly raised at the end of your sentence as you lit your cigarette, taking a long drag.

Derek sighed as he realized that you had a point. You always did, actually, in fact, he nearly always obeyed you. It was like you were the only person who could control that firecracker of a man. “Fuck… Fucking fine. Three million.”

You give a smug smile, blowing out the smoke from your drag and letting your cigarette rest between your fingers once you moved it out of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” You tease cheekily, seeing his brows knit in impatience and exasperation. You pursed your lips before asking, “What’s this guy’s deal anyway? Like, what do you know about him so far?”

Derek huffed with agitation. “Fuck, I don’t know, he… He just fucks around with all my shit, apparently he’s a-a fuckin’ beekeeper, and—”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes widen, heart practically racing as you heard those words come out of his mouth. Was it purely coincidental, or…

“What?” He asked as he noticed how exceedingly pale your face went. You never had this expression on your face, at least not in front of him. You were always seen by him as perpetually unafraid, but in this very moment, you seemed to be unusually apprehensive. “Fuck, Y/n, what is it?”

“Did you say he was a beekeeper?” You inquired silently, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the only fucking thing we know about him. Why?” Derek seemed to appear gruff and utterly pissed on the outside, but internally and authentically, he was fundamentally solicitous, especially for you. Why were you, if anything, afraid?

“Yeah, that can’t be a fucking coincidence,” you mumble thoughtfully to yourself as you take an anxious drag from your cigarette. “The Beekeepers is some kind of secret organization, completely off the goddamn grid that consists of professionally trained assassins. And let me tell you, Danforth, these guys are hard-fucking-core. You thought I was terrible? These guys are fucking worse,” you stress, waving your cigarette around as the trail of smoke followed your hand gestures. “If this guy is a part of them, then holy shit, the both of us are dead.”

Derek processes your words, however only growing antsy and disgruntled. “So what? You can handle another fucking cocksucker. I know you, your skills are off the charts.”

“Hey, I know myself more than anybody does, including you. And I know that I have a very advanced skillset, but maybe not as advanced as fucking Beekeepers. Look, Danforth, I will definitely put up a fight, but this man could definitely—”

“Y/n, you’re the best fucking assassin I fucking know, just—just do the fucking job,” he demanded relentlessly, displeased with your insistent, yet assertively spoken doubt.

You glared at him with agitation for a few seconds, before speaking again.

“Five million,” you state bluntly.

“What?”

“Five fucking million, Danforth. If you want me to kill this man, let alone a fucking beekeeper, I expect higher pay,” you argue tactfully.

You sense a sort of irked frustration in him, his face contorted, teeth gritting behind his closed lips, and dark eyes, in which you’ve seen on several previous occasions.

“Goddamnit, Y/n, he’s just another fucking guy! Just, fuck, snipe him if you have to, or whatever,” he insisted tiredly. “You’re the best killer I know. This guy doesn’t have shit on you, just—”

“Danforth, I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’ll come back from this mission alive, so five million or no deal!” You exclaimed, trying to emphasize how dangerous this job would be.

“Jesus! Fuck! Fine!” he conceded aggressively, leaning back in his chair. “Five million it is,” he grumbled.

You feel your eyes soften and your eyebrows relax pleasantly the moment you heard those words. You grinned mischievously, taking another drag from your cigarette. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Derek rolled his eyes in response, displeased by the amount of money he was going to give you just to kill one guy.

“Sure, whatever,” he replies lazily. “I trust you, so whoever—”

You scoffed amusedly, interrupting him. “You shouldn’t,” you say.

“What?” He was extremely baffled as he heard your response.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” you repeat.

“Umm, okay, and why-why the fuck not?” Derek was frustratingly oblivious, too ignorant to comprehend the contentious situation between you two that resulted in a long period of desolated avoidance.

“You are aware that I have tried to kill you, yes?”

A piercing silence.

It was true, unfortunately. Back when you were constantly doing jobs for Derek, an anonymous hire suddenly offered more than $80 million for you to assassinate him. Back then, you were marginally involved with Derek in an intimate setting. You worked for him as his executioner, and soon enough, your charm led to you sleeping together on several occasions and exchanging some sweet kisses and words, alongside the establishment of affectionate pet names. What hurt the most about it was that it was all authentic, his feelings and yours. However, you were weak and selfish and overall blinded with greed. Eighty million was drastically more than any amount you were ever hired with. So you took up the offer to assassinate President Jessica Danforth’s young, foolish son.

You were going to pull the trigger once your eyes locked on the target, but the second you did, you missed, causing severe lockdowns and the anticipated presence of the secret service. And when it all died down, Derek caught you with his own eyes as you attempted to escape, yet shockingly, he let you go. And you barely kept in contact ever again—until now.

“It—It doesn’t matter, Y/n, okay, I don’t see you pointing a gun at my head anymore, so it’s all in the past, alright?” He raised his glass to his lips, drinking the remaining bourbon (he preferred it more than scotch).

“Wh—? Okay, why the fuck are you so calm about it? I tried to kill you, don’t you understand that?” You stressed, continuing to frustratingly watch his nonchalant reaction to you.

He set his glass back down on the table, not even bothering to put it on the actual coaster, which was literally just about an inch away. “It’s because I know you, Y/n. I know that you’re the best fucking assassin I’ve ever hired and you never miss a shot. You’re, like, completely flawless at what you do. And because you’re that perfect at it, it amuses me that you missed when you had such a clear shot at me.” You glared at him as he spoke, plainly vexed.

“You were fucking afraid,” he continued, making you huff in disbelief. “You didn’t wanna kill me. Sure, eighty million seemed promising, but it didn’t live up to the sex and passionate admiration we had for each other. I trust you because I know now that if you were offered all the diamonds and golds in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn’t kill me for any of it.”

You hated how much this was true. You couldn’t kill him if you had the chance. Which was what mainly pissed you off, because he had to be the most annoying, arrogant, egotistical bastard you knew. And yet, you had a soft spot for him. And he had a soft spot for you. You were way too fond of him.

You sigh afterwards, knowing that he was completely right, whether you’d like it or not. “Well… Okay, do you trust me when I say that there is no guarantee that I’m coming back alive—”

“Goddamnit, Y/n, enough about this!” Derek interjected. “I trust that you’ll get the job done—”

“Danforth, I—”

“You know my name,” he snarled. “Use it.”

You groan impatiently, unabashed. “Okay, Derek, well as I said, The Beekeepers is a very elite organization. There is a reason why this guy was able to take down all your men at UDG—”

“It’s because they were fucking incompetent! You, howev—”

“Holy shit, Derek, just shut up for once!” You blurt. “If I don’t make it out alive, then what are you gonna do? Hm?”

“You’re… Y/n, you are going to make it out alive,” he grumbled, tired of your claims.

“Derek, I swear to fucking god—”

“If he fucking kills you, I’ll make sure to rain fucking hell on that bastard and the whole fucking Beekeeper organization itself. Okay?”

And it was clear that he was still so very fond of you.

You gave a slight chuckle, putting out your cigarette on a nearby ashtray. Your hands clasped together in front of you on the surface of the wooden desk, which was also presented in front of him. And so suddenly, Derek placed his hands over yours, lightly grazing the back of your hands and fingers with his fingertips and palms. It was comforting, to say the least, as well as nostalgic.

“I missed you,” you muttered softly, watching the two of your hands fidget with each other, soft, warm skin moving against coarse, cold skin.

“I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, watching your hands on the table until he moved his eyes up to yours.

“You can deny it all you want, Derek, but I’m not going to get out of this alive or untouched,” you say in the silence of the room.

“I don’t want to believe that,” he simply replied, not wanting to accept the clear reality.

“Well, when you see my obituary in the papers, you’re gonna have to,” you articulate softly as his thumb rubs against yours.

He scoffs in disbelief. “As I said, you’re the best assassin I know. You can easily take out this stupid fucking asshole.” You nod modestly. “I’m serious!”

“Derek, are you trying to flatter me?” You raise an eyebrow with a light chuckle, watching his face gradually turn rosy.

“No, I’m—I’m just pointing out the fuckin’ facts,” he claimed.

“Well… Just in case this is going to be our last night together—”

“It’s not.”

“Well, hypothetically, if—”

“It’s not.”

“Derek!” You exclaim, laughing afterwards. “Just… All I want is for us to spend one night together, as if it’s our last. C’mon, Derek… Let me take care of you.”

It took a short while for him to process your proposal, until he gently held onto your hands to bring them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Okay. Fine,” he answered indifferently. However, you knew that he had a soft spot for you.

***

His gentle, soft lips moved with yours as his rough hands gripped your sides tenderly. It’s been months since you’ve been like this with him, extremely vulnerable with each other physically, ever since your attempt to assassinate him caused mere estrangement. Your back was against the cushiony mattress, your hands cupping his face as your tongue began to clash with his, nearly gracefully as the familiarity of his taste burdened your mouth. The nostalgia creeped behind your mind until it penetrated your brain, making you remember all the ways he used to touch you and pleasure you. But in this very moment, he and you were taking your time with each other. To feel the warm, soft skin against fingertips and fingernails that one another missed.

“You should’ve stopped this when I told you to,” you nearly whispered after you pulled away from his lips, while your eyes explored his hazel irises once again.

He seemed to have no care, or at least no reaction, tucking his head down to nip at your sensitive neck, leaving soft kisses along your throat. “My mom probably wouldn’t have won the presidential election without it,” he remarked, lips trailing up from your collarbone to your jaw.

You scoff silently, moving your hands behind his head to tangle his bleached curls in your fingers. “I’m sure she had it all under control. She’s a remarkable woman,” you reply, feeling his lips against yours again, feeling him tug on your bottom lip right before pulling away again.

“Sure, yes, but… you’ve seen the shitty stats… Without the money we earned, she probably wouldn’t be sitting cozy in the damn White House.” Derek was very persistent about his role and reasons for the continuous phishing scam.

“Well… It doesn’t even matter,” you sigh dismally. “You didn’t stop when I warned you, and now look, you’ve got a whole fucking Beekeeper after you.” Your voice was heavy in disappointment and shame. You couldn’t believe that your old lover would possibly meet his demise if you aren’t proficient enough in your mission.

“Y/n. C’mon. We’ve got it all under control,” he affirmed, pressing some reassuring kisses all over your face. “You just have to kill this one dickhead, and things will go back to the way they were.”

Your eyes meet again, feeling your heart race for a split second as you felt utterly captivated by his beauty and concealed love for you. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” you lamented under your breath.

The way his eyes gazed into yours had communicated something you never thought he would ever have: regret. “I know,” he mumbles as you kiss again, a more passionate and accelerated movement that you sensed was becoming intense.

He took off his blazer, throwing it somewhere down on the floor as you discard your jacket. The two of you could barely separate from each other for too long, so you would desperately kiss each time a new article of clothing is removed. You lift off your shirt and Derek goes down on you again to kiss at your neck once more, leaving hickeys on your collarbone and tracing his lips down to your chest. He looks up at you with affection, kissing your lips once again until he would remove his own shirt.

He cradled your face, crashing his lips onto your passionately, instantly moving his tongue with yours through parted lips. “Everything that we had…” you began in a small whisper between ardent kisses. “Was it all real? Or was it just a way for us to…. to blow off steam? To feel something?”

“No, no, no,” he breathed as you could feel his hand sensibly caress your bare sides. “You’re fucking everything to me.”

Essentially, you were terrified. You knew that eventually, you two were going to lose each other. That’s why you were taking time with this, making sure to not take even a millisecond for granted. And deep down, Derek knew that you were right and that there was no certain guarantee that you could kill the Beekeeper. So he cherished this moment with you. Because in the end, he really loves you.

It was never said out loud, but the two of you loved each other immensely. After years of knowing each other, working together, the ‘one-night-stands’ with ‘no strings attached,’ you two fell for each other faster than the bodies that you shot for him. You were practically the only person he could be stable and decent around. It was always seen through abruptly softened eyes at even the smallest mention of your name.

Once you two were completely naked, your bare bodies attached to each other throughout each deep kiss. His hands graciously moved up and down the skin of your waist as your fingers lost itself in his soft hair, bodies radiating warmth against the other.

His eyes locked with yours, and there was some kind of poignant, desperation in them, looking at you as if you were going to disappear the moment he looked away. “Promise me you’ll come back from this mission alive,” he commanded softly in the cold silence of the room.

“I’ve told you already, Derek,” you sigh wistfully. “He’s a few more steps ahead of me.”

There was something almost so pathetic and contradictory about his distraught mannerisms. “Then I give you full permission to abort,” he proposed, “when things get too risky. If you seriously think you’re going to get killed, then forget about the entire fucking mission, forget about me, okay?”

“You know I can’t do that.” You stroke his hair tenderly between your fingertips, pushing his curls away from disorder. “It’s either go with the mission or not at all. There’s no point in getting myself into deep shit just to abort.”

The man sighed as he knew you were right, again. But also… “I don’t care,” he blurts. “I don’t fucking care. You can go as far as you’d like with him, but when shit hits the fan, I need you to at least beg for mercy, get on your fucking knees if you have to. I need you to get out of the situation immediately, Y/n, okay? I can’t lose you. Shit, I can’t fucking lose you, okay, not again.”

Your heart sank.

He really did care for you.

“Do you love me?” You ask quietly.

The hesitation in his response would give the impression that he had to think about your question, but the truth was that he always knew—he always knew the answer. He loved you, indisputably.

“Yes,” he answered silently. Then, with more confidence, “I love you. I love you so much that I cannot afford to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you. I just got you back, you can’t leave me again.”

A small smile appeared at the corner of your lips. “I’m still here, my marmalade,” he shivered pleasantly at your use of your old, affectionate nickname for him. “And I love you too. All of me is here for you. That’s the point of all this.”

After a shared, enamored look, his lips attached to yours, and the two of you couldn’t help but whimper as you felt the aching head of his cock begin to enter you, already stretching you with his size. It wasn’t until his length was pushed fully inside you, making your breath hitch as the warm, complete feeling had sparked bittersweet memories of the two of you doing this together in the past. Most of the times they were faster-paced and rougher. But this? It was all foreignly vanilla to you; this was straight-up making love at its fibrous roots.

Your face was flushed, feeling tingly as he slowly began to move in and out, his hands hooked under your shoulders in a grip as you held his forearms, locking his legs down with your own. He kissed your lips softly, then down to your neck as his thrusts slowly increased, putting all his weight on you as your chests were pressed against each other.

The two of you let out soft moans once every overlapping feeling intensified, breath quickening every snap of Derek’s hips. You moved your hand to the back of his head, tangling his hair in your fingers again as you deepened the kiss, the two of you only parting to breathe.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sinking into you deeper. Your bodies were so close together, nearly merging as you felt each passionate thrust filling you up. “You feel as good as I remembered.” You let his head be buried into your neck as you felt him gently nip the skin, your fingers still wrapped in his curls and you let your eyes rest, completely indulging in the pleasure he offered. “You were right,” Derek breathed softly. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his remark. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t even want you to do this job anymore. If I’m gonna die because I’ll end up not hiring you, then so be it,” Derek husked, continuing to move inside you, making your fleshy walls flutter in exhilaration. “At this point, I’d rather have me die than you.”

You stutter out a quiet moan as you feel his movements quicken. “Damn. The sex is that good?” You joked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He rolled his eyes playfully and snickered lowly. “Yes, the sex is that good,” he reciprocated, mumbling in your lips as he thrusted artfully.

It was like he was no longer selfish with it anymore. Sure, the sex you had in the past with him had equally distributed pleasure, but you would find him focusing on his own release sometimes. However, in this very moment, you could tell that he moved generously and patiently, fucking you carefully—‘fucking,’ however, seemed like a more aggressive approach to describe what was happening, which was plainly the opposite of everything entirely; this was pure lovemaking.

You felt yourself tighten around him as he increases his pace, lips no longer focused on kissing you, but driving the two of you to your release. His cock pushed faster and deeper, in and out, his throat withdrawing stuttered, low grunts and loud, quick breaths. You felt a knot in your stomach, your gut stirring in anticipation. “F-fuck,” he murmured as you felt his hot breath on the side of your face. “Y/n, I’m close.”

Your desperate panting became louder as your legs locked down on his even tighter, threatening to bend further. He lifts his head back up to make eye contact with you, seeing the other’s heated faces and loving gaze. “M-me too, baby.”

He kissed your lips deeply once again, thrusting into you at a rhythm that began to falter, quickening with every soft moan you crooned, repeatedly muttering his name with yearn.

Your cries had crescendoed, hearing desperate, higher-pitched grunts escaping Derek’s pretty mouth, as your bodies stayed warm against each other, building sweat from the intensity’s heat. The sound of skin slapping against skin amplified, wet, squelching noises emitting from each fast action of slipping in and out. You felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure, feeling yourself come closer to your orgasm as your thighs begin to twitch and body begin to ache. It’s almost like you can’t breathe, the way his length fills you up perfectly and caresses your walls sensually.

“D-Derek, I—” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, but you shut them once you feel your lips attached to his. “I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!” You announce, feeling the entirety of your body tense up, already feeling the sensitivity you would feel post-orgasm.

“Hold on, baby, just wait a little longer for me, that’s good, that’s it, fuck,” he breathed frantically, nearly praising your patience and obedience. Derek’s moans becomes louder, practically in unison with yours, and he moaned out your name passionately once the two of you finally came together. Your voice cracks as you call him, hips jolting as you release, feeling yourself become fragile once you clench around him more intensely, back nearly arching in ecstasy. With one last slam of his hips, he came deeply inside you, spilling his warm cum through enraptured and euphoric spurts, making yourself feel entirely filled as his hips remained against yours, cock still utterly inside of you.

The two of you caught your breaths, just to kiss each other again, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Because once all the euphoria slowly died down, you remembered the reality of everything: you or him were going to die at the hands of a compulsive vigilante, and not everything you had together was going to last forever.

His head was buried in your neck, placing lazy pecks on it as the two of you held each other comfortably and safely.

“I just got you back,” he muttered. You were the only person that Derek was the most vulnerable around. “I don’t want to lose you again. Please be careful.”

“You know me,” you reassure softly, disregarding everything you had warned him about. You knew you couldn’t stand a chance against this man. But you’d do it anyway, for Derek. “I’ve killed over fifty men throughout my entire job. I’ve got this.”

Suddenly, he remembered everything you said about the Beekeeper, and how you even doubted yourself and your abilities. “But, you said—”

“Forget what I said,” you interrupt. “I’ve got a real drive to kill him, okay, and that’s you. As long as I have you in my head, he doesn’t stand a chance.” You hated lying to him. But at this point, it wasn’t even about the five million dollars or him hiring you at that; it was about protecting him.

“Are you sure? Because you were very persistent—”

You shut him up with a sweet, deep kiss. “Don’t you worry about it, my marmalade. I’ll take care of it.” You lied straight through your tender, flushed lips that he kissed back.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[trynafindbarbiee]

VOID SUCCESS STORY <3

TW : Abusive family, bullying, suicide attempts!

Before I go straight into my success story I wanna THANKYOU from the bottom of my heart you are my fairy Angel and I love you more than anyone else bestiee :)

I'm sharing this here so everyone can see this

It's been so long since I've joined loa community but I always failed to manifest Consciously , I would constantly look for the 3D to change and I literally wasted years to learn how to manifest when it's the most easiest thing in the whole universe. Then luckly I came to know about the void state but I kept on failing I was unhealthy obsessed with the void with this my mental health became even worse I started to feel like not living anymore. I felt anxious very often, then one day I decided to end my life because things were getting terrible everyday. I attempted suicide and it failed and then the very first thing someone told me after this was "it failed because you deserve to live, you deserves the best, you deserves the world" And guess who it was! SHE WAS MY FAIRY ANGEL 🥺 YOU! MY BESTIEE <3 I'm very thankful to have a friend like you

What I've learnt over time is that these feelings are definitely not permanent and this too shall pass YES it hurts and survival feels difficult but the hope I got from my bestie (Barbie) throughout my recovery process is just unmatched, unexplainable especially for someone like me who keeps thinking that things will never get better. At the same time I was living in a abusive household I was being hated by my parents, friends, neighbours And one day IT'S nowhere near as bad as what you'll get, but my mom had a small amount of narcissist in her. SHE HELD MY HAND OVER A GAS STOVE because as an 15 year old I wrote something that she disagreed with in my journal. I experienced violence with my mother and father beating each other. Seeing drugs being used and knowing that there was something bad and wrong. I also seen my mother having sex with other men and once heard her having sex and I thought she was being beaten.As I got older, I began questioning her medieval methods. Whenever I brought it up, She would always say that she did it for my own good, or that she was showing me how the real world was like. As a baby, I was ferberized. I was sent to a daycare from the moment I could walk. My mother would often punch and slap me in the face, and so I developed a reflex where I put my hands near my head in defense if anyone raises their hands. I have been bullied and ridiculed.

I have overconsumed info to a point where I even started doubting bloggers and loa but then I met my fairy Angel, my life, my bestieeeee 🥺💗 Everyone, let me tell you all of you one thing that she's a real life Angel I swear! She was there with me when my own family was against me, she helped me through my toughest times, she never let me down, she took care of me like a big sister. I'M BLESSED TO HAVE A FREIND LIKE YOU CUTIE PIE <3! we started journey together and she entered the void but I was still struggling. When she messaged me telling that she did it I literally jumped out of my bed and cried, cried and cried I WAS SO HAPPY FOR HER. I got superrrr motivated after that so I took her advice and tried to enter the void once more but I still failed, I didn't enterbut she kept me motivated . She showed me the things and her mansion that she manifested so that I don't doubt void anymore and I'm so grateful to you for that . She told me to try to wake up in the void instead of entering I again listened her and tried and guess what! SHAMEFULLY I again failed , I was giving my power to a method, I didn't realize how powerful I AM.

After all the failed attempts I called Barbie and talked to her for 4 hours straight I told her all the things that were going on in my life and I cried a lot and even Barbie got emotional too and she cried for me I can't forget that day ever 🙂 she told me "Don't worry honey! It's never too late, I'll enter void for you and after that you will be free of all this bullshit" THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY LIKE I WAS NOT EXPECTING THISSSSSSS :) she already did so much for me and still she wanted to help me out, this is why I call you my Fairy Angel <3

And next day she did enter for me and affirmed that I'll wake up in the void but in the morning nothing happened I realized that I didn't woke up there I GOT SO DISCOURAGED and I told this to her and she said that I have to assume that I'll wake up in the void unless it will not work 🙁 I literally Slapped myself for doing such a stupid thing Not assuming that I'll wake up in the void :( But she again entered for me and again affirmed for me Like? How can someone be so nice?

AND THAT NIGHT I DID WOKE UP IN THE VOID 😩💗 I felt so relaxed there, I was in a whole dark space I manifested everything that I wrote in my journal , I was beyond happy that morning when I woke up in my dream apartment the first thing I did after seeing myself in my dream house was that I messaged barbie that WE DID IT 🥺 !!

Y'all are very lucky to have my bestie here , I love you honey, ily so much <3 God literally sent you for me

Sending you so much love, hugs and wet kisses 🤭

~ your beloved 🎀

The most beautiful SUCCESS STORY I ever saw !

Thankyou bub for sharing your story here too ♡

My eyes got wet while I was reading this :) like you are so sweet and strong! ily too and I always will and no need to thank me..Your life was exactly like mine bef I entered the void , I also experienced all this bullshit so I could understand your situation that's why I helped you so, no need to thank me 💗 You should thank yourself bc everytime u felt like ending ur life , everytime u felt like giving up YOU made it through... so thank youself honey ! <3 I'M SO PROUD YOU MAHH BESTIEEE

You also played a vital role in my journey !

I've been through a lot. I have been through things that I didn't even told u . I have been through things that I haven't told anyone . Because of the things that I've been through, I used have an EXTREMELY hard time trusting people. I used to overthink abt how to talk to you and share my feelings without making you feel bad or you thinking I'm dramatic. I don't know how to talk to you without it being awkward but not only u listened me but motivated me also even when u r going through the toughest time in ur life.... Yes I have so many friends But you r someone special , I love you differently than I love my any other friend. Yes we've been through hell. And it's been insane. But still we are together! ily ♡

Idk how do I put my happiness into words :) I'M JUST SO PROUD OF YOU

Enjoy ur life to the max <3

Want me to manifest for you too?

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Commission info!

I'm just going to give you a few pointers, I love your work. I entirely believe whatever you write I will love but can we please include these loosely. Go mad, change it about but something along these lines...

They have always looked out for each other from day one, she always checked in on him and made sure that he was okay and he did the same for her, they always had each other's back ever since the quarry. I don’t want it to be Daryl not being able to tell her that she loves him and the same for her for him if that makes sense. They both know that they love each other dearly and are fully aware of this but neither one of them likes the intimate stuff, the sex, the making out etc. They’ve shared sleeping arrangements before, cuddled, held hands a couple of times but they have never approached the subject as they were both scared about the thought of it or didn't feel the need to. But since arriving at Alexandria there’s been people flirting with one or the other, or making comments, or odd looks etc and it has been getting under their grill and realised that it really bothered them that they never actually made anything official either marriage or whatever but they can’t communicate about it because they’re both as awkward and as broken as each other and have this self belief that everything they touch just ends up in destruction. They end up on angsty terms and shut off from each other then something happens to either the OC or Daryl to the point of either almost losing them, something sparks between them and they decide that actually they do need to make it ‘official’ and shout it to the world. 

I hope that helps but either way let your creativeness flow my dear, do whatever you would like with it.

I know I’m going to love it <3

Fluffy-Dixon Commission

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Typical TWD violence & gore; allusions to smut

You loved Daryl. Daryl loved you. A sentiment that was never spoken but communicated nonetheless. You didn’t need words with him. It was almost as if you never did. The ability to read one another without speaking came naturally from even as far back as the quarry. Those days didn’t really seem like that long ago anymore, time bending and bleeding together as you struggled to just survive. 

The quarry, the Greene farm, the prison—a natural progression of something unnamed. It didn’t need a title. The two of you just fit. Stolen glances, smiles, and even holding hands while on watch. It just felt right. Given that the touches and gestures were reciprocated every single time without the slightest protest told you that it felt the same to Daryl. 

Eventually, you started sleeping in the same cell. There was nothing beyond holding one another, coaxing the stress from your bodies with simple touches that no amount of sex could ever achieve. No one questioned it, though no one really questioned any form of happiness anymore. It was too fleeting. 

“Today sucked.” You would whisper, nuzzling your cheek against the hollow of his throat. 

“S’over now.” He’d reply, fingertips dancing down your spine. 

It was an unplanned, nameless perfection. 

Carol had jokingly referred to you as an old married couple once, and while you didn’t get angry, it did raise several questions. You began to ponder things that had, until that moment, felt ordinary. You had never compared your relationship with Daryl to that of Glenn and Maggie or Rick and Lori. 

Such an innocent statement had been the birthplace of so many doubts. Should it be something that was made official? Should you talk to him about it? And then the prison fell, your combined grief straining whatever it was the two of you had. Though once you had been reunited with your family, things seemed to return to normal. 

Except the lingering thought that you should be doing more. 

“Don’t know how I feel ‘bout this place.” Daryl was perched on the chair just adjacent to the door of the house you, he, and Carol had been assigned, his legs outstretched for his crossed ankles to rest atop the railing. Whittling away at bolts, he didn’t bother to look up when a long time resident called out a hello. 

“It’s not so bad.” You smiled at your notebook and the run list you were creating. The archer grunted. He didn’t trust it. “It’s hard to get used to, I know, but Rick says—”

“Hey, Y/N.” 

Your gaze slid over to the steps, the one you had come to know as Spencer smiling at you from the walkway. “Oh, uh—hey.” The man had been watching you from the moment your group had arrived, his hungry gaze following you with a piercing intensity that made you a little more than uncomfortable. 

“So, the party is tonight.” He lifted a foot to the first step and you saw Daryl’s knife hand still from the corner of your eye. “I was hoping you would accompany me.” Your eyes blinked wide, dancing between the two men. 

“I—well I wasn’t planning on going.” You laid the pen and paper aside, placing your hands on your thighs. 

“Oh, come on, pretty lady. It’ll be fun.” 

Your eyes flitted over to watch Daryl’s hand tighten around the hilt of his knife. Was he just being protective? Was it something more? The questions you tried so valiantly to ignore rose again to the forefront of your mind. 

“M’a go talk to Rick.” The archer spouted suddenly, dropping his legs and standing. He was down the steps and on the walkway before you could manage to say a word. 

Spencer watched him leave, a visible tension draining from his form. Once Daryl was out of sight, Deanna’s son turned back to you with a smile that made your stomach turn. “So, about that party?”

You glanced over his shoulder to Rick’s front door. What would it hurt? Daryl wasn’t attending and making friends couldn’t be such a bad thing. If Spencer wanted more, you would simply set him straight. 

“Yeah, I guess so, but as friends, okay?”

The look he gave you filled you with instant regret. 

“Friends. Sure.” 

Oh boy. 

The gathering itself was a success, introducing you to some of the community’s residents while you gained a bit more knowledge about the history of Alexandria. It was Spencer’s relentless advances that had ultimately driven you to abandon the party early. You had acquiesced to one dance, yet that had been enough to send the wrong signals. 

“Daryl? Are you home?” You called, awkwardly removing the high heels from your aching feet. Of course they would give you the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You’d definitely be sticking with your boots from that point forward, fancy dress or not. “Daryl?” Tired and more than socially drained, you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with your archer and let your stress melt away into the mattress while secure in the safety of his arms. 

It wasn’t meant to be. 

Daryl wasn’t there. It was unlikely he had left the walls. Unlikely but not impossible. So, you shuffled off to change out of the outfit you’d be given and into your familiar attire. By the time he strolled into the house, you had fallen asleep on the couch. 

“Hey.” You croaked, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Daryl glanced your way and offered a jerk of his chin in greeting. “Where’d you go?”

“S’it matter?” He huffed. It almost sounded bitter. 

“I guess not.” You warily watched him move around, the air growing thick with tension. “Just worried, that’s all.” He laughed ruefully, a sure sign that he was ill at ease. “Daryl, are you okay?”

“Dropped by the party earlier.” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t see no reason to stick around.”

Uh oh. 

“Oh.” Why did you feel guilty? Nothing had happened. “You hungry?” You asked, realizing the ridiculousness of the question when there were other obvious pressing matters that needed to be discussed. 

Daryl stopped stripping off his gear to spare you a sidelong glance. “Nah.” That wasn’t what he wanted to say, that much was clear, but he refrained. You felt your heart shift and twist uncomfortably. 

“Daryl, I think we should—”

“M’goin’ to bed.” And then he was gone, loud steps echoing from the basement stairs until they were muted thuds that were followed up by the loud slam of his door. You weren’t welcome in the room that night. 

Wiping angrily at the sudden tears on your cheeks, you cast your gaze to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, suddenly exhausted. In fact, the thought of trudging up to the extra bed was a feat you weren’t sure you could accomplish. Lowering onto the couch, you sniffled and closed your damp eyes. 

Sleep wouldn’t find you that night. 

“We should—” The words were cut off by a mighty yawn, drawing Daryl’s unwelcome attention. His expression alone spoke volumes. 

“S’the matter with you?”

As if he had to ask. He knew you better than anyone, like the back of his hand. You hadn’t rested, fitfully tossing and turning on the couch the previous night, missing the warmth of his arms and the sounds of his breathing. 

Knowing you couldn’t start a discussion that might lead to foolish mistakes, you heaved a sigh. “I’m fine.” Keeping your eyes downcast, you pushed open the passenger door and climbed out, heading toward the main entrance of the mall. A succession of slamming car doors followed. 

“Y’ain’t fine.” Daryl fell into step with you, pulling his crossbow from his back. His eyes, squinting against the sun, remained glued forward. 

Neither are you, you wanted to say. Still, you pressed onward. “Let’s just get this done and go home.” You chose instead, picking up the pace to leave him behind. Arguing with him wasn’t new by any means, but this—tension, it was new. It was different. It felt much like the stress that passed between the two of you after the prison. The questions, the doubts. 

“Y/N!”

You shook your head when you heard him call. You couldn’t deal with that confrontation at that moment. There were supplies to find, there were walkers to avoid and—

You didn’t even realize how close the teeth had come to your shoulder until you felt the sting of Daryl’s bolt slide across the back of your neck to pierce the young woman’s skull. Hand slapping over the cut the projectile had left behind, you spun to watch the body topple sideways, your eyes wide. 

“The hell were you doin’?!” 

Your brain had yet to catch up, your lips moving with mere silence the only result. When Daryl reached you, his weapon clattered to the ground, leaving the others to watch your backs.

“I—”

“Ya just stood there! Why didn’t—goddamnit, Y/N!” 

Your hand jerked away from your neck as you were yanked against his chest, face squished until you managed to maneuver your head just enough to breathe. 

“I’m sorry—I—”

Daryl sniffed above you, roughly letting you go and stepping away. He had turned away from everyone, arm moving to appear as if he might have been wiping at his eyes. “S’get this done.” He snapped, jerking his arm in a vague motion to beckon you. “You’re stayin’ with me, y’hear?” 

You nodded, though he couldn’t see, and picked up his bow for him. After he had taken it, he stomped toward the entrance, barking at you to keep up. 

How could you have been so careless? You’d allowed your thoughts and worries to cloud your judgment, blind you to danger. If Daryl hadn’t been there, you’d have been dead. Now things were worse between the two of you. He stalked ahead, his shoulders tense and frame trembling. Did you dare try and smooth things over?

“Got somethin’ here.” He suddenly spouted, rocking back and forth with the toe of his boot pressing into a creaking floorboard. He glanced at you, eyes narrowed in a silent request to watch his back. You jerked your chin in a nod. Crossbow placed next to him on the floor, he crouched and used his knife to pry up the board and reveal a bag beneath it. “Bingo.”

“What’s in it?” You inquired, looking to him for a reply and then back to the door. 

“Meds. Some granola bars and Spam.” He shoved the sack into his satchel. 

“Trip was worth it then.” You were smiling when you turned to him, your mouth turning down when you were assaulted by the expression he donned. He was stricken. 

“Worth it.” He looked down as he stood, licking his bottom lip before chewing it in earnest. “Nah, Y/N. It weren’t worth it.” Squinting, he shook his head and brushed by you. “We’re done here.”

Sighing heavily, you rubbed the towel over your damp hair. The day’s grime had been washed away, swirling down the drain to keep your tears company. Daryl hadn’t spoken a word to you the rest of the run, not on the drive back, and he had disappeared the moment the car had been parked. 

Pulling your sleep shorts up to rest on your hips, you reached for your camisole when there was a soft knock on your door. You were once again in the upstairs room, giving Daryl his space while suffocating in your own. 

“Yeah?” You pulled the garment over your head and stepped out of the bathroom, narrowing your eyes at the entryway. 

“S’uh—” Daryl cleared his throat, the sound muted by the wooden barrier between you. “S’me.”

Your heart fluttered before it sank. Another argument wasn’t something you were confident you could handle, but you couldn’t just turn him away. Padding across the cold floor on your bare feet, you turned the knob and opened the door enough to lean against it. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He was already rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from foot to booted foot. He was anxious. “Can we, uh—can we talk?” He requested without so much as a glance at you.

Not tonight. I’m too tired. “Of course.” You ignored every possible excuse to avoid the conversation. He merely grunted and squeezed by you with care not to touch. 

And that hurt. 

“What’s up?” You asked with feigned nonchalance, sitting down on your bed. Daryl paid extra attention to the furniture and the things you had taken with you from the basement room. 

“‘Bout today—”

And there it was. “I said I was sorry, Daryl. I was distracted.” You felt your eyes burn, wishing you could say so much more. Tell him you missed him, that you loved him. “It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, I know.” His tone was solemn and it dawned on you that he didn’t seem angry at all. He turned toward you, taking a moment to chew on the side of his thumb. You hated when he did that. You hated anything that caused him discomfort, especially the things he did to himself. “S’my fault, ain’t it?”

You blinked, saucer-sized eyes following his hand as he lowered it. “Your fault?” 

“Just—” You tracked him as he began to pace. “Just saw ya with that prick at the party an’ I—” He stopped, fists clenching before he shook them out and continued wearing a trench into the floor. “I thought—weren’t we—nah. I shouldn’a come up here.” 

The confusion muddling your brain had yet to wear off before you were on your feet and stepping into his path to effectively block the door. “Slow down, Daryl.” His mouth opened but snapped shut with a click of his teeth. “Say what you mean.” You pleaded in the calmest tone you could manage while numerous sentiments twisted in the pit of your stomach, tendriling out to wrap around your heart like a vice. 

“Dunno what I mean.” The defeat on his face, the utter bemusement in his eyes tore you to pieces. It also refueled every burning question that had befuddled your mind into nearly getting yourself killed. 

“Daryl.” For some reason beyond your comprehension, you hesitated with your open palms just in front of his chest. C’mon, idiot. This is Daryl and he— Your train of thought nearly derailed, maintaining just enough contact with the foundation to urge you onward. “Daryl, if I said that I loved you, what would you say?” Your hands finally made contact.

He reeled back a fraction of an inch, his wide eyes mimicking yours from only moments ago. “I, uh—”

“I’ve always thought that you loved me.” You dared, your hands sliding over to settle on his ribs. “I know we’ve never really—decided that we were—”

“Sure, we did.” He cleared his throat, hand traveling toward his mouth as he inhaled. You caught his wrist before he could begin to gnaw on already abused skin. “Mean, I thought we—”

You smiled and released your grasp, content to allow his hand to rest on your waist instead. “I love you.” And you held your breath. Blue orbs danced and sparkled, scrutinizing you and your declaration. 

“Y’sure?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Very.” 

Your first kiss was everything you had expected and all you could have hoped for: sloppy, inexperienced, yet so passionate and honest. Daryl’s teeth clicked into yours, uncomfortable but still inspiring a giggle that had him smiling against your mouth. A real smile. A unicorn in a world that had lost its magic. 

And it stole your breath, precious oxygen that you weren’t sure you found again until you settled on the bed beside him, sweat-soaked, sated, and more in love than you ever thought was possible. 

He never said the words but you had all the answer you needed. 

You were his. 

He was yours. 

And even if he turned beet red each and every time, you’d shout it from the rooftops. 

[tsams-and-co-memes]

TSAMS Moondrop Canon Info

Updated - 11/10/24

Moon's likes:

Dogs

Anime

Pokémon

Webcomics

Imagine Dragons

Quietness

Spending time with his family

Magic (he's trying to have as little to do with it as possible now)

Technology

Coding

Six The Musical

My Little Pony

Palworld

Hot water

Minesweeper

Wolves

Historical shows/movies

Puzzles

Knitting (he's expressed an interest in it)

Crunchy food (specifically BBQ chips)

His favorite land animal is cheetahs, his favorite flying animal is falcons, and his favorite sea animal is blue whales

Moon's dislikes:

Moon’s favorite MLP character is Fluttershy

Shadow the Hedgehog

Kids (<- he doesn't mind them as much anymore)

Witnessing any amount of affection between people or being subjected to it, even in a familial way (he always acts grossed out by it, but maybe he’s just messing around, I’m not sure)

Star Wars

Back to the Future

Eclipse

The creator

Bloodmoon

Cooking (Removing this, since he's expressed a desire to learn how to cook)

Flash (the TV series)

The bubbly sensation that comes with carbonated drinks

Pikachu

Miscellaneous:

Moon is aroace (but if he were to ever date anyone, he would want them to have the same sense of humor and sarcasm that he has, and he'd want them to be a little bit sadistic (for some reason))

If he could have a pet, it’d be a fruit bat

He takes a lot of inspiration from Rick Sanchez (from Rick and Morty)

He’s not good with directions

He can drive, he just hates doing so

He does not have a driver's license

Moon takes care of himself by taking a metal buffing drill and rubbing it across his face. He has a machine that cleans the rest of him (Unsure if this is only a New Moon thing, if Old Moon does it too, or if they both do it)

New Moon tended to/used to have a lot of sleepless nights, trying to relearn everything he knew from before he was reset, contemplating his mortality, how he could be reset, and wind up “dying” again

He’s been kidnapped by an evil version of Sun, who he described as being similar to “evil Morty” (<- an experience that New Moon had)

New Moon (after being reset), doesn’t know how he identifies. At the very least he’s ace, but he’s not sure about if he’s romantically attracted to people or not

Moon is a fan of Rick and Morty, and he thinks Rick is the smartest person in the universe

He gets angry whenever anyone says the earth is flat

Moon talks to the Devil from the Bible quite a bit and they get along

When having conversations, Moon prefers it when people are blunt and direct with him

When confronted with problems, he tends to either shrug it off or get angry

Part of his anger towards the situation with Eclipse being back stems from feeling inadequate. He thought he took care of an issue created by his past self (Old Moon), only to find out that the issue (Eclipse) was back, once again threatening his life and Sun's

There was a kid at the daycare once that wasn't scared of Old Moon. The two talked back and forth, and upon hearing that the kid's home life wasn't great, Moon decided to sneak out of the pizzaplex. He followed the kid home, saw what his home life was like, and he took matters into his own hands, wanting to help the kid. The kid didn't survive whatever Moon did, and Moon (before being reset) carried a lot of regret with him over that incident

New Moon recently bought a Chili's from Monty (implied, since Moon recently bought it and Monty said that they recently sold it)

New Moon turned his and Sun's garage into his "experimentation area"

New Moon makes and sells technology to the government, but he doesn't specify which government that is

Old Moon once ate someone (during the episode where he and Sun fought, and he wound up punching Sun)

New Moon knows the cure for cancer

Moon frequents a cannibal sushi shop in Japan where the employees all come to work in cosplay. The chef there is a furry/scalie (Unsure if this is New Moon or Old Moon, or both)

New Moon occasionally goes to some weird anime dimension to blow off steam or find some amusement. In this dimension, everyone talks like anime characters and they all have internal anime character dialogue that gets spoken out loud. Simply saying "wind bullet" or "bang" is enough to defeat them, as they believe they're actually fighting battles similar to what happens in various animes (essentially Moon goes there for anime battle LARP-ing purposes)

Moon has bad handwriting

Moon has always been bad with interior design

Old Moon is still very much present within New Moon's head/mind/consciousness (by the time this has been updated, the two have since separated)

It was on the day of Sun and Moon's separation that Moon's Whacking Stick™️ entered the picture

Moon doesn't know how to cook

After coming back, Moon didn't know what was and wasn't food, so he just went around licking things

Moon used to work for the mafia, and they were the ones supplying him with most of the things he needed to work on his projects

Moon typically tries hanging out with mute kids more, when the daycare is open

The genre of music he primarily listens to would be like rock, metal, punk, and things similar to those (he does enjoy pop, too)

Moon seems to be a texture oriented person with his foods

Moon feels slightly better when he's in the dark (physically, I'm assuming)

Moon creates backups of Sun nightly

Moon prefers white or vanilla cake over chocolate cake

Moon is agender

Moon tinkers with things when he's nervous and he makes little barbie sized mechanical dolls/action figures

[nunca205s-art-gallery]

THE THREE TIMELINES

2. DIVERSION TIMELINE (Reverse Portal AU)

Stan saves Ford but it ends up being him the one to get pulled into it (with the 1st journal).

[Rubs her hands] Now here's the good stuff. (You can tell this is my favourite timeline.) This timeline is basically my AU mashed up with the reverse portal AU.

–-–-–-–-–-–

After Stan gets pulled into the portal (mind you, he still has the burn), he manages to escape Bill (he just knew/sensed he was evil) and his minions. He hides in the asteroid shield, and then in an asteroid's crater, just like Ford. Then encounters the refugees, the people help him (by giving him the translator, and a recap of where is he, who is Bill, what is the multiverse and such, they also give him some equipment for survival and explain to him the basics of how to travel between dimensions. They also take care of his burn, but it will take time to fully heal). He escapes the Nightmare Realm and his travels begin.

Little facts and important plot points, cuz there's no way I'm redacting 30 years of dimension travelling:

His sole purpose is going back home, even though he has no idea of how to do it.

His hopes to return shatter when he encounters another Stan that got through the portal and tells him that their kind rarely ever makes it back (this would happen like, at year 2).

He almost takes his life that night, but he remembers what the Stan he encountered told him and decides to embrace this life, to live for himself and not to prove anything to anyone. (Even if he may not really think he's worthy of that, that his value relies on others' opinions of him.)

So he just wanders, looking for places to stay, but never for too long (2 years max). He's used to that lifestyle after all.

He comes across a few Stanford's too, some have better responses to him than others. He travelled with one for a while, but he died saving Stan from some bounty hunters (he has never felt more guilt over anything ever). He lost an eye here (year 6).

He's a criminal, but not a renowned one. He's a bit like a Robin Hood, but always looks out for himself first. He likes the idea of being a hero, or maybe something more like an antihero, so he helps people with small stuff wherever he goes.

He did contraband between dimensions for a while. (Deep down he hoped to come across his.)

He tried to rob the device they used to hop between dimensions, but let's just say he was lucky to leave alive from that situation.

He spent a lot of time in Lottocron Nine.

He feels glad that it was him that fell through the portal instead of Ford.

Sometimes he thinks about giving up, but he never does for too long.

He meets the Oracle at some point, they chill and become friends. (Bonding over future sight, she explains to him how is it that he got it.) (Year 14)

After 18 years he has a vision, a guy with what he says is a "portal gun". He gets super exited and thinks that he'll finally find a way to get back.

After a few weeks he encounters Rick Sanchez, he immediately knows that the guy is not someone you want as an enemy. They make a deal, Stan does (an extremely risky) infiltration mission to steal some info for Rick and he builds him a portal gun (and tells him how to make portal fluid).

Stan does it, and spends six months in a high security prison. He gets the info, starts a rebellion as a distraction for his prison break, gets out. (Rick helped him on that last part.)

He gets the gun from Rick and starts hopping between dimensions.

For the first time in forever he has hope.

Years pass, at some point he gets sick of it and just goes back to his old lifestyle for a bit. Then he steals some technology to identify dimensions and it helps him narrow down the number of places he has to go.

He has a list where he crosses the ones that are not the one.

More time passes (year 24), he encounters Rick again and he needs a favour. This time he has to get something some other criminals stole from him, some kind of alien biker gang.

They do it together this time and on the fray Stan loses his right arm. As a "sorry" Rick builds him a robot one (with a lot of secret little compartments, tools, and six fingers at Stan's request).

Time flies and suddenly 30 years have passed. And surprise, after all this time, he comes back home.

(He ages a bit slower btw, that might be because of the blessing or because the massive amount of portal hopping / multiverse travelling he did.)

What was Ford doing?

Getting depressed, that's what he was doing.

Running only by adrenaline, paranoia and an overwhelming sense of guilt (oh my god, he just killed his brother) he somehow pulled it off. Bro got an eureka moment and managed to get some unicorn hair to protect the house. Then,  after he managed to get some sleep he followed his original plan (it didn't go exactly as expected, aka, he didn't find anything at all except from the zodiac).

Not knowing what else to do a devastating feeling of hoplenessness came over him, leaving him on an almost catatonic state of depression. And since Bill couldn't do anything to him because of the spell he was just laying there.

And then, like the saving grace of god, Fiddleford came to the rescue. Or something like that...

He was going to make Ford stop by force, but when he got to the house and saw the state in which everything was in he was like "uh oh..."

He found Ford, and even though he was still mad at him he helped him. Ford told him everything that happened, continuously apologising to Fiddleford for not listening to him. Fiddleford was like "About damn time!!" and "I told you so!!".

So, Fidds helps Ford recompose himself, clean the place and find a way to get out of the shack without fearing Bill. (They find a sketchy doctor, BOOM, metal plate.)

They decide to stay low and not bring attention to the town.

They blow up the Bill cave, and get the 2nd journal away from the damn primary school (burn the Bill invocation spell).

(Ford forgot where the third one was.)

They start their own version of the mystery shack, but with accurate representations of the real stuff. AND a repair shop (that's where most of the money comes from).

They also work as protectors of some sort, a bridge between the normal world and the fantastical one. They look for signs of Bill's presence, more for security than anything. They also put barriers in other parts of town (the ones of unicorn hair).

They dismantle the Society of the Blind Eye (Fiddleford admitted that he started it, and that it was probably a bad idea). They discussed about breaking the memory gun, but they decided it could be useful in the future, so Ford hid it somewhere (he just put it under the floor on his room).

They seal the portal room, leaving it as it was. Fidds wanted to dismantle it, but Ford never let him (because of Stan this time, not the portal itself).

They heal, yippie!! Or something like that, Ford has to live with the crushing guilt of "killing" his brother; Fiddleford's wife divorced him and he lost custody of Tate. So they kind of only have eachother. (Fiddleford still has some memory problems, but nothing too serious.)

I hereby declare Fiddauthor canon in this timeline. (Even though I am more of a Fiddlestan gal.)

Bill decided to discharge this dimension, after all the portal is unusable and won't be repaired. He still has many dimensions to choose from anyway.

Years later the twins come for the summer and work on the expositions and tours. Dipper finds the journal, and the plot goes on.

The show begins:

The twins go to Gravity Falls to spend the summer, they will stay with their grunkle Ford and his colleague (wink wink) and work at their little museum. They soon find out that that's not the only thing their grunkles do.

A few days after they arrive (after Dipper finds the third journal) Ford takes them on an expedition as a bonding activity. He tells them that there's amazing things here, but there's also danger.

Ford and Fidds explain their purpose in this town, that they make sure that nothing evil gets to the town or the world. To make sure that humanity and magic stay apart and cool with eachother.

Soos and Wendy work there (at the same jobs as before, handyman and cashier at the giftshop). But Soos also works at the repair shop under Fiddleford's guidance (now Fiddleford has a son again and Soos has a new dad).

Guideon still is a menace in this one, but he doesn't have the book so he's not as dangerous as in canon. (At some point Fidds tells Ford "Imagine if you didn't dig out the journal at the school and this kid found it.")

Some adventures go the same, some different. Ford is more akin to Dipper, but Mabel has Fiddleford in this one. So it kind of balances it out. (And Fidds makes sure that Ford doesn't make Mabel feel left out, being a bridge between them and helping in communication.)

It doesn't take long for Dipper to realise who the author is (let's say, like a few weeks). And after being a bit indecisive (Mabel gives him courage) he decides to ask.

Fords admits that he's the author, and thanks him for finding the book. When Dipper asks for explanations about what happened (since he has read the journal two times already) Ford only tells him to not worry about it, that he fixed every back then (refusing to elaborate when Dipper insists).

Then he takes the journal from Dipper. The kid obviously gets mad at this. (This causes some resentment, and Dipper to be more secretive around the adults.) Ford tells him that is for his own safety.

Ford ends the conversation with the life lesson that he learned back then, that you can't do everything alone, you need family and friends in your life (the one he learned on the end of the show, basically).

At the end, this exchange causes a rift between Dipper and Ford, one that Ford isn't really aware of (and when he notices how the kid is not on board about doing nerd stuff together as much as before he feels bad, but he doesn't think it is anything too serious and that'll pass).

After the fight things are tense around the house for a bit, mostly because Dipper keeps making sharp and angry remarks at Ford (between other things). So there would be an episode about Mabel and Fiddleford trying to help so they can fix this.

It does help and things go back to being ok (but not the same as before, for Dipper won't idolise Ford anymore).

They still live adventures, with and without the grunkles.

Dipper starts his own "journal" out of spite. And to have a place to solve his own mysteries and record all the weird stuff on Gravity Falls. He sets himself the mission of learning what really happened thirty years ago. He noted down all the useful information he could remember about the third journal.

Everything moves on, and then one day Dipper and Ford were having another fight. Dipper and the others went did something reckless trying to find out the Old Mystery™ and got caught (maybe they went to the bunker, idk; but someone did get hurt).

So, they were all getting scolded, and Dipper was trying to fight back, when a small greenish opened in the middle of the kitchen and someone came through.

A loud beep reverberated through the room, Stan knew he was home.

The twins, Soos and Wendy kind of freak out and start asking who is he and such. Fiddleford has an idea of who it could be. And Ford is in shock to be honest.

Stan screams Ford's name and runs up to him to hug him. Ford stays still, in shock. He then lets out a fragile "Stan?", and his brother goes on to tell him super exited that he finally made it. After a rushed and almost incomprehensible (because of the speed in which he talks to and how he jumps to one thing to another) recap of what happened to him he pulls the first journal out of his backpack and gives it back to Ford.

–-–-–-–-–

I'm not sure how things go on from here, I haven't given it much thought. But I probably add more things to this one, at least more facts. Wether they are about Stanley's adventures through the multiverse, Ford and Fidds on the last few years, or the kid's in Gravity Falls.

Maybe even develop the relationship between the characters more, something like describing what everyone thinks of eachother would be good.

And now, I do have drawings for this one.

[ezolenta]

So here's Obito.

Kakashi.

Read more info ⬇️

Obito is a half-elf who lived with his family for two decades, helping them. I imagine it as a small village with friendly people. Happy childhood with his parents . Average cottage life, a small sheep herd, garden and a bunch of pumpkins.

His parents ran away so they can be together. (I like half-Senju! Obito too much). Senju is a human clan and Uchiha are elves who hate each other. Boom. Drama.

One night, there was an attack on the village. It was Uchiha, a young elf, and Warlock. He killed Obito's parents (Itachi is a different story, and it's very raw, so bear with me). Obito manages to survive. He found refuge in the form of an old elf paladin who helped him. (Of course, it was Madara's setup)

He trained Obito. He became stronger and made an oath with God of Justice (Tyr if you wish, but I'm thinking do not mention any of the DnD canon names and Gods), so he became a Paladin of Devotion. He began to travel the world saving people and helping them.

But at one moment when he needed help the most, no one came to his aid. He began to contemplate the world and the gods. A moment in which an event occurs in direct opposition to Obito's oath and his God's domain. It's simple, but such a traumatic event can make one view the gods as selfish, callous, and inconsiderate of mortal affairs that do not affect themselves - which in turn leads to disillusionment with oath. As a result, he broke his oath because the gods did not like that he began to pry into their dark affairs. (Canonical hatred of the Shinobi system and rules dnd style and without Rin's sacrifice.)

I can imagine Obito becoming Oathbreaker because he wants to achieve justice but in his own, wrong way. He claims that God betrayed him. Obito is blinded by power and his hunger for it.

Obito returns to Madara and tells him about that. He is agitated by the disappearance of his power. Madara tells that he has to make a new pact to gain powers. Thus Obito was lured into making a pact with the goddess who now gives him power in exchange for his soul. Obito kills Madara. He's now an Oathbreaker Paladin and Warlock whose Patron is a moon Goddess herself. (I wanted it to be a Tharizdun, The Chained Mad God, but changed my opinion. Tho still sounds cool) So Obito was tricked into a pact.

Obito is traveling the world and destroying the Cults. He's 62 when he met Kakashi in the woods, running from an Owlbear. They fight together, but Obito gets hurt. They return to Kakashi's camp. A bit of talking and my writing.

"The gods betrayed me." Obito growled. "They betrayed us all. They claim to be benevolent, but all they care about is power, status, and their own selfish gains." Kakashi was surprised by the paladin's disdain for the gods. It wasn't often that he met someone who outright scorned the gods, especially a paladin. "I see," he said, continuing to tend to Obito's wounds. "You're quite the blasphemer."

So Kakashi is also trying to find a local cult. They decided to travel together. (There's a plot!)

Obito looked at Wizard with a steely gaze. "I no longer align myself with the gods, nor do I seek their favor. I have become an instrument of my own destiny, and I answer to no one but myself."

But Obito does not even suspect that Kakashi is looking for a cult not just to destroy it. But that's a story for another time.

Here's some stats and info for character sheet list in my head for nerds like me.

8 14 16 8 12 20 (STR, DEX, CON, INT, WIS, CHA) Level 14 8 Paladin 6 Warlock Oathbreaker (Aura of Hate, Control Undead, Dreadful Aspect) The Great Old One Pact (Mortal Remind) Pact of The Blade (Binded Weapon, CHA based)

[complete-clownery]

my new OCs (both of them nameless)

This is actually how they look like

Hahaha yeah so now that I can finally talk about them (since they're still nameless I'm just going to call them Tarsier and Pygmy)

Here's little backstory for them and how they got to know eachother:

Both of them a street rats with no families,

Pygmy's been a wanderer since their childhood, they were found by a wanderer human woman who was traveling with her small troop, they took them in for a while but eventually left them in a random village the troop was passing trough, when Pygmy was around 10, they got fucked up over that obviously but adapted to the situation pretty easily. Now they're 26 and never really feeling the need to settle down anywhere, they just have to keep on moving for some reason. Oh yeah also Pygmy is born mute (maybe that's why they were left behind by their biological parents) they never learned sign language cuz there was no one to teach it to them, they got their own version of it tho,,, manedged to get them this faar, so that's good enough. They also like to keep a low profile

Tarsier is a bit different, he had a family. He lived together with his mother, but they were poor and after a particularly cold winter his mother died from an illness, he was around 6 years old at the time and now on the streets alone. He somehow survived living on scraps and learning the art of theft. Actually later on when he was 12 and a decent pickpocket some demon gang took him in, but due to complications (that he definitely did not brought up on himself) he had to leave the troop (more like flea). Now he's 24 and goes from village to village now being an excellent pickpocket and a snarky bitch gets in a lot of fucking trouble wherever he goes. he also doesn't know when to shut up, and has made a lot of enemies throughout his years (his extremely annoying too)

His first encounter with Pygmy was pretty funny too.

Tarsier took their wallet, tho not so long after Pygmy being just as streetsamrt as Tarsier is, noticed the missing purce and chased down Tarsier.

Tho Pygmy isn't really a fighter, they learned some tricks while constantly on the road, beat up Tarsier who is an even worse fighter (and massive coward), or more like was about to beat up Tarsier but he promised he would make up for Pygmys troubles by navigating them thought the particularly big village and getting them a place to sleep.

Pygmy was sceptical at first, but been dying for a real bed so they took the offer, tho they were rightfully sceptical cuz that night they got in trouble for breaking in an inn and stealing food, Tarsier obviously tried to put the blame on Pygmy, with no luck tho, cuz others have recognized him as a thief, so they had to run for their lifes

They ended up getting out alive of the village eventually. Pygmy was extremely fed up with Tarsiers shenanigans, but they ended up going in the same direction, also for some reason Tarsier decided that Pygmy is his new favorite person and stuck to them like a leech (much to Pygmys displeasure)

And I have no idea how did they manadge to warm up to eachother, but that happend and now they're sworn broths/siblings, partners in crime, trouble makers, fuck yeah

That's about all the info I can give to you about them