#hey what else are you gonna do while stuck in prison

[ckret2]

Chapter 76 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it. 

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not. 

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!" 

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know." 

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

 The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

First of all: I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BLOG literally can't stop reading yours posts!!!!

now, i want to know if you could do a headcanon with Jhonny or Bam, about their girlfriend doing a sex photoshot with all the jackass guys (something that involved a halloween special ep + playboy idk), and he GET REALLY JEAlous

anyways i love your blog. just it.💕

Playboy Photoshoot HC’s!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Y/N, Bam Margera X Fem!Y/N (slight Steve-O X Fem!Reader X Chris Pontius)

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, pornography, flirting, jealousy, awkward boners, taunting, possessiveness, leather, choking kink, praise kink, minimal plot, fighting

An: Thank you so much for the request and all the love!! What a start to my Halloween special ;) The costumes in this fic were inspired by the convict stunt that Johnny did, and fun fact: since the first movie was released arround a week before Halloween, this is all totally feasible! Ps. I completed more than one request for these HC’s , so see attached! ;)

That halloween photoshoot looked more like a frat party held in a Toys R Us than a legitimate operate run by Playboy, what with all the props and bizarre costumes

Not a typical set up, but they wernt exactly dealing with typical subjects…

You were dressed up in this sexy little leather number that was supposed to be a police officer’s uniform judging by the hat,

On the other hand, your boyfriend and his buddies dressed as convicts clad in orange jumpsuits, no tiny skirts or egregious heels to be found

You thought to call sexism on that, but part of you knew that if you did Chris would offer to wear the outfit too and match with you and he’d probably be able to pull that off.

While the others were fucking arround on the faux prison set, Johnny wandered over to one of the photographers, “Hey, anybody know where-?”

Coincidentally, that’s right about when you walked on set,

The second he saw you all dressed up, Knoxville got those big cartoon heart eyes and stuck out his wrists in a ‘cuff me’ gesture. Your heart melted

“Ah! You are just too much!” Giggling, you pulled him in for a hug, incidentally squishing his face in your boobs (thanks, egregious heels),

Not that he minded, nor the other guys, who were very not sneakily watching you two.

The cameras started flashing, and while you didn’t exactly know what to expect out of a porno photo shot, it certainly wasn’t this-

Sandwiching you him and Chris, Steve chuckled lowly in your ear, “You gonna frisk me, officer?”

Despite the obvious suggestive tone, he really only said it to be funny.

What else are you supposed to say when you’ve got your hands all on your buddy’s chick?

And while innocent as well, Pontius didn’t make the situation any better when he leaned over his shoulder from where he was squished up behind you and asked,

“Y’think I could try that on next? It looks great on you!”

Any guy would get pissed at this. Especially Johnny, who wants exactly the most open to you gettin’ felt up by his buddies

Sitting just off to the side, Knoxville was quietly fuming. I mean, there’s a fine line here, and those two idiots were getting pretty damn close to it.

Bam was about to nonchalantly kick flip over that line.

Given the setup and the leather and handcuffs and whatnot, things got, for lack of a better word, dominatrixy

Pulling Bam into an armhold with a prop baton for a couple shots, you really had no clue he would get hard before you sat down to straddle his hips

He didn’t seem like the choking type but hell, who are you to speculate?

Those orange jumpsuits did nothing to hide the obvious.

While making full on eye contact with Knoxville, he flashed him a shit eating grin and let out a taunting little groan, “Fuck…”

He knew he was screwed. Or more aptly, you were screwed

Like the discrete man he was, Johnny quietly pulled you away from the action and into a dressing room. Shutting the door behind you, he stood far too close,

“Y/N,” Knoxville leaned in and put his big hands on your shoulders, trying to keep his voice down as he explained, “I don’t like the way the guys’ve been lookin’ at you.”

Grinning, you poked fun at his sudden hesitance, “Cmon- It’s a Playboy shoot.”

This was your chance, Eyes glinting, you provoked him a bit, “What? You jealous or somethin’?” His lips straightened into a stiff line.

The sound of his resolve cracking, then breaking was nearly audible as he snapped, “Yeah, I’m jealous!”

Before you could spit out that he’s the one that asked you to do this, Knoxville pounced on you.

Wrapping you up in those gangly arms, his hands searched for any skin to find purchase on

It was brutal. Animalistic and angry and drenched in hormones; even you were a little surprised by it. Not in a million years would you think a guy like him had it in him

Not that you didn’t enjoy it. In fact, you enjoyed it a lot more than you’d care to admit.

Here you were in some dressing room, tugging at eachother’s clothes like you couldn’t get them off fast enough.

In the fervor, the two of you tumbled onto a couch, your hands fisting orange as Knoxville made his little bid for territory,

Burying his face in your neck, the air between your bodies was thick. Hands working at costume pleather, Johnny couldn’t fight off a grin at himself.

With a murmur, his natural ability to goad a reaction slipped through, “Yeah? Cmon- y’think Bam could do this?”

You knew it as well as he did- if Bam was in his shoes, looking down at you like this, that dipshit would’ve glued his boxers to his left leg the minute he walked in the room.

Shaking your head no, you let out a little gasp as Johnny roughly hiked your leg up on his hip

He chuckled to himself, eyes glinting as he murmured, “Atta girl…”

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 8 thoughts:

. . . . .

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

WHAT THE FUCK! WHERE DO I EVEN START? WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?

I just. I . . . WHAT?!?

Ok I'm just diving in, it's probably gonna be chaotic (hey, just like the Endbringer fight!)

Someone needs to give Scion like, a beeper. Get a tinker on that to make it an extra good one. Maybe it should be in bracelet form so he can't lose it? Fuck it, just give him an ankle monitor as well so we know where he is at all times.

I adore the shit out of Dragon and really wish she didn't run a fucking prison so I could like her even more.

Legend is not great at the pre battle pep talk. He doesn't lie to them sure, but that sure doesn't seem to help moral at all. Sometimes you just gotta go "lets fucking do this!" and start punching gods ugly middle child.

Seriously, he just keeps bringing the mood down. They probably shouldn't have let him do this after his villain "not boyfriend" died fighting an Endbringer, it clearly tore this man apart. (No this is not canon as far as I know and I don't expect it to be. But I took this "I have seen too many good heroes,” he paused for a fraction of a second, “And villains, too, die because they let their guard down." and just fucking ran with it. He paused cause he was chocked up because his rival that had incredible sexual tension with him got killed fighting an Endbringer. It's canon for me.)

Sucks to be Newfoundland I guess. Or sucked. Cause it ain't there no more.

I wonder if we get full death numbers for all the Endbringer attacks ever. Or even just how many attacks there have been. Obviously Kyushu and Newfoundland were extreme causality events. But Kyushu was Leviathans 6th attack, so they had at least started to learn how things work. It seems like the first few Endbringer attacks would have been massive. I dunno, I like numbers and I'm curious.

The fight holy shit it just keeps going. Everyone is fucking dying and it just keeps going. Skitter is doing her best in all of it and I'm proud of her. Providing medical aid when she can't figure out what else to do. She's a good egg. Look for the helpers.

Tattletale just gets washed off a roof and I have to spend the rest of the fucking arc waiting to learn if she is ok! I was worried about my baby! Not Skitter, my other baby. No not Bitch, the third baby.

Early on I said "throw Clockblocker at him". And while that didn't exactly happen I am glad that I had the right idea. Too bad they didn't use the timestop grenade after that instead of before though, could have just stuck him in time for a few years. Kicked the can down the road as it were.

Look at Skitter being the one to get someone to save Clockblocker too. Everyone is there but she is the only one that noticed he was drowning. She is very good at seeing the details. Saving his life is a fair trade for the whole bug thing at the bank.

At least a lot of the Nazis croaked during the fight. That's a small bonus.

Of fucking course Magic Stick Batman tried to plan this all so he gets to have the big final fight and be the hero. Let a bunch of people die to do so. No surprise at all, this guy has been an asshole since day 1.

On the note of him though, more like "Armmaster" now! Eh? Ehhhhhhh? Cause, cause see, Leviathan ripped off his arm. So now he only has one arm. Instead of two. An 'arm' instead of 'arms'. See? You get it.

AND THEN WE GET SKITTER GOING BACK IN TO THE SHELTER TO FIGHT LEVIATHAN 1 ON 1 TO SAVE CIVILIANS. "Which left me only one thing to do.  I had to be better than Mr. Gladly." FUCKING LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT MY AMAZING DAUGHTER! SHE IS THE BEST OF US!

AND THEN SHE TORE LEVIATHAN A NEW ASSHOLE! LITERALLY!

And then he just fucking breaks her back and she starts to drown.

AND THEN! AND THEN AND THEN!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BITCH! BITCH PULLS HER OUT OF THE WATER RIGHT BEFORE SHE DROWNS! JUST COMES OUT OF NOWHERE AND SAVES HER GIRLFRIENDS LIFE!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

And then all the dogs die. And I got very sad. And very mad.

Fucking Scion finally shows up, the last two dogs die after he gets here but he doesn't really try to move fast enough to save them. I spent like 10 minutes just swearing up a fucking storm at this guy for not coming sooner. I'm pretty sure the Endbringers are his fault anyway. Fuck this prick.

And after all this Skitter has to deal with being cuffed up in a hospital! WTF guys. Rude.

I really feel like they should just pass some laws to prevent capes from suing hospitals during events like this so the hospital staff can actually talk to people. Seems like it would make things a shit ton easier.

Panacea is in love with her fucking sister isn't she? God dammit girl. You are definitely going to end up as a villain and a really fucked up one too.

I fucking LOVE that Taylor escaped the handcuffs by using her bugs to get a key and everything! She is so fucking clever, I love the shit out of her.

Sophia is Shadow Stalker I FUCKING CALLED IT! FUCKING HA! (See Arc 6 thoughts). Also more proof that the heroes are shitheads.

I loved watching Tattletale absolutely god damn CLOWN on Armmisser. Uses his password to get priority access. Just completely reveals all the shit he pulled. Fucking Legend laser blasts him when he tries to attack her, amazing. I will never not love to see this man get clowned on.

BABIES BREAKING UP? EVEN IF JUST FOR A CHAPTER? NO!! BABIES BE FRIENDS FOREVER!

The dogs names carved into the monument. Just. Fuck. I cried. A lot. They were the bestest puppies. They were brave. They were strong. They were good. They mattered.

Interlude 1 thoughts - I loved getting some Lisa PoV. She is possibly my favorite and getting to see her power from her perspective was fun.

Interlude 2 thoughts - Coil is a horrible horrible human. I've established that. But oh my god I would read an entire book from the perspective of someone with his power. I love the shit out of powers and abilities like that I dunno. Just my absolute favorite.

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

L.

______________________________________________________________

Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: I'm back again with another chapter!! Just a preemptive warning tho, I'll be posting one more and then taking a break to process the events of season 2 cuz it's just around the corner and I need to figure out if I'm gonna add it to the fic or ignore it and continue with my own cannon! Anyways I hopa yall are as exited as I am for it!! :]

previous chapter: Fourty ninth chapter

next chapter: Fifty first chapter

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

“What do you think you’re doing! Stir it!” “Oh right! Sorry, sorry!” “You better be!” Lyra rolled with her eyes, but let out a chuckle, before smacking you over your head. “HEY!” “When you’re cooking, you have to pay attention! Don’t daydream or get distracted! Food is a delicate art and it requires careful handling.” “You sure don’t mess around do you?” Lyras lips turned into a small proud smile and she nodded. “I want everyone in here to have a good time at least once a day, and I can do that with my cooking! I know I don’t have the best personality when it comes to comforting people and stuff, but I can give them a good time by making food. I mean, you know the saying, food brings us all together, or something.” “I’m not sure that’s a saying but hey, I was stuck in a prison for most of my life so what do I know?”

The pot filled with food was held tightly in your hands as Lyra smacked some kitchen utensil hard against a pipe near the dining table. “Everyone! Dinner’s ready!” You placed the pot onto the table and turned back to go grab plates and the cutlery while the other Firelight members gathered around the table and took their seats. Lyra helped you give everyone their plates and once the table was fully set, they started to put the food you two, though mostly Lyra, prepared. After some time, Ekko came to join the dinner too. He looked tired and his face was dirtied up, his face paint smudged and carrying a wrench in hand still. The board he was fixing must’ve been really messed up this time, okay, noted, don’t let Fae touch the hoverboards again.

“Hey everyone, have a good day?” The leader said and sat down too, putting some food on his plate like everyone else, while sparing a smile towards your way and then fully focused on his food. Lyra closed the distance between her and you and poked your side with their elbow. When you turned your face towards her, her lips were turned into a sly smirk and they raised their eyebrows at you. You let out a sight and rolled your eyes, but your face changed its shade to red in the subtlest way possible. “You’re not gonna eat? We, well, I worked so hard on it!!” “What? No, I’m gonna eat, I just, well, you’re still standing too.” “Oh yeah good point, let’s sit down.” Lyra grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards an empty place, getting plates for the both of you. “You better stuff your face with my food!”

… “Don’t worry ‘bout it! I’ll clean up with the kids, you go have fun! And you better not be a coward ya hear me?” Lyra pierced you with her eyes and shoved you away. “Uh huh, yeah sure, I’ll try.” “Well then why are you just standing around here, you’re in the way! And that goes for you too kiddos, you ate and now it’s time to clean up!” You scoffed with a smile at Lyras intensity and started walking away, waving at the kids now stuck cleaning up. The light of the day was slowly but surely disappearing as the night took its place, maybe a little night rooftop stroll could be nice? But then again, you haven’t taken up any tasks in a while from the place that Felix showed you. Oh maybe hanging out with him could be fun too! “And I thought I’d be bored today, I never realised there was so much to do!” You whispered to yourself and continued strolling around the Firelight hideout, your eyes fixed onto the ground.

“Hey [reader], you with us or have you travelled into outer space?” A familiar voice rang through the air, making you snap out of your head and return to reality. “Oh Ekko… Hiiii.” You said and looked up to meet his gaze, reminding yourself how messy of a state he was currently in. Maybe the hoverboards shouldn’t be destroyed on a weekly basis. “Promise to not ruin your board for at least three weeks okay?” “Oh yeah that, I’m sorry.” Heat rose into your face, next only because you felt really bad for putting more onto this poor boy's plate, and you shifted your gaze back towards the ground, ashamed. “Nah it’s aight, but ya know, I’d prefer to spend my time differently to be honest.” “Yeah I know, Lyra chewed me up for it already.” “That’s good, at least I don’t have to ey?” Ekko replied and rested his elbow on your shoulder.

“So, any plans for tonight?” The boy asked you, while you two walked back to his work room so you could pick up your board again. “No, not yet that is. But probably nothing using the boards though. You?” “Yeah, that checks out. Well I don’t really have a plan either, but I’m probably gonna just take some time to relax.” Ekko opened the door and pushed you in, following right behind you. The events of your past interactions and talks with other members however made you extremely aware of each time this boy touched you in any way. And you felt yourself heat up again. Why is this happening?!

[thetinylittlespider]

Tearing Up: Season 1

Chapter 9: Curiosity at rescue

CW: Mature language, dehumanization.

A.N: Finally we got into the good part! Not gonna give details ofc, but the worst has finally passed. UwU

For now...

The night at the city was something that I've never looked forward to. But during the rain, the whole idea of walking aimlessly was a bit more attractive. People usually stayed at home, and the authorities let their guard down since there was no people to threat or scare. A perfect time to focus on myself without worrying about anything.

That...would've been the case this night...If it were not for what I found. Something that made me stop like if my feet were stuck to the concrete of the ground. It laid there, motionless, but still breathing...

ーWhat th-...What are you?ー I was completely frozen...Never in my life have I ever seen something so...Small.

"Way to end the end the night, Emma..."

I've heard about fairies before, they went extinct a few years ago, when the hunt for magic by the government got increased. But the more I looked into the creature, the less it looked like a fairy, it had no wings.

I crouched to get a better look of it, it was wearing a full bodysuit, it was orange like those of a prisoner. But how is it possible that a prisoner can be stored this small? I have no idea. The body of the creature was mostly covered in mud, and its hair was a mess. Along with some traces of...Blood? Of his own perhaps?

Before doing anything else, I reach my hand to the little figure on the pavement, and poked him with my index finger, just to pull my entire hand away in a second...I just wanted to test if it was dangerous, if it attacked me in response. But it only gasped for air once more as the water level increased thanks to the rain. It was too tired to even move anymore...Poor thing.

I scooped it up from that little puddle, carrying it carefully between my hands. Where its cold body remained unresponsive, but the tiny movements on its chest was enough to confirm it still had a pulse. Gosh...I didn't knew what was this, or how such a thing found itself on such state, how did it managed to come all this way here? Why come out?

Questions with no answer, if I called the authorities, it was likely that they would start experiments or outright kill the creature...I knew. Maybe the best idea...for the moment, would ve taking it home, see if it recovers. Yeah...That sounds way better...

3 hours later...

I placed the creature over the nighstand in my bedroom, I was not sure of what kind of food this thing liked...so a piece of bread and a cap of water would have to do the trick...if it wakes up that is. For the moment, cleaning the body a little bit was the best I could do, at least I got rid of the mud covering half of its face...Heh, with a better look, the tiny creature was actually cute, like a little sleeping beauty. Unfortunately, this state was probably produced by everything but something nice.

Shit...What if it panics? Should I place something on top of it? A cup? Maybe use tape on the torso? I didn't thought about this well...Damn.

And before I could manage to find a way, or an object to prevent any rash attempts to escape, the tiny figure opened its eyes, I could see the little head of the creature moving, looking around, scanning the entire room with confusion and then, eyes widening...Not making a move...

ーH-Hey!ー I said while lifting a hand in a friendly manner...it remains in silence. ーJust...don't move, I'm not sure if you are hurt or...ー It darted out of the nighstand...it just rushed towards an edge and jumped off. Was I actually that frightening!?

Regardless of that I couldn't let that thing get away and get hurt! Not that it was actually a way out, both my door and windows were closed, so I just had to catch it before an accident happens...

ーAre you trying to get yourself killed!?ー I said almost jumping towards the side of the nighstand...hands ready to safe the creature from falling...but it never touched my palms...it was sticking to the side of the nightstand...his back and palms firmly touching the wood. Scared...Chest moving fast due to quick breathing, and watery eyes holding back tears of despair...

"Please...D-Dont hurt me, I'll go back to the cage j-just don't shoot me!."

I was out of words...it could actually talk...and, begged for mercy? Cage? Shooting!?

Just what did I just found out there? Or...now that it seems to have a brain...Who?

ーI'm not going to hurt you...You fainted on the street, and I tried to take care of you.ー I said softly, slowly getting closer, trying to position myself in a way that could be easy to catch him now that he stayed stick to the nightstand. How could he do it? Another question for when the moment calls for calm.

He seemed nervous, he locked his eyes on me, desperate, confused, his face alone told me that for him it was strange that someone could show some type of nice gesture, such as helping. If he was not human, then what were his views on humanity? Who were trying to hurt him? Or..."cage"...he got imprisoned, at least once.

ーC-care?ー He said for a second, before moving a hand and pressing on his stomach...His face shifted to that one of slight annoyance. Was he...ーH-Hungry...ー

Yeah...Exactly what I expected.

ーI have some bread...on the top of the nightstand, water too...Ehm, so, you might wanna go up...Could you let me just...ー He gave me a confused look again, but this time after I mentioned the bread...He even tilted his head a little bit, as he didn't knew what it was. Of course another thing I should've expected...

When he started crawling on the wood structure, he kept facing me, like if I was ready to try something against him... but it fascinated me the ease in which he moved...Did he had some sort of sticky body? I doubted it, or else I would've felt it when I brought him home. He also didn't seem to have claws...He seemed pretty much human in my eyes, just...a little, tiny human.

My excitement to ask what he was exactly came to a stop as soon as he grunted, apparently the hunger was getting to him, he lost his grip and slipped the wooden structure. We both released a little yelp at the moment, my heart almost fearing a fall like that could hurt him...So I placed my open palm below him, quickly preventing him from spending more time on a free fall.

ーWoah! A-are you okay there buddy?ー Besides a fast and intense breathing, along with a shaky body that laid its back on the palm of my hand...He didn't seemed to be hurt in any way by the fall, and for that I gave a sigh of relief. At least he didn't try and jump off again.

It was weird...when I carried him for the first time he was motionless, unconscious...Now, he was breathing, shaking...Placing his little hands on my palms, and I could sense every single and minuscule movement on them...It gave me little tickles, but this was the worst time to overreact to those things...last thing I wanted to do was scare him more.

Slowly, I stood up, and I gently rested the hand were I carried him over the top of the nightstand again. Waiting for him to move towards the food. But his little body remained on my palm.

ーIs that...Bread?ー He asked curious, pointing a the piece of bread that I left for him and looking up to me, I just gave him a smile and a nod to answer...And that was enough confirmation for him to run towards the food, smell it like a wild animal...and then give it a bite, that turned into multiple. He did look like he was starving for a while.

It took him a few minutes to eat the whole piece of bread, little bites that began as quick and chaotic as those of a piranha now got order, became slower, and he seemed more composed by the time. I did also managed to see some sharp teeth while he had some bites...Those were fangs, similar to those of a vampire...

ーThank you...Sorry I was...Jumpy earlier. I just...It's been a rough month.ー He said while taking in a deep breath, he seemed far more agile with his words too. And to be completely honest, it was better than having him talk like a scared caveman. But ... WOOW ... I did not expect THIS. ーYou are human...aren't you?ー The question seemed a bit obvious, but it wouldn't hurt to answer...And it was also a great chance to present myself! Get to know him and what he was!

ーYeah! I'm a human! My name is Emma Blackwood! I would love to know what ar-I mean, I would love to get to know you!ー I can't believe I almost fucked that up, I picked him up out of curiosity, anomalies are not usual anymore...And our "glorious leader" wants to erase any chance of other anomalous entities existing in his perfect kingdom of concrete and metal. I wasn't about to lose my chance to meet something so fascinating, hand him to the government and let him die! But I also had to remember this thing...this person, was aware of the situations around him...at least for the most part. I could not treat him like an object or a mindless entity.

ーHuh...That's...Interesting.ー That was all? No introduction? Rude! And he just...did he just placed his face on the water cap!? Okay...fair, he is probably thirsty. And for the looks of his messy hair, and the state I found him...Plus the mention of cages, he might have been imprisoned, his clothing also said so. Maybe manners were the last of his concerns.

But I refused to stay there in hopes that he remembers how to introduce himself, I might have to force him a little bit, right? We can call it a "guidance" into regular interactions, and for the looks of it, he needs it.

ーAnd you are?ー I asked with an inviting tone, I had to force the conversation on him...

ーMe?ー Don't point at yourself, of course I mean you! You are the only besides me in the room!

I give him another confirmation nod. He remains quiet for a second as a few tiny drops of water fall from his face.

ーI am number 9.ー Short...Soft spoken. Hurt. Why he had a number instead of a name? ーIs that your name? 9?ー

He looked at me, eyes wide open, shaking again, this time playing with hiw own hands...nervous, for what he may have taken as disappointment.

ーC-Complete designation is KU-M9...ー That was worst...was that a code? If he was an anomaly, and he was captured...why did he required a uniform? Why they didn't kill him? Fuck, more questions.

ーOkay, let's go for something easier...What are you? You are clearly not human...Are you related to fairies?ー Those creatures went exist after being hunted down a few years ago, I would not be surprised if a few handful of them remained alive...

ーNo...sorry...I am no fairy. I-I actually don't know what I amー That sends the fairy theory out of the window...But not even himself knew what he was. If he knew the same as me regarding his nature, we had a problem. ーCould you tell me what happened to you? What were you doing on the streets alone?ー

At least this could lead to somewhere...So far, I had a creature who could climb surfaces like a bug, with no idea of what he was or how did he functioned...And with enough evidence to be looked out for by government authorities.

But...Again, he didn't seem dangerous, he was more scared of me when he woke up than I would ever be of his true nature...Whatever it was. And if humans were the cause of his troubles, I could get why he acted so defensive, his first instinct was escaping, not fighting.

He took seat in the middle of the nightstand, as I just wanted to be close to hear his answer...I kneeled to get a close look at him, but as soon as my body got closer, he flinch...He had let me close before, but now he was scared again? Maybe it has to do with the explanation...I had to respect his space for now...understand what was going on in his head.

ーSorry...Sorry, I won't get closer...Please, do tell me what happened.ー

[to be continued...]

[animation-recaps-by-sean]

Gravity Falls Beyond the Woods Chapter 15

Dipper and his children learn the truth.

<- prev next->

The clone paced around his prisoners. “Stan’s party,” Dipper said. “ The clones I made. But they all died.”

The clone wagged his finger. “Not all of us. We were the ones who stole Robbie's bike. Remember.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Quattro! You look good. You haven't changed.”

It was true. His face looked like Dipper’s did when he was twelve. Although, he looked far more faded. “No I haven't.”His suit started making willy noises as steam emerged from the breast plate. The chest of the suit opened, and the clone walked out. It was Dipper when he was twelve complete with shorts and vest. “I remember the first time you and Mabel came back. The second summer. It was barely a year, but you both were so…tall, Mabel lost her braces, and you had Wendy’s old trapper hat. You had it longer than this old thing.” He gave his hat a tug. He looked down at his tiny hand. He opened and closed it. “I…We didn’t age. You just grew and grew while I was stuck as the awkward twelve year old.” Without the helmet, he spoke in his young cracking voice of a twelve-year-old. But there was a cold bitterness to it.

Rose noticed something. “Two of you stole Mr. Valentino’s bike. Right?” She turned to her father for confirmation.

“Tracy, I think he called himself.”

Quattro was silent for a moment. “Do you know what it's like to look at your own face on someone else everyday,” he whispered. “To be reminded that you are not you. He was gonna kill me. I had to do it first. I had to. He made me.” His voice was pleading, despite. “But it's okay. I don’t need him. I never did.” From an unnoticed corner he pulled out several cardboard cutouts. Stan, Soos, Mabel and Wendy. Even Pacifica and Ford. Crudely drawn. He took the Mabel one and shook it around. “Hey Dipper, long time no see!” “Yeah dawg. Wanna see me test a ramp I made.” Rose and the others looked on in terror. He moved on to the Ford and Pacifica ones. “Yes, indubitably.” “Whatever.” “I was made before you met them. I don’t really know what they're like.” The clone admitted.

Dipper could feel the terror coming from the kids. At least his first encounter with the supernatural was with goofy gnomes who didn't even know what marriage really meant. But Rose, Tyrone, and the others tripped right into the deep end. Out of all the times Dipper had almost died, this was the scariest. So he thought it was best to get right to the point.

“What do you want?”

“I want my life back. I've been stirring the pot so to speak. Attacking the fairies, getting the government involved. All to get you back in here in good old Gravity Falls. Of course I had to promise the men in black something in return for delivering you to me.” Quattro threw back a pair of dusty curtains. There was the statue of Bill Cypher, hand extended.

“Cypher. Quattro, I don't know what you think you're doing but you can't trust him. He's using you.”

“Well, let's see what he has to say!” The clone grabbed Bill's extended hand. Everyone shouted in terror, but nothing happened. Quattro removed his hand. “He didn't say anything. He can't. He's just a statue. If the government wants to waste time on a hunk of rock, that's their prerogative. As long as I get you brother.”

Dipper gritted his teeth. “Well, you have me. Let the kids go.”

“Eh, I didn’t want them here. The faye got them involved. But they've seen too much at this point.”

“And whose fault is that?” Spat Tyrone.

Dipper sighed. “Why do you want me?”

Quattro ran his hand over the wall. “Do you know this place father? I have been told you’ve been here before.”

Dipper took a second look around. “It's the ship.” It was the place Ford was almost taken that first summer. Where they glued the riff containment.

Rose's eyes lit up. “The ufo!”

“UFO stands for unidentified flying object. A) it's not flying. And B) it's identified. It's a spacecraft.”

“Regardless. Stanford and McGucket mined this place for parts for their inventions. The carpet, the mind ease gun, the photocopier that made me. We found this place hiding from the rain. Just a drop of water could maim us, or even kill us if it hit the right spot. But that won't matter soon. With the right tools, I've been able to make this!” He pulled down a shagged carpet. “Once I get this baby working like the original. I'll get to be me again.”

“You’re stealing my body.”

“Steal it, dump you in the rain and watch you melt. Once I'm you I'll wipe the brats memory. Easy peasy.”

“Okay. Quattro, I can only imagine how hard everything's been for you. Listen, I can help you find a new life.”

“I DON'T WANT A NEW LIFE, I WANT MINE! You, you can't understand. You who got everything. You found the author, who was a relative, you're a respected paranormal researcher.”

“Respected is a strong word.”

The clone held Dipper’s arm. “Look, are these muscles? How did we get muscles?” Dipper thought about the variety of near death experiences that lead to his current physical state. “You even got Wendy! WENDY! You don’t get to pawn me off when you got everything you ever wanted. I, I miss Mabel. I miss my mom. And I will get them back!”

Wendy Was driving around the back roads when Puck appeared in her front seat. She nearly hit a tree as she came to a stop. Wendy reached for her ax when Puck raised her hands.

“Peace, peace. Why would you hurt your friend?”

“Friend? You took my daughter!”

“That was the Queen's orders. Couldn't disobey those. And it was your own people who took your husband. But I know where they are. They are both in the same place.”

Wendy narrowed her eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

“Well, I can't do anything to make you believe me. All I can do is tell you and the choice to believe will be yours.” Puck leaned close to her ear. “They are where the metal star hit the Earth.” And with that the imp was gone.

Wendy rubbed her eyes. If Dipper lived through this, she was gonna have time fairy proof the car. Metal star…Like a meteor? Or like a…Ship! She remembered Dipper excitedly explaining about how he and Stan 2 explored a crush space from like the paleozoic era or something. She backed up onto the road. ‘Don't worry’, she thought. ‘Mama's coming.’

[alyssaswrld999]

Argument and make-up treatment is always amazing - Daryl Dixon x reader smut part 2

Dear Diary,

Talk about being pissed off I mean definitely not me right now. Yeah well turns out daryl has the audacity to yell at me for going to get supplies for the group. But then again I can see why he is pissed at me I mean I did go out alone out there by myself. With the governor out there still lurking in the shadows waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill all of us.

Oh my gosh! I'm a total asshole I mean I was the true asshole of this fight me and Daryl are having. I could have been killed out there and I tell daryl to fuck off because he was worried about me. I'm such a jackass to everyone. Maybe I should talk to someone for advice but I think the only one I can go to that is understanding to Daryl and that knows Daryl better then I do is... oh shit!

I slam my diary shut and realize what I need to do. I need to talk to Merle. I know I know it sounds crazy but it's my best option I mean I really don't feel like talking to Maggie or Rick about it or anyone else. And besides me and Merle need to talk anyways so why not.

It's day time still so that means Merles awake. Now I just need to wait for my watch to be over but technically I'm stuck right now. Bingo I see Glenn on his way over right now. Good so that means my shift of taking watch is over. Now I just have to get Merle alone while avoiding the younger dixon.

I make my way out of the watch tower and tell Glenn I'll see him later. I make my way into the cell block and thank goodness daryl is nowhere around. I see Merle in the little cell he stays in. "Hey Merle can we talk... in private please" I asked. Merle looks over and sees me. He grins at me and stands up. "Sure thing sugartits I know a place follow me" Merle said.

I followed Merle to the boiler room of the prison and he made himself comfy near the work desk. "I need advice Merle and your the only one I have to ask for this particular advice" I said. "Well I'm flattered you think that sugar but I know you didn't just ask me to come down here and speak to you for just my opinion so spill the beans" Merle said.

"Daryl and i had a disagreement and I need advice to make him not pissed off because I need to apologize to him for being a jackass to him earlier" I said. "And let me guess you need my help because I know my brother a lot more then you do" Merle said. I nodded as a yes to what he said.

"I have no problem with that but just for pure deals what do I get in return" Merle said. "You will get a chance to live another day here with me and Daryl and the group where you are fed and taken care for I mean if it wasn't for me and Daryl you would be dead right now" I said.

"Is that right sugar" Merle said smirking. "Yes Merle" I said. "Ok well pure honesty my brother likes you and clearly loves you and the best way to get him not to be mad anymore was to be honest and ask for forgiveness and then take the lead and show him a great time" Merle said.

"Is sex always the answer Merle really" I said. "I know my brother he might hide it but he isn't gonna turn down meat like yourself" Merle said. "Ok thanks Merle I think we are done here" I said walking out of the boiler room.

I make my way back to cell block C and into my cell. I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands. Suddenly a knock is at my cell doorway and I look up and see Daryl.

[thefunkyspoon]

Two Seconds Away

We met on Findr, funnily enough. It's terribly difficult to balance college, writing, _and_ flirting with Benji. I wouldn't trade it for the world, though. I mean- this is my dream, right? I'm starting a novel, I'm _doing stuff_, and I'm gonna have a loving, gay husband soon! Well, forget the last part. My bestie always says I get ahead of myself.

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Maggie chirps, spooking me. I yelp, and flinch away just as she moves to swat me. "Huh? What?" I say, looking at her. I have a habit of getting stuck in my head, like it's a pink fluffy prison with my favorite band (Dill and the Cunts) and lovie-dovie scenarios.

"Idiot. I _said_, do you wanna go out?"

"Where?"

"Starbys."

"You're paying." I relent, and get up off my bed. I search for my shoes, yellow sneakers, and slip them on.

Soon enough, we're walking down the street to the nearest Starbucks, and I'm constantly wrapping myself around my wife. A lot of people think we're dating, or that I am hopelessly in love with her, but that's just not the case. I'm a naturally clingy person, and also, I get cold way too often. I'm jealous of Magpie's metabolism. If only it didn't hurt to sit down.

Well, it might help if I stopped referring to her as my wife or grabbing a cheek while she's walking. But atleast I don't grt the cops called on me because I hardly pass as a man. A blessing, but mainly a curse.

*Ding!* Goes my phone. Well, it's really a buzz, because we've moved off of Findr and into Lapchat. Must be Ben.

Benjamin:

*'hru'*

I'm bored out of my mind, sick of playing shooting games with my little brother. He's garbage. Fortunately for me, this cutie I met always replies. Soon enough, I get a *'good! getting coffee:)'*, proving my point. He's always getting coffee.

"Get out of my room, Tater Tot," I huff, shoving my little brother. He defends himself by biting my shoulder, so I hit his. "Moooom! Ben hit me!" I decide not to correct him on being called Benji instead, because he used to call me Mira.

Mom doesn't answer, probably too busy reading her beloved cookbook or watching Jollywood movies.

Me and Alec rarely call. I don't know what he looks like, but I have an idea. I'm hoping he's not secretly an old white man. But I don't *think* he is. I don't know anyone above the age of thirty who likes Hatsune Miku. Or who sounds so joyful all the time. I wish I could see his smile.

I remember to text him back, and decide to send him a selfie of me smiling with a thumbs up. I've been told I text like a father. *'that's good. I gotta go do dishes now'* the caption says. I don't really *have to*, but I know that Al will stop everything he's doing to talk to me, and I'm guessing he's out with a friend because he doesn't seem like the type of person who goes out alone.

Plus, no one else in this hellhole does them, and Pa says I'll need to have initiative if I ever want to have a good career. As if I don't work at their grocery store. Good thing

So I climb down the stairs, kicking a stray sports shirt with my foot, and dodge Ravi and Ryan. "Don't get in my way, rats!" I call, as if anyone ever goes to the kitchen. Bella makes a disgusted sound, as if I'm an old boomer.

Alec:

It's fine, I need to hang out with Mag anyway. I've been ghosting her too often, even though we share a dorm. I'm forever grateful for that. "Why do you even talk to people online? I bet they're all in their fourties." She chastises, making me laugh.

"They are *not!*! I've literally seen his face," I argue, knowing we've gone over this a million times and it gets us nowhere. "can I have some of your drink?" I plead, staring longingly at her drink.

"No."

"Please? I'll love you forever and ever!"

She relents. "Fine. You better," she says. I take a small sip, because I'm a benevolent and kind person. Obviously not because she'd kick my ass.

"Hey, how's class going?" She asks, making me grimace. "Oh, you know... going."

She sighs. "You're doing great. Your writing is great."

"Everything's great!" I chirp, grinning. To prove it, I start skipping. Magpie groans and runs after me, grabbing my arm so that her fingernails dig in. "One day you're gonna get hatecrimed and I'll be glad," she jokes.

I balk at the woman, before cackling. "Asshole." I mumble, but stop my aggressive silliness. A few passerbys stare at us, but I just laugh.

"Y'know, Ben is really great. Honest. I mean, he's hot, he's funny, he's... nice. I like him." I try, smiling. "Gay."

"Shut up."

We start the walk back to campus, bickering as usual. I've known her most of my life, and sometimes I forget that she isn't my actual family. The weather is a bit chilly, but Maggie refuses to wear a jacket. I mean, I'm not wearing on either, but atleast I'm wearing a very warm sweatshirt.

We go to Cornell University. Honestly, I didn't think I would get into such a school; I had always assumed I would go to a community college or whatever.

"So. Does he like vocaloid as much as you?" She asks, and it takes me a second to realize she's talking about Benji.

"Oh. Um, not really. He likes country." Maggie makes a disgusted face. "*Country?* Why do you talk to him? I thought you said liking shitty music was a deal-breaker."

I groan. "It's different, okay! It... fits, for him. Also, it's not like he's super conservative. He's pretty leftist for a country enjoyer, I think."

"That's because you met him on Findr." Good point. But I can't let her have the last word, ever. "Not all gay men are leftist, Mag!"

I almost walk past the main entrance, and the taller girl grabs my sleeve. "Are you blind?" "Kinda."

We spot one of my friends, Chloe, and say hi. She's a sweet girl, but I don't know her super well. I love her though, she's really a great person. I've known her since middle school, but we've never been that close. It's a happy suprise that she goes to the same college as me.

*Ding!* I grab my phone, half-expecting it to be some shitty news story. Me and Ben have moved from Findr to Lapchat, and I only have vibrate on, so it all sounds the same. But no, it's a picture of Ben, shirtless. He's grinning, looking super cheesy. I feel my cheeks heat up, and zoom in.

Wait.

Are those... scars? I swear I can see the faintest of scars right below his chest, but it's hard to tell. I decide not to question it. It's none of my business.

Benjiman:

I've finished cleaning up relatively quick; I'm used to it with a mother who wants me to be a good "employee." With my door locked, I decide to send Alec a picture. I barely send him thirst-traps, and when I do, they aren't much. To be honest, I don't have much experience. I waited till I passed as male to date, except for one person, and even when I did pass I kept my sex life pretty bare.

He replies with a *'Hot (0-0///'*, which makes me chuckle to myself. He's a pretty big nerd, like me, but he's much more open about it. Meanwhile only my close family knows. It's not like I keep it a *secret* from people, it's just... it doesn't come up. Not to mention, I don't want death threats. I pass as male, so what's the point of saying I wasn't?

In response, he sends me a picture of the Hatsune Miku he got last Christmas. He's showed me the doll atleast five times. *cutie;]*, I text. I'm talking about the figure. To be honest, I don't really know what he looks like. Sure, I know his hair is light brown, and he's white, but that's about it. He doesn't feel comfortable sharing what he looks like. I don't really mind it. I don't know where he lives, which, obviously. Who would tell a rando from the internet where they live? To be honest, I've had dreams that he actually lives really close, and one day while I'm walking we'll make eye contact and I'll be like *"hey, are you Alec?"* and he'll be like *"Ben?"*

He's younger than me, I think. Still in college.

Plus, it's not like he's the only one I talk to. It's not like we're dating or anything. We started talking, when, June of last year? Not that long ago. Speaking of, I should check up on June. She's one of my closest friends. We dated for like, two weeks in college, until I found out both of us were gay. Well, I'm bi.

*Hey*

*hiiii*

She's always been a bubbly person. I haven't talked to her in around two weeks, which isn't that bad, considering my history of ignoring people when they text me, or just never reaching out.

*hru???* she asks. *I'm good! And you?:)*

The contest continues for what seems to be three minutes, until she Lacetimes me. I'm not surprised to see her new hairstyle. Her usual hairsyle is cornrows, but now she has two puffy balls on each side of her head, adorned with cute charms, stars, and other trinkets. I don't know much about Black hair, but I know that hers is gorgeous. I try not to be too gaudy; I think it makes me look too feminine. I hate being feminine.

But I think such prettiness is expected to be treated with sqeauls, so that's what I do. Well, I don't, I say *looking good! Damn girl*, giving her a show of looking around the screen. But I think it has the same effect. She's a thick girl.

"Oh, you like? That's good, babe." She says with a loud, boisterous laugh. Most of what she says borders on flirtatious, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. Sure, she has a girlfriend, but it makes me feel... unsure. Part of it has something to do with my family and their wholesomeness, but I think most of it stems from Alec. "Yeah, um, sorry, I actually just got caught up in something. Can we talk later?" I say, and when she agrees, if not a bit hesitantly, and hangs up. I feel a little bad; I rarely talk to her nowadays, and I love her. Platonically.

I like him so much, that I barely hook up with people anymore. Even though he's in an entire different state, and it's not like we're official or something. But he's amazing. Crazy smart.

I remember that I was just talking to him- well, text him, but whatever. I press the facetime button, hoping he'll answer.

*"Hey, what is it? Havin' a good day?"* he says. His camera is off, as usual. I'm a bit surprised that he answered at all, considering he's spoken extensively on his hatred of calls. "Hey! Yeah, I'm doing good. Just, uh, got bored. Whatcha doing?" I respong with a slightly nervous laugh. I scratch the back of my neck. *"Hey, who's that?"* a strangers voice say, not far away from what I can hear. Then, *"Oh, is that the guy you're sexting? I wanna talk to him."*

I cackle, and wave, hoping the person, who I think is a girl, sees it. "Yup, it's me. I hope."

"Nope, he's actually been fucking a bunch of others, too. You're lucky he's even talking to you." The college student says with a hopefully mock-serious voice. My expression sours, but I try to real back my feelings. "Joking, joking!" She assures. "It's nice meeting you. What's your name, if you mind me asking? Al talks about you alot."

"Maggie. And you? I'm *pretty* sure it's Bob, but, you know." I guffaw at her. "It's Benjiman, actually. Hey, can you pass the phone back to Alec?"

I wish I could see his face right now. "Hey, uh, whatsup?" He says. I shrug. I've since changed into a shirt, as video calling without a shirt and sending photos without a shirt are too very different things, and I'm not sure we're that close yet. Maybe someday. Soon.

I laugh boisterously, as usual. I've been compared to a buff Santa a couple times. "Good. Is that the best friend?" I ask, just wanting to confirm.

Alec:

I nod, before realizing that he can't see me. While everyone tells me that I pass really well, I can't help but feel like I still just look trans. Not that outwardly looking queer is *bad*, it's just... I want to be safe. "Oh. Yeah, that's her."

*"Lemme in! Ben-Bob!"* a voice sqeals in what I think is the distance. It's coming from my phone. Oh.

I know that Benjiman has a pretty big family, or, well I can guess. But I've never seen them. I'm pretty excited.

*"I'm talking to a friend! Later!"*

*"Do you hate me?! Agh!"*

Benji looks at the camera pointedly. It makes me laugh; he's so stupid. I love him.

**Two Weeks Later...**

Benjiman:

So, this is it. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror for what must be the fifth, sixth time in the past thirty minutes. I comb over my hair with the comb my dad gave me when I was nine and groan in frustration when it flops exactly where I *didn't* want it to go.

In three hours, I will meet the boy I've been *talking to* for the first time. In person.

I sigh, trying to calm my nerves. I'm just like my dad in that way, trying to feel better no matter the situation. I'm a pretty confident person, so this shouldn't be a big deal.I don't have a car, so I'll take the subway. I don't need a car; it's too much hassle. I've the habit of monologuing when I'm stressed since I was young.

I'm going to run late if I spend any more time preening. I stomp down the stairs to the living room, and grab my coat. "Where are you going?" My Ma asks. "I've told you, Ma, I'm going out with a friend." I answer. While I know they support me, I don't want to cause excess drama.

Before she can talk herself in circles about the dangers of people online, I walk out the door.

Soon enough I'm crammed between an elderly man looking absolutely *dapper*, and a dude with a bright blue mohawk. I decide to text Alec, even though I really don't have to. I've already texted him more than necessary. Do gifs count as texting? I put on my headphones, click on Hotify, and turn on my rock playlist.

[fleetstreetpies]

Anyone else notice that it’s standard practice for employers to Irish exit on potential employee candidates when the candidates don’t get the job??

Like yeah. I got forced against my will to apply for MULTIPLE front-facing customer service positions recently by my grandmother who does not comprehend agoraphobia or that I’m disabled or anything. Multiple customer service jobs, which I do to some extent have a semi-okayish mask for (I can usually do the basic “Hi! How can I help you?” or “Hey, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get started for you?” stuff and handle questions about product because that’s a basic script and while that is in fact INCREDIBLY draining it’s more possible than a lot of other jobs socially).

And all companies except one had the nerve to never call or email me back after saying they would get back to me in three or four business days. All of my applications but one got the old duck and run treatment. Ignorance is corporate bliss or whatever.

The only company I heard back from was Starbucks, whose hiring team sent back a very polite rejection letter (I very likely have EDS and use a cane a lot of the time which means I wasn’t a good fit for the job anyway; my hand was literally forced for that one). Starbucks. The notoriously bad Starbucks that has had debates and controversies about unions and using the prison industrial complex to its advantage. They were the only ones polite enough to actually say no.

I say this because I know a lot of people are asking why places are so short-staffed all of the time and why nobody wants to work.

We do want to work. I may be a cane (soon to be forearm crutch) user, but I am capable of working still and I want to work.

The only glitch in the plan really is that employers won’t get back to us. No call back, no email, no acceptance or rejection, nothing.

I get it, you want good quick service in a clean environment with relatively friendly people wherever you go. But that isn’t gonna happen if employers work their current employees half to death and intentionally ignore and Irish exit on potential candidates. All that does is perpetuate cycles that ultimately hurts the employees and customers alike (and eventually that catches up to the business and the business goes under). But the business (whether big or small) could start by actually taking on some of the applicants and not Irish exiting on everyone else.

Like nobody owes anyone a “why you got rejected” letter or anything; just a polite email saying “We regret to inform you that you have not been selected for the position. Please feel free to send in other applications to other locations or to seek other options. Thank you for your time.” THAT IS LITERALLY ALL THAT YOU HAVE TO SAY.

I do believe that employment in the modern sense and the global economies in the modern sense are all major scams and have MASSIVE flaws (I view myself as completely anti-money and pro-equitable distribution but being stuck and forced to survive in a late-stage capitalist/neofeudalist hellscape) but god damn all the ethics issues aside for one minute I think the big thing employers could do better is actually just be polite and responsive.

Tldr: your employee candidates aren’t bad tinder dates; don’t fucking ghost them.

[carterthompson]

TW: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, DEATH (READ WITH CAUTION)

As soon as the news hit that Alara was found dead, Carter knew who had done it. He knew that this wasn't anything random, this was the work of the man he left in charge. This was Harrison. It didn't take much for Carter to plan his escape out of the prison, no one took him seriously there. He was merely just the idiot who followed his girl like a lovesick puppy, he was never any real threat.

His first step outside of those walls was meet with an evil grin as he was meet by his long-time best friend, Izzy. They had been partners in crime ever since he had moved to this town. Izzy was always someone he could trust, so when he decided that Harrison had to die, Izzy was the one who had his back even if it meant betraying Izzys Shadow partner now.

All leading up to the day of, the day that Carter would send Harrison to the same place he sent the love of his life. Pulling the hat down to cover his face as he shoved his way through the crowd at La Vela, he couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself as everyone was too absorbed in their own drama to realize an old friend was back in town.

Pulling the cap off his head as he entered through the now opened door, he tossed it to the ground beside him. "Thanks for that welcome, buddy." He tapped the side of Izzys cheek with his palm with a smile, turning to focus directly on Harrison as he walked in closer. "Someone has been a naughty boy, haven't we Harrison?" The same smile still stuck to his face as though he had officially lost his mind.

"You killed her. You took her from me WHEN THAT WAS NEVER THE PLAN! You were to leave the people I told you to leave alone and everyone else was free to die, but you just couldn't listen, could you?" His voice growing louder the closer to the other he got. His movement to grab the knife out of the back of his pants was quicker than Harrison would have time to react. It moved so smoothly across Harrisons neck that Carter had to savor the moment for a second when he had finished it. Holding the other up as the blood started to spew.

He continued to hold Harrisons head with his hands, the knife still in his hand, he looked softly into the eyes of the other. Watching the life drain from his eyes, he placed a kiss to his forehead. "Tell her I love her when you get there." Dropping him completely to the ground, titling his head as he watched the blood pool onto the floor. "What a mess." He chuckled, hopping up onto the desk where he kept staring at Harrison while twirling the knife in his hands.

"Thanks for this, Iz." He finally ripped his eyes away from the scene on the floor beneath him. "You're gonna like prison, don't worry." Ignoring the fact that he had completely left out the part to the other that he had informed the police just before entering of exactly where he would be and exactly what was going to happen. Carter was going back down one way or another, but he wasn't going to go alone this time.

When the door swung open, he expected it to be the cops. He figured that this was the end and he'd go without resisting. He had done all that he needed to do; Carter didn't care where he ended up. Anywhere was hell without Alara there anymore.

But instead, he was met with a familiar face, one that he had missed dearly. The smile returning back to his lips as their eyes met each other. Just as he was about to open his mouth to give a "Hey, Dally." She was pushed aside and the police of Hidehill came rushing through the door. He dropped the knife to the ground and threw his hands in the air, laughing as they shoved him into the wall and placed the cuffs around his wrists.

closed: @izaiahwheatley

location: La Vela back office

Harrison made his way through La Vela to Andi's office as requested by Izaiah, slightly puzzled as to why and even more annoyed at the timing. He'd finally been hitting things off with Paisley at the bar when he'd gotten the text. Come to the office, it's urgent. What could be so urgent? There'd been a plan in place, he thought they were solid on the details. Maybe not. Turning the doorknob to the office, Harrison peered through the lowly lit surrounds to find Izzy standing idly in the corner. "Hey, I got your text. Is everything still good to go? What's so urgent?"

[sparrow-stunned]

In the series my overbearing dragon father since darling and Beisht are basically being each other's therapist they should invite azhdaha to the group of the few people Zhongli has affected that are still alive especially since Zhongli had the nerve to ask him about being sealed I can just imagine the drama about him they would all share with one another like

Azhdaha: you do know Morax asked me if being sealed was comfortable because he thought about sealing you away to protect his own delusional mind focusing in on the past

Darling: what 😀

Beisht: why is that not surprising at all

Darling: does he really not like the idea that I'm grown up now that much I mean I know he doesn't like the fact that me and Venti have the whole nature is our home thing going on either but really

Beisht: you are only living in nature because you're husband clearly can't even pay for his a bar tab let alone a house

Azhdaha: wait barbatos can't even pay for all the alcohol he gets

Darling: that's not the point guys

oh archons, can you just imagine the level of pettiness in the room between beisht and azhdaha?? just like the two of them shitting on your dear old dad, really, really meanspirited talk, while you're sitting there like 👁️👄👁️ "that's my dad guys"

also, they would totally be the type to bring up zhongli's dark history—and i'm not using the word dark in the way you think it is. it's not all of the sus things he's done throughout his reign as rex lapis, it's all the embarassing things you don't remember or haven't witnessed.

azhdaha: ugh, he's always on and on about stupid osmanthus wine, i wish i could drown him in it. "where are those who share the memories" hello??? i'm right here

beisht, just cackling: why does he like to act so old, we're the same age but it feels like he's the one with the ten types of arthritis?

azhdaha: also did you know zhongli's face gets all sour whenever i bring up guizhong, haha. i haven't even met her but he's soooo affected by it

beisht: oh yeah, i've seen osial taunt him about her, it's so funny. ugh like get over it already, it's been what, 4000 years? *eye roll*

darling: that's my mom you're talking about🙃

azhdaha/beisht: *deadpan stare* yeah, we know

also, whenever you bring up venti, azhdaha and beisht whisper to each other or give each other this look

darling: venti wrote a song for me yesterday, isn't he just so romantic? *sighs, all starry eyed*

azhdaha & beisht glancing at each other

azhdaha, whispering: didn't he write it while drunk?

beisht, also whispering: yeah, that's what i heard from ping while she came yesterday to gossip with me. do you think morax's spawn has been dropped too many times on their head as a baby? if so, i would have thought the rock-hard skull inherited from morax would have prevented their brain cells from dying.

azhdaha, shaking his head: like father, like child. look at morax—isn't he also like this? there's no cure for stupidity unfortunately.

[crystalcow]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

[luminnara]

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 2

AN: I’m splitting episode 3 into two chapters because so much happens. 

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: Despite your protests, Bucky seeks out Zemo (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 5,196

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language. 

You watched Bucky as he sat beside you on the aircraft. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky’s side eye didn’t make you look away. 

“I’m just trying to see what’s going through that head of yours.” You confessed. You were all on your way to Germany to visit Zemo. It wasn’t a plan you were happy with but it was the plan. 

“Don’t bother.” Bucky frowned, looking down at his hands on his lap. “And don’t ask me if I think this is a good idea again.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” You turned away from the man.

“What was it then?” Bucky asked. 

“I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted to do this.” It was another question you had already asked 20 times or more but you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of anxiety about this trip. 

“She has a right to be worried, Buck. The last time you were alone with Zemo, you ended up putting (Y/n) through three windows.” Sam reminded you both of what happened the last time you were in Berlin. 

“It won’t happen this time.” Bucky tried to reassure you both but you still felt uneasy. 

After another hour or so Sam announced that you were almost there. 

It was a short drive to the prison from the airport but once you were inside, you felt your chest begin to tighten again. 

“He’s just through that corridor.” The German guard gestured up ahead and that’s when Bucky stopped you. 

“Alright. Give us a sec.” Bucky instructed the security guard before turning to you and Sam. “I’m gonna go in alone.”

“Why?” Sam asked, 

“You’re Avengers. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky said as he looked between the two of you. 

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together.” Sam felt he needed to remind Bucky of the past again. However, Bucky stood his ground. 

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history together. Trust me. I got it.” 

“Buck...” You started, 

“I got it.” He repeated himself before you could say anything else. 

You watched Bucky head through the doors alone. 

“Let’s wait outside. This place gives me the creeps.” Sam encouraged you to follow him to which you didn’t do without hesitation. 

Sam brought you a hot drink as you sat on a bench outside. 

“I forgot how worried he can make you.” Sam admitted as he sat down beside you.

“I’ve seen what he went through, Sam. All of it leading up to Zemo. I just... I don’t want it happening to him again.” You knew you couldn’t explain the extent of why you cared for Bucky. 

“You love him.” Sam said. It wasn’t a question but rather a statement. “I can see it clear as day. Anyone could if they stuck around long enough.” 

“Why are you bringing this up, Sam?” You sighed, looking away from him. 

“Because it’s also obvious that he loves you too. You run around driving each other crazy with worry but you have none of the good stuff that comes with being in love with someone.” 

“What do you know about love, Don Juan?” You chuckled as you tried to lighten the tone.

“I know it when I see it.” Sam smiled but there was a sadness behind his eyes. 

“Things are complicated, Sam.” You muttered, “You already know that.” 

“Well I also think that if Bucky got some he’d be a whole lot less angsty all the damn time.” You knew Sam only said it to make you laugh but you still gave him a whack for the comment. 

“Shut up, Sam.” You shook your head, trying not to smile at the inappropriate comment. 

Sam kept you entertained by a couple of silly games of rock, paper, scissors before Bucky returned. 

“Come on, I got some information. We gotta go.” Bucky hurried you and Sam along. 

“Just like that?” You were surprised that Zemo even spoke to Bucky at all. 

“A location. I’ll explain everything once we get there.” Bucky wasn’t giving you much information and it was making you a little suspicious. 

“Hey, hey, hey...” Sam ran after Bucky, stopping him. “You gotta give us a little more than that.”

“Zemo agreed to help us after hearing that there were more super soldiers. It was his life ambition to stop the winter soldier programme and he’s given us a lead.” Bucky explained. 

“And you’re just gonna trust his word?” You probed. 

“There’s not much else we can do.” Bucky did make a point. 

It didn’t take long to reach the large warehouse/garage that Bucky wanted to go to. 

Bucky on the way had started rambling about breaking Zemo out of jail in order to help you guys which sounded ridiculous to you. 

“Tell me you’re joking, Buck.” You pleaded, unsure whether he had lost his mind entirely. 

“He’s our best shot at finding who is making the serum and he’d be a lot more useful out than in.” Bucky opened the door to the building and you followed him inside.

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam was just as lost as you were as he shot questions at Bucky. 

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing.” Bucky sighed as you made your way in with your flashlights. 

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars.” Sam argued. 

“We also have eight Super Soldiers that are loose.” Bucky retorted. 

“Anyway, I thought this was a lead?” You tried to look around but the place was badly lit. There were mainly mechanic tools and lots of storage scattered around. 

“It’s complicated.” Bucky frowned.

“What’s complicated is Zemo. He’s gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offence.” Sam shone his flashlight at Bucky as he spoke. 

“Offence.” Bucky didn’t look impressed as he found the light switch. “Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code.” 

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you. He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question. They didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.” Sam stepped closer to Bucky. You couldn’t deny that Sam had a point. Zemo was the one who tore the avengers apart by framing Bucky.  “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are.” Bucky couldn’t give up. “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I?”

“What did you do?” Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky. 

You were busy looking inside the car that was revealed by the lights coming on. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Bucky shook his head before he continued with his ‘hypothetical’. 

“The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.”

“So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment? Who knows?” Sam questioned. 

“There could be many reasons…” Bucky shrugged. “But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated, and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two.

At this point, you stopped looking around and looked over at Bucky with your arms across your chest. You weren’t liking how thought out this plan was sounding. 

“And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated someone could use the chaos to their advantage.” Bucky continued. 

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural. Are you… And where are we, man?” Sam gestured around the place with confusion locked on his face. 

“Bucky, I’m with Sam on this one. I’ve got a bad feeling and–––” A door opening behind you cut you short. 

You turned around to see Zemo walk through the plastic door curtains. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sam jumped forward instructively. Bucky managed to stop him but he didn't stop you. 

You rushed towards Zemo and held the tip of one of your knives to his Adams apple as he held his hands up. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam shouted at Zemo before snapping back to Bucky.

“I didn’t tell ’cause I knew you wouldn’t let this happen.” Bucky admitted. 

“What did you do?” Sam pointed at Zemo in shock.

“We need him.” Bucky stated to which you chuckled harshly, pressing your knife a little harder. 

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam called over. 

“If I may..? “ Zemo tried to speak but you all shut him up with a unanimous ‘No.’

“Apologies.” Zemo mumbled. 

“(Y/n), put the knife down.” Bucky came towards you and wrapped his hand round your wrist. “Please?” 

You did. Slowly. 

“Look, when Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me. I’m asking you to do it again.” Bucky looked back and forth from you to Sam. 

“I really think I’m invaluable.” Zemo spoke again. 

“Shut up.” You rose the knife again to which Zemo took a step back and pretended to zip his mouth shut. 

“Okay.” Sam sighed after a moment of contemplation. “If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded. 

“Bucky... You understand what this means right? If they find out we took Zemo, specifically you. We’ll be on the run again and I don’t know if there will be a pardon this time either.” The concern in your eyes made Bucky frown. 

“It’ll be alright. He's the only shot we got to stop these guys.” Bucky wasn’t sure if he believed his own words but he was praying that this was the best thing to do. 

“Alright.” You turned to Zemo. “So where do we start?”

Zemo gestured for you to follow him before taking you into another dark room. You kept your knife in your hand just in case.

He reached for the light switch to reveal a mass of classic cars. 

“So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam cocked his eyebrow at the impressive collection.  

“These are mine. Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers.”  Zemo entered one of the cars and pulled out a bag. “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished. To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started.” Sam told the man.

“First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” Zemo took his bag and headed into another room. 

“Jesus... How big is this place?” You looked around to see it was full of clothes. 

“First I change and then we head to Selby.” Zemo placed the bag down before filing through one if the rails of clothes. 

“How are we supposed to get anywhere with Zemo on our hands? We can’t exactly call Torres and ask for a ride but please ignore the fugitive that’s coming with us.” You looked between the boys. 

“I will get us there.” Zemo told you. 

“Great.” You pressed a fake smile onto your face which Zemo chose not to acknowledge.

Before you knew it you were at the airport at Zemo’s private jet.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam’s eyes went wide at the sight of the plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” Zemo spoke as if it was well known information. You felt a pang hit you in the chest, it happened every time you thought of Sokovia... it was guilt. 

You watched Zemo greet an elderly man in a suit before you entered the jet. 

You sat furtherest away from Zemo, still feeling very uncomfortable about him being free and under your custody. 

You watched him sip on a glass of champagne like he had no worries in the world. 

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That’s right you do.” Zemo reminded you of the time Tony had locked a lot of the avengers up. 

“Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?” Sam suggested. 

 “I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” 

Before you could blink, Bucky had lunged forward and taken Zemo by the neck.  

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky kept hold of Zemo for a second longer before sitting back down. You had fought the urge to get up and take hold of his arm to calm him down.  

"I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo made no attempt at a sincere apology for the invasion of privacy.  

“Don’t push it.”  Bucky warned him.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” Sam smiled as he thought back on the memory. 

“I like ’40s music, so…” Bucky shrugged. 

“You didn’t like it?” Sam seemed more shock to hear this than when he saw Zemo. 

“I liked it.” Bucky proclaimed. 

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.” Even Zemo had to get involved. 

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.” Sam turned back to Bucky after giving side eye to Zemo. 

“I like Marvin Gaye.” Bucky repeated. 

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” Sam couldn’t drop it but you didn’t bother getting involved. 

You looked at the book in Bucky’s hands. You knew Steve had given it to him before but seeing it again after all this time brought up a hundred thoughts. You remembered the many things you had told Steve to watch or eat or listen to like ABBA, Mochi ice cream and pranking him by suggesting the twilight movie as must see. 

“You must have really looked up to Steve.” Zemo mentioning Steve made you look up again. “But I realised something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.”

“Watch your step, Zemo.” Sam warned him. 

“They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right?” Zemo looked over at Bucky. “As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” 

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.” Sam asked but you already knew of Madripoor. Anyone with links to the underworld of crime knew of Madripoor. 

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky informed him. 

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo looked down at his duffel bag of clothes that you had watched him pack before.

“What do you mean by that?” You finally chimed into the conversation. 

“James will have to retake the person of the Winter Soldier. You both will have a role to play also.” Zemo explained, turning to face you as you sat in the chair by the back wall of the jet. 

“Bucky, can I speak to you privately?” You looked past Zemo to Bucky. Bucky gave you a look to ask where would you go so you stood and opened the cabin toilets door. 

Bucky huffed before following you in.

“Bucky I’m not okay with this.” You whispered as you pressed yourself up against the wall so you could try and fit both you and Bucky a little more comfortably. 

“This isn’t up to you.” Bucky sighed. 

 “Everything about this situation is making every nerve in my body scream this is a bad idea.” You folded your arms across your chest as you stared up at Bucky. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that this is the only plan we got?” 

“I don’t trust him.” You kept your voice low as you threw your hand up in the direction of the door. 

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked. 

“I’m starting to question it.” You muttered. 

Bucky just stared at you in response. 

“Yes, I trust you.” You grumbled, caving in. 

“Anyway I have you if things go bad.” Bucky tried to make light of the situation but you weren't impressed. 

You left the bathroom and remained silent until you drew closer to Madripoor. 

Upon your arrival in Madripoor, you were handed some clothes to change into. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You held up the small material dress that you were meant to wear. 

“I had to choose a disguise that would cover your face. Too many people here would know you from your days before the avengers and after.” Zemo defended his choice of ‘costume’ for you. 

“So I’m assassin barbie?” You scoffed before taking to the bathroom to change. 

You slid on the black leather playsuit and boots, along with the mask that Zemo gave you. 

You felt exposed and uncomfortable. You managed to hide a few knives in your boots and you slid on a thigh holster to hold some more to make you feel like you were protected at least. 

“Loose the knives.” Zemo instructed. 

“Are you serious?” You were growing more agitated by the minute with this man. 

“You are playing an escort. You can’t have knives on show.” Zemo pointed to your holster. 

You bit down on your cheek as you removed it. 

“Fine.” You then left the plane to Sam and Bucky waiting outside. Bucky’s eyes went wide at the sight of you but he tried to hide it by clearing his throat and looking away. 

“We have to fix this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” Sam was wearing a red patterned suit and chains. He didn’t look too bad in it either.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Zemo handed Sam his phone revealing a picture of Conrad Mack.

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.” Sam took the phone and looked down at the picture. 

“(Y/n) is playing your partner for the night. Conrad is known for his appreciation for the finer things in life and often has a woman on his arm Therefore, (Y/n), you must be attached to Sam’s hip the entire night.” Zemo filled you all in on the reason behind your disguise. 

“Excuse me, what?” Bucky almost choked at the idea of you having to be Sam’s woman for the night. 

“Well it is the only disguise that makes sense. She can’t be your girlfriend as you are the Winter Soldier. She can’t be mine as everyone knows I am loyal to my wife. She has to be the smiling tigers current whore.” 

“Watch your mouth.” Bucky hissed. 

“We all must play a part.” Zemo defended his choice of words. “You smell this?”

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked. 

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” Zemo gestured across the city as a car approached you all. 

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” You sighed as Zemo opened the car door for you. 

“Not if we want the answers we are looking for.” Zemo climbed into the car after you and then the boys followed. 

It didn't take too long to find the way to low town. You had been to Madripoor before but it had been years ago. 

You did as you were ordered when you all exited Zemo’s car. You stuck by Sam, walking in the middle of Sam and Bucky. 

The air wasn’t cold but it felt thick, you could feel it sticking to your bare skin which gave you the desperate urge to take a long shower. 

“Here we are.” Zemo had brought you to a bar. It was busy and filled with a lot of men.  

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” You heard Zemo ask Bucky in Russian. 

You heard whispers around you questioning if Bucky was who everyone thought he was. It made your gut clench with nerves but you didn’t let it show. 

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender greeted Sam and Zemo but barely brushed a glance over you.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo spoke for Sam. You then felt Sam wrap his arm around your waist. You leaned into him, batting your eyelashes first at Sam and then the bartender. 

“The usual?” The bartender asked Sam. He nodded, afraid that if he spoke then it would give away the facade. 

You were thankful you were wearing a face mask when you saw the drink made for the Smiling Tiger. You grimaced at the dead snake being cut open and then again when one of its organs was dropped into Sam’s shot. 

“Ah, Smiling Tiger. Your favourite.” Zemo picked up his own drink as he looked down at Sam’s. 

“I love these.” Sam forced himself to speak. 

“Cheers, Conrad.” Zemo and Sam touched glasses before Sam hesitantly shot back the drink. You could tell Bucky enjoyed watching that. 

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.” A man suddenly approached from behind and tapped Zemo on the shoulder. You felt Sam’s grip on you tighten protectively. 

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” Zemo held his hand out to show his new bodyguard. 

“New haircut?” The stranger looked Bucky up and down. 

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo gave him the other option. The man retreated. 

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky spoke once the stranger had left.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked. 

“Only by reputation.” Zemo admitted honestly.

“In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner. You can’t visit low town without appearing on his radar.” You spoke up as you let yourself look around the room and take in just how many threats were around. 

“And you know this why?” Sam looked down at you. He must've forgotten your past. 

“I was a free agent before the Avengers. I've been here undercover a few times especially when I was a young teenager. Surprise Surprise evil guys like little girls.” You kept quiet in case anyone around was listening. 

Zemo suddenly spoke a command for Bucky in Russian once again and that’s when another stranger put his hands on Zemo. 

You watched Bucky follow orders and he didn’t hold back. 

He grabbed hold of the strangers wrist and pulled him off Zemo before attacking him and several others around. 

You took notice of those around with their phones out. Cameras...

You went to step forward when you felt Sam squeeze your side. He gave you a look that told you no. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo muttered to you and Sam. You wanted to punch him. 

Bucky slammed another man onto the bar and that’s when you heard the wave of guns cocking. 

Sam took hold of Bucky’s arm when Zemo told him to stay in character. 

Instead Zemo told Bucky to stand down once you were informed you could see Selby. 

Sam took hold of you hand and dragged you along side him as you all left the bar. 

“She isn’t welcome.” One of the guards stopped you before you could enter the room. 

“Excuse me?” Sam scoffed at the guard. “She’s with me and so she is welcome.” 

“Let her in!” You heard an English accent call from ahead. 

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby was an older woman with a white pixie cut and a sly grin. Sam remained stood and so did Bucky but Sam had commanded you to take a seat next to Zemo. 

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo was impressing you by how cool he was playing this. It also worried you. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?“ Selby asked. 

“People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby ignored Zemo as she eyed up Sam.” What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”Zemo had risen from his seat and held Bucky by the chin. 

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank...Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.” Selby fed you what she knew. 

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned. 

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby pushed herself from her seat and walked across the room. 

That’s when Sam’s mobile went off. 

“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby ordered. The gun behind Sam made him pull out his phone. 

“Hello?” He answered. 

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” A woman’s voice came through. 

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam tried his best to keep up his persona. 

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” The woman’s attitude was not helping Sam’s case. 

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.” Sam demanded. 

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” Sarah snapped back. 

“The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much...” Sam chuckled. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?” Sarah asked. 

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam tried to seem intimidating but at that moment you knew you were screwed. You reached down into your boot to take a knife just in case. 

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.” Sarah had used Sam’s name and that was the end of it. 

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Selby looked pissed. “Kill them!” She ordered but before her hired men could react, a bullet came through the window and shot Selby down. 

You snatched two knives from your boot and sent them into the guard behind Sam. 

Bucky immediately reacted with taking out the other guard. 

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” You took the knives from the body as the boys took the guns. 

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo’s order made the boys put their guns down but you just wiped your knives and placed them back in your boot. 

You left the club in a hurry. Text chimes went off around you and you knew the power broker had seen what happened. 

You were well and truly fucked. 

“This is not good.” Zemo’s last words before the shooting started. 

You took off alongside Bucky and Sam, cursing the fact that Zemo had put you in the most uncomfortable shoes on the planet. 

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam shouted which almost made you laugh. 

“Down here!” You took a turn into an alley to get off the road as two mopeds appeared behind you. 

Before you could spin around to fight, a shooter had taken them out. 

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo looked just. as confused you felt. You weren’t aware you knew anyone who was in Madripoor at the moment. 

“Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo.” A familiar face soon revealed itself from the shadows. 

“Sharon?” Sam furrowed his brow at the woman. 

“You cost me everything.” Sharon ignore Sam as she spoke to Zemo. 

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam stepped ahead of Zemo to protest him. 

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.”Sharon glowered at the four of you. 

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked the question on everyones mind. 

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.” Sharon informed you.

“Don’t blow smoke. Both (Y/n) and I were on the run, too.” Sam didn't bother with feeling pity. 

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” Sharon shot back. 

“Listen, Sharon, we need your help.” Bucky interrupted her before she could say anything else.  

“Please.” You added. You and Sharon were friendly for a time before the world went to hell. You figured she’d help you at least. 

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.” Sharon sighed, giving in and lowering her gun. 

“Thank you.” You pressed a small smile onto your face but Sharon didn’t reciprocate. 

She managed to get you to a car safely and you headed out of low town for the night. 

(PART 3 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tag List 

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16 @shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch @thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts​ @themaddies-obx​

[elizabeethan]

look in the mirror (and cry)

Part 6 / 7

Summary: Chrissy survives Vecna’s first attack, just barely.

Season 4 rewrite wherein Chrissy survives and Eddie is a soft worried angel

Author’s note: Eeee... sorry. But!! one chapter left and it's sappy and disgusting. 

Rated M

Read the rest

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Things

Get added to my Hellcheer fic tag list

Tagging: @sotangledupinit​​​​ @klauscarolove​​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​​ @k-leemac​ @lonelyspectator12​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @caught-in-the-filter​ @enchantedlandcoffee​

~~~~

“You can’t– you can’t be here right now, man,” he tries, keeping his voice as steady as he can as he raises his arms. 

 “What the hell have you done, freak?” he asks. His voice is startlingly low and calm, like his anger runs so deep that it isn’t even at the surface anymore. It rushes like a forceful current beneath everything he does, and Eddie can see it in the way he crouches beside Chrissy and puts a firm, too-tight hand on her shoulder. 

 “You– You need to leave,” he tries again. It’s no use, and he knows it. Jason is like a wild animal, something big and deadly like a grizzly or a lion, and all Eddie can really do is try to keep him calm so that he doesn’t attack. 

 But then he starts shaking her, too forcefully for the fact that she’s under a trance and too forcefully for someone who supposedly loves her. “Chrissy!” he calls, and Eddie panics. 

 “No! No, man, you can’t touch her right now,” he begs, but Jason puts his hand on her back and tries to still her as she rocks back and forth, and Eddie can’t stop himself from hurrying towards him, desperate to stop him from waking her up or, worse, getting her stuck.

 “Hey, back up!” Jason shouts, standing quickly enough to bump into her and pulling the gun out of his pocket, pointing it right at Eddie. His voice quiets again, his tone eerie and soft even though he’s shaking. “What the hell did you do to her?” he seethes. 

 “She… she’s okay for now,” he tries, “but she needs–” 

 “Turn around.” 

 “Wh– We don’t have to do this, man.” 

 “Turn around!” 

He listens, hands shaking in the air, mind racing at the fact that he can no longer see Chrissy, can no longer ensure that she’s alright and alive and not floating to the ceiling. He breathes too quickly as the panic settles, the thought of her bones snapping flooding his memories again. He drops the flashlight and empties his pockets, just as Jason commands.

 “Who else is in the house?” Jason asks too calmly, but Eddie can hear the hardware of the gun rattling in his shaky hands. 

 “No one,” he mutters. 

 “Alright. I’m gonna back away while you wake her up, and then she and I are gonna leave, and you’re gonna spend the rest of your miserable life in prison for whatever the hell you’re doing to her.” 

 Even if he could wake her up, he shouldn’t. Even with how badly he wants to wake her up, he can’t. Chrissy, his strong, perfect, brave Chrissy, has insisted that she serve as the distraction, as the bait for Vecna so that the others can defeat him. She promised him that she could do this, and made him promise that he would help her. And as much as he hates it, he would never break a promise to her. So he shakes her head. “I can’t do that, man,” he says as he starts to turn around. “If I wake her too soon, we’re all gonna die.” 

 “Well,” he says with a crazed smile, his thumb cocking the gun shakily. “If you don’t wake her up right now, you die, freak. Just you.” 

 He tries, really. He tries to explain to Jason what’s going on, tries to tell him the truth about the demon who lives just below them and murdered his friend. He tells him that’s how Patrick McKinney died, how Fred Benson died, how Chrissy almost died. He tells him that the music is what saved her, even though she insists that that isn’t totally true. He tells him that she’s there now, being brave and strong and trying to hold the monster off while their friends try to defeat him. But as much as Jason can believe part of the story, after he saw Patrick dragged into the sky to have his bones snapped, he can’t get past one tiny detail. 

 “Then why the hell was she at your trailer? You corrupted her! You possessed her!” 

 “She wanted to buy drugs, dude,” he tries desperately, feeling his throat close in fear as Jason keeps the gun shakily pointed at him. 

 “Liar!” He can shoot Eddie, for all he cares, but Jason’s aim is shit, and all he can picture is his shaky grip loosening and the bullet flying right for Chrissy as she sits between the two of them. 

 “She was seeing horrible things,” he tries to explain. “Vecna forced her to see these terrible things and she was scared. She just needed help.”

 He laughs again, the sound making Eddie shiver. “That’s how I know you’re lying. If Chrissy was really scared, if she really wanted help, she would’ve come to me! Not you, freak!”

 “You’re wrong about her,” he says more softly. He’s not upset about Jason calling him a freak. And he’s not upset about his total disbelief that he could be remotely good for Chrissy. He’s angry. He’s angry that Jason knows so little about the girl he’s been seeing for all this time. He’s angry that he stands here with a loaded gun and chooses to put her in danger because of his own screwed up problems. “She’s not like you; she’s not what you think she is.”

 “You have five seconds to wake her up.” 

 He starts counting from five, the gun still aimed and loaded. And Eddie considers his options as time seems to slow to a halt. He can run, listen to Jason and wake Chrissy up with the understanding that the others probably won’t be able to kill Vecna if he does. Maybe he can even get the two of them away from Jason, or maybe he can go back for her after Jason’s taken her with him and they can run far away and never look back. 

 But then, he doesn’t do that running and hiding thing anymore. 

 So he doesn’t think. When Jason says four, Eddie shuts his eyes and adjusts his center of gravity and rushes the shit out of him, trying his hardest to go at him from as far from Chrissy as he can. He tackles him even after he hears the gun going off, so full of adrenaline and anger and just generally so fucking done with this guy that he uses everything he has as he crashes into him. Jason knees him in the stomach and he doubles over, the two of them struggling against one another, and Jason elbows him right in the jaw. 

 They scurry across the floor, forcing one another this way and that, and he thinks of Chrissy. He thinks of how unfair her life has been, how poorly she’s been treated by everyone she should be able to count on, how she needed to come to the freak for help in the first place because she couldn’t trust anyone else, and he fights harder. 

 He never thought he would be able to overpower him, not even when he saw those bruises on Chrissy’s wrists, but as he thinks of the yellowing, purplish marks in her perfect skin, he grabs Jason again, forcing him to the ground, and he pins his wrists over his head, squeezing hard and praying that he leaves a matching bruise on each of his arms. And then he takes the gun out of his grip somehow, not even thinking about the fact that it’s loaded and pretty much pointed directly at himself, and he hits him in the head with the butt of it and watches the lights go out in his eyes as he passes out. 

 He’s probably not breathing. He stares down as the unconscious Jason Carver for a second too long, eyes wide and startled as he tries to take in what the hell he just did. Did he really just rush a guy who was pointing a gun at him? 

 Then he remembers hearing the shot and he turns quickly, grabbing the gun and tossing it so it slides across the floor, well out of Jason’s reach. He takes a quick scan of the room, rushing to Chrissy and thanking whatever the hell is out there because at least she isn’t bleeding. But she’s rocking more quickly, her cloudy eyes darting from left to right with wild abandon and her breathing even faster before he feels a pull against his hands, gravity fighting against his hold on her until she’s lifting from the floor. 

 But then he looks down to find the Walkman, to grab the headphones and start the tape and bring her back down to him, and he freezes, panics again. Because the fucking thing is in pieces. It’s shattered, broken in the scuffle that he started, and he realizes he’s no better than anyone else. He can’t even keep her Walkman alive long enough to save her. 

 “Fuck!” he screams, loud and unhindered and pissed. “Fuck, Chrissy, come on!” he begs. He stands up and crouches so he can put his hands on her cheeks and pulls her forehead to his, but it doesn’t stop her from lifting higher and higher. His hands are shaking, his brain resembling the Spaghettios they shared just a few short nights ago, and he curses again. 

 “Chrissy, wake up,” he sobs. “Please, Sweetheart, please wake up. Please come back to me.” 

 But she goes higher and higher until she’s almost as tall as he is, her arm straight and her legs falling weak beneath her, and nothing holds her up but Vecna. 

 He doesn't think before he just starts singing like a maniac, crying through the lyrics that don’t seem to get through to her. Why would they? He sounds like a freak, sobbing out pleas and lyrics that barely make sense. He shakes her shoulders, knowing his desperate and pathetic attempts at even coming close to mimicking her favorite song are foolish. She climbs higher into the air until he can barely reach her, and all he can do is try to force her back down to the ground. He pushes on her shoulders, and then, without thinking, he kisses her frozen lips and hopes for some romantic fairytale miracle, but it’s no use. 

 Just as she gets high enough to leave his grip, though, she falls again. 

 She collapses to the floor in a heap, bones in one piece, and so does he. 

 ~~~~

 It’s so easy to fall into his arms. At first, it takes her a moment to even comprehend where she is, and then when she realizes that she escaped again, that she ran again and that he helped her to set herself free, she’s sprinting towards him until she can feel his lips on hers. 

 As she was running, something changed. The world was crashing around her and the gap in the Upside Down that was like a window to Eddie got bigger and bigger until she leapt through it, but something made her believe that she would’ve made it here anyway. And when she wakes up, she knows it’s because they won. 

 “Eddie,” she says, feeling a lot calmer this time than she was the last. None of her bones are broken, at least based on her quick scan of herself. And at least this time, she knew what she was walking into when she got cursed. She opens her eyes and is pleased to find that she can see, that they haven’t popped inside of her skull. “Eddie?” 

 He doesn’t answer. He lies beside her, eyes shut and face tense, body rigid. “Eddie!” she calls, moving quickly to get as close to him as she can and shaking his shoulders. She hears a groan, but it comes from behind her so she shakes Eddie’s shoulders again, not concerned with whoever is behind them. 

 Eddie groans this time, his breath sharp as he inhales and opens his eyes wide. He’s gasping for air as he looks around frantically, and he only settles a little bit when their gazes meet. “Chris–” he starts, cutting himself off with another gasp. And then he smiles and her heart stops. “Fuck. Hey.”

 His hand is on his waist, on the left side of his stomach, clutching firmly as his eyes droop in pain. “What happened?” she begs frantically, and when she moves his hand, she sees his damp, red palm and she wants to turn around and be sick right on the floor. 

 “Jason,” he breathes weakly, tilting his chin to gesture to the groaning body behind her and making her turn around. Her blood runs cold. Too much is happening all at once, with her curse by Vecna breaking and her waking in this old, chilly attic, with Eddie on the floor bleeding, and then to find Jason in a similar state. She can’t see any blood, though, and he appears to be unconscious, so he’s the least of her worries. 

 But then when she moves to be close to him, to check on him and to comfort him, she sees the gun and freezes. “Did he…” she starts, but she can’t finish her thought. “Eddie?” 

 “‘M okay,” he chokes out. He’s still panting, though, and he’s got a tiny bit of blood in his mouth. 

 “He shot you?” she whispers. He doesn’t really answer, his eyes fluttering open and shut, but when he opens them once more, he smiles up at her. 

 “I’m fine,” he says more clearly. “Can’t keep this old freak down.” 

 “You need to go to the hospital,” she reasons, but he’s gazing at her, his eyes far away but his smile soft and happy. She knows he’s in shock, but she can’t keep herself from panicking. 

 “You did it.” 

 His hand moves away from his wound while the other stays put, and he lets it gently graze along the skin of her cheek, his smile still in place but his teeth turning red. “Eddie,” she whispers, “we should try to get you downstairs.” 

 “Knew you could,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect. Knew you could do it.” 

 “Erica!” she screams, turning her head towards the stairs and trying not to think about how the way he’s talking makes it seem like he’s stopped fighting. “Erica, help!” 

 She turns back to him, figuring the best way to keep him with her is to talk to him. “Steve, Nancy, and Robin killed him, Eddie,” she tells him with pride in her voice and tears on her cheeks. “It’s all over. You just need to stay with me, okay?”

 “So brave,” he muses. “You’re my hero, Chr–” He cuts himself off with another gasping breath.

 “Eddie,” she whispers desperately, leaning down and letting a tear fall onto his cheek. “It’s okay. I know it hurts, but you have to stay with me, okay? Just stay with me. Don’t… don’t go, okay?”

 “Doesn’t hurt,” he says, and she cries harder. 

 He’s moaning and groaning, obviously in pain as he gasps for air, and help can’t come quickly enough. She doesn’t care that Jason’s still lying still behind her, and she doesn’t care if he wakes up, either. She doesn’t care that Eddie’s bleeding onto her jeans and that she should probably never wear them again. All she cares about is screaming out Erica’s name, crying out Eddie’s, holding him as he goes limp in her arms. 

~~~~

~~~~

[thefanficmonster]

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in. 

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.