#just because i'm 14. that's the only reason they would have to not let me do this

[datastate]

nankidai contact me we could fix the rankings of asunaro agents, training regimes, and also make sei a much better character without ridding what i know your intentions were.

[cluescorner]

There's no feeling stranger than knowing that something is bad but liking it anyways. Not in a 'it's so bad it's good' way. Because that implies that it has become good. I'm talking like this thing is just kinda bad in the normal ways things are bad, but i like it anyways.

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[ectospacecadet]

Sam's toxic relationship with Danny.

Alright, so, in Double Cross My Heart we all know Sam gets a new crush and Danny becomes jealous. But, after watching this episode for the umpteenth time, I really don't think he was jealous, he was just being overprotective as always (13).

Moving on, there was something about Gregor I noticed from the get-go and why I think Sam just fell for him on-sight, anyone want to take a guess?

Well, let's see, he's tan, wearing black and white, has white hair, and green eyes (he takes his sunglasses off at the end of the episode). Any of these attributes sound, I dunno, familiar?

Do I think this was intentional? Yes, but not from his end, he had no idea Sam has a crush on Phantom, and yes I mean Phantom. Why?

This is when Sam's crush on Danny actually started, this moment here. No not earlier in the episode when they're holding hands, she and Danny do blush but it's because they're in an awkward situation, not because 'oh no I'm touching my crush's hands'. Sam doesn't show any actual interest in Danny in any episode prior to this, sure she and Danny are dancing together at the freshman dance (parental bonding) but there's no romance underlying the scene, it's just two friends dancing platonically, Danny even says he wish he took her just because she wanted to go.

Do I think Sam even knows she has a crush on Phantom and not Danny? No, she's 14, she wouldn't understand that. Why do I think that? Well it's just the way she treats Danny as Danny and not as Phantom, when Danny does regular teenage boy stuff she gets all angry and annoyed by him and Tucker, but when it comes to the ghost stuff she's not as bad about it. I get she's trying to get him to be more mature etc, but he's 14 xD let him be 14.

Then there's Memory Blank, remember how she just straight up gets called out for her causing issues with Danny and just not apologising for any of it? She apologises for the fight, not for what she's done, and Danny just rolls over. It's insane. "Welcome to my world, remember? We should make the menu recyclo-vegetarian! We should let the gorilla out! We should sell all of your dad’s stuff at a garage sale!" "Anything else you want to blame me for? The ice age? Puberty?" "Sam, both monsters knew your name. Either there’s another Sam involved in ghost fighting-- or it’s you." "How about a “thank you”, huh?"

She never actually apologises for any of that tbh, even in this episode she had a go at Danny for beating up the possessed cow balloon and not for haunting the Truck Dealership place. Y'know, he does mature superhero things and she's like "yeah but my agenda", Sam has a tendency to only be mad at Danny for abusing his ghost powers if it doesn't give her perks.

Killer Garage Sale: Danny gains popularity, Sam is ugh. Splitting Images (the NEXT episode): Danny (who's possessed and Tucker even states Danny's acting weird) gains popularity, Sam ignores Tucker's observation and jumps on Danny's popularity to save the frogs.

I feel like the two finally getting together was only because of Elmer's initial plan, but in-universe they only got together because every other character insisted on it. Sam only has the Class Ring because Valerie dumped him and the only reason it has her name in it is because of Jack, Danny never actually gave it to her.

Alright, gonna jump all the way to Frightmare now because I think, even subconsciously, Danny just doesn't have any real feelings for Sam. Why?

Because this happens. In order to wake up from Frightmare's dream helmet things, you need to have a shock in their dream, or basically a nightmare. So Danny's dream was basically perfect up until Danny was confronted with what he thinks is what he wants, yet he wakes up in distress over it. Then there's Sam's dream, which is identical, but Sam wouldn't have woken up from the kiss, it took this to snap her out of it.

Which feels... Kind of telling to me. Sam's perfect dream was happening and she would have remained asleep, but Danny's exact same dream was happening and he woke up. Our subconciouses are basically our thoughts and feelings in their purest form, the way how you feel about something will be very apparent in an instant.

Ok, last episode I'm gonna talk about it, ugh, Phantom Planet. I know, I know, the writing in this episode was so messed up, but the one thing it did get consistent was Sam's character in this. I'm just going to take her last line in the show, which also happens to be the last line in the show, period. "Why not? Cool statue. Personally I would have made it out of recycled materials but, you know, that's just me." Honey, your boyfriend just saved the entire planet and you're going to take the time to complain about his statue??? Like... C'mon Sam... Anyway, yeah, there's a lot more I could say about this btw, but I think I'm done here. Personally, I think if Paulina and Danny wound up together I don't think it'd be as toxic as one with Sam's currently is. "But she only loves Phantom", yeah, but also she's never mean to Danny on her own, she's only mean to him in front of her friends and to Sam to piss her off. She always singles Danny out from his 'loser friends'. Weird huh? ((Just know I'm not saying I ship Paulina with Danny, just that she's actually not as bad as people think she is to him, she's a lot less mean to him than Sam is tbh, you can probably guess who I think is the better person for Danny xD)).

So yeah, I feel like after some time Danny's relationship with Sam would dwindle and eventually end, they'd still be friends, but just that.

I'll end it there.

EDIT: I also forgot about this.

Danny spies on Sam with Gregor because he’s worried Gregor’s with the GIW and doesn’t want Sam to get hurt, Sam gets mad at him for spying on her whilst on a date.

But when both Sam and Tucker spy on him and Valerie because they’re worried Valerie might waste him as Danny Phantom (Sam also has some very blatant jealousy spikes) everything is ok???

I don’t think Danny gets upset that Sam and Gregor kiss because he’s jealous either, I think it’s because either: A) he’s realising he might be wrong, B) he’s worried that if he’s right Sam’ll be heartbroken. If he was jealous he wouldn’t have been suddenly ok with Gregor after stopping the GIW from attacking him, he even apologised to Sam for the spying, Sam and Tucker never did ouo

When Danny goes on to say there’s many reasons to want to date Sam, again, only Sam blushes here, Danny just plays it off and doesn’t blush at all. He was just being a good friend and making her feel better, not saying he would date her. He’s 14, he doesn’t know you can platonically call someone pretty.

Let’s not forget Danny’s feelings for Valerie haven’t gone anywhere yet, the episode (double cross your heart) literally starts like this.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 14 - Next

"Today you look much better."

You mentioned Curly smiling at you and resting your forehead against his.

"You've stopped smelling like a cremated corpse, it must feel so good to have clean bandages and your wounds disinfected."

You closed your eyes with a smile, enjoying being close to him without having to move away because of the overwhelming stench he used to emit.

Curly: "...I...wa...wann..."

You suddenly opened your eyes upon hearing the sound of a voice, leaned back, and fell backward to the ground with the chair and all.

"No! Don't you dare! Don't do that again! That scared me!"

You stood up and quickly adjusted the chair to sit back down in front of him.

You opened his jaw to see his tongue and pressed it with your thumb to be able to see his throat.

"Nu-uh, your throat is still damaged, don't talk, I don't care."

He let out a huff when you said that.

"Did you just huff at me??? In these conditions, are you giving me an attitude??"

For some reason, it seemed like he was enjoying your reaction.

"Oh, you like seeing me angry now?? What are you trying to do?" 

You raised your hands when you asked that question, and he kept staring at your left hand, letting out a murmur upon noticing the rings on it.

"Mm? This? I found it when I tried to see if anything could be useful from the cockpit..."

You looked at your hand, seeing the rings, you had almost completely forgotten that you had his with you.

You took it out slowly and showed it to him up close.

"Now I'm not so angry about the fortune you spent on these rings, if they withstood an explosion they are of very good quality."

You smiled at him, lovingly observing the ring, remembering the day he proposed to you and knowing that from that moment your life would change forever.

"Who would have thought we would end up like this? Mm? I can say it, when I was little I never imagined I would go to space. Although i did dream of a handsome husband"

You could notice a hint of sadness in the sigh he gave, quite aware of his current state and that he would never be the same man as before.

"Do you still have doubts? If I will still be by your side when we return home?" 

His gaze turned to you when you mentioned that, it wasn't a lie, he had been thinking about that possibility.

"Do you think the only thing that made me fall in love with you was your pretty little face? Can't you believe that I can still love you seeing you like this?"

You smiled, resting your forehead against his again, looking directly into his eye.

"I didn't believe it either, when you met me, I was a mess, a drug addict, disheveled, stinky, and with a terrible attitude, I have to admit it... But that didn't stop you from falling in love with me, did it?" 

He rolled his eye to try to avoid your gaze.

You put his ring back on your ring finger next to yours.

"The day he wants to leave you, I'll take off this ring, okay? Until then, I don't want you to worry." 

You kissed his forehead, ready to go get the rations for the day.

Curly: "...I... I- I'm sho-.rry..."

"What did I just tell you a few minutes ago?? Nothing to talk about." 

You crossed your arms and shook your head.

Curly: "...I lo..ve you..."

Hearing those words again after so long, your cheeks began to burn, you turned your face because you didn't want him to see you with tears in your eyes, about to cry from joy.

"Me too! Don't forget it!"

You mentioned loudly, quickly leaving that room, took a deep breath, and leaned against the wall, unable to believe you were reacting the same way as when he first told you.

Daisuke: "Captain, are you okay?"

"Ah-! Daisuke, don't just show up out of nowhere! What do you need?"

Daisuke: "Do you want to swap my meat noodles for your cheese ones?"

He smiled, showing you the package of his food; it seemed that Swansea had gotten ahead and had already distributed the rations.

"Sure, sure... Go change it."

Daisuke: "Thank you! You're the best!"

You sighed, resting your head against the wall.

"Just a little more... I'm already getting sick of that food... I need to cook something real..."

[dearest-nell]

a real piece of art

e.m x reader, 2.8k

summary: eddie has some time to kill, and you might just be his new favourite distration. includes: art history student!reader, meet cute, eddie's an absolute dork warnings: mentions of nudity in artwork and allusions to a young eddie who is very excited by the prospect.

a/n: this came to me as i stared blankly into the void of my coffee machine this morning. i'm incapable of proofreading as per usual. i could be convinced to do a part two

Eddie had no business being here. This was an art gallery for crying out loud! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped in one, save that one unfortunate field trip in middle school where he’d been caught ogling a half naked sculpture in front of half the class. Sue him, he’d never seen a naked girl before, and he really had to give credit to the artist because he couldn’t look away. He’d been called a perv for a good year after that, and he’d never thought to visit another gallery again. 

Until now, that was. He was due for a practice and soundcheck in what he thought was only an hour, but somewhere along the line Jeff had got the time wrong, leaving Eddie stuck in Chicago with nothing but his ego to keep him company. Eddie had kicked himself for the mistake – who rehearses at 10 am anyways? There was a silent agreement that Gareth would be handling the bookings next time, where Eddie might be able to actually stay in bed until a reasonable hour. 

He’d thought to burrow down in a cafe for a little while, but the snooty businessmen and shrill giggles of the barista had sent him fleeing. The environment wasn’t conducive to good thinking anyways. He figured a little solace would do him some good, maybe give him some hard earned inspiration to turn into music for the band. So with coffee in hand, he’d taken to the streets, wandering idly as the strings of bodies moved in tandem, dodging and weaving the tracks of Tuesday morning commutes. It might have been enough for him had his jacket not been too thin for the sudden drop in temperature. Worn denim with steamed patches was hardly enough to break the piercing gusts of wind, and even his sweltering coffee in hand could not keep his hands from shaking. Looking around, Eddie felt out of luck. Cafe’s seemed too busy, and he had no real desire to start wandering shops nearby, so what was there left to do? 

$14 later, Eddie puffed a relieved sigh as the warmth of the gallery enveloped him, that trembling cold slowly dissipating from his veins until his hands no longer felt like ice. He figured he’d have taken any sanctuary, though he had been hoping maybe for a Library. At least then he could have bunkered down somewhere with a book. What did you even do at a gallery anyways?  He didn’t see much point in wandering around, scanning his eyes over paintings that seemed a million years old. He didn’t get art. Music was his art, after all. Even as he started to walk, all the pieces seemed to bleed together for him. Acrylics and oils and gouache melted into the blur of faces and places and things. Sure, they looked pretty, but Eddie couldn’t see why anyone would waste their time to sit and paint something like this, let alone stare at it for hours. 

He passed through room after room like this, brows furrowed, arms crossed as he tried to puzzle out the meaning. Music and melody had meaning, lyrics filled with the words people couldn’t seem to say any other way. The sounds of instruments were sounds of heartbeats, of head rushes and blood flow and heart aches and burning desires – paintings couldn’t do that, could they? 

Wandering into a smaller room, Eddie found himself caught as his eyes fixated on perhaps the only worthwhile piece of art he had seen all morning. There you were, perched somewhat uncomfortably on the plush leather seat in the room's centre, head resting delicately into cupped palms, your elbows propping you up into a figure he was sure was only meant for statues. You looked like one of the Greek ones, he thought, all soft and graceful curves, pretty lines and prettier expressions. There was a notebook in your lap, though Eddie couldn’t begin to make out what the blurry pen strokes might have  noted at this distance. 

You seemed so lost in thought as you stared at the piece directly before you, eyebrows knitted in concentration to match the deep set focus of your eyes, and Eddie, despite himself, was lost in you. 

It was a horrifying notion to realise he was back in this same situation again, entirely different and yet all the same. Here he was, stuck motionless, staring helplessly at something beautiful, something entirely foreign to him. Naked breasts had been enough to melt a twelve year old Eddie’s mind, but this Eddie, now grown, was entirely transfixed for another reason. Never in his life had just looking at a person knocked the wind right out of him. This was beyond attraction, he thought. Beyond a pretty face and a beautiful body and all those hormones that made people spin. You were all of that, and so much more. 

How he knew that seemed entirely out of reach, but the thought settled in him all the same. 

Eddie watched the subtle angle of your head, the way you tried to see from a different perspective, before fixating your attention on your notebook once more, scribbling away furiously at stained parchment. 

All better judgement seemed to leave him as he approached, slow and long strides to avoid the echoes of boots against floorboards in such vastness. His body took residence beside the lounge, standing tall at the opposite end, arms crossing as he tried to see what it was that had you so fascinated. 

Cheese. Bread. Nuts of some kind. He tilted his head as you had, browns furrowing in confusion. Still cheese. Still bread. Still nuts of some kind. He let out a defeated huff. 

“Are you okay?” 

He hadn’t expected you to speak, let alone notice him, but when he turned his chin towards you he was met with a curious expression. You were even more captivating up close, as it turned out, so much so that he could not decide what captured his attention more. The soft bags of sleepless nights hung low under your eyes, your cheeks flushed with a dusty sort of colour that only the artifice of candies could achieve, your cheeks indented so delicately with the lines of so many smiles that had come before. 

It was embarrassing in his eyes that he was still gawking, and even more embarrassing that you had to ask your question a second time. 

“Oh– yeah. I mean… yeah. Sorry. Was I being too loud?” 

The soft shake of your head was accompanied by an even gentler smile, and Eddie felt his shoulders ease a fraction away from his ears. 

“No, not at all. Just seemed like a forlorn sigh.” You pointed out, uncrossing your legs to lower your feet to the ground. 

Eddie’s brow raised, his tone lilting with amusement. “Forlorn, huh?” 

You shrugged, though Eddie could see the slow creep of embarrassment flush your cheeks, your hand lifting to rub at it absentmindedly. “Yeah, I guess. It was just the first word that came to mind.” 

Eddie was smiling before he knew what he was doing. “I like it. Forlorn. Like it’s from a poem, or something.” 

A soft hum of contemplation fell from your lips, your pen scratching nervously in the margins of your notebook, patterns of stars falling into the sea of words below. “Could be. Poets are meant to be all crestfallen and stuff.” 

He actually laughed at that, something sounding like a punched out breath leaving him, his eyes crinkling delightfully at the corners. 

“Are you a writer or somethin’? You don’t just hear people saying words like that every day. Gotta know them by trade.” 

You shrugged again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the curve of your ear. “Student, actually. Art history, so I guess fancy words are part of the curriculum.” 

It seemed strange to be meeting you like this, like someone high above had heard his complaints only to send him an angel to set him straight. An art student; maybe you could teach him a thing or two. 

Eddie gestured to the seat beside you, flat palm dampened nervously at the prospect of speaking to someone so pretty, so much more learned than him. You nodded shyly, not bothering to adjust as he took up the empty space beside you, his elbows propping on his knees for comfort. 

“Can I ask you something, then? Since all of this is your thing.” 

You closed your notebook, folding your legs beneath you once more as you fixated your attention on him – something Eddie was sure no man could ever tire of wanting from you. “Sure”. 

“Why are you staring at this one? Out of all the pictures in this place, what makes cheese so interesting.” 

The astonished little chuckle that left you was something sacred, golden and warm and louder than he had anticipated. You could put that laugh to song. Maybe he would. 

“It’s not the cheese,’ You clarify, your smile never shifting from your lips, “though it looks great, doesn’t it? Looks real.” 

Eddie took in the piece once more, letting his eyes trace over the food to take in the finer details. It was true; it looked real. He could see the shadows, the cracks in the bread, the crumbs that had fallen onto the platter below. He realised it mustn’t have been easy to make something so real. It felt like a snapshot. 

Oh fuck, do I get art now? 

“Yeah, it looks real. Kinda crazy real, actually. How do they get it looking like that?” 

“It’s different for different people. This one’s by Peeters, and no one’s sure where she learned to paint, but she was one of the only female professionally working artists of the 17th century. She was a big deal.” 

Eddie tilted his head towards you. “Is that why you like her, then?” 

You shook your head, scrunching up your nose. “It’s very impressive, but it’s not the only reason. I was looking for her signature.” 

Eddie did not need to clarify himself, the confusion that etched across his face spoke volumes, leaving you to laugh again in amusement. 

“A lot of artists leave signatures so you know a work is theirs. Sometimes it’s their name, or an item, or a seal – sometimes it’s on the back, sometimes it’s made to look part of the picture. She writes her name down at the bottom, see?” 

You leaned in a little closer to Eddie, lining up his gaze with your own so you could point out a flourish of cursive in the corner. Drawn into you, Eddie could not help but lean into your orbit, his eyes following the line of your finger to its destination. “Oh yeah. Musician’s do that too, y’know. Chuck in a riff or a line or something to leave their mark.” 

“Seems like it’s an artist's thing. I think it’s pretty cool.” 

Eddie liked the insinuation that musicians were artists. He’d met too many people in his life who’d thought otherwise, who did not understand the value of art. He supposed he was one of them, though. He’d been ratting on the art around him only five minutes earlier. 

“You like music, then?” He asked, eagerness in his voice betraying the cool persona he was hoping to achieve. 

“I love music.” You confirmed, hands busily occupying themselves by twiddling the pen in your lap once more. “I wish they played music here. Imagine looking at all the art and listening to songs that fit. There’s these big dramatic paintings a few rooms over that are just begging for a rock instrumental to accompany it, and the cheese…” you trailed off, seemingly embarrassed to have been so caught up in the idea. “I feel like I'd be lost in it forever.” 

Eddie closed his eyes for the briefest moment, letting the vision of your little dream settle in his mind. He could get around that, art and music together – two worlds colliding. It seemed all the more enticing to think you would be there too, humming away as you watched the paintings and he watched you. 

“I think it sounds brilliant. You tell me when you’re building this fancy gallery and I’ll be the first one there.” 

He might have died at the sincerity with which you smiled. No heart was meant to withstand such adoration brimming inside of it. 

“You know, I–” you paused, garnering some courage to find the words, “the signature I was talking about before? That wasn’t the one that had me looking at this. The cheese, I mean.” You gestured vaguely towards the canvas before you, though Eddie was unwilling to peel his eyes from the work of art before him. 

“Yeah? What had you looking, then?” He couldn’t believe that for the first time in his life, Eddie actually cared about what was splayed across a canvas. Whatever it was that intrigued you so, he was aching to know. 

“She painted herself in the reflection of the lid on the jug. Up the top… see?” Adjusting the items in your lap, you slowly rose to your feet, extending a hand out to drag the boy up with you. Eddie faltered only for a second, contemplating whether this one single touch would make or break him. Would the sweat of his palms disgust you? He was so nervous to talk to you, after all, to take this chance. He swallowed, slipping calloused fingers into your own until he felt unperturbed digits grasp his own, your expression unphased as you guided him towards the wall. 

You both paused a foot short, your free hand pointing upwards to guide his flittering eyes. Lo and behold, painted so delicately into the reflection of the jug, was a face staring back at him. His hand squeezed your own with untapped excitement, and Eddie’s mouth dropped. 

“Holy shit, that’s so cool. That’s really her?” 

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, that’s Clara.”

It was silent for a beat, the two of you soaking in the image before you; the woman in and amongst all the pieces of a life lived so long ago. It was a moment in history, much like the one the two of you were caught in now. 

Eddie marvelled helplessly, unsure what seemed to amaze him more; all these details that he never would have noticed if it weren’t for you, or the fact that you, a complete stranger, were still holding on to his hand as if it were something normal. For the briefest moment, he wondered if this could be normal, you and him. 

“I think this is the ultimate signature in a painting, just writing yourself into the story like that. It’s such a small thing, but… it changes everything, doesn’t it?” You broke the silence, voice a little dream like as you spoke. Eddie could only nod dumbly, a contented smile spreading across his face. 

“You wouldn’t wanna show me more of these, would you?” 

Eddie couldn’t stand the idea that you might walk away after this, back to your own life that until now had been so far away from his own. He wanted to walk the whole gallery with you, your hand in his, your voice whispering sweet nothings about the history and details of the world around you. 

The sheer excitement that crossed your features was an expression unmatched, never before seen. It was like he had asked you the one question you had been waiting for your whole life. Maybe you had been. Maybe no one had ever taken interest in the thing you seemed to love so much. He knew what that was like after all, his music had not been everyone's cup of tea. 

Maybe it could be yours.

“Oh, I– really?” 

“Only if you want to. I spent my whole time here trying to work out what made this stuff so special; I think you might be the one to show me. I’ll buy you coffee as thanks, if you like. I mean… I’d like to take you out for coffee.” 

He felt like a bumbling idiot, pausing to breathe an embarrassed chuckle. “You can also tell me to get lost at any time.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure if you noticed the way your hand seemed to tighten in his own, the movement causing his heart to beat in unsteady rhythms. It was something so small that seemed to shift his entire world – your hand holding his. 

Your head tilted with a smile. “You never said your name, y’know.” 

“Eddie.” He breathed out a little too fast. He’d have to kick himself later for it, because right now, he was too fixated on the way his foolishness seemed to make you smile all the wider. 

“Eddie.” You echoed, turning your body to face his own. “I’d love a coffee.” 

It took everything in him not to fist bump in triumph, his body aching to wriggle with the excitement that was slowly taking over muscle by muscle. How the hell had his morning turned out this good? 

“Sounds like a date, then.”

(images not mine)

“Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels” by Clara Peeters (ca. 1615)

[galactic-rhea]

Why is it that you people refuse to see Padme is in an abusive relationship when the evidence is right there lmfao

Not to impose my opinion onto you,anon, but:

A) It cheapens the narrative, a lot. If it was always abusive, if she was always in danger and under Anakin's thumb, then why would be the Mustafar scene be such a painful shock? Why is him force-choking her what actually tells you "Damn, he's really gone insane"? He just massacred the Jedi, including kids, and yet is that scene of Anakin hurting her what takes you by the shoulders, and makes you look in concern and realize "Damn, it really is over"?

Also cheapens the OG too! Why? Because Vader saved Luke out of love, love for the son he had with Padmé, love because "That's wonderful", he doesn't personally know Luke, there's no much of a reason to love him if he didn't already love Padmé and their marriage. He loves Luke unconditionally because he's Padmé's son. And Luke is able to sense that.

Star Wars is all about love, actual love. And if the twins didn't came to be from what was an actual devotedly in love couple, it just feels empty and cynical.

B) The only actual evidence in the movies is the scene I mentioned , in which Anakin was in this weird evil manic sleep-deprived drugged state lol In AOTC Anakin is nothing but a dork cringefail (that also happens to murder a whole village, but when it comes to Padmé, he treats well). And I'm assuming you read my answer about the Clovis arc, so even if you want to accept that as absolutely canon and in character, up to that point there wasn't evidence either. Even the Clovis arc treats Anakin's reaction as an outlier, and even then Anakin let's her go, because he actually can let go of her if she doesn't want him anymore. In the 2003 shorts they just look dovey-dovey. I can't speak of the novels and comics, but only by the movies? There's nothing.

C) Why would I actually want Padmé to be abused???? She already was done dirty by having so much of her development/scenes cut, and on top of that you want to add an abuse narrative? It's not as if over the 70% of women in media have an abuse narrative one way or the other, because writers apparently think giving a woman a history of abusive relationships, rape or something similar is making her deep and call it a day. And your excuse can't be "because is realistic".

She already had an awful life and died because she couldn't stand the idea that the only person that really saw her as herself turned against her, she didn't get to raise her kids, she didn't get to finally have a break from her job, she didn't get to have that lovely family she wanted, she had a full-time job since 14, she was manipulated by the evil guy that groomed her husband, she didn't even get to spend that much time with the love of her life at all, and after she died she became nothing but a figure of speculation because her real self was a secret only Darth Fucking Vader knew, and it died along with Anakin.

And on top of that you want me to have her as an abuse victim too scared to leave her husband despite him being away for most of the time? Sorry, no. Your alternative is just too cruel.

...Besides, an abusive relationship could never have such a banger as Across the Stars, that track is just too beautiful! /Hj

[lacroixwh0r3]

The First Taste

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Joel, your dad's best friend, for the first time after your dad begged you to join them at the lake to keep Sarah company. Both you and Joel become fascinated by each other the moment the two of you met.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON, heavy sexual tension, drug usage (weed only), petnames, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), fingering, voyerism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, swimming??, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): The First Taste by Fiona Apple

PART 2 PART 3

A/N: This takes place four years before Blow My Load, but can be read as a standalone.

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy lovies! <33

"Dad, I thought it was supposed to be a "boy's trip," and the last time I checked, I am not a boy." You point at your body as you tell your dad. For some reason, he is begging you to come to the lake with him and his friends the day before they leave. "Why won't you just tell me why you want me to go? And maybe I'll give you an answer."

You finally got him to crack.

Your dad let out a defeated sigh as he scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever bullshit your dad was about to say. "Well, you see, honey, one of the guys couldn't get a babysitter for his kid, and I offered you to keep her company." He winced.

And there it is. The thing he was holding back from you

You let out a sarcastic chuckle. You really couldn't believe this shit. "Are you serious, dad? I refuse to babysit some random kid because you offered me up without even asking me first!" You exclaimed at him. "I don't even know a damn thing about this kid."

"Look, I know it was wrong for me to do that, sweetheart, but I swear Sarah is a good kid. Most of the time she has her headphones in and minds her business." He tries to reason with you, almost pleading with you. You began to feel bad for blowing up on him like that, but it really did piss you off that you had to watch someone else's kid. "I'll even pay you."

This weekend, you planned on doing nothing but self-care. You wanted to do nothing but stay home, watch movies, get a mani and pedi, go get a massage, drink, and maybe even play with the new toy you just bought yourself at Spencers.

You feel yourself giving into your dad; it wasn't the money that made you say yes, but the fact that he always found a way to make you feel bad, even if he didn't mean to do it. "Ugh, fine!" You scoff as you turn to look away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see his body perk up.

Your dad lets out a sigh of relief, saying, "Thank you so much, sweetheart! You're such a lifesaver; you know that, right?" He slaps your shoulder playfully, causing you to shrug it off and narrow your eyes at him playfully as well.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. How old is your friend's daughter, anyway?" You asked him, unfazed by it all.

"I think she's around 14?" Your dad said cluelessly. "Not too bad, right? I'm sure that you can find something to talk about with her."

It wasn't that bad, but what the fuck would you, a 21-year-old, have in common with a 14–15-year-old girl?

"I guess. I'm gonna start getting my stuff all packed up," You tell him as you turn around to go up to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, and thanks again!" He exclaims to you as you make your way farther up the steps.

"Yup!" You yell it out dismissively.

As much as you hated the circumstances, you were happy you were finally able to get away for a little bit.

...

It was the next day, and you were tired as hell after only getting four hours of sleep. You had spent all night packing and stressing about what you were going to wear. It wasn't like you were trying to impress anyone, but this was your first time meeting your dad's friends, and you wanted to look decent.

You had left it up to your dad to pack your things into the car as you were too tired to do anything besides shower, put your clothes on, and lay back down for a little until it was time to go. As you lay face down on the bed, knocked out, you heard your dad knock on the door. "Hey, kiddo, are you ready to head out?" He asked you as he stood at the door.

You slowly sit up on your bed as you yawn and stretch your arms over your head. "Yeah, let me just get up and grab my purse and stuff."

"Got it." Your dad says this before turning around and making his way downstairs.

After moments of sitting on your bed, stairing into space, you got up, grabbed your purse, and began to leave your room. However, on your way to the door, you see the pouch that contained your weed and weed paraphernalia. You hesitantly swiped it from your dresser, dropped it into your bag, and went downstairs.

If the men got to have their fun, why couldn't you?

Once you get to the last step, you hear your dad saying bye to someone on the phone before turning to you. "My buddy, Joel, just got to the lake house, so we should start headin' out." He says this as he grabs his keys and motions for you to follow him to the door.

After making sure the security alarm was set and locking the door, the two of you were finally on your two-hour journey to the lake house.

...

You and your dad finally made it to the lake house. It was a three story house that sat on top of a hill, surrounded by nothing but trees.

You and your dad hop out of the car and start bringing your bags to the front door. All of a sudden, the moment you sat the last bag down and brought your fist up to knock at the door, it swung open, revealing a man who looked to be in his early 30s with short, dark, curly hair.

Beside him was a woman with long locs, smiling warmly at you. Meanwhile, the man looked at you with confusion, trying to piece together who you were. You looked familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to your face.

"Tommy!" Your dad said loudly behind you. You could hear the excitement in his voice as he greeted him. Tommy's eyes moved to look behind you at your dad, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh man, y'all come on in!" He opened the door wider as he and the unnamed woman moved out of the way to allow you to walk in first, followed by your dad. "I'll grab the rest of the bags out there." Tommy says.

Tommy brought the bags in as your dad greeted the lady. "Hey, Maria!" He asked her as he gave her a side hug. "I didn't know you were gonna be joining us this weekend as well."

So that was her name.

"I didn't think I was going to be joining either. Tommy invited me last minute, so I just decided to take some time off of work," She replies back.

They stood near the entrance as they began to get deeper into the conversation, talking about God knows what, leaving you standing there awkwardly as you watched them. You decided to take that moment to observe the room. Even though the house was spacious, it still had a cozy feel to it.

As you were in your own world, your dad gently slapped his hand on your shoulder unexpectedly. "And this young lady right here is my daughter." He smiles at the two as Maria and Tommy turn their attention to you.

"Nice to meet you, kid," He says as he offers his hand to shake yours, which you accept. You shake hands with him before dropping them to your side. Tommy then points to Maria. "This is my wife, Maria."

You shake hands with her as well while you tell them your name. "It's so great to meet you two!" You beam at the couple.

They begin to ask you a series of questions about yourself, such as what university you attended, what your major was, and so on, to which you gladly answer.

However, in the midst of your conversation, your words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. "And here comes my asshole brother, Joel, and my niece, Sarah," Tommy says to you, prompting both you and your dad to look behind you. You can hear Maria let out a loud laugh at Tommy's words.

Your eyes immediately focused on him as he got closer to you, not even paying attention to the fact that his daughter was right behind him as well.

The man named Joel had short, dark, curly hair like Tommy’s; the only difference is that he is a lot shorter, and the roots of his hair were slightly gray at his temples. Joel also had a patchy beard with a thick mustache. He has this rugged and mysterious look to him that completely enraptures you.

He and your dad greet each other, giving a quick bro hug and pulling away. Joel then turns to you, and you feel your hands quiver. His dark, dominant eyes intensify the intimidating aura that surrounds him, yet it still makes him even more interesting to you.

Holy hell, you think to yourself. This man is so fucking fine.

You continued to stare at Joel, saying absolutely nothing, until you realized that he was giving you a confused look as if he were waiting for something. Your eyes darted down, and you realized that he had his hand out, waiting for you to shake it. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you went to shake his hand.

"Joel," was all he said as the two of you shook hands before he let go and discreetly rubbed his hands into his shirt. You could feel yourself shrink with embarrassment as he did this. Not only did he not even give you a chance to introduce yourself, but he wiped his hands after shaking yours.

What a fucking jerk! Tommy was right; he is an asshole.

You quickly snapped out of your feelings when you realized that Sarah was now in front of you. She wore a pink crop top and jean shorts, while her curly hair was placed in a low ponytail.

She suddenly brings you in for a hug with a massive smile on her face, catching you off guard. Nonetheless, you still happily return the hug.

"I'm Sarah. It's nice to meet you!" Unlike Joel, Sarah was a lot more friendly with you. She had this radiant energy to her that made you wonder where she got it from because it definitely wasn't from Joel's grumpy ass. You tell her your name.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Sarah!" I return a smile back to her. She seems like the sweetest 14-year-old you've ever met. "I think we're gonna get along just fine this weekend."

"We sure are!"" She agrees.

"Sarah, sweetheart, how've you been?" Your dad asked her.

As your dad began to talk to Sarah, you decided to check Joel out while he listened to the conversation, occasionally putting in his two cents. Unlike the rest of the group, Joel wore a dark gray shirt, jeans, and some boots.

How is he not hot?

I mean, he is hot, but I meant temperature-wise, you think, causing yourself to let out a low chuckle.

You guess you said that out loud because Joel’s head, along with Maria's, Sarah's, and Tommy's, suddenly snapped over to you with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Your dad's voice slowly began to fade when he saw the mortified expression on Sarah's face.

"Wait, what happened?" Your dad asked cluelessly as he looked around the group. He was so in his own world that he didn't hear what you said. Thank-fucking-goodness. "Everyone just stopped talking all of a sudden."

"Nothing!" You quickly tell him as you give him a disengenious smile before looking at everyone else. Sarah looked embarrassed for you, as Tommy and Maria still looked shocked. You get a glimpse of Joel as you wince in embarrassment and close your eyes; he had this smug look on his face.

You gathered that Tommy obviously loves to fuck around with people because he let out a stifled laugh, causing his wife to slap his arm and tell him to shut up.

You just wanted to die right then and there. This is now the second time today you've embarrassed yourself in front of this sexy ass man.

Your dad, being the clueless person he is, continues on with whatever he is talking about, not even realizing that no one is paying attention to him. Maria interrupts your dad as she clears her throat to catch your attention. She had a sympathetic look on her face. "Sweetie, your room is on the second floor next to, uh, Joel's, if you wanna get settled in," She offered to you. "We're going to head out to the lake and start putting some things on the grill around 2 or so." You just nodded your head because you were too afraid to speak.

"Hey, Joel?" Tommy looked at his brother with a teasing look on his face. "Why don't you go show her to her room, yeah?" He nods his head in the direction of the staircase.

You wished that you could just punch Tommy across the face at this very moment.

"Umm yeah..." Joel agrees slowly as he gives Tommy a dirty look before glancing at you. "Follow me," You nodded your head and grabbed your purse and other bags. As you followed Joel, the group quietly picked up their conversation again.

Without saying a word to each other, you and Joel arrive in the room. He steps aside, allowing you to enter, and turns around to make his way down the hallway to go back downstairs, but you quickly stopped him before he could get any further. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened down there." You apologized to him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything."

Joel just turns around and gives you a small smirk. "Oh, darlin', I'm far from uncomfortable. I'm actually flattered...more than flattered as a matter of fact." He winks at you before departing down the hallway, leaving you shocked.

You were somewhat relieved that Joel wasn't disgusted by you, but it still didn't help with your embarrassment as much as you hoped it would.

You scanned the room, taking in the room that you were going to be spending your weekend sleeping in. The walls were painted a light gray. There was a queen-sized bed that looked really comfortable and had bedside tables on each side as well as a TV, which was mounted onto the wall opposite the bed. There was a door that led to a balcony. You could see an overview of the calm lake and the tall trees. It was a beautiful view.

...

It's been a while since you went downstairs with everyone. You were still so embarrassed by the incident this morning that you decided to spend most of your time scrolling through social media and catching up with your college friends. The only time you came out of the room was to go to the bathroom.

You eventually rolled out of bed and worked up the courage to join everyone.

After changing your clothes that you had on earlier and putting on your swim suit, you slipped on your oversized shirt, put on some waterproof mascara, and put on some lip gloss.

You made sure to grab your sunglasses, put on your flip-flops, and jogged down the steps.

Once you got down there, you realized that Maria was in the kitchen. You headed towards her, quickly greeting her. "Hi, Maria," You say while positioning yourself behind the chairs on the island. She was gathering something that she needed to put outside.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Maria happily greets you back with a smile as she turns her attention to you. "How're you feeling?" She asked you gingerly as she looked at you with sympathy. Her goal wasn't to embarrass you; she truly wanted to know if you were okay after earlier.

You felt yourself begin to get flustered. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking." You sheepishly replied. You avoided her eyes, beginning to feel awkward.

"Of course. They're out in the back; you should join them." She points to the sliding door. You just nodded your head and made your way to the door. Before you went out there, you stood there looking outside. You could see Joel's tall figure standing over the grill as he flipped the meat and sipped on his beer.

You felt yourself getting nervous just looking at him.

You then looked and saw your dad helping Joel take the food off the grill and start to place it on the table. Meanwhile, Sarah and Tommy sat at the table, talking to each other. Whatever Tommy had said made them let out loud laughs, causing Joel quickly turned around, let out a chuckle, and shook his head. He then went back to putting things on the rest of the food on the serving platter.

His smile is so gorgeous, it almost takes your breath away.

"Are you going out, sweetheart?" Maria asked behind you, startling you. You had forgotten that she was still here.

You turned to her as you began to stammer over your words and realized that her hands were full with plasticware and plates. "Do you need me to help you take those?" You asked her without even answering her question.

"I do actually," She just looked at you with a questionable look before speaking up again. "Can you just grab the forks and spoons from the top and place them on the table out there, please?" She asked. You grabbed the utensils before turning back around and opening the door.

They didn't notice you at first until Sarah caught sight of you and loudly called out your name as you got closer, causing Joel to look over at you as he closed the grill's top.

"Sarah!" You exclaimed dramatically. Once you reached the table, you sat the plasticware down and went over to sit next to her.

You noticed that her hair was wet and that she was wrapped in a towel. "What've you been up to, girlfriend?" You asked her as you sat down in the seat.

"Nothing much; I just took a quick dip in the lake, and now I am starving," Sarah whined out as she looked over at her dad, who was coming over with the food.

You can hear the sound of Joel's heavy feet approaching behind you and stopping at the free seat at the end of the table, which was next to you. He first put the food in the middle of the table, then plopped himself down. We all began to put things on our plates and begin eating.

Tommy grumbled something about starving, causing Sarah to make a joke about how he was always starving. In reply, Tommy stuck his tongue out at the young girl in a teasing manner.

As Joel ate, he was manspreading under the table. You could feel his hairy, bare leg graze against yours, making you move your leg away. Joel wiped his mouth with the napkin, took a sip of his beer, and looked at you with a blank stare, not saying anything.

You decided to speak up and compliment him on the food. "Joel, this is really good," You smile. Everyone hummed in agreement as they ate.

"Why thank you, darlin'?" Joel says, going back to eating.

...

After eating, we all sat there with our tummies full as we sat around talking about whatever came to mind. That was until Sarah ran into the house without saying a word.

"Oh goodness, that girl." He sat back as he watched his daughter running around the house through the sliding door before running back outside with a box of Uno cards.

"Who wants to play?" She asked the whole table as she ran to her seat and plopped down.

We all agreed. She began to shuffle the cards, dealt them out to everyone, and then set up the game. It first started with you, Joel, Maria, Tommy, then your dad, and lastly Sarah.

Sarah was the first one to get Uno, even though she had the most cards at one point. We all accused her of cheating, which she was quick to deny. No one at the table believed her, especially Tommy and Maria. She just rolled her eyes and helped your dad while he was stuck figuring out which cards to play next.

While the two silently argued about which card was the best, you looked over at Joel and saw that all his cards were showing. You looked around and noticed that no one was paying attention to his cards. Tommy and Maria were sitting there watching your dad and Sarah.

"You're bleedin', Joel," you whisper to him as you point to his card. His face scrunched up with confusion as to what you meant. He looked down at himself and saw no blood.

"What, sugar? I ain't bleedin' anywhere," He said as he tried to recall if he had maybe scraped himself anywhere, but it wasn't coming to him. You couldn't help, but laugh at his confusion.

"It means your cards are showing, Joel." You giggled at him as he chuckled a bit and put his cards up so that he wasn't "bleeding" anymore.

"That's so stupid, who taught you that?" You just shrugged your shoulders at his question and looked back over to see if your dad had finally picked up his card yet.

"Oh my gosh, this isn't rocket science, dad! Just pick a card already!" You exclaimed it, causing everyone to laugh.

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'!" Your dad waved you off as he went back to silently arguing with Sarah about which card to choose.

The game got drawn out longer than it was supposed to because every other minute someone (usually Tommy) would start arguing about another person cheating. And in the end, Tommy lost the game.

We put the cards away as everyone except for Maria decided to hang out by the dock and take a swim. She said something about having to get on the phone with a client of hers, but she would come join us when she was done and would bring popsicles.

You and Sarah walked in front of your dad, Joel, and Tommy until you yelled out, "Beat you there!" to Sarah as you both haphazardly ran down the steps to get to the dock.

"You girls, be careful down those stairs now! Don't want y'all gettin' hurt," Joel yells out from behind. The two of you don't respond or slow down; you just keep giggling and running. Joel had to suppress a smile from appearing on his face. It brought him joy to hear how much fun Sarah was having with you.

Once you make it to the dock, Sarah flings off her towel and jumps into the lake with a squiel before she goes under water and floates back up. You quickly kick off your flip flops, throw your sunglasses down, and take off your shirt. Unlike Sarah, you didn't jump into the water, you sat down on the dock and scooched into the water.

Oh, come on! You should've jumped in!" She says this to you as she splashes you with water. You splashed her back.

"I'm too afraid, Sar-bear!" You yelled out to her, and she gasped. The men appeared from the concrete steps just as she did so. Joel dropped the towels in his arms before walking over in front of us, while your dad and Tommy moved to the other side of the dock with their beers and their folding chairs.

"Dad, can you believe that she's too afraid to jump into the water?" Sarah yells out to her dad.

He looked down at you from the dock with his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Really? It's not that scary, sweetheart," He tells you.

"Then how about you get in, Joel?" You say to him without even thinking.

"Yeah, come on, dad. Get in and show her how it's done!" Sarah yells out as she encourages her dad to get in.

You watched Joel as he took off his shoes and shirt, all while keeping his eyes on you. You couldn't help but suck in a breath and bite your bottom lip when he pulled off his shirt. You got a glimpse of his shirtless chest. Joel wasn't the most muscular man, but whatever his job was, it kept him fit, and you loved it. Your eyes quickly scanned over his neck, then his broad shoulders.

Those damn shoulders of his. You wished you could hold onto them as you rode on his co-

Your thoughts were abruptly shattered when Joel took a big leap into the lake, causing a splash of water to hit your face and go up your nose. You tried to make an attempt at turning your head, but it was too late. You coughed as you tried to clear the water from your lungs. As you do so, Joel comes up from beneath the water.

He gasped as he allowed the air back into his lungs and used his big hands to wipe his face. Once he noticed that you were coughing, he quickly swam over to you with a look of concern.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked you as you let out one last cough and nodded your head. He brought his hand up to stroke the side of your head and gave you this tender look before pulling away when he noticed that Sarah was coming over.

If it were just you and Joel on the lake, he would've probably pulled you into his body and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

Even though he had just gotten into the lake, Joel decided to get out before he did something that he would regret.

"Alright, girls. I'm gonna get out now." He says more to Sarah than to you. Once again, you just nodded your head at him. You knew that if you spoke, you'd embarrass yourself again.

"Wha-Dad! You literally just got in." She tries to convince him, but he just shook his head and grabbed onto the rails. He pulls himself up with a grunt and walks onto the dock.

"I'll get back in in a little bit." He dismissed her as he went to get a towel.

Sarah began to say something to you as she swam around you, but you were too focused on Joel to listen to what she was saying. She was too busy talking to notice that you weren't listening. Your attention was stuck on Joel, and his wet shorts stuck to his surprisingly nice ass. He then turns around as he dries off. Your eyes drifted down and widening when you saw his bulge. You were taken aback by the sight.

Oh my god, you thought to yourself.

You looked back up at his face to realize that Joel was already staring at you and smirking while he wrapped the towl around his waist.

Oh fuck!

He obviously saw you staring at his cock because he was fucking smirking.

Joel walked over to have a seat with his brother and your dad. You diverted your attention back to Sarah, acting as if you knew what she was talking about. You just nodded your head a couple of times, and she believed it, but again, your mind drifted.

You were thinking about her dad; snap out of it for Christ's sake.

For the rest of your time at the lake, you refused to look at Joel. And just as promised, Maria finally joined you all about an hour later with the popsicles she said she would bring. Once we ate them, Maria convinced the other adults to have a swim in the lake, to which they all agreed after some groans and pressure from her and Sarah.

...

After spending most of the afternoon outside, everyone went off to do their own thing. Sarah decided to take a shower and then go to sleep while your dad, Tommy, and Maria opted to go out to a bar that a local had told them about, and Joel refused to go out tonight because he said that he was beat from the lake. As for you, you took a quick shower and decided to watch the sunset on the balcony that was connected to your room and smoke.

Before slipping onto the balcony, you grabbed a preroll and a lighter from the pouch, your headphones, and a water bottle from the bed.

When you first got here, you didn't notice that there was a door connected to the balcony that led to Joel's room. However, the sheer curtains were closed, so you could only assume that he was asleep, meaning it was safe for you to smoke without him seeing you. You sat down on the lounge chair, put your headphones on, turned on some music, and began your session.

After two hits of the preroll, you felt the effects of the weed. Your body began to relax, and your eyelids felt slightly heavy. As you continued smoking, you couldn't escape the thought of Joel. You know that he is your dad's friend, and you would never think to go after him, but you have to admit that he is an attractive older man. Just your type.

You barely spoke to him throughout the couple of hours you had been there, yet you could tell the type of man he was. He is very reserved, doesn't speak unless spoken to, and likes to observe. Joel is respectful, but he didn't take shit from anyone. It was very visible that he was protective of not only Sarah but also Tommy.

Everything about him drew you in more and more.

With a few more hits of your preroll, you see a figure standing in the corner of your eye just a few feet away from you, causing you to quickly pull off your headphones and flick the preroll from your fingers and off the balcony. You look over to see Joel watching you with his eyebrows frowned and his hands on his hips. Your eyes widen with shock.

"Shit! I mean, hey, Joel..." You smile up at him awkwardly, trying to seem as sober as possible. "What are you doing out here?" You asked him in a sickly sweet voice. He continues to stare at you before answering.

"I just came out here to check on you. Heard you out here, so I decided to see what you were up to." Joel grumbles as he switches his weight to his other foot.

You prayed that Joel didn't know you were out here smoking weed; your dad would kill you if he heard about you doing this. Little did you know that your attempt would be a complete failure. As soon as Joel walked outside, he could smell the smoke and aroma of weed. He could also see your bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, yknow, nothing much really, just out here enjoying the view and listening to music!" You say this while waving your hand, gesturing to the view in front of both of you. You visibly cringe after this sentence because, even though it was the truth, it wasn't the full truth. He seemed to buy it, so you relaxed a bit.

"Mm, you enjoyed yourself today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun today. Sarah definitely made it fun for me, she's amazing." You admitted to him, and it was true. His daughter was truly a joy to be around.

"Yeah," He laughs out as he looks out at the sunset, his handsome smile threatening to appear on his face. "She's amazing, for sure." He whispers. You can't help but smile at his words. It was refreshing to see that there was someone who was able to crack his hard exterior.

A silence falls over the two of you before he speaks up again. "Y'know, when we were walking back to the car after the lake, she talked about you the whole time. I couldn't shut up about how much cooler you are than Tommy and me." He scoffs as he rolls his eyes playfully and folds his arms to his chest. His confession made you laugh so hard that you couldn't stop, which caused him to laugh as well.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." You teasingly say it to him, causing him to shake his head.

"Yeah-fuckin'-right, darlin'. I can be cool, too."

"Mmhmm.." You reply back to him as you turn your head to look back at the view. However, Joel's eyes remained on you, but you didn't mind too much.

Once again, silence fell over you two. You wanted to look back at Joel, but you knew that if you looked at him in the eyes, your heart would beat out of your chest.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Joel?" You asked him without looking at him.

"What?" Joel asked.

Was he that engrossed in my face that he wasn't even paying attention, or were you not loud enough?

You suppress your laugh as you turn your head to look at him again. "I asked if you enjoyed yourself today." He quickly snaps out of his trance and looks away.

"Oh, yeah, it was enjoyable for the most part, sweetie," Joel sighs out. You said nothing else after this.

You didn't realize it until now, but you were starting to grow tired from the weed. You also wanted a snack.

"Well, I'm going to head back in, maybe fall asleep to a movie or something." You tell him as you grab your belongings, get up from the chair, and walk to the door.

"Alright," He says as he watches every step you take. "And one last thing, darlin'," You stop with your hand on the doorknob and look up at Joel as you wait to hear what he has to say. With a mix of your high and the nervousness you were feeling because of Joel, your heart was pounding out of your chest at this point.

"You don't gotta lie to me, sweet girl. You know that, right?" He says lowly as he motioned to his eyes.

Fuck!

Your body tenses up, and you freeze. You decided to play dumb, even though you were caught. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Joel," You say as you let out a nervous laugh. Your eyes shifted to the ground, avoiding eye contact with Joel like a guilty puppy.

"Oh, no need to play stupid with me, sweet girl; I won't tell your daddy." Something about the way he said these words made you want him so bad; it was almost like he was teasing you.

You felt your walls crumbling, no longer feeling the need to lie to him. "You swear, Joel?" You asked him as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

Joel wished that you would look at him with those pretty eyes while you were on your knees, pleading and begging for him to feed you his cock. In all honesty, he'd give you the world if you asked for it with that look. You made Joel feel something he hasn't felt for a woman in years, and he was willing to do just about anything to have you. However, he could tell you weren't ready for that yet, but he knew in due time he'd have you.

"You have my word, darlin'," He nods his head. "Just don't lie to me again," Joel tells you as he points a finger.

You frantically nod your head in agreement as you bite your lip. "I won't do it again, Joel."

All Joel could think about was how obedient you are, so eager to please him and do as he says. He could feel his cock getting hard in his shorts as he looked at your bare thighs and had these thoughts. Not once did you realize that Joel was checking you out.

Oh, how badly Joel wanted to grab your chin and kiss those lips of yours. He kept reminding himself that he needed to be patient.

"Good." He says before speaking up again. "You should go inside, darlin', maybe get some rest." Joel insisted as he made his way to the door and gave you one last look before walking inside, leaving you outside by yourself.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment as you think about your interaction with Joel. You weren't sure if it was just you thinking too much into the interaction, but you felt like there was some sexual tension between you and Joel.

Any time you're around him, nervousness takes over, and a sense of yearning aches deep in your bones.

You needed him badly.

"Don't," You say to yourself. "Don't fucking think about it." You say it lowly as you try to shake the thoughts out of your head.

Joel is off limits; he's your dad's best friend.

You realized how crazy you must look standing at the door thinking about Joel, so you went inside.

Once you entered the room, you noticed that it was a little too warm in there for your liking, so you decided to leave the balcony door cracked to get some fresh air.

You put your things away, got into bed, and watched a movie on the TV across the room.

...

You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you did during the movie without even realizing it. You felt very discombobulated, so you sat in the dark for a few minutes. Your clothes felt disgusting on your body as you sweated through them, and your throat was dry.

You quickly got out of bed, slipped off your clothes, got back into bed, and took a sip of the water bottle that lay next to you. During this, you got a glimpse of the digital clock that sat on the bedside table. It read 12:48.

The house was quiet. You were sure that Maria, Tommy, and your dad were back from the bar by now and asleep. Sarah and Joel were probably sleeping as well.

You laid back down on the bed, pushing away the uncomfortable blanket, leaving your body bare. You should have gotten up to close the door because if Joel were to come to your balcony door, he'd surely get a glimpse of your naked body. However, you were still sleepy and a little high, so you lacked the motivation to get up.

It really didn't matter anyway; he's probably still sleeping.

You had laid restless in the bed, constantly flipping the pillows to get the cool side and changing positions, but you still couldn't sleep. You decided to lay on your stomach; it helped you fall asleep sometimes.

You knew one thing that would definitely make you fall asleep, but with a particular someone lingering in your thoughts, it felt wrong. It is completely wrong to have these thoughts about him.

He's way too old for you, and he's your dad's best friend.

Though you tried your best to resist these thoughts, you couldn't help yourself.

Fuck it, it's not like I'm gonna actually fuck him, you think to yourself.

You were suddenly taken back to earlier, when you first laid eyes on him. Those eyes and the curve of his nose. You wanted nothing more than to feel his beautiful nose rub against your clit while he ate you out.

Or when he shook your hands and you felt those thick, rough fingers against your smooth hands.

You were sure that Joel knew how to use them very well.

Subconsciously, your hips had bucked into the bed, trying to get friction onto your clit causing the headboard to hit against the wall ever-so-slightly.

"Shit!" You cursed out loud, hoping that Joel didn't hear. Your heart was pounding at the thought of being caught by him, but your pussy dripped with your wetness.

You waited a couple seconds until you took your hand from underneath the pillow and slowly moved it between the bed and your body, allowing your finger tips to graze against your pussy. You couldn't help but whimper at the feeling. Your arousal ran down your fingers, to your knuckles, and onto the bed.

What you didn't know was that Joel wasn't even in his room; he was sitting out on the balcony. He had been sitting out there for about an hour or so because he couldn't sleep, not with you on his mind, so he decided to sit out there and bore himself to death until he got some sleep. When he first came outside, he checked on you and saw that you were knocked out. The room was dark, and the only thing that brought some light to the room was the bright moonlight reflecting over the lake.

As Joel got up to check on you one last time before he went back to his room, he heard you let out a whimper. He slowly walked to your balcony door so that he wouldn't scare you in case you were having a nightmare, but that wasn't the case at all. Again, Joel heard you let out another noise.

First, you sharply gasped, then moaned out, "Oh, Fuck!"

Joel became more intrigued with whatever was going on in your room because it became very apparent that you weren't having a nightmare. In fact, it didn't even sound like you were sleeping anymore.

Like a thief in the night, Joel peered through the door that was half open. What he saw before him could've brought him to his knees.

You were lying down on your stomach, fully naked on the bed. He noticed that with your right hand, you were touching yourself. Joel wasn't hard before, but he's definitely hard now. He felt as his cock strained against the fabric of his shorts.

Joel knew it was wrong to watch you masturbate without knowing, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. It had been nearly two years since the last time he had been sexually active, and quite honestly, it was catching up to him at that very moment. He had been so busy with everything in his life that sex was the last thing on his mind until now.

As Joel watched you hump your hips into your fingers, you were imagining a shirtless Joel sat up on the bed, with you sitting in between his legs. Your legs would be wide open, propped up over his, as you allowed his calloused middle and ring finger to collect your arousal from between your folder and rub it into your clit. With his deep Texas accent, he would be whispering into your ear about how much of a good girl you are and how wet you were for him. Your head would be laid on his sexy, broad shoulders as your eyes rolled with pleasure. You imagined that as he played with your clit, his other hand would touch your breast and quickly tweak your nipples as they continued going up and firmly wrapping around your neck.

You were so caught up in your thoughts and pleasure that you hadn't realized that you were moaning out Joel's name.

"J-Joel, please," You quivered out quietly enough so that you weren't too loud, but loud enough for Joel to hear. "I'll be good, p-please, daddy." You followed up.

Even though you thought that Joel was in the next room over (which he wasn't) and there were other people in the house, you still continued to touch yourself as the headboard faintly knocked against the wall.

Yet you were so blissfully unaware of it all. So unaware of the fact that Joel was standing right outside the door, watching you rubbing yourself completely nude, and unaware that Joel had pulled his cock out while he watched and listened to you.

Joel didn't care that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't care that watching you, this freshly 21-year-old, masturbate without your knowledge was bad.

The sounds of your panting, moans, and dirty talk made him want to walk right into the room and give you the pleasure you needed.

Joel has always been a selfish lover when it came to the bedroom; he liked to be the one who was dominant and always took control. He could tell you needed someone like him to fulfill your desires—not some foolish 20-something year old, but a real man.

As you continued to grind against your fingers, Joel saw how your ass moved back and forth. He wanted to spank you for being such a naughty girl. Touching yourself without asking for his permission. He would remind you that only slutty, bad girls did that.

He jerked his cock at the same speed as your hips moved. "Oh my god, daddy!" You moaned into the pillow, causing it to be muffled. The thrusting of your hips had sped up. You were on the cusp of cumming, but that changed when you suddenly pulled your hands from between your legs and got up to change positions.

You were now lying on your back with your legs bent up to your chest as far as they could go. Using the hand you just used to grind up against, you bring your middle and ring fingers to your mouth. You began to suckle on them intensely, pretending they were Joel's fingers. You could taste yourself as you did so.

A minute later, you pop your fingers out of your mouth and bring them down to your pussy. As you sink your fingers inside yourself, you can feel the wetness, allowing you to slip deeper into your tight hole. You squirmed as you felt a little discomfort due to your fingers. You decided to slowly thrust your fingers in and out, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling. With your free hand, you brought it up to your mouth to muffle your soft whines.

Oh, my baby, she can barely take her own fingers, Joel thought as he watched you.

To Joel's surprise, you still didn't see him standing by the door, hastily jerking himself off at the sight of you. It wasn't like he was being discreet about it either. He was almost fully through the door at that point. Your eyes were closed as you fingered yourself.

Finally, you were able to adjust to your fingers. As you picked up the speed, Joel could hear the wet, slick sounds coming from your pussy all the way across the room. Hearing this only heightens the pleasure for him.

"Joel, I'm-oh my god-I'm gonna cum!" You moaned lowly.

Joel wanted to be the one to make you cry, but he knew he couldn't at that moment.

Your messy wetness had allowed your fingers to go deeper inside, causing you a certain spot. Your legs shuddered as your finger tips grazed the spot. In a 'come here' motion, you continued to hit the spot over and over again. "Fuck! That's it, baby. Keep going just like that." You purred out.

Joel convulsed at the way you said these words. He was ready to cum at any moment, but he wanted to cum with you.

With his hand still rapidly moving up and down his length, he finally heard your release.

"Yes! I'm cumming all over your fingers, Joel!" You moaned a little louder this time. Joel could hear you breathing hard as you continued to ramble about how good it felt.

Instantly, Joel was cumming. He withheld his groans and grunts as the hot cum hit the palm of his other hand. Instead, he was breathing hard through his nose, hoping to God that you couldn't hear him.

Finally, your orgasm began to die down. "Oh my god," You sighed out blissfully, as you pulled your finger from your pussy. Your legs moved from your chest and you dropped down on the bed. You were still trying to catch your breath. With his mind still cloudy from cumming so hard, when Joel saw you move your legs, he thought that you were going to get off the bed, causing him to panic and move away from the door so that you couldn't see him.

You could feel the cum webbing between your two fingers. You decided that you wanted a look, so you opened your eyes and brought your hand close to your face. You could see the bright moonlight illuminate your cum. You'd never come so hard. Not with any of your hookups, let alone when you masturbated.

You felt spent after that, but you needed to get up to clean yourself off. You decided to rest your eyes a bit before getting up, but without even realizing it, you had dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Less than five minutes later, Joel heard light snores coming from your room, so he decided that it was safe to look again. You were dead to the world. Joel saw your limp hand hanging off the bed—the same one you had used to fuck yourself with. He could see the wetness gleaming on your fingers. He wanted to come over them and suck your cum off of your fingers, but he stopped himself.

The post-nut clarity had hit Joel, and he realized that he must've looked like a creep with his cock out while he watched you sleep. So he closed your balcony door and headed back into the house to wash the cum from his hands.

Joel knew that he would have you one day; it didn't matter how long it took for him to get you. He would get you right where he wanted you eventually.

...

You woke up feeling like a brand new person that morning. Your limbs felt loose, and you felt like you could conquer the world.

You could feel the sun on your naked body as you rose out of bed to stretch. The sounds of people moving around let you know that everyone was awake.

You suddenly realized that the balcony door was now closed. You don't remember getting up to clean yourself, and you definitely don't remember ever getting up to close the door.

Realization had hit you hard, and your heart dropped.

Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

There was no way anyone could have come into your room because you had locked the bedroom door. However, Joel had access to the shared balcony.

He was the only one who could've closed that door.

Whatever, you were going to enjoy yourself this weekend and act like nothing happened.

=============================================

A/N: I had a lot of trouble writing this for some reason, but next one is going to be a lot better. I got so much planned already hehe

[haeryna]

feeling so high but too far away to hold me ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ;༊

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summary: satoru and suguru come to a critical conclusion, but is it too late for them to mend what was broken?

tw: angst, homophobia, abandonment, mentions of (unintentional) self harm, mentions of illness, barely proofread

notes: title taken from halsey's "without me." all images were taken from pinterest and are NOT mine! i'm not sure if i like how this came out but oh well gotta get through it lol. banner is from @/cafekitsune!

Lately, Satoru has been thinking a lot more about you.

He shouldn't be. Choso's been on his ass for stupid mistakes, like a slight misstep during practice, or the way his voice wavers ever so slightly on notes that are well within his vocal range. Nanami grumbles a bit more when recording sessions extend even further. Haibara brings him an extra water bottle during practice. Even Sukuna is slightly nicer to him, as if he can see how much Satoru is struggling.

Satoru hates it. It makes him feel weak, because he knows now that he misses you more than his heart can bear. He has women throwing themselves at him left and right, so why does a girl from a town he left behind make something in his chest twist? By all accounts, Satoru is thriving. He has a wonderful relationship with his boyfriend, his boy group has broken record after record with each single they release, and Satoru has just signed onto a brand deal with Chanel.

(He knows you're not just a girl, you were his. The only person he could bear to share Suguru with, the only person who could see past his flirtatious facade and say, "It's okay, 'Toru, I'm here for you." He knows the reason why he forces himself to believe you would have only shunned him like his parents, is to run from the realization that he abandoned you in the most horrific way possible.)

It doesn't help that his managers handle all of his social media accounts, and go through all his mail. As soon as him and Suguru signed onto the same agency, their phone lines were decommissioned, and they were given highly protected personal phones. You wouldn't be able to reach him even if you wanted to. Hell, they barely even saw Shoko, and the only reason was because they were both the only people who trusted her to take care of their medical needs.

Suguru had tried, once, to ask about you, to get a way of contacting you. Shoko had looked him dead in the eyes, steel hidden behind soft brown, and told him that, "if you were just going to abandon her like that, at least have the decency to stay gone until they could commit to her fully." The way Suguru's face had paled only confirmed the worst for Satoru; you hadn't understood. You had seen their leaving as the worst kind of betrayal. Shoko had refused to tell them more, stubborn in her loyalty to you.

At first, it was easier to hide shame behind a kind of disdain. Of course you hadn't understood what it had been like, being rejected so violently by parents you once loved. Of course you hadn't understood what it was like to feel the noose tighten around your neck until you knew you would either run, or die. Maybe if you couldn't let them go, it meant you truly had never loved them anyways.

As the months grew, slowly and surely, the tangle of excuses unraveled. You might not have understood, but you had defended him silently in small rebellious ways. The eyeshadow palette that still sat at his vanity. The birthday card you'd made him when you turned 14, with a small rainbow under the phrase "I'll love you no matter what." You too had felt the noose; you'd spent years fighting it, fighting your hatred of the small town you were forced to grow up in. "Satoru, Suguru, Shoko," you would tell them, "one day we'll all move out of here into the nicest, fanciest apartment in the city."

Grief was love with nowhere to go, and in that particular moment, Satoru found your absence particularly painful. Sighing, he stretches, resting his chin on the back of the couch to stare at the clock. 12:36; Suguru was probably still awake. Quietly, Satoru pads to the spare room in the apartment he shares with Suguru that they'd converted into their music and production room. Unsurprisingly, he finds Suguru perched on an old barstool they thrifted, gently strumming the strings of the guitar you'd gifted him so long ago.

"Satoru," Suguru says softly, pausing. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

Wordlessly, Satoru wraps his arms around him, nuzzling into the slope of his neck. After a few moments, he speaks.

"I miss her."

He can feel the way Suguru stiffens slightly in his arms, before exhaling, tension releasing from his shoulders. "I miss her too. I've been thinking, Satoru."

"That's dangerous for you," Satoru chides, and Suguru rolls his eyes fondly.

"You're such a brat. I've been thinking, what if we went back?"

Satoru blanches, staring at Suguru. "What?"

"Not permanently," Suguru hastily amends, knowing how deep Satoru's scars run. "Just enough to...I don't know, Satoru. We messed up really badly. I know there's a large chance she won't even be there anymore. She used to always tell us about how she couldn't wait to move to the city. But we can at least start there, right?"

The news of Satoru's hiatus caused enough ripples for even you to notice it. Despite the fact you avoided anything to do with both his and Suguru's music career, every news outlet, radio channel, and social media post had something to say about it. Hell, you couldn't even open the local newspaper without seeing his face plastered on it, lamenting his temporary break from the group's next comeback.

Frowning, you slam the kitchen cabinet door a bit harder than necessary. Why should you care? If anything, you should be gloating with this piece of information, that not everything was perfect in Gojo Satoru's idol career. Yet, a small part of you still worried. Was he eating alright? Did something happen to Suguru? Should you call Shoko?

The door chimes, startling you out of your thoughts. Your parents are back in the hospital undergoing another round of treatments but they could have came back early. Sighing, you walk over to the door, opening it without a second thought.

"Hi, what-"

In that moment, you feel several emotions. Regret, that you hadn't checked who it was before opening it. An odd blend of concern and fear; why had they come back, was something horribly wrong? Most overpoweringly, was the deep sense of anger that welled up inside of you, seeing both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru standing on your doorstep.

"You're here," Sator- Gojo, breathes, crystalline blue eyes greedily drinking in the sight of you. He reaches for you, but you flinch back.

"What are you doing here?"

You're surprised to see that Gojo seems hurt by that statement. Sugu- Geto steps closer. "We wanted to see you."

"Oh, so a whim?" You can't help the harshness of your voice, or the way that your voice trembles ever so slightly. "Its been years, Geto. Five years since you left, and you come back now? What am I, just an afterthought? I already knew that but my god you're such an asshole."

"That's not what I'm saying," Geto sighs, and you want to throttle him. "We missed you so much, I can't even-"

You can't help but cut him off, fists clenched and hot tears pooling in your eyes. "You could have left a note. You could have left me an address, could have reached out once you settled in, anything!"

It's Gojo's turn to speak, hands fidgeting as if he wants to pull you close. "Our managers-"

"I don't care!"

A hush falls after your outburst, and you can't help the tears that slip down your cheeks. "Did I really mean that little to you? I would have left with you, I would have done anything for you, so don't you dare try to come up with an excuse. Don't try to tell me that your managers stopped you. I loved you." Your voice breaks. "How could you?"

Both men look ashamed. Geto is the first to speak. "We thought you would have moved away. We lost our original numbers, and Shoko refused to-"

Your eyes flash. "Don't try to blame Shoko for this. Unlike the two of you, she stayed with me."

Gojo flinches. "That's not fair. We didn't have a choice, why can't you see that?"

A sardonic laugh escapes your lips. "See what? All I see is the choice you made in leaving me behind."

"What happened to you?" Geto breathes, and you fight the urge to slap him. "You were so adamant that you would get out of this town."

"Well I can't," you hiss. "Not all of us can abandon their loved ones without a second thought."

Gojo's face looks like you've just shattered his world. "You never left?"

Something in the way he says that breaks something inside of you. "Mom and Dad have whatever Grandmother had," you tell them. You're not even sure why you're saying this, but there's a sick sense of pleasure in watching it start to sink in. "There's nobody else to help take care of them. Whenever she can, Shoko will try her best to stop by."

"You've been alone," Geto murmurs, horrified.

Venom fills your mouth. "I have been since I was sixteen, thanks for asking. You think I didn't notice that you two were together? You never even said anything to me and I still figured it out." Gojo's face pales but you plow forward. "It was always Satoru and Suguru, Gojo and Geto, but what about me? I was there too, wasn't I?" Blood drips down your palms; you're digging your nails in hard enough to cut. "You two forgot about me. You discarded me, left me behind. Did you really think so little of me? Did you really think I would treat you like everyone else in this town?" You can see the pain in Geto's eyes. "As if it wasn't enough, I had to see you everywhere. It's nice seeing how quickly both of you replaced me with other women."

Gojo calls your name but you shake your head, vision blurring. "Go fuck yourself, both of you. Don't talk to me. I wish you'd never come back." Whirling back inside, you slam the door, ignoring the frantic banging and shouts. As you sink to the floor, you finally allow yourself to sob, curled up against the solid wood doorframe. I thought it was over, you think miserably. But somehow it hurts more than the day they left.

[aurumalatus]

kinich & 14 pleaasseeee 👉👈

okay just an a/n i know only people with ancient names can join nightwarden wars and that if reader had an ancient name they could start their own team but for the sake of fanfic let's just ignore that fact HAHAHHA

"kinich, can i please be on your team?"

your heart drops when he shakes his head, turning away to finish packing his bag. so he still thinks i'm too weak, you think to yourself.

you've been begging kinich to let you be on his pilgrimage team for years, but he's never relented. there's always something holding him back, whether it be "too many people" or "you're not ready yet".

but you're ready, and you know you are. you've been training and improving and growing for years, and you're ready to show kinich and natlan that you have what it takes. but for some reason, kinich just won't ever accept you.

"what's wrong with me, kinich? what about me isn't good enough for you?"

"it's not about that and you know it."

"so then what is it about? because from where i'm standing, it seems like you're just saying no to be a jerk."

"you don't understand—"

"no, you don't understand!" the tension breaks, a yell finally bursting from your throat. kinich pauses, looking back at you in surprise.

"i've put my life into being someone strong enough to stand by your side, but no matter what i do, it's...it's not enough."

tears sting at the corners of your eyes.

"i'm not enough for you. i know i'm not strong—"

he's crossing the room toward you—

"and i can't fight like others can, but i'm strong enough—"

when he reaches you, he cups your face, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—the words get trapped in your throat. and though your body burns with anger and shame, you melt into him, curling your fingers into his hair.

his voice comes out uncharacteristically quiet when he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

"you have to understand...if something happened to you? if i couldn't stop it, and you fell? i don't think i'd ever be able to move on from that. it would...it would destroy me."

his vulnerability stuns you, and you sigh.

"how do you think i feel every time that you go? it's because i trust you, your strength, and our bond that i trust you to come back to me every time."

his lips form a thin line, jaw clenching—he's thinking.

"kinich, please."

another moment passes.

"okay," he finally murmurs in reply, pressing a kiss to your palm. it's a silent promise. "but please, please don't leave my side."

no one fights alone.

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[lokideservesahug]

For How Long!?!

Chapter 11: The Future

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Pairings: Logan Sargeant x fem!driver!Reader

Warnings: Mentions od marriage and one mention of a child in a single sentence but that's it I think.

Summary: So what exactly happened after Y/N and Logan told the world of their relationship?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: The Greatest day of my life. Not only did I manage to secure the thing I've been dreaming of since I qas a kid, but also the love of my life asked me one of the most important questions ever.

I want to thank everyone at the Aston Martin Aramco F1 team from the analysts to the paint engineers to the assistants to the PR team. Thank you all for helping me reach the championship and letting me work with you. Well done on your amazing and ever zo hard work that without, I never would have be able to be remembered in the history books. 💚

And Logan, I have loved you ever since I met you all those years ago. You are the light of my life, the reason I keep going and truly the only reason I was able to stand up on that top step. I love you more than anything and thank you for further making me the happiest woman alive when you asked me the question with the easiest awnser in the world.

Liked by Logansargeant, Astonmartinf1, Oscarpiastri and 3,890,213 others

View all 213,674 comments

Logansargeant: I love you more than anything in the world. I love you so much and thank you for making me the happiest man alive by saying yes 💙

Oscarpiastri: Well done Y/N. Your skills on the track are truly amazing and I'm so proud of how far you've come from the tiny Y/L/N girl I first met years ago. And of course @Logansargeant, well done on finally getting the nerves to ask her. You two are great together and Good luck for a prosperous future.

↳ Yourusername: Thank you for everything Osc💚

↳ Logansargeant: Thank you man, it means a lot (and thanks for all your help in the proposal build up)

↳ User1: I am literally sobbing omd

↳ User2: Please I can't do this😭 My heart is so full

Astonmartinf1: Well done on everything Y/N, our hero 💚

↳ Yourusername: ILY admin!! 💚

↳ User3: AWWWW

User 4: I think I fainted ngl

↳ User 5: Literally same omd

Liamlawson: Well done mate. You had a great performance in the championship and put on an even better show at the LVGP. And well done to the both of you for finally getting closer to tying the knot.

↳ Yourusername: Thank you and shush Liam. There's no better time than both good things at once

↳ User 6: AYO🤨😏

User 7: Literally speechless

↳ User 8: Ikr. I can't even process this let alone fathom how to respond...

User 9: aiaoanznbsuzuz just woah. What a great way to end the Las Vegas GP

↳ User 10: IKR. LIKE I AM LOSONG IT

User 11: Romance but make it "the reason I keep going and truly the only reason I was able to stand up on that top step". YOIRE NEVER HESRIMG DROM ME BECAUSE I'M TO BUSY SOBBING MY HEART OUT

↳ User 12: Forget Romeo and Juliet, I wanst what these two have

↳ Yourusername: Yeah I'm ot a poet but Logan desreve she's form of appreciation from at least someone.

User 13: Awwww. Please stop. My heart can't take it!!!

User 14: So baby Sargeant coming when?

Liked by Oscarpiastri

↳ User 15: Captain of the Y/Ngan ship, Oscar is back again!!! Boy how I've missed you!

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

And with that, the series comes to an end :(. Now it is likely that I'll post a few extras but thank you all so much for the support on my first ever fan fiction!!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback are always welcome!!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @littlesatanicassholebitch @insanedeathwish @a-disturbing-self-reflection @ems-alexandra @marymustdie @mehrmonga

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: I Couldn't Just Let Him Die

So one thing I don't think is touched on enough is the fact that Danny never wanted to be a hero. Like, yeah, we all know he didn't want o be a hero and he makes a joke about it but when we actually think about it this was a life he choose because nobody else was there to help. The main reason?

He didn't want people to get hurt.

Something Batman would relate to.

Now, while I love the idea of Danny absolutely beating the shit out of Joker or any villain who absolutely deserves to have their shit rocked by a kid who is only 5'5" and weighs at most 120 pounds, when we actually think about Danny's character what's more likely? Again, no hate to any of the people who do those fics, keep it up, I love seeing Joker get his just deserts.

But hear me out.

Warnings for fighting, violence, and DC typical weapons.

There was a new meta in Gotham and he was driving Bruce crazy. This kid showed up out of the blue with absolutely no information on him anywhere online or otherwise with tech so outdated not even Oracle could hack it. The only thing Bruce knew about the kid was that he called himself 'Phantom' and that he was a teenager around 14 years old.

Other than that the kid had been a pain in the ass.

Muggings? Phantom took care of it by saving the person then lecturing the person until a Bat or police showed up then literally vanished.

Fires? Phantom would fly in and out of burning buildings repeatedly with no care for his own safety. No mask, no fire protection, nothing but the thin suit he wore.

Kidnappings? Don't worry, Phantom had it handled long before Batman could even get the call to help! EVEN WHEN IT WAS ONE OF HIS OWN KIDS WHO GOT KIDNAPPED!

Granted, Phantom never got in the way of a fight but the amount of evidence that was lost due to what he was doing and how he was doing it was inconvenient. Fingerprints got wiped, evidence of what started fires were covered in an unmeltable ice, kidnappers took off the second their captive was freed and were practically untraceable after that.

It wasn't until a massive Arkham breakout that he actually got to properly meet the kid. Every prisoner had broken out and the city plunged into madness as heroes ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. Villains against heroes, criminals verse vigilantes, villains verses criminals - it was a madhouse.

Batman could hardly keep track of it all but when one of Penguin's men threw a bomb into a crowd and it landed near Joker's feet there was a long silence. It was like the city had fallen silent all around him as Batman tried to get to the bomb.

Joker was a villain.

Joker had hurt his family, killed millions of innocents including his own son, but he was sick. He didn't deserve to die.

Apparently Phantom agreed because he flew faster than Batman could track him shoving Joker away from the bomb before encasing the bomb in ice.

"Hey! What's the big idea shovin' me, bub?!" Joker said, seemingly forgetting about the bomb that was still in the kids hand. Joker walked right up to Phantom, glaring down at the shorter male who just looked at him. "Think you're some kind of hero?!"

Phantom blinked, "I feel like answering that is a trap."

Joker grabbed Phantom by the front of his shirt, "A funny guy, huh? Think you can out joke the Joker?"

"Again. That feels like a trap. I'm not trying to do anything, Clowny. But I wasn't about to let you die."

Joker glared, "Why?"

Phantom slipped out of Joker's hands somehow, much to Joker's confusion. "Because that's not who I am. Criminal or not, I'm not going to let you die if I can protect you."

"Who says I need protection?"

Phantom held up the bomb again with a deadpan look. "Lucky guess." He said, then suddenly noticed something to his right. "Oh, gotta go. Later Clowny."

"IT'S JOKER!" Joker shouted after Phantom as he flew away. "Batman! Teach your baby bats some manners!"

"He's not mine, Joker." Batman said, marching over, grabbing Joker's wrists and cuffing them behind his back.

Not yet anyway. But with a mentality like that... maybe this pain in the ass could learn a thing or two from a Bat.

[ckret2]

Chapter 14 of Human Bill Is A Prisoner And Only Mabel Is Being Nice To Him (real title TBD), and the conclusion of the first big plot arc:

Also featuring: what Pacifica has been up to the past year! Dipper and Mabel arguing about Bill! The hand witch, briefly! Funny pranks that Ford does not think are funny! And other things.

####

Dipper and Mabel waved goodbye as they left the Hand Witch's cave. The witch, her boyfriend, and Mabel's spare right hand on the witch's shoulder waved back.

"Thanks for helping us out on such short notice," Dipper said.

"Oh, any time!" the witch said. "Come back whenever you like! I'll make tea and snacks again."

"Girl, you know I'm always up for more of your..." Mabel flashed the witch a pair of finger guns and a wink, "... finger food!"

Her spare hand made a finger gun back. The witch laughed so hard she wheezed. Her boyfriend leaned down to pat her back.

As Mabel and Dipper wove their way down the Hand Witch's mountain, Mabel said, "It's good to see she's found a relationship. She seems happy! And less desperate."

"I dunno, I'm kind of worried about that guy. What if he's just using her to learn her handomancy secrets?"

"Naaah, I'm not worried about him. He's a really bad apprentice. I think he's just letting her train him as a bonding activity. Like when girls let their boyfriends explain football so they can watch games together." Mabel turned to peer at the dark cave above. "Do you think Alehandra will be lonely without me?"

"Wh—you already named it?"

"Hands come in pairs, Dipper. Maybe she'd like a twin sister." She looked at Dipper's hands. "Or brother."

"Oh no. Uh-uh, I can see where this is going. We've already gotten in enough trouble with that stuff."

Mabel's phone buzzed. They must have gotten near enough town to get reception again. She pulled out her phone, saw a text from Soos, and swiped it open. "Mabel, this is Ford..."

"Speaking of growing extra hands," Dipper said. "Mabel... I think this whole thing is a bad idea. I mean—worse than it was originally. Getting Bill magic hair growth formula is one thing, but, growing extra limbs? I don't know what he could do with that, but he could do something."

Mabel's thumbs hovered over the screen, paralyzed as she tried to figure out what to tell Ford and Dipper at the same time.

The truth was, she'd had the same worry as Dipper. She lowered her phone. "Yeah, okay, maybe he could possibly do something with it hypothetically—but clearly the whole reason he asked for it was for the hair growth part! Because he's bald. So maybe he just... doesn't care about the rest? If we get only enough Hairy Fairy to regrow his hair and use it all up, then he won't have a chance to use it for anything evil, right?"

"Unless he's not even interested in regrowing his hair." Dipper pulled off his backpack and rummaging through it until he found the advertisement Ford had given him. "Look, everything in this ad lines up with what Bill told us about Hairy Fairy's history. If he knew that much, he definitely could know it can grow extra limbs. He might have even known it was coming back on the market before he saw the commercial! What if the only reason he burned off his hair was to manipulate us into getting this formula?"

"What would he do with a bunch of extra body parts?" Mabel asked. "He's clumsy enough with the ones he already has. I kinda think more would make him weaker."

"I don't know, but—I didn't know what he wanted a 'puppet' for, either, and see how that turned out?"

Mabel bit her lip, looking at Dipper's face—and then looked down at her phone, rereading the last sentence of Ford's text. "I'm worried he might be up to something nefarious."

She couldn't have this conversation in two places at once. She typed a quick reply to Ford—"It's too complicated to explain in text! I'll tell you when Dipper and I get home. (It's NOT dangerous, don't worry!) ❤️"—and stuffed her phone in her pocket. "Okay," she said. "Look. Sure, it makes sense to be extra paranoid with Bill—especially when we saw him finish his big master plan last summer—but honestly? I kinda don't think he's that good. Think about how many times Grunkle Ford says he tried and failed to get into our universe! I don't think he's a big alien super-genius with a careful zillion-year plan; I think he's just some guy that needed to try a zillion years just to get one plan to work. And that's... kind of lame. What can a guy like that do with hair formula?"

Dipper absorbed that. "Wow. Yeah, actually, when you put it that way, that—that isn't very impressive." He grimaced. "But—okay, even if he didn't have a complicated escape plan, what if he saw the hair formula and thought of one that he needs extra arms for—?"

"Dipper, we can 'but what if' Bill forever!" She flung out her hands in frustration. "If we second-guess everything he says, we'll start wondering stuff like 'what if he wants us to distrust him so he can reverse-psychology us into doing the thing he actually wants?' It'll drive us crazy! And letting Bill drive us crazy won't make us safer! We can't spend another summer being paranoid about Evil Bill Tricks!"

"Okay yeah, you have a point, but—why is the solution 'do what he wants'? Why isn't it 'tell him no, and cover our ears whenever he tries to say he wants something so we don't even know what he wants and he can't manipulate us'?"

Mabel's mind flashed back to the sad ghost under the zodiac blanket, huddled in a dusty corner. She looked at her feet and kicked a clump of grass self-consciously. "Because... he's sad and it's making me sad."

Dipper groaned. "Mabel."

"I know—"

"Mabel, he could be acting sad on purpose—"

"I know he could, I know, I KNOW!" Mabel let out all her accumulated Bill-induced frustration in a scream that startled several birds out of a nearby tree. She jumped furiously on the clump of grass. "He probably thinks I'm a big soft sucker! He's the worst and I hate him so much!"

"YES!" Dipper aimed a kick at the grass clump. "He's the worst ever! It's his fault we're even having this argument!"

"This summer was supposed to be different!"

"No apocalypses, no murder attempts, and no demon triangles!"

"No triangles at ALL! I don't even like geometry!"

When they'd collaboratively destroyed the grass clump, they fell silent, breathing heavily, staring at the upturned dirt. "I needed that," Mabel said. After a moment, she knelt down and tried to set the mangled grass back upright. The grass did nothing to deserve this.

Dipper leaned against a tree. "So. Are we giving up on the hair stuff?"

Mabel carefully patted a mound of dirt around what was left of the base of the grass. "I... still wanna go through with it."

Dipper had used up all his frustration on the grass. He sighed. "If you're gonna get that stuff for Bill no matter what I say, then... why are you trying to talk me into it?"

"Because I'm not going to do it. Not unless you agree."

"You... what?"

"Dipper, I feel like this is the right thing to do—but that's why I need to know what you think. The last time we didn't talk things out, the world almost ended! We always make better decisions together than we do apart. If I can't say anything that makes you think it's worth the risk, then—I'll give up. I'll tell Bill we couldn't get the stuff, and offer to get him a discount wig after Summerween, and... that's it." Mabel shrugged. "I'm scared too. I keep wondering stuff like 'what if he gives himself leg stilts and climbs out the chimney? What if he grows seven fingers and can finally overpower Ford?' But that's stupid."

She looked up at Dipper. "I want to make sure that if we give up, it's because there really is a danger. I don't want to refuse to help somebody suffering just because we're scared of him."

Dipper slid down to sit on the grass and watch Mabel give the grass clump first aid. Once Mabel was satisfied enough to sit back and wipe her hands off on her skirt, Dipper said, "Yeah. I am scared of him. He's tricked me with some misleading wording before, and I don't want it to happen again. I want to say I'm just being logical, but... right now, maybe I'm doing more feeling than thinking, too." He shrugged. "The truth is, I can't think of anything he could do with the hair growth formula that isn't so ridiculous, even I don't believe it's possible."

Mabel nodded. "Are you scared enough to say 'no'? If you are, we'll quit."

"No, I'm not." Dipper heaved a sigh. "I guess... let's do it. But I want to be as careful as possible. We'll get just barely enough to regrow his hair, one of us will apply the formula so he can't misuse it—"

"I can do that," Mabel said. "I've already slathered like a whole bucket of yellow paint on his face."

"Okay. And I'll watch the whole time as backup, in case he tries anything."

"Barty can watch from the vents as the backup-backup, too!"

"Good idea."

"Boom! Flawless plan!" Mabel grinned. "Now let's go see Pacifica!"

####

The address Pacifica had given them led to a small fenced-in pasture outside town.

Over the main gate was a sign that read "Platinum Alpaca Estates".

In the pasture, a half dozen pink-collar-wearing alpacas placidly grazed.

And standing in front of it all—wearing immaculately tailored lavender overalls, a set of white rhinestone-studded boots and cowboy hat, and a nervous smile—was Pacifica.

Dipper and Mabel gaped.

Dipper said, "What the— What is—"

"Pacifica what."

Pacifica held up her hands. "Okay wait, just let me explain! After my family lost our mansion last year, I could only keep one horse? Which was devastating! I needed to fill the void of hoofed mammals in my life somehow."

Mabel leaned over the fence. "So you got alpacas?"

"I was actually inspired by the llama sweater you gave me." Pacifica gave Mabel a small, crooked smile. "It reminded me that I've always secretly thought alpacas are cute, and I really like alpaca wool goods, so I thought... you know... what if I try it out?" She opened the gate, gesturing for the twins to follow her toward a small barn. "And I actually really love it! These are like, my babies. And I'm talking with some fashion brands about maybe selling them some luxury wool?"

She led them into the barn, and then into a small office being cooled by a window A/C unit. Several wool garments, protected in glass cases, were proudly displayed on the walls with labels underneath: "First Sweater", "First Scarf", "First Blanket"—

"Hey!" Mabel pointed at the familiar blanket, creamy white with the anti-Bill zodiac in ochre yellow. "That's the one I made! Did the yarn you sent me to make it come from your alpacas?"

"It did! You're the first person to make anything with their wool."

"Whoa."

"I actually want to use my symbol from the circle as our brand. I'm waiting to hear from my copyright lawyer about who I need to talk to for the rights to the image—if it's you or your great-uncle, or if it's still with the tribe that left the valley like a thousand years ago, or if it's public domain," Pacifica said. "It's a vague enough shape, I think it could look like either a llama or an alpaca, right?"

Mabel considered what Bill had said about Pacifica's symbol, considered the small alpaca herd visible through the office window, and said, "I have it on good authority that it's supposed to be an alpaca."

"So, wait," Dipper said. "What does this have to do with your modeling job?"

"The ranch isn't turning a profit yet. I'm still in talks with the brands that want our wool, and in the meantime I've got to hire more people to help. I don't know the hard stuff about taking care of alpacas, I just kind of brush their wool and make friends with them while my employees do the hard stuff."

Dipper snorted.

"Hey! I'm learning! But I've only been doing this a few months." Pacifica sank down into her desk chair, propping her chin in her hands. "Almost all my allowance and side gig income is going toward my alpacas. My parents don't want to invest in my startup!" She pouted. "They said if I want to act like a rancher instead of a socialite, it'll be on my own dime."

"So that's why you're working two summer jobs?" Dipper said. "Oh, man. I should have known something was up. I thought it was weird when you said your parents wouldn't pay for a spring and summer wardrobe."

"Yeah, I spent my spring wardrobe budget on this barn," Pacifica said. "I figure I'm investing in my future wardrobe, you know?"

Mabel planted her hands on Pacifica's desk. "Pacifica, I can see how important this is. I've run a business myself—I appreciate the pressure you're under. But, how about this: we could help each other! If you get us a tiiiny bit of that formula, I'll come over once a week for the rest of summer to help out with your alpacas. For free!"

Pacifica blinked. "What?"

"And that way, even if you do get in trouble and lose your Hairy Fairy job, you'll still have someone to help you out!"

Dipper's eyes widened. "Um—Pacifica, could you give us a moment?" He grabbed Mabel's elbow and tugged her out of the office.

"What is it?"

Dipper whispered, "Are you sure you wanna make that kind of commitment for the rest of summer? For Bill's sake?"

"Dipperrr, it's like working in a petting zoo!" She gestured toward the office window. "Look at how soft they are!"

"Oh, boy."

"And maybe I could get some luxury alpaca wool! I'm gonna have the fanciest sweaters."

Dipper grimaced, but decided Mabel would probably have looked for an excuse to spend time around the alpacas regardless of the situation. "Okay. Have at her." He nodded back toward the office.

When Mabel and Dipper came back in, Pacifica was sitting up straighter, hands laced on her desk, a miniature businesswoman entertaining a business proposal. "I appreciate the offer," Pacifica said. "But I don't think a few hours of labor a week balance out the profits I could make at my modeling job. It just doesn't make financial sense. I'm sorry, Mabel. I've got to think of my alpacas."

"I understand. But—I've got to think of my not-friend. If you could just see..." She trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "Dipper! Let me get in your backpack."

"Um, okay—?"

Mabel rummaged around in the main pouch. "I'm sure we left it... Ha!" She slapped down a ziplock bag containing the lock of Bill's hair that they'd collected to make his poppet. "This... is the person I'm trying to help." She crossed her arms triumphantly. "Okay, not the person, but it's his hair anyway."

Pacifica's brows shot up. "Oh, wow." She opened the bag and carefully extracted a few strands to examine. "This is the most golden golden hair I've ever seen. And look at it. Little oily, could use a good conditioner, damaged roots, but otherwise amazing health, no split ends..." Pacifica looked at Mabel, pointed at the baggie, and asked, "Virgin?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "I have no idea and I never ever want to find out."

"No! I mean is this the natural color and texture, or has it been treated?"

"Oh. I'm pretty sure it just came like that?" She looked at Dipper.

Dipper shrugged. "I mean, probably? I doubt he hit up a salon before coming to the Mystery Shack."

"And... you say he had a bad haircut?" Pacifica asked. "What does he look like now?"

Gently, Mabel said, "Bald."

Pacifica let out the softest gasp. "Okay. I get it. I'll help. And also send over a couple of conditioner samplers, because whoever your friend is, he has not been taking care of his hair lately. Natural beauty can only carry him so far. I'll have the conditioners overnighted to your shack."

"Great!" A wide smile broke out across Mabel's face. "Thank you so much, Pacifica! And the formula, too?"

"Actually, I can give you that right now." Pacifica pulled a small green Hairy Fairy bottle from one of her overall pockets.

Mabel gasped in delight. Dipper said, "Wait, you had that the whole time?"

"When we escaped the country club, I accidentally still had the bottle we'd used for the live demonstration in my pocket," Pacifica said. "I was going to replace it tomorrow morning before anyone goes looking for it; I'll just give you guys a few drops and make up the difference with a little alpaca shampoo. Hopefully, nobody will notice the difference."

Mabel said, "Pacifica, you're the best!"

"I know." Pacifica leaned across the desk to put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."

"Sure! What?"

"I won't be able to do this a second time," Pacifica said. "So you'd better make sure your friend takes care of his hair."

####

Bill squinted at the chocolate chip-sized dollop of lotion at the bottom of the quart-sized plastic food container. "Gotta hand it to you, Shooting Star. This is the funniest way you could have transported the formula."

"We forgot to bring anything to put it in." Mabel snapped on a pair of yellow dish gloves and pointed at the kitchen floor. "Okay! Sit down so I can reach and let me work my magic."

"What, don't think I can handle it myself?" But he sat down even as he protested. He'd already removed his cardboard triangle helmet—which now sat, battered and bent, on the kitchen table—and had washed off his paint/makeup as well as he could without requesting shower access.

Mabels scooped the dollop of lotion onto one gloved finger, then massaged it across her fingertips. "I'm your official makeup artist now! I've gotta do it. Besides, you missed a chunk of hair when you were removing it, you'd probably miss a chunk when you were putting it back on."

"Eh, fair enough. Okay kid, do your worst."

As Mabel coated Bill's scalp, the chemical burns he'd given himself while removing his hair vanished, replaced with new healthy skin—and Dipper quietly lamented, once again, that this stuff was being marketed to grow hair and not regrow limbs. He'd have to document it thoroughly in his journal later.

Dipper was sitting at the bottom of the attic stairs, watching the proceedings in the kitchen, armed with Mabel's grappling gun to use as a projectile weapon if Bill dared try anything. But Bill just sat there, legs crossed with his feet on his thighs and his hands palm-up on his knees like he was meditating, not even turning his head as Mabel worked.

Mabel jerked her hands back in surprise as a fresh layer of golden hair sprang out of Bill's scalp—then quickly reached in again, massaging the lotion into all the strands and coaxing them out until they were all around shoulder length, the same as they'd started. "There! Ta-da! Good as new!"

As the hair crawled down Bill's temples, tickled his ears, brushed his cheeks, he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and clenched his jaw, straining hard to keep from moving. His open hands curled into fists. Dipper raised the grappling hook. But when Bill turned to face Mabel, he was all grins again, and if Dipper hadn't known to look for it he wouldn't have noticed the anxious tic in Bill's eyebrow. "Well? How do I look?"

"Gorgeous! If the real Goldilocks saw you, she'd have to change her name in shame."

"Ha! That's what I like to hear!" Bill un-pretzeled his legs and stood up. "And you did it without giving me any spare eyebrows, too." So he did know about the side-effects.

"Oh, pfff, yeah, I'm not lowering my guard around that stuff again. The first time I opened a bottle, I got some on me and grew an extra hand!"

"No! Really?" Bill gave Mabel's gloved hands a skeptical look. "Where's it now?"

"I donated it to the Hand Witch."

"Ahh, pity. You could've had some fun with your temporary crown."

"'Crown'?"

"Most fingers in the household?"

Mabel's eyes bugged out, and then a manic smile took over her face, as if her brain had just been flooded with more glee than her face could process. She yanked off the gloves, hastily rubbed them on her left wrist, and shouted, "GRUNKLE FOOORD!" She sprinted through the entryway and took the turn down the hallway so fast she ran a couple steps up on the wall before landing back on the floor. "Grunkle Ford, guess what!"

Dipper almost followed her—until he caught Bill moving in the corner of his eye, bending down to pick up the discarded gloves. Dipper raised the grappling hook. What was Bill planning to do with them—use the remainder to mutate himself? Save them to use later? Eat them—?

Bill dropped the gloves in the plastic container the lotion had come in, sealed the lid, and dropped them in the kitchen waste bin. Under his breath, he muttered, "The last thing I need is the pig sniffing this and growing an extra snout." He paused. "Wait. That would be funny."

From the other side of the house, Ford's voice bellowed, "BILL!"

Bill's head snapped around to face the kitchen doorway—and for the first time he glanced at Dipper sitting on the stairs. "Hey. What do you bet he didn't even let Mabel explain before deciding this is my fault?"

"Uh..."

Mabel and Ford's approach could be tracked through Mabel's hasty explanation: "Grunkle Ford, it's just a prank! I'm okay, see? I'm gonna donate Mirhanda to the Hand Witch, it'll be fine—"

The moment Ford saw Bill, he made a beeline for him and seized him by his t-shirt collar. "What did you do to her?! Answer me, Cipher!"

"I didn't! I'm innocent! I plea the fifth! I've been falsely accused! I was framed! Mercy!" The sincerity of his pleas was somewhat undermined by the fact that he couldn't stop laughing the whole time Ford was trying to menace him. His too-wide gleeful smile looked a lot like Mabel's.

####

"Okay, Pacifica," the director said. "This commercial is for the teen market, so we want you to talk to the camera like you're talking to your peers, all right? And by that, I don't mean your real peers. I mean the slightly less rich girls who would do anything you asked to be considered one of your peers."

"Don't worry, I've got this," Pacifica said. She positioned herself on her stool, hands laced over her knees, and said, "Ready when you are."

"And... action!"

Pacifica gave the camera her best haughty-but-not-too-haughty look, the one that said maybe if you say something interesting to me I'll double your social standing for fun, and launched into her memorized lines: "Hey, I'm Pacifica Northwest—you all know me, most of you probably want to be me. Listen, girls: have you ever tried to go short and it just didn't work out? Maybe that pixie cut makes your ears look weird, maybe those bangs are not for you. If you wish you looked as great as me, I have just the thing for you..."

Everything continued as normal, until Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula was applied to her hair... and nothing happened. Pacifica stumbled over a word, and then kept going, as if maybe no one would notice if she didn't draw attention to it. As she was wrapping up her monologue, her hair finally... slowly started growing... and stopped at half its usual length. Pacifica bit her lip.

"Pacifica!"

She winced and turned toward her boss, feigning a look of innocent surprise. "Yes, Mr. Haroldson?"

"What did you put in your hair! You know you're not supposed to have any product in your hair on shoot days!"

"Nothinggg! I've been following my hair care instructions perfectly! And I had it rinsed just before the shoot like always!"

"Well—what's the problem, then?" Mr. Haroldson turned to the hazmat-suited hairdresser holding the formula bottle.

"I don't know." He took off his mask. "This is the same sample bottle we used at the country club demonstration, it should be fine..." He took a sniff of it, and grimaced. "What...? That's not our usual fragrance, is it?" Mr. Haroldson leaned over to sniff as well.

She'd been found out. She was doomed. Her poker face collapsed like a house of cards. "Okay fine I took a few drops for a friend and maybe replaced it with a little bit of shampoo, so what!" She pointed at Mr. Haroldson. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? Fire me? Go ahead, see if I care! I can get a million better modeling jobs in a week!"

Mr. Haroldson's expression darkened in rage—and then he said, "Pacifica, you're a genius!"

"Huh?"

"Watering it down! Of course! We can sell unaltered bottles to hook new customers and then stretch out our supply by giving repeat customers the weak stuff—we'll tell them that it's less effective if they're overusing it! We can keep up that scam for years, it's not like the FDA is regulating this stuff! Why, we could even make a whole new product!" He turned to wave at an assistant, "Call R&D, get R&D on the phone—we'll make a formula designed to grow short hair. We can call it... Pixie Dust Pixie Cuts! It's all thanks to you, Pacifica!" He beamed at her.

She beamed back.

He said, "You're not getting credit or a raise though."

"Pshhh, obviously. I know how this industry works."

"All right, back to work." He pointed at the director. "Crack open a new bottle and let's wrap this up ASAP. I've got to schedule some meetings about the new product line."

####

"Well, he didn't grow himself eight arms," Dipper said, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He was going over a map of Gravity Falls he'd taken from the gift shop, circling locations of potential paranormal activity he wanted to investigate over the summer. Bill-tainted places got an additional triangle. "And I took out the kitchen trash to make sure Bill couldn't go back for the formula later. I guess he wasn't up to anything after all." He paused. "... Unless he wanted the formula in our trash, and now it's multiplying the garbage or getting picked up by some sleeper agent outside the shack—"

"Stooop," Mabel said. She was carefully coloring in a green bottle of Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula in Dipper's journal; Dipper had started entrusting his journal's art duties to Mabel whenever they went on a joint investigation. "We can't start thinking like that! Remember, our therapist told us that paranoia is a natural coping mechanism for dealing with scary situations, but trusting people is healthy and a sign of healing!" She set down the journal so she could emphasize the word "healing" with jazz hands.

"I think that's supposed to apply to trusting normal people."

"Yeah, but still." The journal flipped a few pages as she picked it back up, and her eyes were caught by scribbles in bright highlighter yellow. "Hey, what's this new stuff? Did you make up a secret code to keep notes in? Can I learn?"

"Ugh. No, Bill did that. I left my journal out and he wrote a bunch of secret messages. It's probably telling me how I'm going to die or the names of all the girls who will reject me or something."

"Pff, probably. Have you shown Grunkle Ford? Maybe he knows it."

"Not yet. He's been too busy."

"Right..." And now, she was sure, he was probably mad at her personally for worrying him with the hand prank.

Mabel flipped through a few more pages, looking at the bright yellow notes. She glanced toward the window, scanning the trees outside. She sighed and got up, leaving Dipper's journal on her bed.

"What's up?"

"Now you've got me worrying about sleeper agents. I'm gonna make sure the gloves are still in the trash."

When she'd confirmed all the garbage was right where it was supposed to be and came back in the shack, she spotted Bill in the living room. He was scrunched up on one side of the sofa as close to the doorway as he could get, watching TV. He glanced over as she shut the front door and flashed a grin. "Hey, Shooting Star. What're you up to?"

Ah, great. They were on casual chit-chat terms now. She edged toward the doorway but stayed outside the living room—sorry, not staying long—and said, "Oh, you know, just—looking at... the outdoors." Before he could dig further, she changed the topic. "So! How's that hair working out for you?"

"Ah." His smile wilted and his glance drifted back toward the TV. (He seemed to be watching the local news. Mabel decided he must've been really bored.) "Well, hair's still the worst thing that's ever grown on me and I still see a human in the mirror—but at least it's a human with a vaguely triangular silhouette. I can live with being back where I started."

"Sorry we couldn't come up with a real solution." As glad as she was to finish her obligation to Bill, she hated that all her efforts hadn't even really helped. Some problem-solver she was.

"Yeah, well. You can't build a pyramid out of meat. You did the best you could." Bill turned to fully face Mabel. "But, hey—listen." He had one eye squeezed shut but the other one stared her down with the intensity of a spotlight, paralyzing her in place. "Even if it's not perfect, I appreciate the effort you put in."

"Hey, it's no big deal. Crafts are my whole thing! It was kinda fun."

"No, I'm serious," Bill said. "I know I'm the town bogeyman, and everyone's only putting up with me until they find the easiest way to obliterate me. But you did a lot more than just 'put up with me.' And, well—don't tell the others I said this," he rolled his eye toward the hall to the rest of the house, and lowered his voice, "but... it's been a long time since anybody's treated me with a little kindness. Longer than you can imagine. I think I'd forgotten what it feels like. Even if I don't have much time left to enjoy it—I'm grateful for the reminder, kid."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Bill, that..." A lump formed in her throat. How long had it been? As big a jerk as he was—centuries? Millennia?

She darted into the living room, squeezed Bill in a hug before he could protest, and then bolted up the stairs two at a time.

And Bill thought to himself, got her.

Humans were so easy. Once you figured out what they wanted to believe in, you could make them do anything you wanted.

Mabel wanted to believe that everyone everywhere yearned to be friends with everyone else, and that the only thing holding them back was the defensive walls they built around their emotions. Mabel wanted to see people's walls come down. Mabel wanted every social problem to be simple enough that even a child could solve it if they were earnest and honest enough.

Mabel shouldn't have let Bill watch Color Critters. It told him too much about the kind of world she idealized. He had that kid completely figured out—

There was a loud pounding as Mabel leaped back down the stairs three at a time. "On your feet!" She grabbed Bill's hands and tugged him off the sofa, then wrapped a measuring tape around his hips.

He twisted around in bewilderment as she circled him, now measuring his chest. "What—?"

"Face forward! Arms out from your sides!" She measured his shoulder span, then grabbed one arm to measure the length. "I'll be back later. I've got work to do. Do not come upstairs!"

Bill leaned out the doorway to watch her bunny-hop back up to the attic.

Okay, he had that kid mostly figured out.

Well, the odd quirks just made her a little more interesting than the average human. The important thing was that, whether she knew it or not, she wanted Bill to be her friend. She wanted to be the horse girl who tamed the hostile bronco, the beauty who saved the beast. She wanted monsters to swear their loyalty to cute spunky protagonists, and she thought she was a protagonist.

The "reformed bad boy" was outside of the usual characters he played—he was better as the ancient teacher, the playful trickster, the divine messenger—but it was an easy enough role, and it gave him plenty of room to misbehave while staying in character. It's so hard to change my old ways—but maybe it would be easier if you give me another chance, if you help me, if you do this one little thing for me...

There was a fun little quirk of human psychology that was so well-known they'd even given their own name to it: the Foot-In-The-Door Technique. Once you get a human to do you one small, tiny little favor, they'll be more likely to do you another, bigger favor later. Borrow a dollar today and they'll be more likely to let you borrow a hundred dollars next week. Ask them to drive you to the auto shop and you'll have a better chance of asking them to help you move. Get them to bring you a little hair solution, and... well, Bill would just have to wait and see what he wanted next.

As long as everything Bill asked for was harmless, there was nothing the warier members of the household could do to intervene without making themselves look like the unreasonable ones. And by the time Bill started asking for anything dangerous, he'd have Mabel eating out of the palm of his hand, and she'd have no idea until it was too late that she didn't mean a thing to him—

####

Bill stared dumbly in the mirror at the yellow yarn hoodie. "H—Did you just make this?" With his arms at his sides, from the shoulders down, it looked like a decapitated triangle. 

"I used velvet yarn for your brick pattern," Mabel said. "It makes the lines stand out more! And I cut one of Dipper's bow ties in half to make the hood's drawstring so you can tie it into a bow!"

Wordlessly, Bill tied the bow—it hung in the center of his chest—and then he pulled the hood on, tugging it low over his forehead, completing the triangle. Mabel had put an eye on the hood. She'd even remembered Bill's eyelashes.

"I thought, hey—if the mask was too much, and the hair is too little, maybe a hoodie's just right," Mabel said. "I don't usually make sweaters for people—sweater curse, blarrr, you know—but, this one time, I thought it was important." She gave Bill a nervous smile. "So... what do you think? Do you like it?"

Bill stared at his reflection. It was hideous, misshapen, and alien, but it was almost himself.

He looked at Mabel. He got down on his knees. He put a hand on her shoulder. He said, "I will kill one enemy of yours, for free, no questions asked, in any way you want."

Mabel blinked. "Please don't do that."

"When I take over the universe I'm giving you your own galaxy."

"I don't—I don't want a galaxy. What would I do with a whole galaxy?"

"A solar system. A planet? Everyone wants their own planet!"

Mabel shook her head.

"Then what do you want?" What the heck do human children like. "Can I show you a magic trick?"

Mabel considered that.

####

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford!" Mabel ran into the kitchen, pushing Waddles in front of her, breathless with excitement. "Look what I can do!" She held a clear plastic spoon at arm's length, peered through it at Waddles like it was a magnifying glass, and slowly lifted the spoon up. Waddles floated up into the air as well. He snorted in mild bafflement.

Stan's jaw dropped. Ford said, "Ohhh, boy."

Mabel beamed at them both.

####

(This chapter isn't quite as edited as I usually do, because I've been sick this past week but wanted to get it out anyway. Apologies for that and I'd appreciate if you noticed any typos or disjointed sentences! And I'd doubly appreciate any nice comments, I've been having a hell of a week.)

[midwesternvibes]

Thinking about my last post about a villan Leo, and honestly what would put him over the edge?

Because honestly, his brothers would keep him from becoming a true villan in almost every timeline, so what would be the thing to truly send him over the edge, without them dying and without any kind of mind control?

The only thing I can think of is if Leo truly believed that they don't love him.

And unfortunately, we kiiiinda see this in the series. Not that they don't love him, no, I don't think he could ever do anything to make them not love him.

Buuuuut....we do kinda see him thinking that they don't like him

"Im the one who cheated, punish me!"

And instead of backing him up, bailing him out, helping him figure it out, what do they all do?

"YES PUNISH HIM!"

They actively advocate for Leo to get hurt here. All three of them.

And yeah, this is totally sibling culture, I have two younger siblings and I'm totally willing to shove them under the bus from time to time, but that's when we get asked who ate the last of Dad's favorite cookies, not when we're asked who should get hurt

(And let's be so real right now, they had no idea what the consequences of this "punishment" would be, it's a little bit different when they're in severe danger versus simple sibling blaming)

And on top of that, we see this kind of thing again and again where they shove Leo in the line of danger

"It was me who made everyone keep the secret from you!"

(This was all for a PRANK. He's 14-15 here, a KID. Theres no reason Splinter needed to make this prank THIS severe, but a post about Leo and Splinter's relationship and how that could push him over the edge is coming later)

And then there's this...

"Leo! Sacrifice yourself to buy us time!"

Now we see a trend. This is the third time that Leo has offered himself up/someone else has offered him up

And still, not a single person speaks up in his defense

I wouldn't blame him if, at this point, he's starting to think that maybe, just maybe.....

Do they really like him?

and it's not that much of a stretch to eventually turn this to

Do they really love me?

(Stay tuned for the entire breakdown on why he might believe that Splinter specifically might not like him!!!)

Previous // Next

[kairiscorner]

to celebrate this blog's monthsary, i have a lil gift for y'all :D hoping y'all love it, and hoping i'll see you guys more on my blog! cheers (✿◕‿◕✿)

celebrating your monthsary with them

miles morales 1610

oh, to say he'd been anxious for this day was an understatement; he was both happy, excited, nervous, kinda sick in his stomach as he realizes it's been around 30 whole days since you agreed to be with him. 30 whole days. usually, from what he's heard and seen, not a lot of high school romances go on after 14 days, 21 if they really wanted to push it--and to see that you still loved him the same way he loved you, even as he constantly falls for you more and more everyday... man, oh man, do you put butterflies in his stomach.

he went all out this time and stayed up the whole night painting something for you. i like to think miles hasn't traditionally painted on canvas and with paintbrushes for a hot minute, so he kinda was stumped when he realized that he would have to refresh himself on how to do it; but it was for you, so of course, he'd make it perfect and made it scream: 'i'm in love with you, please, never forget that my love for you is here. it'll only get better from here on out as long as i'm with you'.

when he handed the painting to you, he looked disheveled and tired, but he smiled widely as he handed it to you. he used graffiti on some parts because he knows how passionate you are about it just as he is--that's another reason he wanted to be with you in the first place, you understood him and love him and his passions as well. he painted all your favorite things on it, scenes of his favorite memories with you, as if the photos themselves were placed on the painting... he thought of you the whole time he made this.

"happy monthsary, love. sorry, i know i sound so corny right now... but i just really, really love you and... and i wanna keep loving you, every day, week, month, year--every lifetime after this."

miles morales 42

like his counterpart, he would have been a little skeptical at how long you've been with him--how come you haven't gotten tired of being with the same boy every day? how do you still find room in your heart to think of him as someone special? how come you still light up his world every single time he looks at you, sees you smile, and feels you hold on to him? ...you've got him questioning how long he can keep being in this paradise with you and being so damn smitten with you in every way possible.

he hasn't felt such a warm and meaningful connection with someone he truly adores for the longest time–and he wants to let you know you are the most important person in his life apart from his mom and uncle aaron.

i think he'd take you out on a date, and that'd be a total shocker to you since usually, miles hates going out when it's not discussed between you two in advanced; but this time is different, this time marks the beginning of a new month for you two, a new beginning in your relationship as you continue to be with him despite how difficult he can get.

he shows up at your doorstep with lilacs wrapped in a pretty bouquet, and looking at you with such soft eyes and an adoring smile on his face, he mutters a thank you for being with him for this long; for remaining humble and kind towards him even if he can be a handful all the time.

"happy monthsary, mi cielo. i might sound like a total dork right now, but... i love you. and i keep finding myself falling for you over and over and over again whenever i see you, hear you, and feel you close to me. i promise, i will never make you feel lonely or sad, so long as you'll let me. because... i really love you."

gwen stacy

you have given gwen so much relief over the time that you were there for her before you two got together, and albeit she was extremely nervous and anxious about being your girlfriend and opening her heart up again to someone near and dear to her heart, she truly cherishes you and is beyond grateful that you never changed her or forced her to bury that fear just to feel like everything's okay.

she will admit that she often feels scared and that breaking up would be good for the both of you, but she also feels like she wouldn't be the same without you. you've changed her life for the better in so many ways, she doesn't really wanna leave you, instead, she wants to protect you and make sure you're safe–but actually, you end up doing that for her, too.

she's eternally grateful for you since, in your own ordinary, little ways–without even knowing it sometimes–you save gwen time and time again from her own insecurities and self-doubt; and as you stay with her for a whole month, never once neglecting her or her needs, she feels more reassured that you do love her, that she is doing okay, and that you wouldn't just leave her out of the blue.

she'd show her appreciation by sitting with you under the stars in a spot in the park or by a more secluded area only you two know about and just... admire you as you're admiring the stars, and eventually her when you feel her gaze on you.

"i don't know what i did to deserve you coming into my life, i know i messed up a lot in the past, but... maybe the universe is kinder to me this time. maybe i can love without having to think anything bad'll happen, and... i always want that person to receive all my love to be you, and only you."

pavitr prabhakar

he'd actually keep count of all the days you two have been together; like, every day you are with him is never erased from his mind. i think pav would have amazing memory, and actually, there's never a day that went by for the past month that didn't have you two in it. be it the good and the bad, the calm and the chaotic, you two are always together, and he can recall each and every thing, great and small, that made him feel happy with you.

though he says being spider man is easy for him, loving you is much easier. it comes to him like how breathing comes to him, it feels natural, not forced, and like it was always meant to happen for him to feel like he's really living, that he's alive.

your love gives him more of a reason to keep trying as spider man as pavitr, even though you had only been with him for a month, he can picture living every day for the rest of his life with you. i think what he'd do to express that would be through him whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he holds you close as you two are bonding at his place or yours--just in each others' company.

"i can't believe i'm literally the coolest guy in all of mumbattan, but i'm dating the one person who makes me feel like all of this is worthwhile; that it all means something to be... me, and it's to be with you. thank you, love, for being my purpose. you'll always be my purpose every day."

hobie brown

now hobie doesn't like labels, but... he is quite a sentimental guy, believe it or not. when he realized today was the exact day you two agreed to be reciprocate each others' feelings, he felt a little tingly about it, a little warm, a little fuzzy, a little... well, a whole lot actually, a whole lot brighter about what's to come in the future.

hobie wants you to know, even though he tries to express it so many times over the 30-ish days you two have been together, that he loves you not only for how you look, how you smile, how you fight, how you speak, how you laugh, how you do everything... but also how you've grown on him, how you've practically become his everything.

he's a very chill and low-key guy, but he really wants you to know that even without a label, you're not just "somebody" to him. so, he's been collecting small mementos of scraps from battles, sanded them down, and polished them to look prettier and... made you a promise bracelet.

"now, i know i said i don't believe in consistency, but you're the sole exception, love. this bracelet i made for you, it... it means more than what words will allow. it'll hold all the promises i've ever made you and will continue to make, and every time i'll see it on you, you'd best believe i'll make them all come true. such as this one i'm about to make right now: to love you forever and ever, in an inconsistently consistent way, just the way you love it."

miguel o'hara

he didn't realize it had been a whole month since he admitted to you that you've been the only one he's loved for the longest time. it actually scares him a little, how no universe has collapsed ever since you agreed to date him, almost as if... this was supposed to happen; he was allowed to love you.

the thought of you loving him also scares him a bit, knowing that he can be scary and intimidating a lot of the time, he hopes you never felt the urge to hide from him or leave him be; he hates to admit this, but he can't be himself when you're not around. you have provided him with so much relief from all the pain and sorrow he's experienced for the longest time, and to lose you would... it would be like losing everything he's worked so hard to keep.

your love is worthwhile to him, a warm, nurturing, humble kind of love that he is scared to lose. you try to reassure him all the time that he deserves it, and he still struggles to believe you, but seeing as how you've kept loving him for a whole month and never left him once... he wants to thank you for it.

he doesn't exactly have a fancy gesture for it, other than create a whole ass ring for you that acts like his watch. he wants you to know that with this ring, he is just one call away. he wishes he gave this to you the moment you said yes to him, but better late than never, no? he can feel himself crumbling as he fumbles over his words, just kinda hoping that... you'll kiss him to shut him up and spare him from the embarrassment.

"um... sorry that i... i never really gave this to you before, b-but i'm here to give it now. it's a ring i made, it works like the watch, but it's way more compact, and, uh... you can call me on it anytime if you need me. i'm just one call away, if you need anything... i'll be here waiting for you. waiting for you to, to... to call me because... i want you to need me to help you, because... because i truly love you and would dedicate my everything to you."

spider noir

he'd wake up at the crack of dawn to prepare you a whole day of pampering and affection, because he's also kept the details of this day down to the last letter in the front of his mind, every day.

peter is very intricate about how he wants everything you experience today to have at least some semblance of how he feels about you. he never thought you'd stay with him for this long, he's dreamed of loving you for a lifetime, and now... maybe it'll come true, he can show you all the love he's held back for so long in fear you'd leave him not long after he confessed to you.

he'd buy you flowers of all kinds, he'd open doors for you, pull back your chair when you're going to sit, and... just do all sorts of little gestures of love for you to make sure you're not only happy, comfortable, and safe--but that you feel that what he does for you is a choice for him; a choice for him that he will always choose because he wants you.

he'd try his hardest with aunt may to cook you up a wonderful candlelit dinner, and when aunt may leaves you two alone to talk and reminisce such happy memories and a successful relationship so far... he realizes just how much of a little boy he feels when he looks into your eyes; a full-on blush coming on form the tips of his ears down to where his collarbone starts and a goofy grin plastered on his face as he tries to tell you all that he's longed to tell you.

"...thank you, my dearest, for... for bearing with me. it's no easy task to love a man when his name is peter benjamin parker, trust me, i'm very aware of how hard it is. i hope you... i hope you know just how much i adore you, every single day, you are all that fills my mind. i want to give you the happiest life, the best kind of life i can offer you as your lover. so please... if you'll have me for many more months, years, even... i'll show you just how much love a man like me can carry for the most perfect person in the world, who's sitting across me right now and watching me blush as red as a tomato and grin like the happiest guy in the world, which i am right now."

a/n: THANKS AGAIN GUYS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT !! 627 FOLLOWERS ALREADY??? I'M LOVING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU ALL MORE AND MORE BY THE SECOND <333 THANK YOU GUYSSSSS !!

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