#or maybe i did and some of these people are bad at this

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Baby Bang

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader is pregnant (just that, nothing deep)

Genre: established relationship, flufffff

Summary: You've been distant lately, and Chan can't understand why. Because this is very unusual for the two of you as you two are on each other all the time. And Chan panics as you guys are getting married in a few months, and this sudden change is unraveling him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Chan paced the living room, a deep frown etched into his forehead. You hadn’t touched him in days. Weeks, actually. That alone was already a catastrophe, considering the fact that you two were basically like bunnies.

But now? Nothing. You were dodging his touches like he was contagious. He reached for your hand? Oh, look, you suddenly needed both hands to text someone. He tried for a kiss? Whoops, you conveniently yawned. Bedtime? You were already asleep. 

And that diamond ring glittering on your ring finger? It made him wonder if you were regretting saying yes to him already.

He’d spent way too many nights staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe was punishing him for something he didn't even know he did.

Chan sighed and opened the group chat. This was bad. He needed to vent.

Chan: She’s avoiding me.

A rapid barrage of notifications followed, and Chan barely had time to process one before another arrived. 

Minho: Y/N? The one who’s practically glued to your lap 24/7?

Hyunjin: LMAO. Not possible. I won't believe it.

Seungmin: You obviously did something.

Chan: NO, I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!

Chan: She’s been acting weird for WEEKS. 2 weeks to be exact. No kisses. No hugs. No… anything.

Jisung: No sex? BRO. Are you okay?

Felix: What if she’s planning something? Like a surprise? Maybe a wedding thing?

---

Chan paused. That was… not unreasonable. But no. You’d never kept secrets from him before. Like you've given him enough surprises before so he knew this was different.

---

Minho: OR. She’s finally come to her senses about you seducing her into saying yes? 

Chan: Minho. I will come to your house and end you.

Jeongin: But seriously, hyung. Did you say something? Do something? Forget an important date? You’re kind of a workaholic.

---

That hit a little too close to home. Chan frowned, scrolling back through his mental timeline of your relationship.

---

Chan: I didn’t forget anything. I swear. We were fine until a couple weeks ago, and now she’s avoiding me like the plague.

Changbin: Well. There’s only one logical explanation.

Changbin: She’s been abducted by aliens and replaced with a clone.

Jisung: YES. I second this. The real Y/N would NEVER do this. 

Felix: Omg guys! 

Chan: GUYS.

Hyunjin: Okay. What if she’s mad because you’re not initiating? She’s waiting for you to grovel.

Seungmin: That makes no sense. If she’s mad, why not just say so?

Hyunjin: IDK, some people like drama.

Jeongin: That’s your toxic trait, Hyung.

Hyunjin: IS NOT!

---

Chan groaned, dropping his phone onto the couch. He missed you. Like, really missed you. Sure, he wanted to rip your clothes off 90% of the time, but he also missed the simple things - your cuddles, your soft laugh, the way you’d always need him by your side when you're stressed. 

The cold shoulders and polite smiles were killing him.

---

Minho: Just confront her, idiot. Corner her in the kitchen and ask her what’s wrong.

Chan: You think I haven’t tried that?! Every time I ask, she changes the subject.

Jisung: Okay, hear me out. Seduction.

Chan: What?

Jisung: Set the mood. Candles. Sexy music. Flex those ridiculous arms. She won’t stand a chance.

Felix: Worth a try. 

---

That night, Chan put the "seduction plan" into action. He dimmed the lights, skipped the candles, and put on a romantic playlist. He even went full drama, lounging on the couch with his shirt conveniently unbuttoned.

When you walked in, your eyebrows shot up as you asked, “What's up?”

Chan said nothing, just held held his hand out.  You froze, guilt flashing across your face, and Chan knew he had you. You placed your hand on his and let him pull you close.

“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me, and it’s driving me crazy. Did I do something wrong?” His voice cracked, and that set you off.

Your eyes filled with tears, and in an instant you were in his lap, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Channie! I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then why -”

“Shhh,” Chan fell silent as you pressed a finger to his lips. “Just know that I love you, Channie.”

Chan was suspicious. Because, well, you’d shut him up in the best way possible, last night - all he remembered was his shirt coming off and yeah.

You’d seduced him. Thoroughly. And while his brain had short-circuited at that time, he was now absolutely certain that you’d dodged his questions on purpose.

At least he can't complain about you not touching him anymore, right?

---

Chan: It didn't work.

Minho: WHAT didn't?

Chan: She kinda caught me off guard. And avoided my questions.

Jisung: I thought we agreed on YOU seducing her and you got seduced??

Felix: Soooo… you still don’t know what’s going on?

Chan: NO. She’s hiding something, I know it.

Hyunjin: Maybe you’re overthinking. Or, maybe she’s secretly a spy.

Changbin: She’s NOT a spy, Hyunjin. That’s ridiculous.

Hyunjin: And alien clones aren’t?

Minho: Why are we even helping you? You let her seduce you and then just… forgot your goal.

---

Chan groaned, flopping onto his back. It wasn’t his fault! He was weak when it came to you. All it took was a look, or a whisper of his name and his brain turned to mush.

Still, Minho had a point.

---

Chan: Okay, fine. What do I do now?

Felix: She’s probably just stressed? Weddings are a big deal. She might just need time to sort her thoughts.

That gave Chan pause. Weddings were stressful. Maybe that was it?

Hyunjin: My bet’s still on spy.

---

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in your hand for the hundredth time now. You’d known for two weeks, but the reality hadn’t gotten any less terrifying.

You were pregnant. Pregnant. With Chan’s baby.

The thought sent your heart racing. You loved him more than anything, but… you’d never talked about kids. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he panics when you bring it up? 

There were only a few months until the wedding. You didn’t want to dump this on him now and risk throwing him into a spiral.

---

That night, Chan decided to take Minho’s advice (for once). No more distractions. He was getting answers tonight.

When you walked into the living room and his eyes locked onto yours - you froze. He looked so handsome, and a little…worn out? You felt so guilty for doing this. 

“Come sit,” he said, patting the couch beside him.

You hesitated, but complied, heart pounding.

“Baby, we need to talk,” Chan said, his voice soft but firm.

You swallowed hard as you murmured, “About what?”

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And you obviously don't trust me enough to talk it out. I’m worried. What's going on? Is it the wedding?” He was giving you that puppy eyed look, and your heart shattered.

“No, Channie, it's not like that...”

“Then what is it? Please, just tell me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to spill everything - but then you panicked. The words caught in your throat, and instead, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Here he was - caught off guard (again) but quickly melting into the kiss. You climbed into his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, and within seconds, all thoughts of questioning were gone.

---

Chan: SHE DID IT AGAIN.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Seungmin: At this rate, she could rob a bank and get away with it.

Felix: Honestly, I’m impressed.

---

Chan sighed, glaring at the group chat before throwing his phone across the bed. Whatever you were hiding, it was big. And he was determined to find out, one way or another.

Little did he know, in the bathroom, you were rehearsing how to tell him the truth: that in just a few months, he wasn’t just going to be your husband.

He was going to be a dad.

Chan was officially losing it. His imagination had gone to some very dark places (thanks to Changbin’s clone theory and Hyunjin’s spy nonsense), but now he just felt defeated. What was so big and terrifying, that you felt like you couldn’t share it with him?

Chan: I give up. She’s unbreakable.

Jisung: Hey don't lose hope.

Minho: Pathetic.

Jeongin: Just sit her down and don’t let her leave until she talks.

Chan: I’VE TRIED THAT.

Chan was ready to lock himself and you in a room till you cracked, but unfortunately he was already cracking under the stress. And then a lightbulb went off in his head. There was just one person in the world who might be able to get through to you.

Felix.

---

Felix was, to put it lightly, concerned when Chan cornered him in his kitchen.

“Lix, you have to help me,” Chan said, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Help you how?” Felix asked cautiously.

“Can you please try to talk to her?” Chan literally begs. “She loves you, Lix. Maybe she’ll tell you if you ask?”

Felix hesitated, torn between loyalty to Chan, who was literally his brother and his friendship with you. But ultimately, his desire to help won anyway.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”

---

Later that afternoon, you opened the door to find Felix standing on your porch, holding a box of cookies and his sunniest smile. 

“Lixie?” you asked, surprised. “So good to see you!”

“Just wanted to check on you, love,” he said, coming forward to hug you.

You stepped aside to let him in, and the two of you settled on the couch.

“I baked these for you,” he said, watching your reaction closely as you opened the box and munched on a cookie immediately. “You’ve been looking a little stressed lately.”

You stopped mid-chew, guilt gnawing at you.

“I’m fine, Lix. Just… wedding stuff, you know?” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“Is it really just the wedding?” Felix tilted his head, unconvinced.

You froze, your hands tightening around the box.

“You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I won’t judge.” Felix said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand over yours.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and as you put the box aside gently. Felix scooted closer as he saw the tears fall, and before you knew it, the truth came spilling out.

“I’m pregnant, Felix,” you whispered. “And I don’t know how to tell Chan. We’ve never talked about kids, and I don’t even know if he wants them. And now the wedding’s so close, and I’m scared I’ll ruin everything. I already got my wedding dress and I don't think I'll fit into it anymore because by that time-”

Felix’s eyes went wide, and for a moment, he looked like he might burst into tears himself. But then he let out a strangled laugh.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, sniffled and managed a soft, “Yeah.”

Felix threw his arms around you, nearly knocking you over. 

“Oh my God, Y/N! I’m so happy for you! And for Chan! You’re gonna have the cutest baby in the world!” he gushed, his eyes sparkling with happy tears. 

You couldn’t help but laugh through your own tears. 

“You don't think this is a disaster?” you asked softly, wiping your tears away. 

“Disaster?” Felix pulled back, shaking his head. “Of course not. This is amazing! But you have to tell Chan. He’s going insane trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“I know,” you said softly. “I just… I’m scared.”

Felix gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Chan loves you more than anything. Trust me, he’s gonna be over the moon. And I'll always be here for you. Seriously, sweetheart, this is the best news ever.”

---

Hyunjin: Well? Did she tell you?

Jisung: SPILL, FELIX.

Chan: Felix? Please. I’m dying here.

Felix hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He couldn’t betray your trust, but he also couldn’t leave Chan hanging.

Felix: She’s okay. She’s just… working through something.

Minho: And you’re being suspiciously vague.

Seungmin: Should've known that sending her best friend to investigate wasn't your strongest idea… obviously he's gonna take her side! 

Felix: I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But it’s nothing bad, I swear.

Chan: Seriously?? Nothing bad? Then why is she avoiding me?

Felix: Just… be patient with her, okay? She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I promise it's all ok. Trust me. 

Chan frowned at the message, his heart twisting.

You had spent the whole night rehearsing what to say to Chan, your stomach churning with nerves. Morning came far too quickly, and as you watched him shuffle into the kitchen with his hair messy and his sleepy face, you nearly chickened out.

But Felix’s words echoed in your head. He’s gonna be over the moon.

“Channie,” you said softly, placing your mug of tea aside and taking a step towards him. 

He looked up from the coffee maker, his sleepy eyes brightening instantly. You were trying to talk to him, and somehow that was enough. Anything was better than you avoiding him. 

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled nervously, gesturing to the table. “Can we talk?”

His brow furrowed, worry flashing across his face as he nodded and sat down opposite you.

“Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you said, “You know how I’ve been… weird lately?”

Chan nodded, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Well,” you continued, “there’s a reason for that. And I’ve been scared to tell you because it’s big. Like, really big.”

“Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise, I’ll handle it.” Chan said, reaching across the table and taking your hand in his.

Your eyes filled with tears as you finally said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Chan froze. Completely. His mouth hung open, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as his brain processed your words.

“You’re… pregnant?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears spilling over.

“Yeah. I found out a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with it, or if it was too much with the wedding coming up -”

Chan cut you off by pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. His body shook as he let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and you realized he was crying.

“Channie, are you okay?” you asked nervously, your own voice shaking as you stroked his hair.

“Okay?” he choked out, pulling back to look at you with tear-streaked cheeks and the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “Baby, I’m better than okay. I’m… I’m gonna be a dad?”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the pure joy on his face.

Chan laughed, his tears flowing freely now.

“Holy crap. I don’t know what to say?! We’re having a baby. A baby!”

Before you could say anything else, Chan was  peppering your face with kisses, squeezing you in the tightest hug ever.

“I love you so much. Baby, you’re…I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this on your own.” he said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, clinging to him as he pulled you onto his lap. “And…I've never been more scared about anything my entire life? I mean, I adore you, and I know I want this with you, our baby already means the world to me…but not knowing if you would want that too? It's been killing me, we've never even joked about this before, Channie… “

“You could’ve told me sooner, baby,” he said softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I thought we were clear about this, with you, I'm ready for anything! But I get it. And I love you even more for worrying about me. But baby, we’re in this together. Always.”

---

Chan: GUYS. I HAVE NEWS. HUGE NEWS 🤩

Jisung: Finally!! 

Hyunjin: I told you she's a spy!! No one ever listens to me!! 

Minho: He’s too happy for that, you idiot.

Chan: WE’RE HAVING A BABY.

Jeongin: Excuse me, WHAT?

Changbin: STOP. Really?! 

Seungmin: Wow, plot twist

Felix: Oh thank godddddd😭😭😭😭

Felix: I was dying here

Chan: SHE TOLD ME THIS MORNING. I’M GONNA BE A DAD. WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS. OMG.

---

It felt like everytime he said it, it felt a little more real.

---

Jisung: Congratulations, bro. Wow. 

Hyunjin: I AM CRYING. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE REPRODUCING.

Chan: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Chan: MY BABYGIRL AND I ARE HAVING A BABY😭💖

Minho: Jokes aside, this is such great news!! Congrats. Now go take care of your pregnant fiancée instead of spamming us.

Chan: I think I'm gonna faint

Changbin: Congrats, bro. But also… HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE SHE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING?

Chan: I NOTICED! I just didn't think she was, you know

Jisung: Avoiding you because she was growing your spawn, apparently.

Hyunjin: “Spawn” makes it sound like a little gremlin. Oh my Gawd 🤣

Felix: STOP. My baby’s gonna be so adorable I’ll CRY 😭

Minho: Okay, Felix, you’re suspiciously calm about this. Did you already know?

Felix: 👀

Hyunjin: YOU KNEW.

Chris: WHAT?? FELIX, YOU KNEW BEFORE ME?!

Felix: SHE TOLD ME FIRST, OKAY? SHE WAS NERVOUS, AND I PROMISED I WOULDN’T SAY ANYTHING.

Jisung: Wow. Betrayal.

Chan: SO YOU JUST LET ME SUFFER FOR WEEKS??

Felix: Yes. And? I'd do it again for her.

Changbin: LMAO savage.

Jeongin: Shame on you for trusting him when everyone knows he works for her

Chan: Thanks for being on her side, Lix

Felix: Anytime 💖

Hyunjin: Omg, imagine Baby Bang. Tiny curls, tiny dimples 😍

Chan: STOP I’M ALREADY CRYING AGAIN 😭

Jeongin: I've never been this excited for a baby really. You'd let us babysit won't you? 

Changbin: Oh yeah. Group uncle duty.

Hyunjin: We're gonna be dancing before we can even walk Baby Bang 🤝

Felix: For sure!

Chan: THANK YOU GUYS FOR BEING EXCITED FOR US!

Jisung: Save your tears for the wedding, Daddy Bang.

Jeongin: When do we throw a baby shower? Felix?

Felix: Already planning it.

Hyunjin: This baby’s gonna be so loved.

Chan: THANK YOU, GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL 😭

---

Chan added Y/N to the group chat.

Chan: SURPRISE, BABY! WELCOME TO THE CHAOS.

Jisung: AHHH THE QUEEN IS HERE!

Hyunjin: ALL HAIL THE BABY-MAKER 👑

Minho: Congrats on creating life and also tolerating Chan for this long.

Felix: YAYYYYYY YOU’RE HERE! 😭 We’ve been dying to have you here!!!

Jeongin: Thank you for gifting us Baby Bang. We promise to only slightly corrupt them.

Changbin: We’re all crying. I’m crying. Hyung is crying. Everyone’s crying.

Y/N:😂

Y/N: Oh my God, you guys.

Minho: This is us being tame.

Hyunjin: Soooo, what does it feel like, hm? Asking for research purposes, of course

Chan: Oh yeah, totally not gonna run off and impregnate someone 🙄

Hyunjin: What's it to you Christopher? You can do it, but I can't?! 

Chan: Oh please

Minho: I told her to get a collar for this damn puppy and look who's here yapping

Y/N: Leave him alone guys!

Hyunjin: I respect you, Y/N. I respect you. So I'm gonna shut up (Mr Know, let's do this face to face huh)

Minho: Gladly.

Felix: Honestly, Y/N, we’re just honored to be part of this. 

Y/N: Thanks guys, this means a lot to us. 

Changbin: And we’re going to spoil them rotten.

Jeongin: Rotten is an understatement.

Y/N: 🤭🤭🤭

Minho: You won't even know what hit you for the next 18 years. Or 30.

Chan: GUYS. Stop scaring her. Baby, they’re joking.

Felix: We’re not.

Hyunjin: Nope.

Jisung: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I'm all in for that hehe

Chan: I love you guys

Jisung: Chan’s in his feels again.

Felix: We have a wedding and baby shower to plan! 

Hyunjin: OMG. A pregnant bride. You’re gonna be so GLOWY.

Y/N: Thank you for being this excited for us. I love you guys 😭💖

Felix: We love you too!! 🥺💖

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8

[halbarryislife]

I just graduated college and took my capstone on propaganda. Not the just the history of it but also its evolution, how it works, and what makes the best propaganda.

With the ‘unbanning’ of tiktok and the inauguration being within a day of each other a lot of propaganda has been thrown at us. I want to share what is called “the ten rules of hate” from Matt Taibbi’s book “Hate: Inc: why today’s media makes us despise one another”, which was published in 2019.

To give some context for the ten rules, Taibbi says in this chapter (chapter two) regarding the news cycle, "after generations of doing the opposite, when unity and conformity were more profitable, now the primary product the news media sells is division."

But before I state the rules I just want to remind everyone PROPAGANDA OCCURS ON BOTH SIDES. Neither side is better than one another when it comes to propaganda, it is a necessity. I say this as a democrat who believes the next four years are going to be hell. Just today I saw propaganda from both sides, ironically fitting into these ten points.

THE TEN RULES OF HATE:

There are only two sides

The two sides are in permanent conflict

Hate people, not institutions

Everything is somebody else's fault

Nothing is everyone's faults

Root, don't think

No switching teams

The other side is literally Hitler

In the fight against Hitler, everything is permitted

Feel superior

What most people get wrong about propaganda is that its intention is not change your thought process immediately, no. The purpose of propaganda is to nudge you in a certain direction. Whether that be you seeing that trump unbanned tiktok and for a split moment you think 'maybe he isn't so bad' or seeing an instagram post from Path2Progress saying 'it's a dark day in America' and you get a tinge of fear.

I am making this post because I want you to be able to look at the media you are soaking up and be able to notice that people are trying to manipulate you. Of course, there are other points to propaganda that I did not get in here as I could write several papers on this subject, which I have.

And before anyone says in the comments, "but Trump is literally Hitler", I'm just going to point out that this cycle of calling people Hitler started long before Trump's presidency in 2016. Glenn Beck, who's a conservative commentator really began the "Your neighbor is literally Hitler" movement. In Taibbi's book he writes, "Beck was awesome at this. Al Gore was Hitler. Obama was constantly Hitler." I know must Democrats would not consider these men to be Hitler, but I use this example to demonstrate its use in years past on the other party.

I am going to leave you with a quote from one of the first books written about modern propaganda. It's called "Propaganda Techniques in the World War" and was written by Harold Laswell, then published in 1927.

“But by far the most potent role of propaganda is to mobilize the animosity of the community against the enemy, to maintain friendly relations with neutrals and allies, to arouse the neutrals against the enemy, and to break up the solid wall of the enemy.”

[just-another-hippie]

OKAY LETS DO IT

1. It's super fucking complicated !!

2. @decomposing-atm <3

3. An awful lot, way too much to list here and basically all about my childhood :(

4. Ehh 50/50

5. Taken <3

6. I've been debating this for ages and I'm still not sure

7. Uhhh homemade wild berry compote on Greek yoghurt (fuckin fancy ik)

8. Yep! I was very athletic when I was younger but then illnesses and eds SLAPPED me so I stopped for a while, but I'm getting into bouldering and weightlifting now that I'm recovered :]

9. HELL NO

10. Uhh when my older stepsister was round last weekend because she likes to hurt me totally unprompted ://

11. My boyfie hehe

12. Uhhhh maybe?? I've pulled so many all-nighters I can't remember

13. I don't hate people because I believe it's bad for my mental health, I tend to set boundaries and burn bridges if people are bad to me, then wish them the best and hope that one day they will truly find happiness and become a better person

14. A lot of people :(

15. YES!! My cat hermione hehe I'll post a pic of her cause she's super duper cute

16. Ehh a bit mixed atm, I'm just making sure I keep fighting because I'm sure as shit gonna make it out alive.

17. No and as "sexy" as it seems I am also a MASSIVE germaphobe so please can we do it somewhere nicer /silly

18. VERY VERY VERY FUCKING MUCH GOD DAMN

19. Definitely, and I know exactly when in my childhood :/

20. Uhhh I think his room HAHA

21. Yikes umm

22. I don't plan to have bio kids because I'm anti-natalist, but if I was in the right headspace then I would adopt older kids which got left in the system

23. I have 5 piercings, double lobe piercings in both ears and a septum piercing! I'm getting snakebites next year and I'll think about what else after that!

24. Uhhh idk I hate school so bad >:(

25. Very very much so :(

26. Chocolate HAHA

27. N/A

28. N/A

29. N/A

30. The state of the world, my home life, my lack of organisation??

31. Yes!!

32. I think green, but I love colours so I'm not sure, I'm more about vibes

33. DEFO

34. Uhh last night it was hugging @strawberri-bomb-bomb which was hella sweet because I miss them

35. Unfortunately my mother

36. I used to an awful lot, but I absolutely don't anymore

37. I may forgive but I never forget

38. Fuck yeah it will be

39. 14 <3

40. I fear not /silly

(Apparently they skipped some)

51. Man I love food so much I literally couldn't pick LMAO

52. I used to, but I lost my faith last year, I'm trying to get back to that sense of peace I had in knowing that what will be will be

53. Talk to my boyfie and drink chamomile tea

54. Absolutely fucking not!! unless you're trapped in an abusive relationship that you've tried to leave, any other circumstance go fuck yourself

55. No!! My whole thing is about peace, love, and kindness!!

56. Uhh not too many I hope

57. Absolutely 100000000%

58. SUNSHINE!!!!!

59. Hell yes, I wish we had it more where I live i love it sm :((

60. Yes!!

61. YES!!

62. So much that it deserves its own list

63. I already have socially but I will legally on my birthday!! If we mean change my name from my name now then I'm not inclined to, but I wish I chose a cooler name /j

64. The only challenge is distance /j

65. Then I'd tell them no thank you let's stay friends!!

66. Uhh I pick my friends very wisely so I'm comfortable around all of them I think, but some more than others

67. I have no idea I've slept for ages and it was like a coma /silly

68. Uhhhh I don't know maybe my boyfie??

69. ABSOLUTELY

70. The people closest to my heart

I did itttt!!

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[putiflowy]

◌. ˚✧˖° ͎ Salesman x Fem!Reader ͎°˖✧˚.◌ ̥

Summary: You have recently moved to Seoul where your current boyfriend (Seong Gi-Hun) lives. Lately he has been very focused on his work of uncovering a criminal network that he and many other people were victims of. Although he lives in a turbulent motel, he has a rather cozy room. To put a spicy twist on the relationship, you decide to surprise Gi-Hun with something you bought at a sex shop. You wait anxiously for him to arrive, but to your surprise, a different man appears to enjoy you.

Warnings: Cheating, the reader is tricked to sleep with the Salesman, blindfold, dog collar kink, handcuffs, choking, squirt, bj, slut shaming (just a bit), gun kink, v penetration, unprotected sex, fluff (highly questionable), creampie, +18.

Word count: 2k (5 minutes).

...

Sex with Gi-Hun could not be described as bad. After all, he is a man who goes out of his way to make you feel pleasure. Still, sex with him is a bit vanilla, so you decided to give it a little twist. Your intention was to explore with him and gradually work your way up to perhaps more extreme forms of BDSM.

“Maybe this is a bit too much for him?” You thought as you put on a black string thong. On the bed behind you, you had some metal handcuffs, in case he felt like trying them out. Most importantly and what you thought would get the most play: a blindfold. Maybe not feeling judged by your gaze would make it easier for him to fuck you. While you were putting on the leather collar, you smiled to yourself in the mirror and gave yourself a light slap. You were feeling hotter than ever.

"He's going to love it". You thought confidently, putting on knee-high stockings. There was still time before he got off work, but you decided to wait patiently for him on the bed, like the obedient bitch you were with the blindfold on. You sat on the bed with your legs spread widely with the collar leash dangling between them. You couldn't contain your laughter thinking of all that could happen. In no time, you heard a noise at the door. Your patience was rewarded. The noise at the door made you raise an eyebrow, as Gi-Hun was taking longer than usual to open it.

"Is he drunk?" You thought to yourself and brushed it off. There were other priorities at that moment. In no time, you heard Gi-Hun's footsteps approaching towards you. With each step you leaned your body forward, as if to give him a kiss. However, there was no kiss. You only felt the pull of your leash and also you heard an evil chuckle. Although you found the laugh a bit unusual for your boyfriend, who knows, maybe he was into it? You certainly liked it.

"I was worried you were not going to like it". You smiled trying to reach his body. Gi-Hun was very well dressed which was atypical for him. You grabbed his tie to pull him closer to you. Your lips were not so far away from his and you could feel his breath.

"Did you get dressed up for me?" You asked him without receiving an answer. You brought your hands close to his cheeks and you could feel that he was smiling from side to side. If you saw him behind the mask he would probably scare you.

"Is that cologne?" You inhaled its woody notes. It was a very fresh smell, very pleasant. The man just laughed. Next, you heard the sound of a metallic 'click' and felt a cold sensation on your wrists. The man pushed you and pinned your arms above your head. This sent a rush of adrenaline through you like a jolt, followed by the sensation of something hard under your boobs.

"You are already like this for me?" You asked with content knowing that his cock was already hard. You again received the same mischievous chuckle but this time accompanied by a caress on your cheekbone. "I didn't know you would be this good-" His fingers slipped from your cheekbone to your lips.

"Shhhh..." He ordered silence and then proceeded to place his hands on each side of your head. You also heard him lift his knee and slot it in between your legs. The next thing you felt was his breathing somewhat quickened near your neck. Suddenly, his hand choked your neck to which your thighs tightened around his leg. Just enough to show his strength but not enough to kill you. He laughed again knowing you liked the feeling. You wanted to express how much you liked this, but he recently told you not to speak, which also turned you on. Maybe you couldn't do it through words, but you could do it nonverbally. The man was surprised to see you rubbing your parts up and down against his clothed knee. You could tell he liked that. His clothed erection was pulsating and you could feel it in your exposed chest. To your surprise, the gentleman responded moving his knee away from you, but the lack of touch was replaced with his fingers exploring your inner thigh. He wasted no time and pulled your thong aside. Two fingers ran up and down your slot, exploring with hunger. He caressed it first before placing his fingers inside you. He wanted to feel your wetness for him first.

"Fuff..." You heard him take a deep breath as he took off his jacket and then loosened his tie. In no time, his fingers were inside you again. Moving in and out mercilessly. Even if he wanted you to be silent, you could not contain your moans. You tried to do so by moving your handcuffed hands to your mouth but he didn't let you. He pinned you in place instead. After all, he enjoyed the sounds of your wet pussy and your moans.

His pace got even faster, with his fingers curled hitting your g-spot constantly. You held on to the railing of the bed's header as your vaginal walls were quivering. The pleasure was getting overwhelming.

"Fuck-" You managed to say between deep breaths. With the blindfold on, all other sensations were amplified. His touch, the wet sounds, the scent of his cologne. It was too much for you to handle. In no time you were squirting for him. You didn't see it but you were sure that it had stained his shirt. He did not care at all.

You didn't know what had possessed Gi-Hun that day. He didn't even let you catch your breath. He curled the leash around his knuckles and stood up, moving you onto the floor. You were on your knees, or at least trying to, as your legs were still trembling. This man wasted no time. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection from his boxers. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, pressing his tip into your lips while pulling your hair back into a ponytail. You parted your lips softly and with a fast thrust, his dick was deep inside you. His thrusts were ruthless, not waiting for you to adapt to his pace. He almost choked you with his huge dick. Despite of everything, you had to admit that this was one of the best nights you had with Gi-Hun. He soon became even more aroused, his breaths were heavier and his thrusts sharper. You could taste the saltiness of his precum lubricating your mouth. Suddenly, he let a groan escape from his lips. He bit his finger with force, so that you would not recognize his voice. His teeth pressed so hard against his skin they made him bleed. He pulled you away for a moment to catch a breath and also to change positions. He could not contain himself anymore.

"I wasn't aware of this side of you, Gi-Hun". You complimented him as you slowly stood up and moved your handcuffed hands to your blindfold. You thought he might need a break. Before you had time to remove it, he pushed you again against the bed. He climbed on top of you and pinned you again but this time, he removed one of your handcuffs. Then he moved it around the bed rail and handcuffed you again, restricting your movement even further. You could feel the tip of his wet throbbing erection close to your entrance. You opened your legs for him and waited for him to fuck you mercilessly, as he did before.

"Impatient, aren't we?" The stranger's raspy voice gave you goose bumps. Who was this? To his surprise, you did not close your legs. You were into it actually.

"Who are you?" He lifted your blindfold and the man revealed himself. He was a very handsome guy. Younger than Gi-Hun. It now made sense how his member lasted longer erected. His face had some blood stains, probably from his bitten finger. He just watched you with curiosity and a sadistic smile. "So, now what?" You asked flirtatiously which took him aback. He expected you to be scared, but he had to admit, this was even sexier to him. Someone to play with without limitations.

"Well. Now that I know you won't run away or fight back, we could try something different..." His hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine. He removed the handcuffs from your wrists. He took off his tie and left it on a chair with his jacket. He kept his white shirt on but unbuttoned it so you could appreciate his body. "You know... It was a bit offensive that it took you so long to realize I was not Gi-hun." He whispered into your ear pulling you by the leash. His voice sounded almost dangerous. "Now, will you be a good girl and do what I say?" You nodded like a compliant dog to his master. "Good". Your obedience made him smile. "I want to see how far can I go with you."

"Woah!" You exclaimed surprised when you saw him pull out a gun. He pointed the gun to your head and you closed your eyes tightly. Is this how you were going to die? Your adrenaline was soon gone with the pull of the trigger.

"It's not loaded!" He happily showed you the gun's drum even if the demostration alone was enough. What an emotional rollercoster.

"You're a psycho". You spat, not wanting to be completly submissive to his desires. After all, the power struggle was part of the game. What you were maybe not so aware of is that he was the one in charge and he could do whatever he pleased with you.

"You finally show your teeth". His gaze was fixed on yours the whole time as he got down on his knees. His gun was now in between your thighs. You opened your legs even wider so it would be easier to fit in. You gasped covering your mouth as he penetrated you with the gun. "You like that, huh?" He asked, his eyes still fixed on yours, pushing it in and out slowly. His member was still throbbing for you, waiting to have you.

"I would prefer to get fucked by you". He moved the gun away and left it cautiously next to his belongings. It was rather odd for him to be listening to your desires.

"Really?" He massaged the tip of his dick and moved closer to you. You left some space for him on the bed so he could get more comfortable while fucking you. He lined his member with your crotch and pressed it softly. His eyes were filled with desire, but they hid some dark intentions. "You are going to wish I fucked you with my gun". He snapped, thrusting his dick in and out of you. He was ruthless and with a hand pulling your leash, there was nowhere to go. You were already his. "You like that, bitch?". With his free hand, he grabs your hip dipping his nails into your skin. He was fast. And. Rough. He was not going to stop until he came.

"Yes-" You suck in a sharp breath that leaves you shuddering and you clutch at his collar, twisting the fabric, pulling him closer to you. You took some time to admire his handsome features as he pumped his dick in and out of you. He looked even better all sweaty and without that creepy smile on his face. Behind his predatory eyes, he seemed to enjoy this connection, even if it was an unexplored area for him.

"(Y/n)..." He whispers your name, his thrusts becoming more erratic. How did he know it? Well, if he had broken into your house, it wasn't very surprising. You did not know his name, but all that mattered at the moment was the intense pleasure you were feeling. He tilted his head backwards, clossing his eyes. He was about to come. With a loud moan and his nails digging into your hip, he filled your pussy with his hot cum. "Fuck..." He stayed still for a moment before moving away from you. "I really enjoyed that". He said standing up and bending over to give you a kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back, you know that, right?" He stated, giving you some hope as he put his suit on. He left you alone with his cum dripping from your cunt.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 3 - Working With the Enemy

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of wounds, medical stuff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

They make you leave the room with the mohawk guy while they talk. 

It’s been at least 10 minutes you’d wager. They’re deciding your fate. It makes you restless, bouncing your leg up and down while you hear their muffled voices on the other side of the door. You look over at the man in the room.

You could take him, you wouldn’t have to do much just surprise him, give yourself enough time to run out the house. Maybe if you knock him hard enough you can grab his weapon. He’s not even holding a weapon at you, his arms are crossed. 

You’re quick, you don’t know if you’re quicker then him but his pistol is just sitting her in his holster. 

“See something you like?” He asks, snapping you out of your head, you look up at him.

“Why join the army when your country is not at war?”

“Why not pick a side when yours is?” You scoff, shaking your head. Like he would understand what it’s like. Just like the Americans, there always has to be a good and a bad. 

“You’re not british?” You ask. 

“Scottish.” He replies. You didn't think you were going to get a sincere reply, you smile. He looks over at you and you look away, back to the door.

“Ever think about what’s going to happen when the war ends?” He asks. You laugh, you don’t really mean it, it just seems like such a stupid question. 

“I’ll be long gone before that happens.” You say crossing your arms and leaning back in the chair. You’ve dropped the idea of escaping it seems. Maybe you can get more info from them, useful info. A Lot of people would pay good money for SAS intel.  

“Really? Where would you go?” He asks like he’s interested all of a sudden.

“America, Russia. Somewhere with a fuck load of land.” 

“Why?” 

“Farming sounds like fun. Being self-sufficient, that kind of thing.” You say. He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you. 

“What about you? Got any dreams or are you planning on dying for your country?” You ask bitterly. What makes him think he’s any better than you? Because he took an oath? Fuck him. 

“Who knows, might do. What’s better though a quick fulfilled life or a long unfulfilled one?” He says. You frown at him. What the fuck does that mean?

“What? Were you a psychologist in another life?” You ask, looking away. He chuckles, you ignore him. You both sit there in silence for what feels like ages. You can still hear mumbling, they’re still talking. They could be deciding to execute you. You’re the enemy, they don’t even need to make it look like an accident. Boom bullet in your head job done. 

You just hope it’ll be quick. Or maybe they’ll decide to torture you for intel, not that you know much. 

“What’s your name?” You turn to the man. 

“Soap.” 

“Soap? Like what you wash with?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods, you scoff, shaking your head and looking away.

Soap, Ghost, Gaz and Price. What a fucking mess you’ve got yourself in. 

…

The door swings open, it makes you jump. Soap springs to his feet, you wait. 

“He wants to talk to you.” Gaz says, he barely looks at you as he moves out the way of the door. You stand up swallowing the fear rising in you. You walk back into the room. Price is sat up on the sofa now a hand pressed on the bandages on his stomach, there’s an electronic tablet by his side. That probably has a lot of expensive intel on it. 

Ghost’s stood behind the sofa with his arms crossed. You look at him quickly then to Price as you stop in front of him. He looks round you, he still looks clammy, at least there is some colour back in his face. That’s got to be good, at least whatever you did didn't kill him. 

“You said you could pull the bullet out?” He asks. You look round the room not quite believing what you’re hearing. 

“No, I said you needed a hospital.” You cross your arms. Price smiles leaning back on the sofa, his face winces in pain even though he tries to hide it. 

“I want you to pull it out.”

“Price!” You hear Gaz say. “That's not what we discussed.” 

“I’m sorry. Even if I could just pull it out, I don’t have any equipment. No sterile field, an x-ray.” You stop throwing your hands up. “I could kill you. I don’t exactly want the blood of a SAS soldier on my hands.”  

“I could die anyway?” 

“You’re still talking, moving, breathing.” You’re getting frustrated, there’s no way you’re going to do this. If you kill him they’ll blame you it’s a death sentence. 

“Which means the bullet probably missed anything vital.” He says as a matter of fact. You look down at the wound, his hand still resting on the bandages. The bleeding is under control, he seems fine other than the hole in his stomach. 

“Maybe. I don’t know but I'm not doing what would basically be surgery on you in a shitty safehouse.” You say squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Like I said I don’t even have the tools.” 

“The vets in the next town over, will it have what you need?” You stop pinching your nose. You don’t say anything. There is no way this is happening.  

“You’re crazy.” You scoff, holding your hands up then letting them fall back down by your side. You look round at everyone. No one is saying anything, Price has a smile on his lips you just want to slap off. 

“C’mere.” He says moving and gesturing for you to step closer. You just stand there gawking at him, no one is saying anything. You look up at Ghost, his eyes are digging into you. You swallow again, taking a step over to him. This time everyone does move, ever so slightly but enough for you to notice. Price’s hand reaches out to press on his side. 

“Feel that.” He says. You look up at him unsure what to do, he nods at you. You shake your head for a second letting out a sigh and press where he instructed. 

Holy shit, it’s hard just under his skin. It’s the bullet. You could pull that out no problem, then you could stitch up the rest of his wounds.

“Still don’t think you could get it out?” He asks as you stand back up. Your eyes flick back up to Ghost. You press your lips together thinking, you could do this.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask. Now it’s negotiation time. You hear Gaz scoff. 

“We let you walk out here alive.” Gaz says, there’s anger in his voice. You turn to look at him. He’s definitely the most reserved out of all them, he held a gun to your head. He would kill you, all he needs is an excuse. You look back down at Price. 

“Your life for mine.” 

“Dramatic.” You scoff. You hear Soap chuckle behind you. 

“I want asylum, in the UK.” You say, crossing your arms. It's not America but it’s a start.  

“Fine.” Price says. You look at him shocked. 

“Just like that?” You ask frowning, it’s almost too go to be true. 

“Just like that. You need to get us into Russia though. Quietly, you said you’re a good smuggler, we’ll even pay you for it.” Price says. Now you really don’t believe him. It’s a challenge though, you can see it in his eyes. 

“I would need to go to the vets for the supplies.” You say.

“Ghost will go with you.” Price says. This is risky, they could be lying. They could kill you as soon as they’re done with you. If they want you to take them over the border you could hand them over to Konni. Makarov would probably pay you enough to retire if you handed him 4 SAS soldiers, fuck it he’d probably give you a mansion somewere in Russia. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” You ask.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Price says back, tipping his head. Touché. You smile. 

“Okay. I’ll help.” You hold your hand out, he shuffles uncomfortably but leans forward to shake your hand. 

You don’t trust them, but they don’t trust you. No way you’re going to let them betray you though. That’s your job.

next

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[stealingpotatoes]

POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

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[abbysgolf-club]

i’ve been looking for anyone who will write a sevika fluff fic because it’s so hard to find! i’m thinking sevika would be the most awkward person ever trying to comfort people so i was thinking she comes home and sees her gf crying in bed and she’s stressed about work or something like that and sevika is trying her very hardest to make her feel better but she’s just not used to doing that yet. (that sentence was hella long 😅)

i ADORE this idea -- ask and thou shall recieve 😼😼

modern au!! soft!sevika x upset!reader

i hope it's okay, it's quite short

SFW - pure fluff, slightly awkward sevika, reader is afab, reader is crying.

MDNI!!

It'd been a long day at work, you were sat on your bed crying; waiting for Sevika to get home, you didn't want to seem like a burden but you loved her company.

You heard the front door click, a faint stomp of footsteps heading to your bedroom, Sevika eventually stood at the door, leaning on the frame and looking over to you with a soft look it her eyes.

"What's the matter, baby?" She asked as she walked over, sitting next to you on the bed.

"People... work.." you muttered through tears and sniffles, holding a blanket up to your face to quieten your sobs.

"Hey now.. " Sevika began as she stroked your back trying to comfort you. She'd never been very good at comfort but she tried her best. "Come on, remove that blanket from your face try explain." she asked as she reached for the blanket you were holding, carefully removing it from your grasp.

You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself before speaking, "I was at work.. and some of my.. colleagues were talking.. about our relationship.. calling me a burden and saying i wasn't good enough for you whilst calling me a crybaby.." You spoke through sniffles and sobs, water still pouring from your eyes as if you were a waterfall.

Sevika swallowed, she'd never seen you as a burden but she was so shitty at comforting you, she panicked. "Don't listen to them. I'll fight every one who says something rude to you or makes you cry. Our relationship is none of their business." Her tone was one of annoyance and anger, hints of empathy.

You knew this was her way of telling you you weren't a burden, Sevika was always indirect and resulted to violence whenever something bad happened to you.

"I don't want you to beat them up, Sev. I just want to spend some time with you, know i'm not a burden to you. Maybe we could watch a movie?" You suggested, your tears calming down now.

"Of course we can watch a movie, love. Which one did you have in mind?" Sevika said as she cuddled up to you, arm draped over you as she let you lie on her chest.

"let's watch.. jennifer's body" you mumbled, burying your head in her chest.

[fagottkatie]

I certainly love you too and may only good things happen in life the best of things the peace the love the joy the acceptance of who we are and who really masters. He dies. You know His name. He loves us as much as infinity x 5000 and that darlings is no joke or is no room for anyone to joke about only a loser would hate love and that’s all He did. They mauled his body made him carry a cross through a crowd of shitbags who mocked him laughed at him spit on him til they nailed his hands to that wooden cross and tg’s. Big spikes through his feet and stood tge cross upright and He died in agony blood running down him til out Lord died a slow death of suffocation. He did that all for you the person who ever reads this. Only 2025 years ago short time only considering our earth is 4.5 billion years old. I love non believers any religion except the fkn IS cunts now those there are some fkn Faggott biggest cowards on the planet. They hate us darlings and gay dudes. The head choppers us they love throwing the hell off tall buildings. Other then them IS rat bastards 95 percent of Muslims are the best people to know. Very mannered and nice. Every race has the five or ten percent of racists ur queer hate. Bring this Faggott your hate, zero tolerance for hate anymore and the world is our oyster with Him the one that brings joy and Suoer natural strength. Inside you to ever ease any painful times in life and there are a ton of those pains. Especially losing loved one. And now in the world alone. Nope not alone he is right by your side. And darlings that is what makes this flag. We Are Not Alone. He is with us. We Are Not Alone When The Hate is in your face He is with us. No loving the hate nor hating them in return. Drop the pricks, there is tough in all of us. Do not allow anyone to tread on you ever even if it cost you your life don’t run or hide if evil is stalking you. I fkn don’t. I never in my life did. After 5th grade I got tough my dad made me bad ass. Picked on man by everyone and then i was a sissy runaway from a tough idiot man that was fkd up I was a like that man when I look back. But 6 th grade and thus us an adult read but 6th grade I was a crossed dressed but they didn’t pick on me for that they did it because they smelt weakness. 6 th grade I was in a new school I dunno maybe the second month in I get a note passed to me I open it this Chris dude 2 nd toughest in the class I had to fight him the nite said from him to be. I was like you mthr fkr just got to this school catholic school it was and now this shit. I bet him by him at bobs house in the alley as directed. I thought of my dad who was extreme bad ass and me his boy want going to ever let him down again coming home all beat up. Well anyway I dropped the mthr fkr and fkn cracked his nose and the beauty of blood spurting out the mthr fkrs nose it makes sounds. After I had many many fights never lost another one. I get fkn. Psycho at fight time I wrestled in high school learned such valuable moves and the striking back. Never ever did I strike first. Only a fkn weirdo wants to strike a bad actor. Yummy the crack in the face than psycho time. Just beat the mthr fkr like a drum no matter who or how big and bad. It’s ago Time At Insult or injury. For me and hope you find that bad ass in you if you didn’t already. It’s in all of us. He gave us that too. Anyway. Just a read if nothing to do.

remember: you are loved 💗

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Fight or fight." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

The Dixon brothers know there are only two options when faced with a problem: fight or fight, but maybe that lesson isn't such a bad one for Marley when she tries to defend her friend.

A/N: I'm not satisfied with this story but it's 4am in Peru and I didn't want to go to sleep without writing something. I hope you like it♥ (I'm sorry if anything Merle said was offensive, I really tried to think like him but I apologize anyway)

The smell of coffee and maple syrup fills the Dixon home.

There’s a faint scent of cigarettes too, permeating Daryl’s clothes as you pass him in the kitchen, (Something Daryl only did when he was very anxious) him grunting a good morning in response as his hands (experts at holding guns, making arrows, and killing walkers and people) clumsily attempt to make the best lion head pancake: scraps of strawberries for the fur and blueberries for the smiley face. When his mom was around and not drowning in alcohol and substances, she used to make Daryl and Merle these breakfasts, (a caress in the middle of the blows, or a show of peace to cushion the fact that there would be more pain) distant but never blurry stories from their childhood, good stories they could count on their fingers—but there’s something about Daryl’s frown, the way his concentration is about to pass the limit of fixation.

“Why are you so grumpy, huh?” You chuckle, playfully slapping his butt.

“I ain't grumpy.”

“Oh, no? Tell that to your brow. Are you like this because Marley’s leaving again?”

The thought makes Daryl’s heart clench.

“She ain't leavin' me. Ma baby’s goin' to preschool.”

You giggle, but you realize you’ve hit the nail on the head about his irritability because you never said leaving him, even though Daryl saw those 3 hours of classes, with a neighbor in the community who used to be a teacher, as she leaving her home, even though Marley was 5 years old and still had trouble tying her sneakers, which prevented her from running very far. But with breakfast ready, you and Daryl walk to the dining room table where Marley is sitting next to Uncle Merle, who, with his vast experience in street fighting and multiple arrests, shares with his niece some street smarts as he calls it.

“And listen, honey, if any of those uptight pricks try to mess with ya, ya clench yer fist and lean back to get some momentum 'fore ya hit 'em. Always go for the nose, ya hear me, lil' bunny?”

Marley smiles, oblivious to all kind of conflicts, the arguments, and the fights outside the walls because she grew up in a close-knit, loving, non-dysfunctional family—quite the opposite to the men’s previous lives in their house.

“Don’t tell her that, you ass—” You press your lips together, just to avoid the torrent of unfiltered words Merle easily earned. “It’s preschool, not a battlefield.”

Daryl shrugs, elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of him.

“I had ma first fight at 6.”

“Me at 4.” Merle replies, not wasting a second to pick up the thread of the conversation, full of pride. “Marley is a Dixon, sweetheart, so s'only a matter of time 'fore she uses those knuckles.”

With a mental slap, you ask Marley to finish her breakfast, but as the minutes tick by, your daughter’s dormant curiosity awakens with every second, asking you if you ever did that, too.

“I’ve never fought anyone.” You try to defend yourself, to create a safe space for her, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes when they scoff, almost in sync like besties.

“Didn’t yer grandfather teach ya how to punch?” Daryl chuckles, one corner of his lip lifting into a smirk.

“And don’ even get me started on that girl who tried to hit on ma baby brother.” Merle lets out a laugh at the memory, tense seconds after that girl said she could handle you when Daryl told her he was married. “Poor soul. Those sugartits of hers must be rottin’ away now.”

He even makes the sign of the cross over his face, almost convincing you that Merle believes in God, even though Merle only believes in Merle. But the table falls into an almost tactile silence when the baby of the house’s gaze saddens, blue eyes turning cold like her world.

“What do we do when someone is bullying someone, mama? Daddy?”

The promise of physical or mental pain in Marley makes Daryl hold his breath, but when silent gazes meet wondering what to do, he manages to let out the air before speaking.

“Is someone bullyin' ya, angel?”

“S'that damn Chinese kid, isn’t it?” Merle leans in toward her, like he’s trying to get information out of her like the bad cop. "Tell me the truth, honey, Uncle Merle will take care of everythin'."

“Uncle Merle, Hersh is Korean!” Marley frowns in frustration, but she shakes her head to ease all your concerns. “No. Miss Elena teaches us about bullying and that it’s bad for self-esteem.”

An hour later, when you open the door to your house, the sun is shining and fluffy clouds adorn the endless horizon, painting everything in beautiful shades of blue like Marley’s eyes, as bright as the idea that awakens her heart, the promise of living a different life outside of home, learning from books like her mom, and enjoying games with other children her age like her dad and uncle when they were kids. Hershel is 6 and walking down the street, accompanied by Matty, a 5-year-old boy with caramel-colored hair like candy, sweet like his shy personality when he sat reading on his porch with his round-framed glasses, but he's a little gentleman, always saying hello and have a nice day.

“Hey, Auntie (Y/N)!” The eyes of Maggie and Glenn’s son narrow adorably as he smiles, happily taking in your greeting and the way Daryl waves back and nudges Merle to make him swallow his racist comments. “Are you ready, Marley?”

Marley takes a few steps toward the porch stairs, but she stops, her mind screaming at her to do what she always does before saying goodbye.

“Bye, Mommy, bye, Daddy, bye, Uncle.” She waves, turning on her heels then to head down the stairs.

Daryl watches her go with a heavy heart, her brown hair like his own blowing in the spring wind and her excited walk, almost jumping with every step, her brown capybara backpack following her movements. Colors have no gender, and neither did the clothes you two dressed Marley in, always neutral because she never liked dresses or tiaras for her unruly hair like her father's.

But the moment Matty and Hershel take his daughter’s hand, Daryl and Merle’s scowls become more prominent with the surprise and the overflowing anger that is born within them in a single second.

“What the fuck?” The brothers say, in unison.

“I knew that damn Chinese boy wanted somethin' with ma bunny.” Merle’s words sour his mouth, but he makes the monumental effort not to spit out.

“Hershel is Korean, you fuc— racist.” You grimace in disgust, free to blurt out those words on an empty street.

“Whatever.” He answers, without a drop of regret, his voice deepening with the confidence in his words. “We have to do somethin' 'fore one of those bandits steals our baby, lil' brother, that Chinese boy or the nerd one.”

You exhale, because your body can’t take any more of the stupidity you hear from him.

“Matty is sweet and he’s not a nerd just because he wears glasses. I wore reading glasses too.”

“Yeah, but ya looked cute, he looks stupid.” Merle scoffs, looking back at Daryl. “What are ya sayin', baby brother? Are we makin' it look like an accident or what?”

You want to roll your eyes at all the nonsense you hear, but alarm bells go off with a panicked expression from you, eyes slightly widened in response to Daryl's silence, who, you can see, is seriously considering the idea.

“You two are damaged, really.” You squint, but annoyance makes you shake your head in disbelief. “Although their names do in fact rhyme, Marley, Matty…”

Your laughter dies when Daryl narrows his eyes at you, because the bile by that confusing feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his mouth sour as well.

“Stop it, woman, I’m warnin' ya.”

You chuckle, tilting your head slightly to look at him sarcastically.

“Or what?”

“Or there is no sex for ya tonight.”

He says it so seriously, normal words that cause a laugh in Merle, so open because time had given Daryl the confidence to joke about your intimacy in front of his brother.

“You know what? It would be better if you slept in Marley's bed or with your dear brother tonight.” With your head, you point to the accused present, although Merle frowns in displeasure. “Leave those children alone, you assholes. And now go do something useful with your lives instead of killing Marley’s friends with your eyes. I have to go back to work so please wait for her for lunch. And I beg you, don’t do anything stupid.”

With a tired sigh, because life had rewarded you with 3 children and not just one, (a titanic task of raising them because the older ones were already programmed with wrong ideas) you go to work at the infirmary. But in the company of their primitive thoughts (although not wrong ones unfortunately), their eyes meet and they come to a revelation.

“We are doin it. Hell yeah.” Merle chuckles. “But if yer dear wife finds out, she’s gonna kick yer ugly ass and mine as well.”

Daryl wants to say no, but that sixth sense of fatherhood that awakened in him when Marley was born is sending too many signals to his body to ignore.

“Whatever, I’m sleepin' in ma kid's bed anyway whether this goes wrong or not.”

“That’s the attitude, brother!" Merle smiles. "Cause I ain't lettin' ya sleep with me, over ma dead body.”

An hour and a half later, the Dixon brothers are standing to one side of Elena’s house, in the shadows of the wall where the sunlight can't reach, while a small group of children are playing in the makeshift playground in the backyard. Marley runs around the place like a free soul, laughing in a world rising from the ashes. She loved to walk barefoot in the dirt outside Alexandria’s walls, exploring and discovering with her body what Mother Nature still had to offer.

But the picture darkens when a boy Marley’s size that Daryl recognizes well, (a ghost of the typical bully Merle used to be), pushes Matty to the ground to take away the toys he was sharing with his daughter.

Beside him, Merle laughs watching the scene.

“The lil’ prick can’t even protect himself.”

Daryl's choice is to intervene now or see the altercation unfold, but his fatherly instincts kick in hard when Marley steps in front of the boy to protect Matty, earning a shove to her fragile body that the green grass receives. As if the world were painted red, as if his little girl's life were in mortal danger, Daryl runs to defend Marley, but he stops short (Merle's body crashing into his) when Marley stands up cleaning her small hands on her pants, only to push the boy as well with a force that is more than physical, the adrenaline that shoots through and makes her stronger than her short 5 years.

“Eat dirt, asshole!” Above his body, Marley pushes his face with her hands towards the ground.

It’s crazy to Daryl, crazier than thinking the dead came back to life when he grabs his daughter by the waist to remove her from the boy, away from the confusion and blurry vision, though her eyes remain fixed on her target—I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Daryl thinks proudly.

But on the way back home, it’s still absurd to Daryl that he heard his little girl say a bad word after having protected her innocence from anything offensive.

“Marley…” Daryl looks down to meet his daughter’s curious eyes, blue ones that are as deep as her feelings at her young age. “Who taught ya to say asshole, sweetheart?”

Now that the word was free in the wind, he didn’t see why he should not say it, or avoiding. But holding Uncle Merle’s hand, Marley’s innocence leads her to look at the eldest Dixon brother, only to then look at her daddy with a shrug, saying silently: I don't know.

“Ha! That's ma lil’ bunny.” Merle smiles, proud.

But when the men see you sitting on the couch on the porch of the house, Daryl looks down again.

“Good news, angel, daddy's sleepin' in yer room tonight.”

Oblivious to reality, Marley smiles.

@fluffy-dixon

[kingjasnah]

idk if this has been discussed but i do wonder if there was a way jasnah could have won over fen. jasnah calls her very emotionally intelligent and she only started responding positively to dalinar in ob once he got truthfully frustrated with her and did some yelling and idk i wonder if jasnah had set aside all her philosophical talk and made a passionate and emotional plea if fen would have been more receptive. but of course jasnah wouldn't do that

short answer: agreed. long answer: ive been wanting to talk about this for weeks. so you're getting kinda a long one.

jasnah is obviously one of my favorite characters and that's almost why i was clapping and cheering during the taravangian takedown--like all of her flaws and everything that makes her compelling was completely cracked open. if jasnah cares about anything at all, it's how she is perceived. we dont know what happened to her when she was a child and we dont know why it seems that she was institutionalized or at least in confinement for a period of her youth but we do know that every single thing she does is a measure to keep her from never going back to the kind of powerlessness she felt back then. i remember shallan commented on her perfect her hair and makeup and clothing was waaay back in book 1/2 and thought how interesting it was for a self professed heretic to still take care to make sure the darkeyed sailors on their ship to the shattered plains never saw her out of makeup. jasnah has been vulnerable in this series, sure, but only to her family. or maybe shallan. or maybe hoid? persumably. every single page she has appeared on in this entire series has reinforced that to her a huge part of the way she does her job (and im considering hiring a spy to follow her sister in law her job too, not just being queen. i mean what she considers her role to be in her family) of statecraft is in the perception that she is perfect. and yeah, that's why it was never going to work with fen

dalinar did have a hard time cracking fen because i think that in the beginning of their interactions they both made fundamental misinterpretations of each other based on where they came from. fen only thought of dalinar as a warmonger who would walk all over her country in the name of conquest, and dalinar straight up did not understand that fen's perspective was so heavily influenced by the thaylen mercantile culture. they still found common ground and yeah it was a frank conversation and an abandoment of diplomat speak that did it. jasnah's made emotional pleas before but i think the crux of her error with fen is that she DID know how important the mercantile culture was but she interpreted it as "fen is going to leave the alliance if she gets a better deal for her country so i need to prove that im her best option" instead of "fen values exchange of commerce but she really values relationships. fen's culture involves building relationships with other merchants so that they can trade with each other and understand each other" (please see the original two rysn interludes). fen didn't need a perfect argument from jasnah but she also didn't need dalinar's approach either. all she needed was for jasnah to TRUST her enough to treat her like an equal partner in their alliance instead of a marker to be moved around a war map.

cause let's be honest. fen is an extremely capable ruler. she's smart and she's been in power for a long time. i do not think for a second that she was genuinely aghast that jasnah sent spies after aesudan or well, the kharbrath murders were pretty bad but im certain that a middle aged to senior member of ruling nobility has seen worse. it's not a bad thing for jasnah to put her people first. i am convinced that fen felt betrayed because jasnah had already set the parameters of their relationship by even engaging in this debate with taravangian. fen saw her logic backfire on herself and went "oh. okay. you are putting YOUR people first because you do not see the thaylen people as having the kind of relationship to you as, for example, vstim had with the shin or with the reshi king. you see us as an argument to be won over, as numbers on a map, as a thought excersize. not onyl withh you walk all over my country in the name of conquest (like dalinar might have) but you'd do it for the sake of what, rhetoric??" in that way, at least taravodium was honest.

but yes. jasnah would never do that. jasnah put on a full face of makeup every morning in her cabin just in case a handful of sailors that she never learned the names of would see her. of course she would never let a queen that she respected see her worry for her kingdom on purpose but it's over now. the mask has cracked, she lost, and she knows that the trap she fell into only closed around her because of her own hubris/the kind of love you have for winning that you'd have to have in order to spend your pre-apocalypse time actively arguing about heresy with every scholar and ardent out there. taravangian's arguments would not have worked on fen if jasnah had never put her in the position to be won over in the first place. i cannot stress enough that jasnah was my first love in this series and watching her finally crack and expose what i have always considered to be the most interesting thing about her was easily one of my favorite moments in the book. insane shit. i can't wait to see how she builds herself back up.

[gotham-daydreams]

Suspicions

Day 3 {Challenge Masterlist}

Getting close, but not close enough. Something's wrong here. How could they have known? Who did this?

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of suicide (only briefly talked about in dialog), cults, occult like acctivites, weird behavior (?), arson (sort of).] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

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

Unlike the previous two days, this one starts off rather eventful - which is honestly more common and normal than anyone in the Wayne family liked to admit, but really, it wasn’t their fault they all just worked better in chaos. Nevertheless, for those that weren’t up already, the day is smooth sailing until they exit their rooms - or wherever they slept - and are left to find what’s happened in the batcave.

Tim is one of the last to find out, as he just gets his slow morning started - grabbing a cup of tea to help him wake up instead of coffee, rubbing his eyes to get the tiredness out of them, and starting things off officially with a plate of breakfast. Once that’s done and out of the way, he finally gives himself a good, simple stretch before heading down to the batcave. It’s only there, does he see the mess unfolding.

It’s subtle, sure, but with how long Tim has technically been a Wayne, well, he can tell when something’s going on. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Cassandra, while out of the suit, already looks to be itching to put it back on again. Tim noticed that Stephanie had slept over while he was on his way to the kitchen earlier, but didn’t think much about it - though what caught his attention was the fact that not only was Jason here, but that he was awake. Huh.

“What’s going on here?” Tim asks, voice having its usual echo as he takes a sip of his tea, approaching the little crowd by the batcomputer - taking note of Barbara’s presence as well, have any of them slept?

Cassandra seems to take note of him first, and perks up, though just as she goes to supposedly explain what they’re doing, Jason cuts her off. Instead, he straightens himself out, and asks, “Hey, have you or any of your birds seen anyone weird around, lately? Like, extra shady or just new? Like they come from out of the city?”

Tim raises a brow at the question, “This is Gotham? Every other person looks like someone shady- and what does ‘extra shady’ even mean? And besides, Gotham is a big city, newcomers come in and out everyday,” he points out, and though his response only gets an annoyed groan out of Jason, he can’t help but remain curious, “why? What’s going on this time?”

Jason seems to ignore Tim’s own question, and instead asks, “Okay, have you seen anyone with some weird symbol on them? Something simple that represents a sun, maybe on their neck, wrists, arm, or just some exposed part of their body?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Just as Jason looks like he’s going to throw something, or someone, Tim adds, “but I think a few of the birds have, and- hey, some new officers came in from Metropolis, right? What’s up with that?”

Just as Jason goes to open his mouth again, Cassandra gives him a nudge, and gestures for Tim to come over.

From there, he’s given the gist, and he has the reasonable reaction of just, being confused. While he understands what’s going on, what he doesn’t get is the supposed group itself. While they do seem to be working towards this ‘Red Dawn’, is it something they’re working towards, or merely preparing for? Is there something on that specific day that will happen, and will allow… well, whatever they’re hoping for, to happen? There are a lot of things that are undetermined, but Tim is on board with the general goal - they have to learn more about these people, what they want, and put a stop to it since it has to be something bad that people are killing themselves over it. You were right when you said that the only people they were hurting were themselves, but they were still people, and what if their influence spreads? What if they rope in more people, only for them to die-

Duke rushes into the cave, a smile of sorts on his face and he hurries around the space, gathering a few things here and there - mostly his gear, but some other things too - quickly, as if in a hurry. It was hard not to notice, seeing as he was the only real movement going on in the room and it drew the attention of those at the computer. Tim was the first to question it, asking, “What’s the rush?”

“Patrol!” It was an easy enough answer, but something felt off about it, though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it - no one really could, but those that were paying more attention did notice something.

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barbara points out, and Duke pauses, chuckling briefly before grabbing his helmet.

“Right- thanks! Anyway, gotta go-!” With that, the young vigilante rushes out of the cave after hurriedly putting on his suit and gear. A few of those in the cave stare, raising a couple of brows or just looking confused before ultimately returning to what they were doing – even if such a sight weirded them out. Cassandra, however, couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the sight as she watched Duke rush out of the cave.

He seemed… really excited to be going on patrol… hm.

Duke could hardly focus on where his feet were going as he rushed out of the house, a warm sort of feeling blooming in his chest as he made his way out of the cave, and through the front door – nearly bumping into someone on the way out. Even if he was able to just barely move out of the way, a quick, “Sorry! I’ve really got to go, Selina!” Leaves him, the words tumbling out of his mouth like how he almost trips over the single step in front of the door. Leaving behind a confused but amused catwoman all the while.

Getting to the city is easy enough, and even more so with a small tug in his chest seemingly guiding Duke somewhere. Does he know where? Not particularly, but he can’t help but have a good feeling about this.

Dropping down in an alley, Duke peaks around a corner to get a glimpse of the city before slipping out – only to bump into someone… somehow.

Shaking it off, he goes to say something – only to stop himself when he sees who it is, what a coincidence. “Oh, [Last Name], what’re you doing here?”

You glance over your shoulder, and raise your brow at the sight of the teenager, “Grabbing breakfast? Why else would I be waiting in line at this breakfast spot?” A small, amused chuckle escapes you as you offer a hand to help him up, and it’s only then that Duke notices he fell at all.

“Oh! Yeah, that… um, makes sense?” Grasping your hand, he pulls himself up and glances to the side awkwardly. This wasn’t very professional, was it? As a vigilante, he was supposed to be better than this – and more, well, vigilant! He had to get it together, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you!

Clearing his throat, Duke meets your eyes once again, “Seems like things are busy here, huh?” Just what the hell was he trying to do? Duke couldn’t understand – he had patrol to do, he couldn’t just sit here and make small talk-

“I guess you could say that, it does seem busier than it has been the last few days, but nevermind that- what’re you doing here, Thomas?” Your grip loosens on his hand, but Duke can’t find it in himself to let go. Not after what you just said, and so casually at that – like knowing his secret identity was common knowledge and not, well, secret!

Duke’s mind races, with him staring at you like your face alone will provide all the answers, and in the midst of his disbelief, a breathless, stunned, “What?” Slips past his lips, and your brows seem to furrow.

“Is something wrong, Thomas-?”

“How-” Duke can barely even speak, his eyes blown wide. He wants to pull away, but it’s like your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded – making him almost hate how real it feels, especially as his hold tightens. With him now grasping onto it like he’s both afraid to let go, and desperate to cling onto something, but what? Duke doesn’t know. Hell, he’s almost scared to know, and that confuses him even more. “How do you know who I am?” It’s a simple question, but it’s spoken so quietly and hesitantly that it’s like Duke himself is unsure if he should’ve spoken at all, or if he even said it to begin with. As if, for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he managed to speak at all, or if his eyes and the way his hand shook had asked the question for him.

It’s beyond confusing, and honestly making Duke’s head hurt the more he tries to make sense of everything. The world spins, and yet zeros in on this moment at the same time, and Duke almost feels like he’s about to fall or even collapse all over again-

Then, he sees your smile and how you turn more towards him, and it’s like he can breathe all over again.

“Well, you’re adopted- or at least being taken care of by Mr. Wayne- aren’t you? It’s pretty hard to not know you, Thomas, especially in Gotham. Which- is sort of like Mr. Wayne’s little empire, don’t you think?” You respond easily, words almost playful as you carefully rest your other hand over his – most would pull away or tell him to stop because of how much it hurts, but you don’t. Almost like you can’t feel it, or just see how much the small action means to him – to hold onto something steady, unmoving, and undeniably real in this moment of confusion, dread, and fear. Maybe it’s both, but who’s to say.

Duke struggles to respond, only managing to stutter out an, “I-” a few times before you decide to spare him once more.

“Granted, I’m surprised to see you out and about so early. A growing boy like you needs his rest, doesn’t he?” Your fingers brush against the back of his hand, and it’s only then that Duke realizes that he’s feeling it on his skin, not though his gloves or suit – and he finally looks down. When… did he put on civilian clothes?

Regardless, he can’t help but ease. The tight tension in his shoulders drops, and Duke exhales, relieved. “Right- well, I was just out grabbing a quick bite to eat. Always good to get outta the house, yeah?” He replies easily, the excuse coming easy to him – and as if on cue, his stomach rumbles… Did he eat breakfast this morning? When’s the last time he’s forgotten something like that?

Your expression softens, and you give a small shrug, “‘Suppose you’re right, can’t really argue with that.” You glance down at his stomach before looking back at the teen, and pull your hand back – an action that makes Duke’s hand twitch before he lets it fall back to his side. “How about you join me?”

Duke can’t help but be taken aback by your request, and stammers a little as he straightens up and says, “I couldn’t- I can’t-”

“Oh, c’mon. It’ll just be a little bite, and besides, I’ve already got a table. Breakfast’s on me, yeah?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“[Last Name]?” A waiter calls out, causing you to perk up.

“Ah, that must be it! Now, c’mon,” you gesture for Duke to follow you inside, “I promise I won’t keep you long. But consider this my thanks for yesterday- I definitely underestimate how big Gotham really is.”

The young vigilante hesitates, unsure if he should follow you or try to decline again. After all, he still had patrol – and with this weird group going around, he couldn’t afford to just go off and push aside his duty for breakfast, could he? In situations like this, it was best to stay on top of things and remain vigilant, wasn’t it?

Duke feels his stomach growl much more insistently this time, and he can practically feel the painful pinch of the void growing inside it… It wouldn’t be good if he did patrol on an empty stomach, would it? After all, he had to be in top shape to properly perform his duties, right? Being on an empty stomach wouldn’t do him any good, and would only hinder him further…

“You comin’, Thomas?” The teen’s feet before he could fully process your words, but he offers a nod and agreement all the same.

Bruce would understand, right?

The waiter leads you and Duke to a booth, and from there, things go smoothly. The silence isn’t as bad as one would think, and for those that didn’t know any better – they’d think you were friends or had some friendly relation since conversation flowed seamlessly and easily. It wasn’t long before your orders were made, with you encouraging Duke to order whatever he liked, and the wait was practically nonexistent. Though, that’s only to be expected when you two got along so well. It may have been weird in any other circumstance, but here, it wasn’t. It was natural, just like everything else was.

Really, only those on the outside looking in could notice anything, and someone eventually did.

Cassandra had felt that something was weird, and with how Duke’s body language had read this morning, she couldn’t help but be curious. Not to mention worried, especially since they had enough things to worry about. So, seeing her brother eating with a cop from Metropolis was… weird to say the least. It felt weirder knowing it was you for some reason, but she couldn’t explain why. You couldn’t have possibly been the reason for Duke’s excitement, could you? No, that didn’t make any sense – unless… you knew each other previously? Would Duke have left something like that out?

Just seeing something like this spawned too many questions, and Cassandra wasn’t getting any from standing across the street. Especially not when your body language reads as calm, happy, and oddly enough – full of energy, along with a trace of confidence. With Duke being almost… too happy, too calm and content for someone that was supposed to be a stranger. You were helping them on the case, of course, but they didn’t know you as civilians. They weren’t supposed to, and yet Duke didn’t have the suit on – where was it?

… She could stand there until you both left, but something told her that wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. Something told her that she had to approach, if only to confront you and get Duke out of there herself. To help him get back on track if anything, and to get some sort of explanation if she was smart about things.

So, approaching the establishment, Cassandra steps inside and wastes no time heading over to where you and Duke are sitting. Resisting the urge to just grab you by the collar and get answers out of you, she simple rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze – which is more than enough to grab your attention.

Looking up at her, a confused expression passes by before another bright smile rests and makes itself home on your face. “Ah, You must be Cain, correct? Or would you prefer Cain-Wayne?” A light laugh escapes as you add, “It’s a bit of a tongue twister, but the choice is really yours, young one.”

Surprised, Cassandra can’t help but blink before her expression hardens and he brows furrow. Taking note of her confusion, you simply say, “I haven’t been here for long, but word travels fast in Gotham! Besides, who wouldn’t know about the children Mr. Wayne has taken in? You’re all a very common topic amongst the city folk, and from your expression – I’m willing to assume you’re surprised to hear that.” There was something in your tone that made those last few words of yours almost sound sarcastic. Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her narrow her eyes all the same. What were you trying to get at-?

“Cass?” Hearing Duke’s voice makes Cassandra glance at him for a moment, and the look in his eyes rubs her the wrong way. He shouldn’t have an expression like that, not for a stranger, even if you are from Metropolis. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were still… home.” The small pause in his words doesn’t slip past her, and it certainly doesn’t make Cassandra feel any better either, but it isn’t enough to make her leave.

Even as she doesn’t say anything, her eyes say enough, and you notice how Duke tenses slightly while under her gaze. You don’t understand what they’re saying, or whatever they seem to be communicating, but you’re not bothered by it. Communication was a universal thing, after all, and you’ve seen many people find all sorts of ways to do it – with or without words. It’s something you’ve picked up on with time, but that’s a given considering things.

Nevertheless, you speak up and interrupt… whatever it is that’s going on here. “Why don’t you join us, Cain? Thomas was just finishing up, but it’s like they say; the more the merrier!”

Cassandra seems taken aback by your offer, and so does Duke, but you only focus on her for now. Despite not having said a word, it’s like you can feel her growing quieter, and just as you go to say something else, she glances at Duke before promptly taking a seat next to him – nearly pushing him towards the window just to create some space for herself.

Naturally, Duke responds with a surprised, “Hey!” At the sudden intrusion of his space, but ultimately does little to get it back, and instead moves over to grant Cassandra her desired space.

From there, you carry on as you did before, but the younger ones across from you seem awkward – you can’t decipher a reason for this, not on your own, but a few eventually come to you and you try to work around it as best you can. At the start, things are strained and it’s obvious that there is something more than what both are deciding to show. Which, while smart, is inconvenient at best.

Regardless, you do what you can to spark conversation. Duke responds well enough after a few questions that ease him back into the flow of things, but Cassandra takes a while longer. Though that only makes sense since she’s just gotten into things, and is only starting to get into that flow as well. It’s not hard to notice that she’s simply just observing for now, and most likely wants to keep it that way, but you didn’t make that offer for her to just watch.

You start with something to drink, offering coffee since that seemed to be a common choice around here, and even take a sip of your own beverage while you were at it, and ask if Duke wanted anything else. It’s always the little things that count, but of course Cassandra remains as she is, and doesn’t respond. It’s only after a good minute or so does she get something, though if it’s to ‘blend in’ easier or because she genuinely wanted something to drink, you couldn’t tell – but that didn’t matter. Eventually, she gives you small responses by nodding or shaking her head, among other small gestures that seem to give just enough information to count as some sort of reaction. Cassandra was responding and reacting more to things Duke was saying, but that didn’t bother you. She was beginning to ease up, and that’s what ultimately counts.

Then, you’re given a golden opportunity as her stomach gives a small rumble. It’s barely noticeable, and not even Duke hears it, but Cassandra does and you notice her reaction well enough to tell. Of course, you give her the same offer you gave to Duke earlier – and even if she is more hesitant and reluctant, you take a risk and push things as you get her something. Just as before, the wait is hardly long at all – even if Cassandra seemed to feel it more than you did – and when it comes, it takes her a bit to even poke at it, but she caves eventually.

From there, everything eases just as it did before. Whatever you picked, she ends up liking it, and the conversation flows much better now that Cassandra is less tense. Your smile from before remains, and the morning carries on splendidly.

However, as with all things, it eventually comes to an end as you get a notification on your mobile device, and a small huff escapes you. Things are coming along, but it’s time to call it – you’ve been here long enough. You signal for the check, and once it arrives, you simply say, “Well this has been nice, hasn’t it? I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised by both of you. This has been… eye opening, as one would say,” you muse, another light laugh escaping you, “but I’ve kept you both for long enough. I’m sure you both have places to be.” You don’t even look as the waiter takes the check back after you slip on your Rose Bank card.

Duke seems to tense slightly, and stops you from standing as he shoots up from his seat, “Wait, do you have to go right now? If there’s anywhere you need to go, I could take you-” You wave him off, and shake your head.

“There’s no need, I know my way around well enough, but thank you-” Cassandra moves to stand as well, and before she can even fully get out, Duke scrambles to get out of the booth and stand in front of you.

“You just got here a bit ago, right? I’m sure I can still help-”

“Thomas, I assure you I’m fine. I’m just heading back to the station,” you handle the check and slip your card back into your wallet when the waiter comes back around. Duke struggles to speak, and Cassandra seems concerned. Hm.

Exhaling softly, you give the teen a pat on his shoulder, “If anything happens, remember, you can always contact the GCPD if need be, alright?” Duke didn’t seem too pleased with that response, but all it takes is one more long look before he averts his gaze and nods.

“Yeah, yeah… alright.” You grin, and give him another pat.

“Perfect! See you around, kid!” With that, you leave without a second thought, feeling more confident then before – and Cassandra could tell. Of course she could, but before she could think about why you were going to the station this early in the day, her eyes drift back to Duke, and she can’t help but pause. His body language and overall attitude is completely different now… but… why? What could have made him so upset?

The young vigilante glances up when she hears the small bell of the door, indicating your leave… and she doesn’t know why, but she can’t help but feel disappointed.

— — — — — —

Making your way to the station is easy enough, and as you check the time, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Just in time.

You turn around, and are greeted by the sight of blue eyes and dark hair – honestly, if his face shape was different, you’d think he was Bruce. It’s almost weird that they aren’t biologically related, but that’s the funny thing about genetics, you suppose.

Nevertheless, you offer a smile as always, “I got your call, but I didn’t expect to be meeting you in Gotham this soon, Grayson. You really are punctual. Though noon is an odd time to meet up, don’t you think?” Richard – or as everyone apparently calls him, Dick – just gives a smile of his own that borders on a smirk, and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Couldn’t think of a better time, and besides, it isn’t that bad. It’s just in time for lunch!” You hum at his response, finding it a bit curious before giving a nod.

“Well, when you put it like that it almost sounds smart,” You chuckle out, watching as his face contorts slightly. “Regardless, I got your call. You wanted to discuss the case?”

Dick doesn’t seem to appreciate your little jab, nor how you brush past it so fast – but just huffs before giving a nod. “Yeah, some guys said you’d know some things…? Or that someone here did?” You raise a brow before a look of confusion settles on your face.

“A few of us here do, but the one that would know the most would be detective Greenwood,” yet, you pause, as if thinking for a moment before adding, “I assume the situation in Bludhaven has gotten worse?”

The sigh that escapes him is telling enough, even more so with how he rubs the back of his neck, and the nod he gives is almost guilty. “Yeah… and even saying that feels like you’re sugar coating it.” Hm, must be like Metropolis then – that’s good to know. “I guess Ludwig told you?”

“Among a few other things, but just gave a general idea,” Dick visibly deflates at your words, and so, as if extending an olive branch of sorts, you gesture to a cafe nearby. “How about we get you some coffee and a quick bite to eat, hm? Can’t imagine getting here was an easy trip.”

Dick’s practically already following you to the small shop when you make your offer, and a low, exaggerated groan escapes him. “You don’t even know the half of it, it’s like Gotham’s become some highly sought out tourist destination overnight! It’s insanity, I tell you- makes no sense! The people who live here don’t like it enough as it is, why would anyone else want to be here?”

You shrug your shoulders, and guide both of you over to the cafe, “Not a clue, but it is weird when you put it like that. But maybe it’s nothing, who knows? We’ve got enough to deal with, anyway.”

“Tell me about it… not like there's anyone around here that wants to deal with this kind of weather. It feels way too warm for fall, if you ask me.” Dick mumbles, making his way over to the counter to order, and you only partially shrug, giving another nod in half agreement. You didn’t feel a difference, but it could just be because you’re used to it.

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out your wallet to pay – seeing as you offered to begin with. Obviously, Dick notices and doesn’t move to stop you, but can’t help but raise a brow.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?”

You glance at him for a moment before huffing softly, almost as if amused by what he said, and just hand the cashier your Rose Bank card to pay.

“I had a filling brunch.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite everything that’s been going on, this is probably one of their more organized efforts to tackle the night – which is really saying something, since there’s always been attempts, but it’s hard to be orderly amidst chaos. Something that Gotham practically breeds, even if this particular strain comes from out of town.

Tim and Duke are in the manor running tests on the organic material Stephanie and Jason had managed to get from the other night, with Barbara doing similar work in the clock tower. The others are out in the city, with Bruce running some things by Gordon, Selina being god knows where, and the others tracking some shipment while taking care of minor crimes and such along the way.

It’s almost… weird how coordinated this ‘cult’ seems to be, not to mention just how many people seem to be in on this thing. There didn’t seem to be an exact number at the moment, and if they really did split up, then there may even be more members that they weren’t aware of that have taken refuge outside of Gotham-

Point is, there were definitely a lot of people in this cult. Maybe even too many to coordinate and organize, at least for them to work so in sync with one another as they were now. It’d make more sense if they were only in Gotham, but until they got Clark’s report, no one could be sure of that – even if Dick responding so readily when Bruce had called him in was telling enough on its own. There was also the possibility of there being multiple organizers and leaders for this, which seems like the obvious choice, but even so – who could get a system in place that works this smoothly? It’s almost unnatural. Uncanny, even. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense if there’s no incentive for these people to be doing all of this-

Tim couldn’t figure it out, anyway. It felt like there was still so much they didn’t know yet, and like one thing was happening right after the other. Despite not being out in the city himself, he could use his birds as his eyes to see outside while he remained in the cave – so, in a way he was also tracking the cult. What Tim found weird himself is that you didn’t think the cult had a proper name, or that they weren’t called after the event all of these groups seem to be working towards. It made the most logical sense that they would be, or at least something similar to it – but you, someone who's been working on this case longer than anyone they knew at the moment, disagreed. Why? Regardless, aside from this supposed ‘Red Dawn’, what incentive did… well, anyone have to be a part of the cult to begin with? Did the event itself grant them something? What even was the Red Dawn? What did it have to do with all this soil and sand?

There were too many questions and not enough answers, but he supposes that’s why they’re even investigating to begin with. Though, if Tim had a say in this – it feels too organized to be something that only started three or so days ago. Have they really only been in Gotham for just a couple of days? If what his birds are seeing is real, then it’s more likely that they’ve been here for months-

[“Oh, would you look at that? They split again. Geez, really makes you wonder why they’re moving this stuff around like this. Seems ssseriously inefficient if you ask me.” Jason’s voice sparks in the commlink, tone sarcastic and rough.]

[“Agreed, there hardly seems to be a purpose to such tactics.” Damian huffs, going quiet for a moment only to add, “Unless they really are trying to distract us.”]

Tim perks up at this, and uses a nearby bird to perch on top of one of the telephone lines that go across the street. Watching as the next load of… whatever this cult was hauling and bringing around, drives off down the street. Some of it in a truck, and the other half of it in various cars. Not exactly subtle, but it would be hard to keep track of it all if one person was trying to keep tabs on things. Especially if said person was human.

[“Gonna have to agree with you guys, these people… they’re doing something, alright.” Stephanie chimes in, the suspicion clear in her voice.]

“What does that mean?” Tim can’t help but ask, trying to focus on the sample he’s analyzing, but can’t help but focus more on what his birds are seeing – especially when it’s more interesting the shuffling through samples of dirt.

[Stephanie sighs, “Seems like they’re trying to spread this stuff all around. Parks, gardens, bakeries, flower shops- all kinds of places, and from the looks of things? Whatever they’re doing here, it’s getting to other civilians as well. Guards and employees are helping them, and not just to open the back door either.”]

[“Someone open the front door?” Jason asks rhetorically.]

[Stephanic stiffs a chuckle, but Cassandra responds with a curt, “Yes. And storage.”]

[Jason was quiet for a moment before a small, “... Right, ‘course they did.”]

With his birds, Tim is able to follow as many trails as he can – and upon noticing a particularly weird detail, his brows furrow. “They… looped back around.”

[“Yep, I see them. Right back at the gardens… weird.” Stephanie confirms, sounding equally confused.]

[“They’re obviously trying to play us, but why? So they can plant more of this… red shit everywhere?” Jason can’t help but question.]

Tim shakes his head, which the closest bird to Jason and Damian emulates, “No, that doesn’t make sense. They’ve got loads of this stuff all over Gotham- I don’t see why they’d need more, unless…” He grows quiet, thinking for a moment before he looks down at the sample he’s supposed to be examining. Were they thinking of this the wrong way?

[“Unless… what?” Stephanie asks.]

He tries to think of a way to explain it, fumbling for a moment before just saying, “Well, do we even know what this stuff does?”

[“That’s what we have you looking at it for, yeah? Shouldn’t you or Barbara, or hell- even Duke know?” Jason chips in again.]

[Damian sucks his teeth, “Of course you can’t even do the one job we actually give you, Drake.”]

Tim can practically feel the disdain in Damian’s voice as he says his last name, which makes his brow twitch – but he shakes it off. He tries to, at least.

“I’m trying! I just… don’t know what I’m looking at, or why, okay? This whole situation is… weird.”

[“Look, Tim, people… people died over this stuff. There’s gotta be something weird about it. Maybe weird chemicals or…?” Stephanie tries to suggest.]

The watcher huffs at the reminder, but ultimately relents as he gives it another look while still having his birds keep tabs on things. All he sees is the same thing, and as he increases the magnification on the microscope, he only finds himself growing more… confused. More weirded out than anything, and a little curious, sure, but confused all the same.

Leaning back, he takes a breath, “I don’t understand, it looks alien… but how can that even be possible?”

[“We work with aliens, is it really that strange, Drake?”]

“I know that- but this is like- different! The organisms in the dirt are being taken over by something- and it’s like it’s both trying to take over and adapt to it?”

[“Like… a parasite trying to get used to its host?”]

“Kind of? It’s hard to explain… and this substance in the dirt- no wonder some of it looks like sand…”

[“So, instead of ‘getting used to’ the host, it’s killing it.” Jason suggests.]

“Yeah, like it can’t adapt properly or… is valuing infection over adaptation. It seems to feed on organic material and create more- but there’s something weird about it too.”

[“... And that is?”]

Tim hesitates for a moment, unsure himself, before eventually just putting the idea out there. “Well, at this pace… if their plan is for it to infect all the organic material in Gotham for whatever reason, then this is a seriously inefficient way to do it. Their plan here isn’t to have this stuff in all the dirt - at least, not to change it all. It seems more like a byproduct of whatever they’re trying to do with it.”

[“Well, what’s in the dirt, Tim?” Stephanie asks.]

“That’s the thing- I have no idea. It’s like its own organism, but I haven’t seen anything like this. It’s completely alien, and I doubt it’s the friendly kind.”

[“Well- I have to agree with you there. If it was… well, who knows how this would go. But nothing about all of this particularly screams ‘friendly’.”]

[“Did the people shooting themselves give that away?” Jason sarcastically quips.]

[“The purposefully suspicious activity certainly doesn’t help.” Damian adds, sounding equally pleased.]

Tim zones out of the conversation, glancing back at the samples Jason and Stephanie were able to bring in that he hasn’t fully looked at yet. The samples themselves don’t seem to ‘decay’ necessarily, and it seems to take them a while to eat away at the dirt or sand they’ve been ‘mixed’ with – from the looks of things, anyway.

No, if anything it gives the impression of a substance trying to reach homeostasis. Since, it’s either that or it’s trying to revert back to it’s original state for… whatever reason. Whatever other material it produces in that process is simply a byproduct of its efforts. The real question is why. Why is it trying to change? Why is it working to do… whatever it’s trying to do?

Mindlessly, Tim’s blank eyes drift over to where Duke was sitting, only to pause.

The teenager was hunched over, entirely focused on the task at hand – and whereas that isn’t inherently a bad thing, Duke hardly seems to be breathing, like the smallest gust of air or wind will tamper with the sample so much. Taking too much precaution when it comes to treating it. Not like it’s dangerous, but like it’s precious, like handling something more fragile than glass.

The sight alone makes Tim feel unnerved, and as his senses heighten – its only then does he pick up on the faintest smell. What… what is that-?

[“Oh shit- we’ve got to bounce. Now-!”]

[“Agreed. How did you even manage to-?”]

[“Let’s save the questions for when we’re out of the burning warehouse.”]

Tim blinks, eyes blowing wide as he looks away from Duke and focuses back on what’s going on. Using one of his birds, he can see that a warehouse is, in fact, on fire – and it is growing fast. “Steph-”

[“Already made the call, fire department is on the way but- how in the world did you guys even manage to set the whole place on fire?”]

[“Don’t lump me in with this brainless brute-” Damian’s complaint is cut off.]

[“I didn’t even expect the stuff to catch that fast! Just- ugh,” Jason groans, the subtle sound of the warehouse coming apart is just barely audible through the comlink. “Do everyone a favor, and keep those samples away from fire. That shit lights faster than propane.”]

“Even if it spreads quickly, how did the fire get strong that fast?!”

[“Hell if I know! You said this crap is alien, right? How is anyone supposed to figure it’d have so much kick!?”]

“You knew it could set on fire?!”

[“Last I checked, dirt isn’t flammable- of COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW!”]

[“Guys! Just- focus on getting out of there! We can figure out all of this once we regroup. Meet me and Cass at the station. We need to tell Bruce about this.”]

Tim glances at Duke once again, who’s hand twitches slightly, and the watcher grows quiet before looking back at his own sample.

… Could this night get any weirder?

— — — — – – – – – – — – – –

Eventually, towards the heart of the night, Bruce is able to reach the batcave once more, and everyone recounts what they found or learned – minus certain individuals.

The discussion is as chaotic as one would imagine, but the main points get across eventually, albeit between suspicions a few of them had, and more speculation on what could be going on. The biggest question is why this group had chosen Gotham of all places, if they really have been here recently or have been in the city for longer, who Tim and Cass were able to identify as members of the cult, and so on.

Whoever was organizing this was clearly doing something to the people following them. How perfect everything seemed to flow without their presence was uncanny and unnatural, not to mention how readily members have killed themselves without a hint of hesitation. Honestly, it was terrifying – and the fact there was still so much left unknown wasn’t helping. Not knowing who was behind this, or at least in charge of the group in Gotham was setting them back – and the risk of confrontation was too high. There was no telling if they’d dispose of themself just as quickly as the other members of the cult, but that was assuming there even were other leaders in place.

They certainly had their influencers and people who brought in more members into their cult, but for some reasons… most of the vigilantes had a feeling that there wasn’t. That there was just one person in control – the lack of evidence on that end didn’t help, but they sort of just knew. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to fully dismiss anything, even if some of them were pretty set on a couple of things. Duke, Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra in particular. Bruce was… well, himself, but he seemed to have his mind set as well even if he left the door open for possibilities.

If this was really alien, who knows what they’re dealing with – and if what Clark said earlier was true, then it’s definitely mind altering, at the very least. Though, that did pose another question entirely about you and the cops that came in from Metropolis.

Were any of you under the influence of this… alien substance?

They weren’t given much time to dwell on that as something pops up on the batcomputer – a notification of sorts. “Ah, must be Clark.” Bruce mumbles, already working on displaying and finding out all the information Clark had gathered.

A map of the United States first flashes onto the many screens, before red dots begin to appear on the map. Like little fairy lights, they flicker on, and don’t stop until it looks like the country has got the bad case of chickenpox. Then, it zooms out, showing the whole world map, and more dots appear. They’re sparse in some areas compared to others, but the message is made clear enough.

Yet, before anyone could fully digest even the point Clark was trying to make, the funniest thing happens.

The dots begin to move. They weren’t just markers, they were trackers.

Some move faster than others, all of them blinking for a moment before shifting, showing their movement. There aren’t any labels, but the direction seems to be clear enough. Especially as the map zooms back into the United States, and shows the movement there a little more clearly.

On the East Coast, all of the dots closest to there seem to be moving towards two cities in particular – but before it can be shown where they are clearly moving towards, the power cuts. The batcave is swallowed by darkness, and the vigilante family is left in complete darkness for a few moments. The cave being the most dark any of them have seen it, and the silence near deafening.

It doesn’t take long for the lights to flicker back on, but they have the oddest shade of pink, and as everything powers back on – the ventilation is still paused, and something else has taken place of the map on the batcomputer – it’s taken over every screen even remotely connected to the advanced computer, actually.

A red solar eclipse with a timer right on the bottom, counting down. No explanation, nothing aside from the eclipse and countdown.

There’s no way someone in the cult could’ve got into the system, and especially not tonight when they were all on high alert and keeping an eye on them! It wasn’t possible, the security in the cave and manor would’ve been enough to stop anyone from getting in, or at least notified any of them if someone had gotten in. Hell, Damian’s sense and trigger would have alerted him if anyone had so much as stepped onto the property that wasn’t supposed to be there. There are too many precautions put into place for this to happen – and for the sight to stay on screen as well.

That didn’t leave many possibilities, and it was less about the why and more about how this could even happen. Which, amongst the options to shift through… with the threat they were dealing with here, only one seemed to stick out and seemed the most plausible.

There was a traitor among them.

[mepoe]

Most of the time I don't see the point of extreme punishment. Like; teach but don't torture. It won't help any.

I just want people to stop doing whatever they did wrong, punishing them only makes everything even more awful.

Maybe some people feel better but it won't help potential future victims; the one doing the bad thing will often feel justified by repeating it.

One of the most important things to unpack and unlearn when you’re part of a white supremacy saturated society (i.e. the global north) and especially if you were raised in an intensified form of it (evangelicism, right wing politics, explicit racism) is the urge to punish and take revenge.

It manifests in our lives all the time and it is inherently destructive. It makes relationships and interactions adversarial for no good reason. It undermines cooperation and good civic order. It worsens some types of crime. It creates trauma, especially in children.

Imagine approaching unexpected or unacceptable behavior from a perspective of "how can this be stopped, and prevented" instead of "you’re going to regret this!”

Imagine dealing with a problem or conflict from the perspective of “how can this be solved in a way that is just and restorative” instead of “the people who caused this are going to pay.”

How much would that change you? How much would that have changed for you?

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 4- Forced Proximity

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: medical stuff, use of weapons, cannon typical violence, death.

AN: 2 parts in under 24 hours? I have to focus on my main projects I can't focus with this part sitting in my drafts.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

“You’re really going to make me go into Al Qatala territory with nothing?” You ask as Ghost prepares his weapon. 

“What do you mean you’re going in with the best of us.” Soap says winking at you. You frown at him looking back over at Ghost. 

“Just give me my pistol back. What? You think I'm going to shoot him?” You scoff. There’s silence in the room, you look around. Yes, yes they do think that. You sigh, zipping your jacket up and going over to the door. 

You wait in silence as Ghost comes to stand next to you. He’s dressed in full gear and you’re in basic clothes, not even anything camouflaged. 

“Here.” Gaz comes over to you handing you a radio and an earpiece. You frown at him. 

“I don’t know how to use this.” You say. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He says walking back over to the sofa with Price who’s been watching you the whole time. You clip the radio onto your belt and put the earpiece in fiddling with what you think is the volume tuner. 

“Ready?” Ghost asks. You look up at him and nod. “How far is this place again?” 

“A few kilometres east.” You respond. He reaches over, handing you a knife hilt first. You almost want to laugh at him. 

“Can’t do much with a knife.” You say, it’s spitfull, you want your gun back. You take the knife regardless.

“You can do alot with a knife.” He says and reaches down opening the door and walking out into the night. 

“Good luck.” Price calls. You look back at him and nod. 

You tuck the knife into your belt and follow Ghost into the darkness. 

…

“How did you know about this place?” Ghost asks as you make it to the entrance of the town.

“It was taken over by Al Qatala about a year ago. Been pretty much abandoned since then.” You say, the wind has picked up and you can see thick clouds in the sky blocking out the light from the moon.

“The ULF don’t come this far north, it’s a good way point for smugglers.” You say. You’ve passed through here many times. 

“You really seem to hate the ULF.” He says as a matter of fact.

“They’re both as bad as each other. If anything Konni have been the best, at least for work.” 

“Doesn’t bother you, they're helping terrorists.” He says, there's a bitterness in his voice. 

“The ULF killed my father in a hospital.” You say, anger rises in you. “I never got to say goodbye, I never got to see his body.” 

“You said your mum worked for them.” 

“She did, she was killed by Al Qatala, she was working for Farah.” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You make it to the top of the street. 

“Right.” You say pointing down the road. You walk down in silence, there are some streetlights working rigged up by whoever is using this town for now. 

“What about you? You’re British living a comfy life. What are you doing here?” You ask. 

“We’re after someone.” 

“In Al Qatala? It’s pretty clear you’re friendly with the queen bee.” He shakes his head.

“No.” He says stopping. You hum looking over at him. His eyes are darting around. You look into the darkness of the town, you can’t see or hear anything. 

“Ever killed anyone?” He asks suddenly and keeps walking. 

“Maybe.” You say trying to sound confident. “Why should it matter, you’re a soldier, you took an oath before you killed people. At least I’m doing it to keep innocent people alive.” 

“You smuggle people for Konni, Makarov.”

“I’ve smuggled people for the ULF too, like I said, I work for whoever pays.” He scoffs. You’re surprised, he usually seems so reserved. There’s a reason for the mask. 

“Proper opportunist aren't you?” You can hear the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Fuck you.” You snap, shaking your head. You go turn the corner ignoring his remarks. Suddenly he grabs your arm and pulls you between some buildings. 

“Get the fuck off-” he slams his hand over your mouth pulling you against his chest. You start to fight him then you hear voices. You stop struggling as they get closer.

“The place is empty, why are we back here?” You hear one of them say in arabic. 

“Khaled wants to take this place over. Use it to cut off the ULF movements.” Someone else replies. Does Ghost understand arabic? You assume he doesn’t. 

“I thought I would be home with my family before the end of the month.” 

“When was the last time you saw them?” The other asks as you watch them pass past you. 

“10 months ago.” 

“You’ll see them soon, mashallah.” They walk out your view, their lights fading, leaving you back in darkness. Ghost’s hand leaves your mouth, your heart is hammering in your chest. He lets you stand up, releasing his grip round you. You want to thank him, they would have killed you if they’d seen you. How did he even hear them coming?

“Let's move.” he whispers, pushing past you out towards the street. You follow him close as you walk out into the street, sticking close to the buildings and following the shadows. 

“Up there to the left.” You say pointing at a building ahead of you both. The place is surrounded by a chain link fence. The building looks more rundown than you remember.

“Round the back there's a smashed in door, I doubt it’s been repaired.” You say behind Ghost, still trying to keep your voice low. 

“Copy.” He says. You let him lead, following him close to the building. He pulls something off his vest cutting the links in the fence. He holds it open, nodding at you to sneak through. You go through first heading over to the door. It’s open, you can see from here. You just hope the place hasn’t been raided too hard. 

The place is dark, there are no lights, no electricity. Ghost comes in behind you clicking on a torch. He hands you another one, you take it out his hands turning it on and shining it over the signs. 

“Who taught you English?” He asks. 

“My parents said if I wanted to go anywhere in life I should learn English. I was brought up speaking both.” You keep the fact you can speak Russian silent. Don’t ask, don’t tell. The more advantages you have over them the better. 

“Here.” You say shining the torch over a room that says surgery. The room looks like it’s just been closed up for the night. Cupboards are still full of sterile supplies. That's good, you should be able to find everything you need.

“I’m going to check for other supplies. Are you good here?”  You look over at him nodding and pick up a bag off the counter, you watch him leave the doorway and head into another room down the hall.

You’re not going to be able to find drugs. Price could use local anaesthesia and antibiotics, you don’t even know where to start with human medicine, never mind dog medicine. You recognise tools though, sealed sterile gloves and tweezers, scalpels and plenty of different bandages and gauze. 

You turn in the room walking round the table and over to the other side looking for wraps, something you can use to make a somewhat sterile field. You try to remember what you’ve seen from interning at the hospital for the last few years. You smile as you fill the bag, your parents were right, in the end the education was useful. 

Suddenly you hear a crash, grunting. Someone's in the building. There's an audible grunt, the sound punches, scraping of furniture. There’s no gunfire, you rush over to the hallway following the noise. You can see lights flashing in a room, you burst through the door.

It’s hand to hand contact, they’re fighting on the floor, the stranger is on top of Ghost. You’re not thinking, if Ghost dies they’ll kill you. No matter what you say they’ll kill you. Your hand feels for the knife in your belt.

The man on top of Ghost looks bigger, he's not wearing any body armor, Ghost's weapon flung to the side. You don’t have time to think you take the knife off your waist and jump at the guy on Ghost, plunging it into the man's neck. Blood spurts out covering you all. There’s no noise, you hit the carotid. 

His body goes limp after a few seconds and you stand up. Ghost pushes the body off him. You reach out offering him your hand. He hesitates for a second before accepting it and you pull him up. 

“Hurry up, we need to go.” He says reaching down to pull the knife out his neck. He wipes it on his leg before handing it back to you.

“Fuck me, not even a thank you.” You scoff putting the knife back on your hip. You leave the room going back into the surgery. You pack the last of the gauze and whatever sterile supplies you can find. An opened scalpel falls on the floor making you jump. 

It still has the cover over the blade. You’ll have to give the knife back to Ghost but the scalpel, it’s small, no one would know you have it. 

“Let’s go.” Ghost calls sticking his head in the room before leaving back towards the back door. You look at the scalpel on the floor. 

If you take it and they find it they could kill you. If you leave it you have no way to defend yourself either way. You sigh looking over at the door. 

How easy it would be to betray them.

..

It’s raining when you make it back to the safe house. They’ve piled the bodies up in the shed. They probably won’t get any kind of funeral until Farah’s troops get here, even then if she learns who they are they’ll most likely be dumped somewhere. Or buried in a mass grave, not like the commander in Chief of the ULF has time for Russian Al Qatala operatives. 

“What happened!?” Soap asks, rushing up to Ghost. The rain washed most of the blood off you both, but not all. 

“Nothing. Just a slight complication.” You shake your head going over to the sofa and putting the bags down. Price looks up at you, you smile at him. 

“Can I get cleaned up?” You ask the room. 

“Yeah.” Price says. You walk over to Ghost being fussed over by Soap. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns to look at you. You hold the knife out for him. 

“Here.” You say. He takes it out of your hand but doesn’t say anything. You huff pressing your lips together, you didn’t expect anything. You turn to head up to the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” He calls. It stops you in your tracks. You turn back and nod at him. The scalpel you hid in your waistband suddenly feels like a lead weight. 

Banners by plum98

[darlingdaisyfarm]

───୨ৎ praise that old man, girl!

a/n: i adore Stanley Pines and apparently im not alone because the amount of asks i got for nsfw with this man?? who am i to deny the people what they want?? also one anon asked for public sex with Stanley sooo here you go angel!

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal and oral sex (f receiving), age gap, dirty talk, older man/younger woman, degradation + praise, size kink, dumbification, public sex, rough sex, breeding kink

You hadn’t exactly walked into the Mystery Shack with dreams of employment. Stan had hired you on the spot, half-serious when he said he couldn’t afford to be picky. “you got a pulse? can count to ten? good, you’re in,” while shoving a broom into your hands.

You’d been working here for a while now and Stanley Pines had somehow, against all reason, taken a liking to you. You weren’t like the other employees, you were sarcastic and always ready with a quick comeback. It didn’t take long for Stan to notice and he loved the fact that you didn’t take his shit. He loved how you could dish it out just as good as he could.

You genuinely liked your work. The old place had its charm and Stan, despite his grumpy act, was actually funny in his own way.

You were sharp, quick with the same kind of deadpan humor Stan wielded like a weapon. when tourists asked the weirdest and dumbest questions as “how does this yeti paw feel so real?”, you’d shrug and go, “oh, Mr. Pines wrestled the guy for it last spring! you should’ve seen him in the ring.”

And somehow, your nonsense never grated on him.

He’d grumble about you “driving him crazy,” but the truth was, he admired how you handled people, how you could spin up a lie on the spot and sell it with a sly smirk. Even when you worked him up, you had a knack for knowing how to make him laugh before he could stay mad.

Like the time you’d swapped the “do not touch” signs in the gift shop with ones reading “please steal this.” When Stan stormed out of his office, you barely flinched. “don’t blame me. Soos did it,” you’d said again and he’d folded his arms, sighing.

“Kid, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.”

“Then you’ll get to take a vacation, Mr. Pines.”

You had a way of making him feel younger, somehow. Not just the old man with a bad back and a million regrets. Around you, he felt like the guy who still had a chance to make someone smile. And god, he loved that.

Because, god, you talk back, crack jokes, get in his face with that stupid grin of yours. And he knows you know how to get under his skin. It’s annoying and hilarious at the same time.

You’re a disaster of a worker. He’ll admit that to anyone, but for some reason, Stan forgives you. every time. “who did this? who messed up the brochures?” and you always say the same thing “Soos.”

And fuck, he adores it, the way you lie so easily and confidently. He's not mad, but charmed by it. And maybe a little turned on too, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

“You know, i should fire you, right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t, cause i’m too cute, Mr. Pines.”

Stan had wanted to stay mad, but how could he? Every time you messed up, he found a way to let it slide, not because you were good at covering your tracks, but because you always knew just what to say, how to make him forget the shit you’d done. You made it all worth it.

The pick-up lines started a few weeks in. At first, they were awful, so bad that you’d nearly die of secondhand embarrassment. “you must be tired, ‘cause you’ve been running through my mind all day, doll,” he'd say with a lazy wink. and, of course, you’d always have something ready: “you should probably take a nap then, Mr. Mystery, you’re getting old.”

The first time Stanley tried to flirt with you, he didn’t know how it’d feel. He was always smooth, always had a line ready, but it always went wrong with you. “you know, i must be a snowflake ‘cause i’m falling for you.” but before he could even get the whole line out, you shot back, “snowflakes melt. Is that really how you want to end up?”

He’d blink, caught off guard, then chuckle. “smartass.”

But Stan, the bastard, he loved that about you.

He loved how you never pretended to be anything you weren’t. No frilly nonsense or sugar-coating, just honest humor that reminded him of his own shitty jokes. You didn’t back down, never tiptoed around him, and he couldn’t even be mad when you lied about the mess-ups.

His flirts were always the same, predictable, corny, but somehow, Stan delivered them with the precision of a seasoned performer. He would laugh at your attempts to flirt back what made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “you’re cute when you’re trying to be a romantic,” you say as you lean against the counter with a teasing grin. “but i’m still gonna need a drink to believe you.”

Stanley grew bolder though. “if I were a few years younger. . .”

“You’d still be a pervert?”

“Nah, just a smooth talker, toots,” he’d grin, trailing his fingers over a stack of papers as you walked past, brown eyes never leaving you

The more you two exchanged these ridiculous lines, the more the tension built. The fake flirting, the dumb compliments, it was a game to both of you and neither of you could stop playing.

The shack is empty, just for now. It's an early morning in Gravity Falls, the aroma of coffee that Stan insisted on brewing too strong fills the air. He was at the counter, organising some brochures for the tours, his usual tourist-trap grin nowhere to be found yet.

Tourists haven’t arrived yet.

You were running a little late today, again. Not that Stanley really cared, but he always pretended to. The man was predictable like that. By now, you’d learned that his bark was worse than his bite, though sometimes, you didn’t mind the idea of getting a little bitten.

You walk into the Shack with coffee in one hand and bag slung over your shoulder, the creak of the floorboards greeting you. Stan was leaning against the counter when you came, scribbling something on his clipboard, his back turned to you. And that’s when you saw it.

He wasn’t wearing his girdle and it was impossible not to notice the soft swell of his stomach beneath his shirt.

Fuck. You swallow hard, trying to act normal, but there’s no stopping the heat pooling low in your belly. Mr. Pines, all thick and broad, strong arms, messy morning hair, his belly curving under his chest, that's just too much

And while anyone else might have held back, might’ve thought better of sneaking up on their boss, you didn’t hesitate. The moment you saw him, your lips curled into a smirk.

He hasn’t noticed you yet.

Stepping closer, your let your hands slide over his clothes until your palms rested against the warm curve of his belly. He jumps immediately, his hand jerking across the paper, leaving a thick, jagged line of ink.

“What the— hey! what’re you doin’, kid?!”

“Just admiring my boss?” you grin wider, leaning into him.

Another grumpy “pfft. yeah, right.” comes your way when Stan moves to brush your hands away, but you just dig your fingers in harder, letting your breasts press against his back.

“You’ve been hiding this from me all this time? What a shame.”

His face burns instantly, bright red flushing up his neck. “dammit, don’t go grabbin’ me like that! i’m too old for—”

“Oh, come on,” you cut him off, crowding him against the counter. “you’re not too anything. in fact,” your fingers dip just slightly below his beltline, teasing. “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Perfect? hah, are you outta your damn mind? Look at me! I’m no spring chicken, alright? i’ve got—”

“Got what, Mr. Pines?” you interrupt. “nice body?” your nails scrape lightly against your boss, earning a shaky exhale from him. “i like it. a lot.”

“Cut it out, kid, this ain’t the kinda body women go crazy for. You’re wastin’ your time”

You frown. “says who?”

He huffs in embarrassment. “C’mon, you've seen it. I'm too old and- and uh, rough around the edges?”

“Damn, exactly what i like,” his whole body stiffens under your touch. “big strong hands, broad chest and this belly, i want all of it, Mr. Pines.”

“You got a filthy mouth, y’know.”

“Oh, i had a good teacher.” you giggle, feeling him already getting hard. “you ever been touched like this, Mr. Pines?”

Stan exhales hard, irritated and flustered. “‘course I have, don’t talk like I’m some goddamn virgin.”

“Thats not what i meant.” your nails scrape, dragging slow over his belly, over the dips and curves.

He tries to change the tactics then. “listen, sweetie, i’m too old for this shit, alright? you- you deserve some young, pretty guy who—“

“Who what? who doesn’t look half as good as you? who can’t make me laugh the way you do? who doesn’t make me want to do this? i like it thick, broad, strong. You could just throw me around and have your way with me, Mr. Pines.”

Stanley fucking stops breathing. Hes hesitating because he doesn’t want to admit he’s just as fucking hungry for this as you are.

He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep his composure. “You- you’re crazy, y’know that?” but you always knew how to get under his skin.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t here to keep you on your toes.” your fingertips graze his bulge once more and that's it. Stan’s breath stutters in his throat.

“Hot belgium waffles, you better be serious, sweetheart.” he’s already turning, crowding you against the counter, gripping your waist, your hips, your ass.

“Why wouldn’t i be?” you gasp after you say the last word when he palms your tits, kneads them roughly.

“You wanna be fucked like that? like a real man oughta do it?” he leans closer to your face. You nod too eagerly and Stan doesn’t waste a second “we better make this quick,” while his fingers already yanking at your clothes, dragging you onto the counter, pressing his mouth to yours.

Quick. Ha.

Stan kisses like he’s trying to eat you alive, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan, grinding against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing into your stomach

You should have known better. Should’ve known better than to touch him like that, to let your fingers linger on the soft curve of his belly as he stood there, all unbuttoned and exposed. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment your hands landed there, the pull was too strong, and you knew that if you didn’t take it now, you’d burn up inside.

“You sure you want this, baby? ‘cause once i start, i’m not stoppin.” you nod, gasping for breath, and that’s all he needs. “good, i’ve been holding back long enough.” he gropes you, touches you everywhere, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” your bra is barely on you before he’s palming your tits, squeezing rough, thumbing your nipples, watching them peak.

He licks his lips, then leans down and latches on. Wet, sucking, pulling noises fill the Shack. You arch, whimper, push into his mouth and he groans. “needy little thing, ain’t ya?” he switches breasts, drags his tongue over the swell, teeth scraping before sucking your nipple into his mouth, rolling it, flicking it.

Stanley Pines, despite his gruff exterior, is a sweaty mess in front of you. A man that had given up, probably, on ever being seen as sexy. That’s what made it so deliciously easy to shatter him. To break that cold shell. Because he didn’t see it, did he? He didn’t see how much his body, his age, even his wrinkles, didn’t matter to you. You just want him to feel it. You want him to feel desired, so badly.

“Fucking hell, yer driving me insane, toots.”

You laugh breathlessly. “don’t be so dramatic, old man. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one,” he growls as he pushes you back against the counter, gripping your thighs.

His mouth is on you again, kissing down your neck, biting, his tongue leaving hot scorching wet trails that fill your stomach with butterflies. You grind against him, feeling the press of his cock through his pants.

“You want this, huh? want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in?”

“Yes, i need you, Mr. Pines.” your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Stanley presses his thick fingers against your underwear, circling your throbbing clit through your panties, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

“Already so wet. Hell, you’re gonna take me so good, aren’t ya? this tight little pussy’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You moan, your head falling back, your body arching against him as he works you with his fingers faster, harder.

“Please, please, please, need you!” then, out of the blue, or maybe because you're too lost to even care so you'd mumble everything that comes out of your mouth, you quietly admit. “Mr. Pines, f-fuck, ive touched myself to the thought of you—”

Stanley looks at you. “say that again.”

“I've thought about you, i fingered myself imagining it was your cock.” you say quietly, looking at him with little hearts in your puppy eyes.

“Jesus christ, you filthy little thing.”

“Stan—”

“Mr. Pines.” fuck. the way he corrects you, heat coils in your stomach, between your legs. “You wanna get fucked good, you use the right name.”

“M-Mr. Pines—fuck, please—” his fingers press harder, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clothed clit.

“Soaked. And i ain’t even touched you yet.” you whine, pressing into his hands, your hips twitching. And that bastard laughs. “poor thing, you really need it, huh? sweetie, you’re lucky i’m not makin’ you beg for it.” yet, he forgot to add.

You’re about to retort, but then his fingers slide your panties to the side, spreading your folds, dragging through your wet slit.

“Fuck, baby, dripping all over my fingers.”

“N-need you—”

“Aw, yeah? that so?” he pushes a finger in your pussy so fucking slow, savouring the way your little cunt takes his thick digit, already imagining how perfect it'd be with his cock instead. “tight angel, fuck, so tight.” Stan manhandles you roughly, spreading your legs with his hands, kneeling in front of you, about to devour you whole. You feel his hot breath against your core and when he leans in and his tongue finally licks a long, slow stripe through your folds, you swear you see stars.

“Taste even better than i thought,” he groans, voice muffled against your pussy. His big hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking like a man starved.

“Mr. Pines—oh my g-god—” Stanley keeps grunting and moaning, the vibration sending shocks through your body.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name like that. Can’t get enough of you, doll.” his warm tongue flicks your swollen clit and he slides two fingers into you, curling them, scissoring. Your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down with one arm across your stomach. “Stay still, princess, let me take care of you.”

You’re already close and he knows it, his fingers pumping into you faster, his mouth relentless on your clit. You fall over the edge with a cry, your thighs trembling as he works you through it, fingers still moving, tongue still teasing, until you’re begging him to stop from overstimulation, tugging his hair. Stanley pulls back, lips and chin glistening and grins like the filthy bastard he is. “cant believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.”

He stands, towering over you and you reach for him, fumbling with his belt. When the metal buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the Shack, Stanley impatiently shoves his pants down to free himself.

Your gaze drops and your eyes widen. Jesus christ.

“Like what you see?”

“I’d be stupid not to,” you grin, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him, making him curse under his breath, his hips jerking into your hand as he grabs your wrist, guiding you to pump his hard length slowly.

But you two don't have much time so he holds your panties aside with one hand, lining himself up with the other and with a single thrust, Stan buries himself inside you, stretching you so perfectly it makes your vision blur.

“Fuck,” his hands grip your hips so hard you were sure there will be bruises. “you’re so fuckin’ tight and warm. Goddamn, sweetheart.”

Your response breaks off into a whimper as he starts moving, slow at first to let you get used, his hips rolling into yours smoothly.

“That’s it, take it, baby, all of me.” you let out a soft moan, looking down where you both connected and he grins, pressing his hand against your stomach, where the outline of him bulged beneath your skin. “look at that, i’m so fuckin’ deep, i can feel myself here. You feel it, baby? feel me stretchin’ ya open?”

You nod frantically, your head spinning with every relentless thrust as he stretches you in ways you didn’t think possible. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, your body arching against him as he sets a brutal pace, driving into you over and over again.

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin' an old bastard like me ruin ya.”

You can only nod, your needy voice lost to the pleasure as youre getting fucked that good, right here in the Shack, where anyone could walk in.

He’s watching you, watching your pussy stretch around his fat cock, watching the way you tremble. His big hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, forcing you to take all of him.

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this before, huh?” he slams into you again, making the counter creak beneath you. Using his strong hands he keeps you in place as his cock drives in and out of your dripping, swollen cunt.

“C'mon, answer me, baby,” he growls, his hand sliding up to grab your jaw, forcing your glazed-over eyes to meet his. His cock buries deep, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. ”didn’t ask for silence. you ever been fucked like this before?”

Your eyes are closed as you shake your head, whimpering. “n-no.”

“No, what?”

"N-no one’s ever fucked me like this, Mr. Pines—”

“Good girl, use your words,” Stan grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “tell me how much you love this cock.”

“S-so much,” you manage to choke out between pathetic whines and mewls, your brain turning into useless mess. “i love it, i love you, Mr. Pines, don’t stop!” tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Poor thing, all those boys before me and none of ‘em knew how to stretch this perfect cunt open right.” he shifts his hips, grindings his cock against your walls, making you sob. “bet they didn’t even know how to fuck you proper, huh? didn’t know how to make ya beg?”

You shake your head and gasp, clinging to him.

His hand slides down your body, rough fingers rubbing over your swollen, sensitive clit. “owwh, they never even made ya cum, did they, sweetheart?”

“No, they didn’t, Mr. Pines.”

“Fuckin’ shame. all those useless boys, never knew what they were missin’.” his thumb circles your clit. “but don't worry, this pussy’s mine now, ya hear me? No one else’s. I’m the only one who can fuck ya like this, make ya feel this good.”

“Mr. Pines, ple-please. . .’

“Please what, sugar?” he pants, fucking you so deep you swear you feel him rearranging your insides.

You sob, tears spilling from your pretty eyes. “p-please, make me cum—” Stan doesn’t let up, not even for a second. His cock is buried so deep inside you that you can barely breathe and think, barely do anything but moan and take it like the filthy little thing you are.

“Aw, baby, you gonna cum already? just from my cock stretchin’ ya open like this?” you nod, your body tightening around him. “fuck, that’s right, sweetheart, squeeze me just like that. Never thought i’d get to ruin somethin’ so perfect.” his pace picks up, his cock pounding into you so hard you’re sure the counter’s going to break.

You were supposed to keep it quick. just a little pre-tour fuck as you both said.

But thirty minutes turned into sixty and sixty turned into absolute depravity.

The counter was first, but then Stan couldn’t stop. His cock is buried deep inside your soaked, needy cunt as his hands hold you while he thrusts into you.

"Fuckin’ christ, doll, this pussy’s gonna be the death of me."

You had your legs around his waist, arms locked around his neck, Stanley fucking into you so deep you felt like you’d pass out. But then he lifted you up, didn’t even bother pulling out, just carried you like you weighed nothing, still fucking up into you, and took you across the shack like a man possessed.

“Mr. Pines!” and “so good!” were the only words you knew.

“Thought we were keepin’ this quick, huh?” he grunts. “then why the fuck can’t i stop?”

You can’t even answer because your mouth is too busy moaning, gasping, babbling absolute nonsense while he splits you open, every inch pushing against your soft, sensitive walls, stuffing your tight pussy full.

You arch your back, sobbing, because you need it fast again, rough again, animalistic again. And he fucking gives it to you, by grabbing your thighs, folding you in half and absolutely destroying you.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl, letting an old bastard like me ruin this tight little pussy. Even dreamed about this, ugh, layin’ awake at night, fingers buried in that needy little cunt, wishin’ it was me.”

What can you say except loud “yesyesyes!” gasps? However, Stanley is satisfied with that.

“Yeah? bet you’re never gonna want anyone else fuckin’ you again.”

He doesn’t stop. Every display case. Every fake cryptid setup. Even the damn vending machine.

“You're so fuckin’ wet, doll, i could slide into this little cunt with no effort at all.”

Fake exhibits? fucked over them. That fake monster cage? Bent over it. That dusty-ass animatronic Stan managed to steal? yeah, he fucked you right in front of it, hands gripping your ass, hips slamming into yours so hard the damn thing started moving

Stan literally punched it to shut it up.

But did he stop? no.

“Shut the hell up, buddy,” he muttered to the machine, before shoving his cock back inside you and making you scream.

but the final round?

Staff room.

Both of you panting, sweaty, while he takes you from behind, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the slick sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty Shack.

Or, well, not so empty anymore, because suddenly you hear the honk of a tourist bus outside.

Stan’s head snaps up. “oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me—”

His eyes dart to the stupid clock on the wall and he actually freezes for a second.

“We— we were supposed to open, like—shit, twenty minutes ago.”

“So? keep going.” you say lazily under him.

“Oh, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” but does he stop? does he fucking stop?

No, no he does not. Instead, he fucks you harder.

“I'm gonna make this quick, baby, gonna fill you up real nice, then i gotta—fuck—gotta get to work—“

But then— “uh, Mr. Mystery?”

fuck.

Stan’s body locks up and you both freeze. The voice is right outside the door. Stanley lets out the deepest, most exhausted sigh. “Uh, yeah?”

The tourist hums. “sooo i was wondering, when does the tour start? we’ve been waiting outside for a while.”

Stan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “yeah, yeah, uh, give me five minutes, kid, i got, uh, got a bad back today, y'know? just need a second to—uhhh—” you clench around him, tight, so fucking tight and his words cut off in a groan.

He glares at you. you just smirk.

“You okay in there, Mr. Mystery?”

Stan forces his voice steady. “yeah, yeah, just—” he grits his teeth. “just need a minute to stretch it out.” he snaps his hips forward, stuffing his cock back into your cunt, deep and slow, forcing you to feel every thick, throbbing inch

You whimper, just to fuck with him because this old man is so funny when annoyed.

“Fuckin’ hell, stop that.” he growls under his breath at you.

But the tourist won’t leave.

“So, uh, what’s the official policy on taking pictures of the fake exhibits?”

Stan’s eye twitches, his hips jerk forward involuntarily and you let out a choked gasp.

The tourist pauses.

“Mr. Mystery? are you sure you're okay?”

Stan immediately shoves a hand over your mouth. “Told you, just back’s actin’ up, kid.”

The tourist keeps talking.

“What do you think the likelihood is of alien activity in oregon? because personally, i think—”

You clench around him again. Stan chokes on a groan, his cock throbbing inside you as he tries to keep his voice normal.

“Listen, kid, why don’t you, uh, go look at the gift shop or somethin’, huh?”

“Oh, but i wanted to ask about—”

Stan loses it

“NOT NOW, KID. TOUR STARTS IN TEN MINUTES. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.”

“Ohh. . . Okay?” fucking finally, you hear footsteps and door creaking, that idiot leaving

Stanley slumps forward, forehead against your shoulder.

���Poor Mr. Mystery,” you tease, moving your hips. “just trying to do his job, but this damn girl won’t stop teasing him—”

“Ohhh, you thought you were so fuckin’ cute, huh?” the deep rasp of his voice sends shivers down your spine. His chest is pressed against your back, his weight holding you down while his cock still stuffed inside your ruined cunt. “moanin’ all pretty while i was tryna talk? teasin’ me in front of that dumbass tourist. Makin’ those fuckin’ sounds on purpose. Thought i wouldn’t do somethin’ about it?”

You yelp when his hand grips your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “you wanna act like a dumb little slut? then i’m gonna fuck you like one.” after that, Stan pulls out slowly, torturously just to slam back in.

You cry out. No, the sound you make would be better described as pathetic loud whine.

But Stan slaps a hand over your mouth, pressing you into the couch. “uh-uh, pretty, you don’t get to be loud now. you lost that privilege.”

His cock is so deep, stretching your cunt open, filling you completely. Every thrust is hard, brutal, messy, wet. Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in, greedy for more as you whimper into his big palm. The couch creaks under you, the whole room still eerily silent except for the filthy, wet sounds of him using you.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby? thought you liked teasin’ me. now you can’t even take my cock?” as you nearly fall from the fast rhythm. Stan laughs against your ear. “thought you wanted me to fuckin’ ruin you, huh? turn this sloppy little cunt into my personal fuckhole?”

You can't even moan as Stan snaps his hips up, hitting so deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“What’s the matter, princess? feelin’ a little too full?” his belly presses against your back, his size overwhelming you, his weight pinning you down, making sure you can’t run from him as he grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him, forces you to take every inch. “ this little cunt’s gonna take every last drop, huh? ‘cause that’s what you are, ain’tcha?”

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your head so he can look in your glassy eyes.

“Say it, sweetie. Tell me what you are.”

Your brows knit together. “m’ your dumb little slut, Mr. Pines. . .m’ made to take your cock—” words come out barely coherent through the lewd slap of skin-on-skin filling the room.

Damn right. His hand slides down, finding your clit, rubbing it fast. Your body jerks, overstimulated.

“Too much?” his voice is mocking. “too fuckin’ bad, baby. Shoulda thought of that before you started actin’ like a brat.”

You’re already close again, what is it now, your sixth orgasm? Eighth? You shake too hard in his hands as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. make you fuckin’ mine. you want that? lemme hear you beg.”

”P-please. . . ple, mhm. . .hhng . .” your words muffled against his palm.

“Please what?”

“Please—please breed my messy cunt, Mr. Pines—please, please—”

“Holy shit, baby, you want me to breed this little pussy? want me to fill you so full you’ll be drippin’ down your thighs all day?”

You nod frantically and Stanley feels you smile widely against his skin what makes him laugh. Such a dumb slut you are.

“Greedy little thing. y'know i gotta work today, right?” his cock throbs inside you, stuffing you so full you can feel him in your stomach. ”but fuck- fuck, baby, can’t help it.” his hips snap forward, burying himself completely as he cums, making you feel every pulse, every throbbing rope of his hot seed spilling inside you, flooding your pussy.

Your own orgasm hits so hard your vision whites out, your cunt clenching tight, squeezing him, milking him dry.

“Oh, that's it, baby, there it is. Good little slut.” you collapse, trembling, fucked-out and absolutely ruined.

Stan stays inside you, catching his breath, watching as his cum spills out, dripping down your thighs. He leans down, kisses your neck. “gonna clean you up, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him through tired eyes, dizzy. “with what?”

He smirks. “my fuckin’ tongue.” uh oh, you guess Mystery Shack is gonna open late today because even though Stanley Pines has a job to do, first he’s gotta make sure his messy girl is properly taken care of.

[mayadoesfandomstuff]

Now with reading summaries of the podcast episode and watching some of the clips, it genuinely triggers my anxiety hearing about how Dream treated his friends and especially those who are more vulnerable than him (like Tommy being a teenager), especially since I experienced the same kind of thing with one of my ex toxic friend from about last year this time and it's so unnerving.

Tommy saying that he tried settling things privately, keeps getting empty apologies, and then for Dream to just keep doing what he was doing without changing anything really brought me back to my own conversations where I would basically almost beg her to reflect on how she's hurt me and her apologizing with a "I'm sorry you felt that way." and then continuing on to act the same way.

Tommy and Jack talking about how it was almost like he didn't understood what he did was wrong and it taking so much to explain things to him and in the end the whole thing not clicking, reminded me of long conversations I had with her trying to make her understand why she was being hurtful and still, at the end of it, still not agreeing with me on why her words were hurtful to a mutual friend.

Tommy questioning whether or not he's accurate on how badly dream treats him and only having very few people to vent to really hit hard and it brought me back to when I could only talk about how bad my ex friend was to me to only one person who wasn't trying to play devil's advocate for her. Someone who was also hurt and has also publicly expressed her disdain for her to the rest of the friend group and we honestly felt like conspiracy theorists half the time who couldn't speak about this publicly or outside our most inner circles (i.e. just us and maybe my family members).

There's so much of this that they talked about that I'm seeing disturbing parallels to me and that relationship and it does make me wonder if it was just a toxic friendship or outright emotional abuse or both or am I crazy or whatever because it's not like we had a large age gap and the only thing she may have over me was that she was physically abled while I was housebound and nearly isolated except with my family and online conversations with our same mutual friends and maybe she was lighter skinned and was actively colorist against me and my other friend that she also hurt but man, this is really making me think.

My heart goes out for Tommy and I do hope that he closes this chapter of his life and finds success in his new ventures and hoping that he never has to interact with Dream or his associates again.