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batsandbugs · 2 years

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Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-"

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?”

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. “I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?”

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

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cryptidofthekeys · 1 year

Note

Friendo Chaaaaaaaase

Do you have a favourite piece of LOOOOOOORE for your OCs that you're itching to sharing with somebody?

<3 - Mitch

*STARING AT YOU INTENSELY*

Y E S- I mean, ahem, yes- yes I do- I am totally normal about my OCs and sonas and things- mhm,, anyways-

Uh it's hard for me to talk about one without hearing like a specific name involved (I have a LOT of OCs/Sonas Friendo Mitch gfjdkdfks)

But I can try to for this post- And ya know since Spooky Month has literally just latched onto me and wont let me go no matter where I try- I'll talk about CC, I WAS going to talk about Alan too but this post will already be too long but if ya want to really hear about Alan too u or someone can send an ask)

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(A keep reading bc this is going to be a long one, Friendo Mitch so prepare yourself!!! You and others betta prepare!!! Also edit: I realized you said Favorite piece of lore gjkfddkfjsd I apologize in advance for this clusterfuck of a post y'all are about to see)

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ALSO ALSO TWs: Mentions of Kidnapping, Drugging, Murder/Animal Murder, and Cannibalism (the lads WILL be the lads)

CC of course for starters because he is well, hes not the OG (I think a lot of people if they pay attention to my content would think CC's the og spooky month oc/sona of mine but nope, the FIRST SM Character I made was a pathetic wet cat of a man named Frederick but he has no lore, thats the point- anyways)

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CC is the one I use for selfshipping purposes most of the time,, hes- okay well hes oblivious to the danger HE could be in/has been in, he's a dumb luck dude who has survived by that ALONE, I feel kinda bad bc he has no like,, hes not related to anything canon in the spookyverse,, like hes got no part to play in the canon storyline in the long run-

So keep in mind this is all PURELY me, my canon gfhjdkdjfs

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The first one CC met of the bunch of stinky bastards was Dexter, unlike in canon- Dexter was found by CC in the dumpster, like he literally took a look at this perfectly in good condition and cute doll and said ...Aww, your cute- you're coming home with me! (Dumb idiot didn't even see the box had been stabbed with a knife so many times)

So he brought Dex home, got him cleaned up n stuff, completely unaware Dexter is sentient and ya know,, alive,, and he just goes about his night completely fucking oblivious to the doll trying to kill him (Btw, CC has three dogs, Cash, Winnie The Pooch, and Tootsie Roll)

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Dex when he couldn't get to CC ...Well, he is kinda,, not the greatest for animals but the moment CC saw this, he fucking slammed that tiny bitch against the wall like "OH H E L L NO, NOT M Y BABIES..." Instead of like ya know being normal and trying to throw Dex out, he tells Dexter to go let off some fucking steam and then come back when hes done so they can talk

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Dex is shocked and completely dumbfounded that CC tells him to come b a c k but because Dexter is genuinely a lil curious even tho he denied it, he does so- and comes back and CC lays down the law for Dexter, that if hes gonna be staying here, his dogs are OFF limits, you cant hurt his sons

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Dexter is completely at a loss and goes basically like WTF DO YOU MEAN IF IM GOING TO STAY HERE, WHY ARENT YOU KICKING ME OUT? WHY DONT YOU LIKE HATE ME,, OR FEAR ME OR SOMETHING- (oh btw I forgot to mention CC had called Dex a cute doll, cute, adorable, etc before this incident took place,, which is a big thing bc in canon peeps usually call him an ugly doll which ...he is but i love him)

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CC just shrugs at him and tells him that he likes him, he thinks hes kinda cute, he seems like good company when hes not angry n such and Dex just goes . . . . . . Alright, fine, deal- fhjgdkdgjfs and that's how CC acquires husband number u n o (I do have an AU where CC dates Dexter when hes not possessing that Happy Fella Doll, literally nothing special its just an AU where Dex is alive)

Dexter also felt guilty for how they first met for the longest time, apologizing and making it up to CC in the long run, hell even now he can get a little scared sometimes that he'll wind up losing control (even tho Bob and or Frank have both said they'll fucking punt him if he tries ...CC didn't approve of that...)

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CC has made Dexter his old exterminating outfit as well, he seen ADs and pictures of what Dex looked like before the doll possession (he has found that bit out,, I forgot gfhfjkdfgds he found that bit out and feels terrible for Dexter, the way he went and now that hes stuck in a body he'd rather not have)

So CC decided to sew up a lil present for Dexter, he made the old exterminating outfit and even his fucking bag to the best of his ability, when he showed Dexter that surprise, he literally fucking cried and hugged CC so much after that

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Next up, CC met Frank in quite possibly the dumbest way possible,, CC loves to stroll at night alone and he saw an ice cream truck in the distance, he got excited in hopes he'd get some late night sweets, and he knocked on the window ...When nobody answered he got curious, wondering if this was abandoned orrr not

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It's not... He goes inside only to discover Frank, literally... Well doing his stuff, the kidnapping thing- the druggin bit- ya know,, EITHER WAY- CC saw this, Frank looked back at him (them silly lil fnaf lookin ass eyes just wide as could be) CC was standing there before literally just blinking and being like ...wow,, your hot, and tall, and beefy anyways can I get some ice cream big guy???

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Frank deadpans at CC (HE SAYS THAT BTW, OUT LOUD, NO FILTER) and just literally blinks before grinning "Hehe... Sure..." CC's encounter with Frank was the most fucking tame one out of the bunch, Frank did question if CC was going to tell anyone bout this but CC just shook his head 'nah man, idc lol oop' and then Frank gave him a fucking ice cream, free of charge

...NOT- NOTHINGS IN IT BTW DONT WORRY GHJFKJGFHDFKS its legit just actual ice cream

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CC then wanders off after that but Frank p much comes back to chill and hang with CC ...He does have some major beef with Dexter when he sees him at first tho like ...YOU, YOUR THE ONE THAT BIT ME, YEAH AND YOUR THE ONE THAT PUNCHED ME (before they became buddies with one another, when CC was not around, they'd fuckin fight,, have a full on smackdown and then when CC was around they'd act like angels)

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After awhile of hanging out, I don't have specifics on how it happened actually, but there's husband number 2 for CC- and then finally,, the one you'll be a lil familiar with Friendo Mitch!! Its Bob time!!

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Sooo CC and the two lads, Frank n Dex went to Boys n Grills bc they h u n g y, Frank drove em of course in his van,, they got inside, immediately noticed CC has a fucking crush on the big guy and just INSTANTLY tease him about it (Btw if I haven't made it crystal clear, CC is Polyamorous)

CC gets a lil shy bc the boys are fucking teasing him over this and then they order food, CC orders just fries bc he cant eat burgers or his tummy hurty, Dexter doesn't eat bc well, hes a doll now- and Frank gets a burger

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After they ate, the two literally fucking let CC work his magic,, just being like you got this lil man,, before they just fucking left (...JUST BACK TO THE VAN HJGFKDJDGF T-THEY DIDNT LEAVE HIM A T BOYS AND GRILLS) and then CC was alone with Bob.

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Bob had been noticing CC was shy with him this entire time,, he had noticed it from the start and well all I'll say is the fucker didnt help matters- but also he thought CC was nervous about him which is why he decided to try scarin CC with some of his cannibal facts but CC is again a fucking dumbass

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He INSTANTLY lights up and takes out a notepad and goes "Tell me more!" he's interested in the facts bc well hes a horror writer and Bob is giving him some good pointers for that topic ...Bob actually gets a lil happy someone enjoys his facts for once but also weirded out bc wtf ur supposed to be scared? ...He tells him facts for a bit before CC says he has to go, that it was nice meeting him!

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Later that night... Bob in his true fashion had broken into CC's home bc I mean, if I haven't established it also yet,, I have picked the worst three to latch onto, they aren't good (...well to CC they are, I need to clarify btw, they are NOT mean or abusive or some weird shit to CC, they are genuinely loving, caring partners to him BUT!!! CC is not going to try and change them either, he loves them just for them, he's kinda,, mm I wanna say CC is morally grey if thats the right term to use,, bc he wont necessarily do anything bad ..Unless you hurt his dogs or husbands... but usually he's morally grey)

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ANYWAYS- Dexter heard it but he just thought it was one of CC's dogs messing around, bc he also heard some barking from the dogs, he knew Cash sometimes gets late night zoomies, but a few mins after CC gets up bc sometimes he cant sleep and just decides fuck it, imma head out-

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so CC heads into the kitchen to get himself some water and then encounters a big ol devil fella, breathing heavily and standing there in the kitchen, turning to face him, before Bob can even say a fact, CC waves with a polite smile "Oh hey Bob, what's up?" The man fucking looks shocked "...How'd ya know it was me?!"

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CC woulda chuckled at that and been like "The eyes, the smile, the heavy breathing" Bob gets a bit angry bc like ok how dare you not be fuckin scared of me I BROKE INTO YOUR HOUSE, I CAN LITERALLY COOK YOU IN YOUR OWN KITCHEN-

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CC isn't scared, he just says Bob is hot and then goes past him, giving him a pat on the cheek to get something to drink from the fridge, Bob is just,, steaming over there,, like wtf is wrong with this guy,, he has no idea he could be in literal danger rn- CC is just treating him so friendly, kindly, either way- CC offers Bob some candy by the end of this

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Bob just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before just taking the candy bowl in its entirety and just munching down with a grin- hes sitting at the table with CC whose drinking some milk while Dexter gets up and Frank does, they see CC sitting here with the fucking Devil Butcher himself

and they just scream "CC,, THATS THE GODDAMN CANNIBAL FROM THE NEWS, WTH ARE YOU DOING?" CC just shakes his head "It's fine, it's just Bob" and then Dexter and Frank realize "...wait shit fr?" Bob takes his mask off and just goes "Sup?"

...And so husband number three slowly gets required, not right off the bat btw,, CC didn't just automatically form a relationship fgjkdlgdjfsd thats not how it works

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A funny bit I had for CC meeting Bob lore was that Frank talked to Bob afterwards like "So your that cannibal, yeah?" Bob nods "Mhm, did ya enjoy your burger, big man?" Frank is drinking something and then pauses as he slowly turns to Bob "...What was in that burger?" Bob doesn't answer, he just grins and Frank just turns to him fully in fear "BOB, WHAT WAS IN MY FUCKING BURGER...?!"

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CC's 'lore' and this entire bit of 'lore' is literally just so fucking silly,, this is so OOC compared to literally ANYTHING canon but like I said,, CC was never made to go for any canonical spooky month storyline,, he was just made for one: My little selfshipper heart

The Silliest Lads get into all sorts of shenanigans behind the scenes,, I just have nothing posted about it vjklcfjhdfksld

now if you want something a BIT closer to any sort of canon bullshit in SM, well, if you or anyone else asks/sends another ask,, I'll talk about Alan next, he's got a storyline attached to Bob but its WAY MORE in character and canonical

I WILL WARN THO BEFOREHAND- Again,, that will also have cannibalism talk and its actually some pretty dark shit,, hes the angst OC I got,, hes been used for nothin but angst

@kayfabebabe

Also tagging you just in case bc I didn't type this up for tumblr just not to notify ya lmao,, thank you btw for asking Friendo Mitch!!! Ya got me all happy and just exhilarated to talk about my funky lil guy here! <3

#Chase Answers #thank you friendo mitch <3 #im not even going to put this clusterfuck in the main tags of the sm stuff #it'll probably wind up there anyways with how many times i said their names but either way #spooky month oc #there- ok ONE tag #The Silliest Lads <3 #fhjdkdjfs im genuinely so sorry for how incredibly long this is but once i get asked i dont stfu fjdklfjds

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immortuos · 3 years

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what the HECK is UP i love how all it takes is for me to rewatch any of the films and alice perks right up like a meerkat ANYWAYS is this blog still relevant :D <3

#x || out of the hive (ooc)#[ would y'all have back one rolling dumpster that is me? ]

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youknow-igetit · 4 years

Text

during the height of the minyard-josten rivalry, a tiktok account is made titled “andrewminyardshusband”

At first it’s believed to be a stan account or something similar, since all they do is post clips from his games and interviews, half the time zoomed in on his arms with a ridiculous commentary dubbed over it

No one knows who makes the videos, mainly because they always use voice filters

But then the account starts posting videos of andrew?? Like at home?? And they’re not like reposted Instagram stories, it really seems that this person is living with andrew

(these videos coincidentally start posting around the same time that neil josten joins andrews team)

Even weirder, they actually seem to be andrews husband, which astounds literally everyone because how did no one know about this???

The account blows up, obviously. Like, millions of followers, gets verified, the whole shebang

And it isn’t always Andrew, half the time it’s videos of their cats doing cat things (he tried out the tinfoil thing to get them to stop jumping on the counters and eating his sandwiches, king got so scared by it that she hid on top of the fridge for an hour. Meanwhile, sir didn’t give a single fuck and layed down directly on the tinfoil)

The account’s most viewed video is of a slow zoom of andrews biceps with the careless whisper intro played over it

He starts answering questions in the comments while pointing the camera at andrew

“‘How did we get our cats?’ we found them in a dumpster. As far as we can tell they were raised together and fell in love. I’m 99% sure they’re lesbians”

“’why does andrew wear armbands?’ because his forearms are too powerful to be viewed by the general public” *the video is a slow zoom up to andrew’s glare*

“‘are you and andrew actually married?’ yes. fuck you.” (andrew flips off the camera with his left hand) “wrong finger, dumbass”

“‘how did you two get together?’ he threatened to kill me and I thought that was hot"

“’can you two kiss?’ like, physically? yeah. right now though? i dunno, i’m comfortable sitting on this table and andrew is all the way over on the couch”

“’whats your opinion on neil josten and the whole rivalry he has with Andrew, especially after he joined his team?’ I really don’t give a single fuck and neither does andrew”

“Have you met neil josten?” is one of the questions he gets asked and no one knows why he’s laughing so hard or why andrew rolls his eyes when he answers with “yeah he’s pretty cool”

Sometimes the other foxes make appearances in the videos, like Renee baking in their kitchen while Andrew is filching cookie dough or Nicky, Aaron, and Andrew all sitting on the floor and feeding the cats catnip.

the speculation on who andrew minyard’s husband is is astronomical. it grows beyond the exy sphere and practically every comment is “who is this guy??”

People keep asking but all he answers with is “I’m andrews husband, can y'all read?”

People ask the other foxes (who don’t say shit cause why would they), comb through their social medias to see if he’s in any pictures or videos

It is then believed that andrews husband has to be one of the foxes from Andrew’s sophomore year, and due to half of them being related to him, one being married, and one being neil josten, it is then believed that andrews husband is Kevin

At least it is until the account posts a video of kevin being asked “thoughts on being andrews husband?” “like of you being his husband?” “no, you being his husband.” “what?? Ew, no, gross” “I cant tell if that’s more insulting to Andrew or to me”

So everyone is back to square one

Until

there’s a new video on the account

And it’s of andrew on the couch reading a book and he gets asked “what’s it like having me as your husband?” but!!! There’s no voice filter?? And it sounds vaguely familiar, like they’ve heard it before?? And he wasn’t even answering a commenter question. and then Andrew grabs the phone and turns it to show neil josten, neil josten!!! sitting on the other side of the couch in a bright orange sweatshirt and a smirk while Andrew says “fucking infuriating”

Needless to say, all four million followers implode upon seeing it

#andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #aftg #all for the game #aftg headcanons #all for the game headcanons #andreil headcanons #sir fat cat mccatterson #king fluffkins

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scribbledghost · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Minotaur!Whiskey x Reader (no Y/N, F!reader)

Rating: T

Word count: 1,522

Warnings: none

Notes: No Jack in this one but rather introducing a new character for y'all to hate

The drive into town was the same as it had been the day before - somber, melancholy, and quiet. The vehicles still lined either side of the road, laid open and bare with nothing but giant spray painted X’s to show that they’d once belonged to someone.

You stopped at the same point you had before, just before the main row of shops through town. People were already milling around, some helping to pick up trash, others helping to rectify the damage that had been done to the shops. You bid hello to a few people on your way through town, continuing to move until you spotted Mayor Hendrix.

It was hard to miss her. She had always been fond of brightly-colored clothes.

You walked up just as she finished giving orders to a nearby group of volunteer electricians from the next town over.

“Well hello,” she said, giving you a one-armed hug. “Was beginnin’ to wonder if you’d changed your mind.”

“Nope,” you replied. “Just… had some stuff to take care of before I came out. That’s all.”

“At any rate, you’re here now. And just in time too, we just had an industrial dumpster delivered by the electricians. Brought it with ‘em when they rolled up.”

“Good. At least we’ll have somewhere to toss everything. Or at least what we can fit.”

“Mhm,” Darlene replied. “I think I’ll ask you to work in the general store today, if you don’t mind. It shouldn’t have any fire damage, but there’s a lotta broken glass and structural issues from people panickin’ in the early days. Plus the refrigerated stuff’s all gotta go. If you find anythin’ still intact, you’re welcome to it. Otherwise you can just sit it at the front of the store and we’ll find a way to store it later.”

“Fine with me,” you said. “Wherever you need me.”

Darlene thanked you as you walked away, and you gave her a tired smile and a nod in return.

The general store was in a sorry state. The lights were all either busted or burned out, likely due to the fire from the clothing place right next door. Broken glass covered the floor up front, a result of the door and large storefront windows being destroyed in panic. Shelves were all but empty, aisles crooked or completely knocked over. You couldn’t smell the refrigerators and freezers in the back just yet, something you attributed to the freezing weather over the past few months. Perhaps it’d kept the contents from spoiling too badly. Nonetheless, everything would still need to be thrown away for safety’s sake.

You stepped gently through the store, glass crunching beneath your shoes as you made your way to the utility room behind the front counter. What little light that filtered in from outside allowed you to locate a broom, so you grabbed it and began sweeping up the debris on the floor as best as you could.

For several minutes, you were alone in your task. Until you heard footsteps approaching, that is.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

The voice caught you by surprise. It belonged to one Mason Stillwater, another businessman in town that was part of an old family line. You’d seen him around town a few times since you’d arrived, but you’d never spoken to him other than a few exchanged pleasantries here and there. He seemed nice enough, but there was always something… off about him that you didn’t completely trust. Like he was hiding something.

Not that you could judge, of course. Goodness knew you had more than your fair share of secrets.

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“Just figured you’d still be holed up outta town, that’s all,” he answered.

“This town and its people have always taken care of me,” you said as you continued to sweep, “only right that I do what I can to take care of them in return.”

Mason hummed as if he didn’t believe your reasoning. You paused your actions, looking over at him with as much of a blank expression as you could muster. He looked you up and down, as if evaluating you.

“You seem close with the mayor,” he observed.

“I guess you could say that,” you said. “She was the first one to welcome me into town when I got here those years back.”

He hummed again. The sound was beginning to infuriate you.

“Kinda surprised she took to you so quick,” Mason said. “Normally we’re all pretty guarded around newcomers.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve been here for years now,” you said, your tone becoming short, “I don’t think I really count as a ‘newcomer’ anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I get it. I’ll just go start getting these aisles back in shape while you sweep up here, yeah?”

“Fine with me,” you said, already having gone back to your previous duty.

You could feel his eyes on you as you worked, and it concerned you. He’d never been so… analytical of your presence before, at least not as far as you remembered. Sure, he’d always struck you as someone who came from old money and owned a business, meaning he seemed like he was more than capable of being calculating and ruthless if need be. And sure, sometimes he’d seemed perhaps a little nosy in the way that most small-town folks tended to be. But he’d never really seemed malicious before, never directed that energy towards you. He’d never seemed like he’d be a threat to you or Jack’s existence in any way.

But now, as you felt his presence and his gaze, you wondered if something had changed in the man. It wouldn’t surprise you; plenty of people had changed over the infestation. For better or for worse.

Several others joined you and Mason throughout the day, helping to clean the debris, empty out the freezers and refrigerators, and realign the structure of the store. Near the end of the day, a couple of construction workers brought plywood to help board up the glass windows and door to protect the inside from the elements.

The sun was getting low in the sky when you stood by and listened to Mason report to Mayor Hendrix on the progress. More than once he tried to make it seem as though he was the sole worker in the endeavor, and each time you caught Darlene’s gaze as she looked at you. Clearly she did not believe him, but knew better than to cause a scene for now. When he was done, you bade the mayor and your fellow workers farewell and prepared to head back to your car.

Only to be stopped by the feeling of that infuriating gaze on your back.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mason?” you asked as you turned. Just as you expected, he was staring straight at you.

“Tell me something,” he said, a slight grin on his face as he approached you. “You sure you live alone all the way up in those woods?”

Your heart skipped as you used every ounce of your self-control to remain calm and composed.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you retorted.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Because I heard from a friend who heard from a friend that you took a few more rations than strictly necessary yesterday. Just seems odd for someone who lives alone.”

“I took a little extra so I’d last longer without having to come back for more,” you replied easily. You’d already come up with your excuse before you’d even asked for the rations.

As his grin grew in size, your heart dropped as you realized he didn’t believe you.

“I know you’re hiding something,” he said quietly as he leaned into your space. “And I intend on finding out what it is.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” you responded, your temper rising, “and if I catch you trespassing on my property there will be consequences. Either from me or from the law.”

Mason leaned back into place, his smug smile never leaving his face.

“It’ll be worth it to find out what you’re keeping out there,” was all he replied as he turned and began walking back into town.

Meanwhile, you continued the trek back to your car, suddenly regretful that you’d allowed the Statesman agents to take yours and Jack’s pistols when they’d cleaned out the mimics some weeks before.

When you arrived home, you found Jack outside working on preparing the garden still. He’d gotten the ground tilled, put some fresh soil atop the old, and placed the stakes in their places for the plants that would need them. Your mind raced with the possibility of Mason simply showing up unannounced and finding him outside like this, though you figured it would be far worse if you forced him to stay hidden inside.

The concern showed on his face as he met you by the front door.

“Everythin’ okay, darlin’?” he asked, a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you fibbed, though after some silence you thought better of lying to him.

“Jack… we gotta talk.”

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #minotaur whiskey #ghost scribbles

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the-chicken-or-the-banana · 3 years

Note

I always wondered how the foxes would react to finding out that it was andrew that "hit on" neil first (specially Kevin, since he was just standing right there while that happened)

(now, i don't think they would willing just talk about it but if one of them slip up...)

Btw: i absolutely adored the goodbye kisses series

AHHH sorry for being so MIA lately but i'm absolutely loving this! also i'm realizing that i'm very bad at actually getting to the point so enjoy a shit ton of irrelevant exposition :)

read it on ao3 here

— ··· —

Kevin didn't understand why they had to come to the zoo. It was smelly, there were kids screaming everywhere, and he'd nearly been stepped on three times in the past 10 minutes. He much rather preferred exy to this.

Team bonding sucked.

He trudged along beside Aaron as Dan, Matt, and Nicky actually tried socializing with the new Foxes. Normally, Kevin would jump at the chance to talk about exy with these recruits, but also, normally he didn't feel like he'd just just rolled through a flaming dumpster filled with screeching, pooping monkeys.

Kevin let out a sigh as they passed some sort of mildly interesting snake exhibit. He nudged Aaron, who was on his phone with a red face, which meant he was either texting lovey-dovey things to Katelyn or blasting an idiot in his Ochem class. You never really knew with him.

"Aaron."

Aaron just scowled at him. Kevin sighed again. Conversing was always so much more exhausting than he anticipated.

"Snakes."

"What."

"Do you want to... see the snakes?"

Aaron blinked in confusion. "Okay?"

Kevin led them to the snakes.

There, they shoved past some families and made it to the front of the glass enclosure.

"Well?" Aaron asked. "Now what do we do?"

Valid question, Kevin thought. He hadn't really considered what they were doing. He just wanted to see snakes.

He told Aaron as much, who rolled his eyes aggressively and went back to his phone.

Kevin felt a tap on his shoulder and twisted around, coming face-to-face (well, more like chest-to-face) with some sort of tour or information guide.

"Hi!" she smiled all too brightly. Kevin wanted to cover his eyes. "How are you enjoying the exhibition?"

"Um," Kevin gulped eloquently, then remembered his media training. "Oh yeah, it's great!"

"Awesome," she beamed. "You know, there's a snake feeding session in about 5 minutes if you and your son are interested."

Kevin's face contorted in confusion. He whirled around, assuming some tiny, lost child was latched near him, but when he turned back, the lady — Sandy — had her gaze intensely focused on the only other small person near him: Aaron.

Oh dear.

Aaron seemed to come to the same conclusion as Kevin did because his eyes widened comically and he hissed "I. am. not. his. son."

Sandy blinked owlishly. "Little brother then?"

Aaron threw his hands up. "I am 21! Leave me alone." He then proceeded to stomp out of the enclosure, dragging Kevin along and leaving a very flummoxed old lady behind them.

"I can't believe it," Aaron kept muttering. "Your son. Your son! I hate life."

Kevin was a bit miffed that he hadn't actually been able to see the snakes, but he figured Aaron's plight was slightly more significant than that.

After a few moments of silent walking (Kevin) and angry grumbing (Aaron), Kevin realized he couldn't see any of the Foxes anymore. He glanced around, instinctively searching for Andrew.

"Hey, do you know where Andrew and Neil went?" Kevin asked.

Aaron scoffed. "They're probably making out somewhere."

"Who's making out?"

Aaron and Kevin both gave unholy screeches as they turned around to find Nicky standing between them, a wide, innocent grin on his face.

"What the fuck," Aaron complained. "Don't do that again, you bitch."

Nicky waved him off. "Shut up. Who's making out? Might be able to close some bets."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "We just can't find Andrew and Neil anywhere. Aaron seems to believe they're off deflowering a zoo Port-A-Potty or something."

"Well then, we wouldn't want to interrupt them, right?" Nicky winked. "Anyways, we're all going to the butterfly exhibit right now so y'all have to join us. I'm not taking no for an answer."

It seemed that they had no choice, so after sharing a resigned glance, Kevin and Aaron trudged behind an overly enthusiastic Nicky while he babbled on about some parrots that he saw. It really didn't seem as interesting as Nicky was making it out to be, but Kevin didn't want to say anything lest he was expected to participate in the conversation too.

They finally reached the butterfly exhibit where the other Foxes were waiting for them. They entered as a mass of loud, mildy buff, smelly athletes and got more than a few glares from the parents of young children who moved out of the way.

But in all this movement, the path cleared and Kevin found... Andrew and Neil? He was about to turn to Aaron and tell him that they evidently not making out, until he noticed how still Andrew was standing and the glee on Neil's face.

Nicky's gaze caught onto them a second later, because he squealed and grabbed Kevin's arm, jabbing his finger at the sight.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "Is that a butterfly on Andrew's nose? That is adorable."

Kevin squinted, and yes, that's exactly what it appeared to be. Nicky's outburst had caught Allison's attention, and she began marching over to Neil and Andrew, the rest of the Foxes in tow.

Kevin could already tell this was going to be a mess.

When they finally reached Andrew, Aaron was the first to speak. "What the fuck?" he asked flatly. Andrew glared at him. Slowly, as to not move the butterfly, he raised his hand to gently flip off his brother.

Nicky immediately started cooing. "Aww, don't worry Andrew! I think you look adorable."

Andrew began slipping out a knife.

On Allison's left, Kevin saw Dan practically shaking with laughter as she pulled out her camera and snapped a picture.

Neil opened his mouth, probably to tell off Dan but Nicky rushed in to talk to him.

"Soooo," he waggled his eyebrows. "I didn't know you could see the future, Neil."

Neil stared at him blankly and turned back to Andrew as he pulled out a map, but Nicky rallied on.

"Like, you must have been able to predict that one day Andrew was going to be this adorable. That's why you asked him out, right?"

"What?" Neil asked distractedly. "I never asked him out."

Kevin blinked in surprise. After a moment's consideration, he realized that considering how utterly oblivious Neil could be, it really was no shocker that Andrew had to ask him out first.

"Wait wait wait," Matt shook his head. "So Andrew asked you out?"

Neil waved them off as he continued squinting at the map he was holding. "Yes yes, just go ask Kevin, he was there."

All eyes turned to Kevin. Kevin was very lost.

"What the fuck," Aaron repeated. "I'm so confused."

"Me too," Kevin muttered. "Me too."

— ··· —

After their long day at the zoo was over, the Foxes finally began the trudge back up to their respective dorms. The younger Foxes dozed off immediately, but the older Foxes gathered in the girls' room to drop off the bags they had borrowed for the trip.

In all the commotion, no one really noticed Andrew and Neil leaving together. But right before they slipped out the door, Renee caught sight of them.

"Good night, you two!" she called. Neil turned around and gave her a tired wave, his body slumped on Andrew.

"Wait!" Nicky scrambled off the sofa. "Before I forget: Neil, how did Andrew ask you out?"

Neil blinked sleepily. "Well," he slurred. "He asked if he could blow me."

The room went silent.

Andrew heaved a sigh and dragged Neil out the door, leaving seven wide-eyed, very much awake athletes in their wake. Slowly, everyone turned to Kevin.

"You!" Allison weakly jabbed a finger in his direction. "You knew about this!"

Too late, Kevin realized what Neil's statement meant. Andrew had asked out Neil in front of Kevin. By offering sex. Nothing could have possibly ruined Kevin's night as much as this information had.

He met the Foxes' eyes slowly. Even Renee looked a bit surprised at Neil's admission, but she was clearly biting back a smile. "Trust me," Kevin groaned. "If I had known this had happened, I would have won myself so many bets."

"Damn," Nicky sighed. "I wish Erik and I had such an iconic story. Who knew the quiet, stabby cousin was such a horny gay bastard?"

"I," Aaron announced hotly. "have never wanted to forget a conversation more than this one."

"But Aaron. Andrew asked to blow him."

"Nicky, I swear— "

"OH MY GOD. They're probably having sex right now! Kevin, could you— "

Aaron put his head in his hands. "Please shut up now."

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

Text

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then'#so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes

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sauntering-down · 2 years

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hey guys back in September i reread the first six Warrior Cats books and today i reread all the spam i sent Mary y'all ready for this

tbh my One True Warrior Cats Headcanon is that Darkstripe absolutely wanted to bone Tigerstar

just gonna imagine THAT Ravenpaw does in fact wear glowsticks and is constantly hauling around a boombox so he and Barley can mosh

once we got to "cats with MAGIC POWERS" everything went downhill lol Firestar? no magic powers. big of heart, dumb of ass. gorgeous orange himbo. did a fantastic job.

"how can you be sure Barley will welcome me?" buddy you and Barley are going to have THE most loving and functional relationship in this entire neverending series

Thornclaw is one of those YA-novel immortals who dates teenagers even though he's centuries old and i, at age 32, think teenagers are fucking annoying children

me: looks up Thornclaw in the Warrior Cats wiki me: sees shit about 'codebreakers' and a fucking Brambleclaw imposter and closes the window immediately

CINDERPAW MY PRECIOUS CHILD and poor Brackenpaw, you're gonna be so neglected, dude.

Brackenfur is absolutely that neglected child who winds up super responsible at a young age and grows up well despite his upbringing

Bluestar: well you're doing a good job with Cinderpaw AND Brackenpaw so you might as well just Keep Doing That me: poor Brackenpaw

Fireheart, himbo: Tigerclaw LIED to lure BLUESTAR to the thunderpath and CINDERPAW WAS BADLY WOUNDED WHY WOULD HE DO THAT TO MY APPRENTICE Princess, has more than three braincells: wow that definitely doesn't sound like it was absolutely a trap for Bluestar

ah, poor Brackenpaw, passed around between temporary mentors like a hot potato...

Sandpaw: god dammit at least this kittypet dumpster fire is hot

Fireheart and Graystripe are getting into it! THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGG

Cloudkit rolling up to the ThunderClan camp like: i'm babey and i want power

lmao love how Fireheart's up on the rock like "let all cats old enough to FUCK IT GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE NOW WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM"

Oakheart: these are DEFINITELY some abandoned kits and not my children with a ThunderClan cat Graypool: that doesn't sound right but i don't know enough about ThunderClan to dispute it

i love how every description of Redtail is basically "snack-sized but absolutely will square up and kick anyone's ass"

AND THORNPAW THE LEGEND HIMSELF HAS ENTERED THE RING

whoops turns out Mistyfoot and Stonefur are filthy half-clan abominations!

Brackenpaw continues to be neglected if Graystripe could stop sliding into Silverstream's DMs for TWO MINUTES it'd be GREAT

everyone loves Cinderpaw and they're right to do so

Fireheart having a classic Orange Tabby Himbo moment - "oh wow, Stonefur and Mistyfoot look AMAZINGLY like Bluestar... IT'S SO TRAGIC CATS FROM DIFFERENT CLANS CAN RESEMBLE ONE ANOTHER AND YET MUST BE DIVIDED." but he redeems himself by actually bothering to train poor neglected Brackenpaw

Graystripe: oh yeah this dead cat is my secret RiverClan girlfriend and these are my lovechildren Tigerclaw: what the fuck for once having a reasonable reaction to Our Latest Bullshit

ahhhhh i missed Sandstorm's frigid bitch side SORRY GRAYSTRIPE YOU MADE SOME VERY BAD LIFE CHOICES

casual mention that Whitestorm and Willowpelt did the horizontal tango...

eyyyy Thornpaw Doin' A Rescue i love how Thornclaw has just become, like... an Immortal Legend (with an underage girlfriend)

Leopardfur... absolute #girlboss... bit of a bitch but we respect her craft...

i love [Bluestar] but she DOES completely Lose Her Gourd over the next two books...

Fireheart: man Tigerclaw's tiny baby son looks pretty sus

like damn, even Tigerstar wanted to be powerful and lead the Clans and shit... Ashfur's just a Nice Guy

Mousefur out-#girlbossing Leopardfur... iconic

Fireheart: BUT THAT ITTY-BITTY TIGERCLAW CLONE IS STILL SUPER SUS

Fireheart: TIGERCLAW JR IS STILL HAUNTING ME

YES FIREHEART YELLOWFANG MAY DIE BECAUSE YOU DECIDED TO SAVE TIGERSTAR'S HORRIBLE SON, A HELPLESS KITTEN. FOR FUCK'S SAKE

Tigerstar: SURPRISE BITCH I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME

Leopardfur's about to gaslight gatekeep girlboss her way into a Bad Alliance with Tigerstar ~caught in a bad romance~

good old Brackenfur... "he had the serious air of an older cat." that's probably all the neglect

ah, but at least Stonefur and Mistyfoot now get to learn they're filthy half-clan abominations!!

Fireheart: lame excuses for why Sandstorm shouldn't mentor Tawnykit Graystripe: dude as your BFF... you're an idiot... "this is why you haven't gotten laid yet, Fireheart."

Fireheart: THIS SMALL APPRENTICE IS STILL SUPER SUS

Fireheart is like. the equivalent of a grown man holding a gun on a kindergartner happily playing with some blocks Fireheart: this kitten is a POTENTIAL WAR CRIMINAL

Fireheart: hot damn Spottedleaf is still SMOKING meanwhile, Spottedleaf: PLEASE go bone down with Sandstorm, this is getting ridiculous

in my head Bluestar sounds like Cate Blanchett's Galadriel

every other time the poor guy tries to take a NAP his dreams just roll up like "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD"

also i love how One-eye is just... always there lol. she's ancient and grouchy but like hell is she gonna die anytime soon she has to stay until Thornpaw is a warrior. he's the Clan's new Immortal Legend; she's gotta make sure she passes on the mantle

anyway fuck Darkstripe, Thornclaw is now the Immortal Legend he was always meant to be

love how Tigerstar barges in, kills an apprentice, and threatens to do the same to everyone else if Tallstar doesn't join him, and Tallstar's just like "u havin a giggle there m8? i'll bash your fookin head in i sware on me mum"

welp, Tigerstar fucked around and found out! got sent to the Shadow Realm for his trouble

love how Barley vagues "oh, Scourge doesn't believe in StarClan" instead of outright SAYING "he doesn't have nine lives" because... that would've been helpful to know

THE END that was one heck of a journey lol but a fun one... those books got me through some tough times back in the day... thank you for riding the Warrior Cats Express

(bonus from my brief dive into the Warrior Cats section of ao3)

utterly REKT by the idea of Oakheart being like "well, i seduced Bluestar, might as well try it on her deputy too and see if i can complete the set." Bluestar, upon reaching StarClan: ah, i can finally see Oakheart again... we did have an illicit relationship, after all... Redtail: wait you too Bluestar: Redtail: Bluestar: Redtail:

#Warrior Cats #imo this is a pretty good summary of the series #nobody cares about this besides Mary and i but yolo

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years

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Runs In The Family, Part IV: The Hour

Rating: M Warnings: Catholic Guilt, Funerals, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, homophobic language Word Count: 3,396 Characters: Edward Nygma/The Riddler, Susan Nashton, Jonathan Crane, Harleen Quinzel Author's Note: Funerals suck. Starting a fight at a funeral- well, that certainly puts the fun in funeral. I've been to too many funerals in my life to know that there is never one that goes completely without a hitch. Eddie just happens to be that hitch.Here's where the warnings come in for: suicidal thoughts, past suicide attempts, FUNERAL, more religious guilt, and some homophobic language tossed in. On the plus side, two of Eddie's dear friends show up. I hope y'all enjoy this dumpster fire.

Now, and in the hour of our death.

October 5th: Sunday

Funerals were never fun. “Are ya sure ya have’ta go?” Jonathan asked. Edward could picture him so clearly, sitting at his desk, papers spread before him. “I mean, I’m sure everyone’d understand if ya didn’.”

“I’m not going for myself, Jonathan,” he sighs as he adjusts his tie, brow furrowing. He wasn’t a pallbearer. Which is good! He’d drop the casket and let Jackie be bared to the world. “I’m going for Susan, and then I’m coming home.”

“Alrigh’, Alrigh’.” Jon sighs; he’s worried, that much is obvious. “Jus’ wish I could be there with you.”

“I know,” a moment of silence passes before he speaks again, voice soft, “I wish you could be here, as well.” He did- he really did want him here. This wasn’t something Edward was comfortable with- that, and the damned suit was not what he liked to wear. Black was most certainly not his color. He could have been awful and worn his normal shamrock suit- but oh, he could hear the fit Susan would pitch if he’d gone through with that.

He did wear a royal purple tie and a shamrock pocket square, however.

“What time’s the service?”

A glance at the clock. “In the Church? Twenty minutes. All I have to do is walk across the street.” A snicker slips free at the irony of his hotel placement. “Though I’m afraid poor Father Smith has fallen ill.”

“What’d you do?” Jonathan’s voice drips with curiosity; he can picture him leaning forward, elbows settled on the arms of his chair, so perfectly in his mind. “Didja kill him?”

“Heavens, no!” Eddie laughs- loud and long, a touch too long, perhaps. Not exactly a lie. “No, no. I merely gave him some information I felt was long overdue.”

“So who’s gonna be in charge?”

“Me.”

“Bulllshit.”

“Alas, it is. No, Sister Mary Catherine will preside over the ceremony.” He grimaces at the thought. “She’s been there since I was a child. How she’s still kicking, I have no idea.”

“How sad,” a snicker crackles over the call. “I’ll let ya go so you can finish primpin’, pretty boy.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He cooed, though his gaze remained impassive as he took a step back, studying the suit. It had been tailored by his personal seamstress, so it fit him perfectly- just like a glove. “I’ll call you later.” Reaching over, he ended the call with a soft sigh. It would have been better had Jonathan, or even Harley been here for this. But that would bring far too much attention to the service, and he’d be damned if Jackie got more than what he deserved.

Which, in his opinion, is nothing more than a dog shitting on his grave.

Turning away from his reflection, he studied the hotel room; it was one of the best they had to offer in this shithole of a town, the king sized bed settled neatly in the center of the suite. The bathroom was clean, big; the bathtub had done wonders for his aching muscles the first night he’d been here. Rolling his shoulders and grimacing at the tension that had settled between them, he took hold of his phone and wallet. He promised Susan he’d at least be waiting outside for her. Drawing a slow breath through his nose, he held it for a beat before exhaling in a rush. “Right, then,” snatching up the hotel key and his car key, he swiftly left his room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

If Edward Ellias Nygma can’t sleep in beyond nine in the goddamn morning, then no one else on his floor can.

He skipped the elevator after a flood of children and a frazzled mother who paused when he shot her a wink and a smirk, and had to look away as if it could hide the blush that colored her cheeks as her kids ran down the hall, stepped out. The stairs were better; it was only three flights, and he hadn’t gone on a morning jog since he got here two days ago.

His knuckles popped as he flexed his fingers, echoing like gunshots in the stairwell. Exiting, he spared a glance towards the front desk and gave the morning girls a smile that had the blonde giggling and the brunette hiding her face behind a pamphlet-

For Gotham.

How ironic; even here, Gotham’s insidious grasp held strong.

Chuckling to himself, he stepped out into the crisp autumn air. That was one thing that Frenchtown had that Gotham didn’t- air that didn’t smell of car exhaust, cigarettes, or smog. His gaze drifted before catching sight of a mane of ginger. Susan had left her hair down this time. Jackie had always hated the color of her hair- and his own. They got their charming good looks from Pam- and their height from Jackie. He got his build from the sperm donor, too.

“Good morning,” Susan greeted softly, reaching out to place a hand on his forearm. “Almost didn’t think you’d show,” her laughter was weak.

“Almost didn’t,” Eddie grumbled as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go get this over with.”

“Father Smith isn’t leading the procession.”

“No? Did the old fart finally croak, too?”

“EDWARD- no. He came down with something. Jackson thinks it’s food poisoning. You know, he always did like his clams.”

“Disgusting,” seafood in general made his stomach turn. Nothing out of the waters near Jersey was good. The West Coast- when it wasn’t Oil Spill Season- had better choices. Or the South- oh, the South was perfect for seafood.

Perhaps he could convince Jonathan to take a road trip down to New Orleans. Hurricane season would be over in a month or so, after all.

“Momma’s inside already,” she clung to his arm, wobbling in her heels like a newborn deer. She never did like wearing them- Jackie tried to make her wear them, make her into some dumb housewife. It didn’t work- not completely. She had a good job now, working at the local hospital, coding new programs and inputting the codes needed for medications and whatnot. But she’s also married now. No kids- not yet. She was only twenty-eight. “You aren’t gonna sit with us, are you?”

It was the way she said it that had his gaze dropping down to meet hers. “I…” He hesitated for a moment before a sigh slipped free. “I suppose I will, just this once.”

Her eyes brightened for the first time since he’d been here. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Anything for you, Susu.” His gaze drifted, settling on the man who waited for them. Her husband; his name was Johnathan. The irony made him want to laugh. A good, hardworking man- he worked for the railroad system. Gone a lot, but he brought in a good amount of money for them.

Good, he thought to himself. She deserves someone who can treat her right. “Johnathan, it’s been a while,” Edward greets, holding a hand out as Susan releases his arm.

“Eddie, I’d say it’s good to see you, but…” He grimaced, shaking his head.

“Would have been better under different circumstances,” Eddie fills in with a bitter smile. “Shall we? I’d hate to keep the masses waiting.” (To say goodbye to a piece of shit man).

Johnathan led Susan in as Edward followed; he didn’t lower his head the way many others did. Oh, no, he met the angered gazes as they took him in. (That’s right, fuckers. Edward Nashton is home.) All the way to the front, he walked- no, sauntered, shoulders relaxed, a small smile on his lips. There was no grief to be found in his posture, which perhaps made those angered stares even angrier.

Good. Let them be angry. Anything but grief for the body that laid in a mahogany casket, makeup on his face to take that grey parlor to a more rosy tone; cotton in his mouth to make his cheeks look full and not sunken in, the dark shadows that had clung to him the last time Eddie had seen him swept away with color correction.

A shame.

Quite honestly, he paid absolutely no attention to anything Sister Mary said- droning on and on about the woes of life and how Jackie boy had been a good husband (utter lie; he swears he saw Miss Kenneth roll her eyes), how he’d been a good son (even more of a lie- he’d never met Jackie’s parents, even though they had been alive up until eight years ago). Lies, lies, and more lies. How humorous- that the very religion that preached against the sin of lying was built upon lies, and now Jackson Nicholas Nashton would be lowered six feet under in a casket that would rot in a few years and fill with bodily fluids and rainwater and insects surrounded by lies.

It sped by, but perhaps that was because he’d focused not on the words or the people around him, but rather, on the way no one was crying- well, not no one. Susan shed a few tears; Pam was sobbing because her darling husband bit the dust and will become worm food. But outside of the family, very few seemed to weep openly. There were more dry eyes than wet- how peculiar. Seems like old Jackie wasn’t as dearly beloved as he liked to think. Then again, being a raging alcoholic with a ninth grade education level and known for hitting on women twenty years younger than yourself doesn’t make for a stellar reputation.

Serves him right.

Before he realized it, they were rising to say their final goodbyes before driving ten minutes outside of town in a funeral procession to the graveyard for the burial. He tracked Pam as she walked up, her arms wrapping around herself as she played up the mourning widow role, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief (was that Jackie’s bandana? How disgusting). She stood in front of the casket for a moment, then another, and oh no, whispers were beginning. Her shoulders jerked as she sobbed, and-

“MY JACKIE! OH, MY JACKIE!” She shrieked, her voice shrill and harsh on the ear. Uncle Joe quickly came forward, wrapping his big arm around her shoulders as he tried to pull her back- but oh, ouch! She slapped him across the face. “DON’T TAKE ME FROM MY JACKIE.”

“Eddie,” Susan whispered, her eyes wide as she couldn’t tear her gaze away. “We need to-”

“We?”

“Edward.”

“Fine- c’mon,” he led Susan up, grimacing at the sight of Jackie in the casket. Disgusting old man. He turns away, instead bracing his arm across Pam’s collar to pull her back and away. She crumbled into his arms, sobbing against his suit. He willed himself to look sympathetic, but he was no professional actor. “Pam, get up,” he whispered, watching as she stiffened in his arms. “We need to go-”

“You.” She whispered, pulling back from his hold. “You are NOT our son!”

“Pamela,” Joe murmured, reaching over, only to have his hand slapped away.

“You’re right, I’m not.” Edward agreed, shrugging his shoulders. “But I’m not here for you. I’m here for Susan, and Susan is still your daughter, and you are making a right mess of yourself right now in front of your family and friends, Pamela.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a hiss. “Get your fucking act together before I let everyone know the funeral is over and to go home. Your five minutes of fame are quickly ticking away. Choose wisely.”

There it is. Her jaw squares, and she turns away to walk with Uncle Joe. Drawing in a slow breath, Edward walks out behind them- meeting the gazes of those who openly gawk. Pieces were being put together; good for them, finally having something to talk about. Susan sniffled behind him; Jonathan whispered something to soothe her.

His blood rushed in his ears as he crossed the parking lot, jogged across the road, and quickly got into his car. A deep breath- breathe, Eddie, breathe. Just keep your calm for another hour, and then you can say fuck this town and all the people in it! His fingers attempted to tap out Moonlight Sonata- but the tempo was wrong, and then that was a sour note, and he slammed his palm against the top of the steering wheel and FUCKER that HURT.

As if on cue, his phone begins to ring, and Harley’s icon pops up. She specifically chose the picture- an awful one of him, but she looks fabulous. One of the rare times she wasn’t wearing her jester paint. “Harleen, you have impeccable timing.”

“Hiya, Eddie! Jonnie told me you’s at a funeral- and well, when I asked him who, he didn’ wanna tell me! So I did a bit of diggin’ and saw-”

“It’s for the man who raised me, Harley.” His gaze settles on the church as the masses mosey out, taking their time. He should be there with them, watching them load up the casket into the hearse. “For Jackson.”

“How’s you holdin’ up?” Her voice is soft, sweet- genuinely worried. Not the wild Harley Quinn of Gotham, but Doctor Harleen Quinzel. “I know you’ve got issues with him and your momma-”

“I’m fine, dear,” he lied, watching as Johnathan settled Susan into their car. “Peachy keen, one could say.”

“No offense, Eddie, but you’re a really bad liar when you’re upset.” Harley sighs, shifting. He can’t hear Ivy in the background; she must be home alone right now. “Is it over?”

“Not yet. We’ve still got the graveside service.” He presses onto the brake of the car and presses his index finger against the ignition button. The car rumbles to life. “Fuckin’ graveside service. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Silence greets him for a moment. “Do you wanna talk about it while you drive? I assume you’s gettin’ in the funeral procession line now, since you started your car.”

“You’re too observant,” he chuckles, already feeling the anger beginning to seep away at the sound of her voice. Harley had always been a soft spot for him- and always will be, if he were being honest. “Did you know that officially seven years ago, I “died”? They made up a whole story about my death- no one in this town believed them.” With a flip of a finger, the car’s flashers were on as he joined in behind Susan’s car. Pam was riding with them. Joe pulled out behind him. “Went from ‘Our son, Edward? Oh, no, he moved to Boston.,’ to ‘Our son, Edward? Oh, he passed away in a car accident.”

“That’s awful of them t’say.” She sighs, and he can picture her pout so clearly. “You gonna come back home when it’s over?”

“I plan on it. I don’t want to stick around longer than I have to.” He rolls down the passenger side window to let in some cool air. “... You remember when I told you I’ve never been suicidal?”

“I do.” She’s careful with her answer. “Are you currently-”

“Gods, no!” Laughter burst from him- loud, long, unhinged. “No, no. But I was- when I first came to Gotham. My first year there was awful- I was seventeen and alone. I tried.”

“You attempted?”

“Only once. Then, halfway through, I grabbed the liquid charcoal I had under my sink and chugged it. Made myself sick for fucking days.”

“Eddie…”

“Jon doesn’t know.” The admittance is enough to sober him up. His palms feel cold. “I never told him. He doesn’t-”

“And you don’t have’ta tell him.” Harleen quickly interjects. The graveyard slowly comes into view as the tree line breaks. “That’s okay!”

“Harles, I’m gonna call you back later, alright?”

“Okay, Eddie. I’m here if ya need me!”

“Of course.” He ends the call before turning into the graveyard’s parking lot- one hand on the gear shift, the other on the wheel. Manual- why he preferred them, he couldn’t say.

Parked, windows rolled up, he climbed out- drawing in a nice, deep breath of graveyard dirt, decayed flowers, and chilled air. He doesn’t walk forward- he stands close to his car, watching as his relatives and close friends of the family stare at him, gawking openly. “Surprise,” he calls softly, a smirk curling his lips as he raises a hand to give a half wave, “I’m not dead.”

“Edward,” Susan hisses, watching him. “Aren’t you going to come?”

The urge to say no, to not go forward is almost overwhelming. “Coming,” he speaks from behind gritted teeth. Hand slipping into his pockets, he trudges through the damp morning grass to the open pit- six feet and some inches deep. No marker, no headstone- not yet, at least. He doesn’t stand at the front- he lingers near the back. Susan doesn’t argue.

Dissociation occurs as Sister Mary speaks once more, reading Jackie’s last rights and a few different passages, and then talks on his life once more. That is, until someone reaches over and grabs hold of his arm. “I beg your pardon,” he hisses, jerking his arm free.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Oh, Uncle Vernon- Jackie’s younger brother. “You of all people.”

“And yet,” he leans in, a sense of pride swelling up as Vernon shrinks beneath him. “Here I am.”

“Some fuckin’ balls you got,” Vernon slurrs. Oh, he’s drunk. His eyes are bloodshot, and the smell of a cheap whiskey permeates every pore.

“Real rich, coming from a pervert with a drinking problem. Tell me, one sinner to another- why’d you show up drunk?” Edward grins as Vernon recoils further. “You have no room to-”

It happens before he realizes what hit him- or who. Vernon swings, and despite being inebriated, he lands a solid hit against his cheek, splitting the skin and knocking his glasses askew. Someone- or maybe more than one person- screams. “You’s the perverted one!” Vernon yells, getting closer. “You’s the faggot!”

“Says the one who was caught with that eighteen year old in the men’s restroom, balls deep! Tell me, Oh Holy One- am I truly the sinner, or are you just worried about what your wife will think when she realizes that her husband is a closeted queer?” Oh, it’s delicious- the way his eyes widen, and how everyone around them grows silent. “That’s right. I know. I graduated with that kid. We’re the same age, you know? That makes him barely legal when you took him- and oh, from what I hear, you didn’t take long!”

“Edward!” Susan yells- but her face is a mixture of horror and amusement, as if she’s horrified that she finds this amusing.

The next punch is caught in his palm, purple leather creaking. “Ah, ah, ah- now that’s no way to act at a funeral.” Vernon tries to take his fist back, and Eddie lets him at the last moment, causing him to stumble backwards-

And almost fall into the pit, if Joe hadn’t caught him. “You FREAK,” Vernon yells, but the damage was done.

“Not a freak, Vernon. Just not afraid- not of you, not of dear old Jackie, not of this town.” His gaze settles on Susan- and for a moment, she smiles. “Jackie had some words for me when I visited him last year in the hospital- I won’t repeat the vulgarities, but let me make myself clear-

If any of you decide to turn coat and begin tormenting my dearest sister, I promise you, this town will turn into Gotham overnight and there will be seventeen new plots in this graveyard. I’ll make the funeral business in this county boom again.” A wink is given at Pam, who clutches at her rosary as if it could protect her, before Edward turns on his heel and walks away. He can hear their voices growing in volume quickly. Someone asks if that was a legitimate threat, if they should call the police. Let them, he thinks to himself. His suitcase was already packed, he checked out of the hotel under the bastardized mixture of Quinzel and Harvey.

He wastes no time in peeling out of the cemetery’s parking lot as loudly as possible, tires squealing as he pulls out, gravel flying. No traffic, luckily- no, there wouldn’t be, not here. Not in this small town in the middle of the morning.

The middle of the fucking morning on a Sunday.

Fucking Catholics.

#m's scribbles #batman #the riddler #edward nygma #edward nashton #dc fanfic #dc comics #batman rogues #tw: funeral #tw: past suicide attempt #tw: homophobic slurs #jonathan crane #harley quinn #scriddler

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃

"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"

I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.

Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.

Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.

Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.

I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.

Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."

"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.

"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.

Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"

"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.

"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.

"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."

Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.

He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.

My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.

I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.

I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.

"Halloween?" Steve groaned.

"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.

"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.

"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.

"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."

"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.

"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."

"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.

"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.

"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.

"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."

"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."

"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.

"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.

"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."

My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.

Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.

"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.

I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.

The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.

We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.

"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.

"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."

The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.

I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.

Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.

"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.

"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#stephen strange x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #stephen strange x you #bruce banner x you #tony stark x you #stephen strange x reader #bruce banner x reader #tony stark x reader #party favours #bun writes #avengers social media au

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woodchoc-magnum · 3 years

Text

Lone Star 2x11 Hate Watch

I nearly forgot about it this week, whoops

Disclaimer: Don’t read this if you like the show, simply go about your business and have a great day

oh no owen is being arrested oh nooo

is it for being a crime to this show

is he going to hit on Dr Jacobs now?

"is there a complication?" tk asks in a monotone

Oh no he's off work for a month? What will the other firefighters do at an emergency if rob lowe is not there to do it all for them?

"it's like two fortnights?" yeah… that's exactly what it is dude

A fortnight is two weeks

So two of them is… a month.

Captain Judd!

Yessss captain judd

No masks

Not a single mask on anyone

"the Serena Williams of firefighters?" fucking seriously

What if she was on camera like that and then they lose this car? She's gonna look like an asshole

Yo 100% the husband dies I'm calling it now

He's definitely dying

I FUCKING CALLED IT

Yo that's HUBRIS

That's why you don't brag to the cameras y'all

Damn that poor bastard what a way to go

This reminds me of when Bobby was under investigation in season 2 of the OG and they all kept coming around to his house and annoying the shit out of him while he was trying to plan his wedding

BILLY? BILLY BURKE?

BILLY BURKE!!!!!!!!

Yo he was in this show called Revolution that I watched because a) Billy Burke and b) Elizabeth Mitchell and I fuck I shipped him with Liz Mitch SO HARD

It's weird to me that everyone thinks of him as the dad from Twilight because I have legit seen him in everything but that

What happened to his lightning strike scars? That was my favourite part of Season 1

So I'm calling it early and saying that Billy Burke is the arsonist because why else would they bring him back, and he doesn't like Rob Lowe

Oh the gays are hosting a dinner party

You know what shits me? Lone Star has these scenes of the team playing board games and in the OG we waste a whole episode about Josh and Sue – yes I'm still dirty but they can make it up to me with this week’s episode

I suppose in Lone Star they're all single? And young? I really shouldn't complain, I don't want the OG to be more like Lone Star let's face it

Yeah she's going viral for acting like a moron in front of the cameras at the scene, that's why you don't do that fucking shit

Look I like Marjan but come on

Interesting choice of Rolling Stones song

Wow this Rob Lowe montage is so great

Am I the only one who thinks Airpods look dumb

God this Rob Lowe montage has been going for hours

Wow he's potting a plant, and painting, and putting a puzzle together, this is so fucking interesting, thank god they've dedicated this portion of the episode to it. How else would I know what Rob Lowe was doing while he was stuck at home by himself?

The chick who works at the juice bar is a better actor than Ronen

Oh no this looks like the work of the arsonist (Billy Burke)

Thank god Rob Lowe was there right

YOU'RE NOT THE CAPTAIN RIGHT NOW

God what a fuckhead

"126! Give 'em hell!" ugh what a douchebag

How am I only 23 minutes in

I feel like I've been watching for ten hours

Yeah how did you arrive five minutes before everyone huh? I feel like that app he's been listening to is probably illegal

Owen is doing nothing to help his case here

This guy 100% thinks Owen did it and you know what I think he's onto something and I think they should arrest Owen and put him in jail

Also I'm going to say that rob lowe dyes his hair and has had some cosmetic surgery just saying

Honestly I don't have a whole lot of sympathy for Marjan here

It’s just kind of in bad taste for a firefighter to be bragging about how awesome they are. I know social media is her whole deal but… it's pretty uncool

Is it just me or is Judd looking extra handsome in this episode?

Oh great and now we're at a nice dinner and they're talking about Rob fucking Lowe again? WHO CARES

THE ROB LOWE PLOTLIONES ARE ALWAYS THE WORST FUCKING PLOTLINES

He even looks like a creep in that grey hoodie

Oh my god he's been off work for a fucking week? Like I don't get this?

I would love to have a week off work to just stay in my house and be chill

He's talking to Billy Burke about the arson and Billy Burke is in fact the arsonist

Yo doesn't Carlos' house burn down at some point? DOES BILLY BURKE BURN DOWN CARLOS' HOUSE?

I really love Billy Burke and I'm glad they brought him back to play the bad guy; he was the bad guy in The Closer and it was great

He's explaining all this to Billy Burke, who in fact already knows this, because in fact he is IN FACT the arsonist

Also the fact that Rob Lowe has gone out and bought all this stuff just makes him look guiltier

I ship it though, Billy & Owen? Ship name Billwen or Owlly – no we're definitely going with Owlly

Stage 3 cancer, lost his job, got struck by lightning, didn't get the captaincy at the 126 – the man has nothing left to lose. He's the arsonist

Marjan IS a showboat and most of the time it's fine but before a rescue it does exhibit a lot of hubris and that's not a good thing

And that video didn't make her look great

And she needs to go to McKenna and apologise for being a dick

GO AND APOLOGISE

Fucking APOLOGISE

YES YOU SHOULD

Oh good she listened to me

Paul's a babe just saying

She posted a suicide note and no friends or family went to help her? That's pretty fucking depressing

Jesus this is a bit graphic

Wow this is very graphic

"This was clutch" COME ON FUCKING REALLY?

Oh yeah it's so fucking cool being a badass

Ugh this show is so stupid

How does this still have three minutes to go?

"Oh my god I FORGOT THE LIMES" it is the END OF THE WORLD

Why is he in his goddamn fucking arson hoodie again?

He is without a doubt the dumbest mother fucker who has ever dumbed in the history of BEING DUMB

I mean say what you want about Bobby jumping into a dumpster but I have to think that Bobby Nash would know better than to act like a suspicious fucking SUSPECT IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ARSON INVESTIGATION WHEN THEY ALREADY SUSPECT YOU OF BEING THE ARSONIST, OWEN!

You dumbfuck

0/10 shittiest episode ever, everyone except Judd, Grace and Tommy are stupid

AND OH MY GOD TK WE FORGOT THE LIMESSSSS OH MY GOD END OF THE WORLLLLDDDD

three miserable fucking episodes to go

Diaz to cleanse:

#lone star hate watch #this show keeps getting woooooorse

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Note

How would the boys react to their s/o teasing them to the point of them snapping? X)

Oh you thirsty, thirsty fang babies. Do y'all realize my most liked and shared post is the Soundtrack Sex post? Alright you little hungry bats, only cuz I love y'all. Keep in mind since I've done a few like this before, I'm going to be diving more into each guy's individual kink. I think all of them are into some form of bdsm but to varying degrees. They're sadistic killers after all, so they'll crave that same control over their s/o. Again with each vamp having his own preferences. Get ready because this gets pretty graphic. Y'all better appreciate this, it took me two and a half frickin' days!

The Lost Boys Get Pushed to the Brink by Fem!S/O

18+ CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, BDSM, Potential Triggers, Offensive Language! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

David

David knows all too well what you're doing. You must think you're quite clever. The way you sway your hips when you walk across the boardwalk, dropping your purse "accidentally" and bend over to get it, pressing your breasts tightly against him for even the most casual hug. Don't think just because you're in public he won't fuck you here. David has no patience whatsoever. What he wants he'll have. You're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are when you press your butt against his crotch, leaning back so your lips are just brushing against his neck sending tender little breaths across his chilled flesh. He'll run his hands over any exposed skin you have, and just below your ear he'll coolly growl little threats.

"If you continue to tease me, little doll, I am going to fuck you until you shatter."

The words will send chills down your spine and light a fire inside you. That's not a warning, that's a challenge. When it's finally too much he'll tear you away to the nearest dark corner and rip your panties off. Just look what you did to him, the way he throbs until his erection is aching to break free. You will remember who is in charge when he hoists you right on top of throbbing his cock, balancing you with ease on his hips. He doesn't even have to hold you up, and instead uses his other hand to choke the pretty little words from that naughty mouth. Cautious not to strangle, he’ll tightly press his thumb right over the prominent vein in your neck savoring the rush of blood just beneath the skin.The gruff moans he huff out make your eyes roll back with delight. David loves the way your flesh clings to him, but you better not make a sound. If you even so much as whimper he halts his motions, leaving your body starved. No one is allowed to hear your moans but him. David doesn’t share in any way. Afterwards don't even bother asking for your panties back when you two sneak out of that secretive corner. He'll stuff then in his pocket with the most villainous grin you have ever seen.

"Consider it punishment for being such a wicked little minx, love."

Now if you're in the hotel you're not gonna get very far teasing him. He'll raise a brow, just barely looking up from his book to see you in that skin tight dress, it doesn't take him long to realize you are without a bra. If you don't come to him when called, he'll go to you. You haven't even seen speed until you deny your lover his precious doll. In a flash you're swept into his arms, thrown atop a bed laying flat on your stomach. With a slow touch, David will lift your chin from behind and lean himself against you. You shouldn't have run, shouldn’t have hid your perfect body from him. When you're alone he drags it out so much more.

Leather clad fingers will tease your lips, pushing ever so slightly but denying you the sweet release you so desperately yearn. He's such a cruel one taunting you, massaging your tender breasts just whispering into your ear. Naughty girl, are you wet already? He's just barely started. With a flick of the wrist he snaps his belt from his pants, dragging the cool leather piece over your exposed cheeks. The sting across flesh makes you moan, and again he sends a strike. David’s low chuckle is addicting. He takes a moment to admire your quivering form, tempted to leave you begging for more. That's what he wants more than anything. David desperately craves your wanton voice crying for him to defile you. He’ll just sit back, watching you lay in place. Don’t move, he’ll tell you. Instead he’ll order you to play with yourself. Show him how badly you yearn for his touch. The power fuels him, looking at your glossy eyes while your finger yourself, whimpering his name softly. When you close your eyes it breaks contact, and again he crashes the leather into skin. Never hide from him. The sensation is enough to entice a moan from you, the muscles squeezing your fingers spasming in delight. So, you wanted more. He’d chuckle again. You’re such a silly thing. All you had to do was say so. Slow strips of red surface over your ass with every erotic whip. He’s cautious to etch the border between pain and pleasure, never crossing the threshold. It’s give and take. He sees the way it sends you into a tizzy, which in turn only excites him more. Cum drips down your thighs, but he’s not ready to let you finish. Slowly David will peel away his gloves, taunting you with his precious touch. Clothes are shed to the floor in a mass of black. Lifting himself on his knees he runs a hand down your back. He taunts your soaked pussy with the belt still tightly grasped in his hands. Just look at the mess you’re making. When he pauses, hinting at his next strike you beg again.

“Please, what? Tell me what you want!"

“I wa.. want you.. to hi...hit me again..”

“Hit you..? Where? I don’t even think you said please, you greedy girl.”

“P-Please! M-master please! Hit my pussy! I-I can’t take it, please"

The hit stings, but it sends a bizarre pleasure through you. They mix in a sickly concoction. A heat of fire that causes your lips to pulse, and when he hits it again your eyes spin backward into black. He takes your wrists slowly and pins them behind, leaning over your body with his erection just barely grazing you.

“You did this to yourself, baby doll. I warned you what would happen, didn’t I?”

The wrought leather strap constricts your arms, binding them to each other while you lay face down on your knees. He’s left you completely exposed to him, ass eagerly in the air. Soaked sheets caught beneath your knees, any orgasm he had led you too was quickly denied, leaving you crashing back at the bottom just to be built up again. You're so wrapped up in the pleasure of it all, you don't realize when he commands you to scream his name; he's actually begging. Say his name. He has to hear it, he needs to hear your voice cradle his name perfectly on those luscious lips.

When you give him what he commands he finally takes you. With a hand pinning you down by the back of your neck he'll ram himself so deep you fear you may break. The twisted slaps of flesh crashing against each other is nothing compared to the crying whines that echo these endless halls. Everything is spinning, your walls are torn away leaving you to spiral into madness. Every thrust presses you further beneath. You are at his mercy, and there will be none tonight. Each orgasm you had been denied came flooding back in wild waves, spilling out onto the mattress below. His name practically burns your tongue, there is no other word you worship so endlessly. This creature of the night had you under his thumb. Tonight he had more than your love, more than your body. He was taking your soul into his hands and locking it away. Time is lost to the world. There is no before or after. Now just went on forever. Surroundings blur into wild smears of color. There is nothing beside the bed you two laid upon. His moans are a godsend, they caress your ears. Velvet, silky, David is all you know. It's a tirade of sweat and leather, stained in his cum. You can't even breathe as he fills you in floods, it's just this trembling simper. Not a drop is wasted inside your precious womb. When all is said and done, and you are a cum drenched mess David is, for once, genuinely tired after such heavy petting. Do not fear, lovely. He would never leave you to wallow in filth after he had battered you so. Its almost fluid the way he wraps you beneath fresh blankets, pressed to his panting chest. There would be no rhythm to soothe your body, rather his hypnotic touch bringing you back to Earth. With a cigarette already lit clutched between his teeth he'll coax you into taking a slow drag. You savor the bitter, ashen taste that burns your mouth. The plume of smoke leaves a veil of fog around you two, laying together while he softly praises you. His frustration was long gone giving way to his tender kisses trailing across your rosey cheeks utterly flushed

"You were such a good girl, baby doll. You did wonderfully my little kitten, I couldn’t ask for a more precious gem. Rest, you deserve it. I’ll be here when you awake."

Dwayne

Dwayne is a closet pervert. He's a lot more modest than the other guys, which is ironic considering his attire, or rather the lack of it. But it's true, he's not the type to fuck in the back of a McDonald's by the dumpster just because you went a day without undies. When you show up to the boardwalk in a low cut top he'll aggressively clear his throat with the reddest face you've ever seen. Flustered is an understatement. He'll suddenly comment how cold it is tonight and immediately sling his jacket over your shoulders. So what if he's shirtless? He doesn't get cold.

It's extremely hard for him to resist you when you're running your hands over his chest,sliding your wrapping your arms around him just playfully running your fingers through his hair. It aches, he can feel his zipper about to burst. That leopard print strapless dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, including your bare breasts left braless just beneath the fabric, it's just perfect under his leather jacket. He’ll swallow dryly. When no one looks he feels your mischievous touch trails down over his caged erection eager to taunt his libido. One wouldn’t assume Dwayne could get so pent up, but when he’s pushed to the brink all bets are off.

You never expected to awaken a panther inside him once you two were alone. Those chocolate eyes were predatorial, wild, and that's when he takes you in his arms. A single kiss is enough to knock you off your feet. It’s melted heaven dripped onto your tongue. He draws breath from you, slowly peeling off his jacket. Your skin is so soft beneath torn, calloused fingertips caressing those trembling bumps spreading through your body. Chills, utter chills. You can’t help but rock your hips against him. Wandering lower he cups your butt until you’re tightly pressed again him, pausing those kisses. His words are soft, a sweet wine that gives you eternal life.

“Tonight, your soul is mine”

The way his voice rumbled deep in your core pushes you forward, hungry for more. But his cruelty surfaces. There will be no wild, tearing sex. He wants to drag it out. Making love can’t compare to those moments when he lays you on your back just to worship your sprawled figure. The deep, dark cave is barely illuminated by the wild flicker of candles wedged inside discarded wine bottles, the warm slips of light dipping over every curve in your body. You look like a goddess to him, and tonight you’d meet your god. Kisses trail up your silky legs, the way he shifts over you is like a tiger ready to pounce. Eyes eat you alive. His teeth drag, leaving tender little love bites. It’s an agony of anticipation swelling you. With a firm grip Dwayne tears your dress from your very body. Those same calloused fingers that taunted your skin now trailed over the dips and folds of your thighs tracing over your pelvic bone. A cascade of black hair veiled his face when he leaned in. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel hungry, labored breaths taunting your exposed womanhood. You draw in a sharp breath when his tongue slowly drags from the base all the way up and over your clit. The sensation envelopes you in waves. Slowly, aching, toe-curling licks prod at you, one after another. You wish he’d speed up, but he has you exactly where he wants you. Begging for more, utterly helpless to his will- just like you did to him. Fire wells in your lungs as you’re only able to writhe beneath him. Resistance was pointless, that iron grip kept your hips perfectly in place. He teases at your clit with wicked flicks, tracing around your most tender place. Grasps of his hair are clutched between your fingers, but it only excites him more. Dwayne will grant you mercy, slipping his tongue inside to lap up your sweet juices.

It’s impossible to truly describe the ecstasy he sends you into, Your legs hook over his shoulders just grinding your hips into his masterful grasp. Shuddering moans reverberate in empty halls, waves serenading just beyond. That edge is so nearby, dragging you by your ankles until your back arches upward. Karma is a cruel mistress indeed. Dwayne’s tongue slithers out leaving a trail of slippery fluids behind. If you try to move he’ll climb over your body, his hands pinning your arms above your head looking in your eyes. Again that monstrous tongue taunts you. Twirling over your perked breasts. With his other hand he prods at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you. The sheer intimacy of it all is utterly ethereal. When you hear his hungry grunt just under your breath just feel another pull at your abdomen. It’s just too much, you need him. More than ever before. “Dwayne,” you whimper, thighs trembling under him. “P-Please… I..”

“Say it, princess…”

“I need you… D-Dwayne I… I need you”

You’re dwarfed beneath his body, lifted beneath your butt with his hips pressed into your lower half. Something burning pushed itself tightly in. You were barely able to accommodate his size even with how much he had spread you before. Each thrust pushed your body back further into the mattress, firm hands keeping you crushed against his heaving chest. You wrapped a leg over his wait using the base of your heel to push him further inside. Dwayne pushed against your womb desperately trying to pace himself. When he pulled back a slick suction coaxed him back inside, contracting muscles clinging to his veined member. You feel a dull ache in your back all the way up to your shoulders that tightens when he digs himself deeper. His lips caress yours, tongues eagerly tasting one another until you lock lips. He begins to moan louder. It’s a deep, almost bear-like growl. There’s a rapid pace to his thrusts now. They become erratic bucks, moans lost in each other’s mouths until you feel that familiar throb inside. It’s a burn that practically melts you. You feel more fluids squishing out, your nails dragging up his back tearing into skin until his hips stall. It’s a perfect moment, Dwayne lifting his head letting you gaze into his dark eyes carrying a flickering flame. You’re veiled beneath his hair, unable to hold back your glowing smile. When he pulls out to lay on his back you nestle in his arm up against his chest, listening to his shuddering breaths. There’s not much that can be said after that, you’re so worn out that you can barely keep your eyes open and simply savor his company until exhaustion lulls you into a heavy sleep in the arms of your lover. You definitely had to start teasing him more often if this is what you got.

Paul

That boy will chase your butt even if you weren’t teasing him. But catch him off guard, and he’ll make you regret ever getting him that pent up. You knew exactly what was up when you showed up in that busty shirt giving him a mouth watering view of your glorious tits, a teenie little miniskirt clinging to your figure, those hot fishnets under a pair of biker boots, immediately he already tries to swoop you into his arms- except you beat him to the punch. Your breasts press tightly against him, hands wrapping around his waist while you go in for the kill. Oh when you kiss his neck it makes him melt. Fine if you wanted to play, he’d play. And he’ll win. When you think it’s safe he’ll sneak up behind you to get a good handful of your ass, burying his mouth up against your neck growling into you. That’s when you start grinding it up against his pants and you’re really not surprised that he’s already hard. In a quick slip he catches his hands under your skirt.

Oh this just keeps getting better. You filthy kitty cat. He’s had enough, he pulls you to the alleyway in a mess of hot kisses. There’s barely time to react, his tongue slithering in to taste every inch of your mouth. There’s hardly a struggle when he tears a big enough hole in your fishnets for him to get access to your glorious pussy. There's the echo of vulgar clapping barely kept under by the hustle and bustle just only feet away. Paul isn't about to cover your mouth. You don't get the luxury, he wants to fuck you until the whole state of California knows you live for his cock. You shouldn't have pushed him, because now he's determined to make your head spin. The rough concrete walls scratch up against your shoulders, your front completely crushed against his heaving chest growling out snarls and heavy moans. Don't even try to beg for mercy, he'll just laugh. The whole time he's hissing into your ear.

"No more? That's not what your little pussy is tellin' me. God you're so fuckin' cute when you're screamin' my name kitten. Louder, fuckin' louder! I want everyone to know who you belong to!"

If it's not an alleyway he'll happily go into one of the larger ferris wheel kiosks. Yeah he knows you can be seen, barely kept hidden beneath a sheet of metal and a few choice windows. You don't have much choice, pulled into a straddle over his lap as soon as you get on. You're not even ten feet in the air when his fingers start to tease you.

"God you really do get a kick outta makin' me crazy don't you? You're already soaked."

Surprise, Paul had a bit of experience shredding a few tasty licks on a guitar not too long ago. Why did that matter? Because once those appendages slithered in, you almost immediately let out one of the loudest moans of your life. The way they pushed past his knuckles, swirling around, curving up hitting the sweetest spots even you hadn't touched before. It's impossible not to tightly cling to him. While you're utterly incapacitated he'll tear down your shirt and twist your pink nipple between his thumb and point finger. He'll tease you, suggesting maybe you oughta get them pierced. If you try to pull away he'll glance up towards the other kiosks just barely out of sight and smirk pulling you back into place. After all, we wouldn't want everyone else seeing how dirty you were. Everytime your body adjusted to the size he'd slip in another finger. Those muscles just sucked him in so perfectly, your sweet juices drenching his hand as he dug further inward. The moment you whine you're going to come is when the fun really begins. Paul's not just going to give it to you. Oh no, not yet. After all, you teased him, made his poor dick ache until it almost broke his zipper. It was his turn to tease you. You could hear his belt clink against itself and his fly slowly drag down. His cock practically whipped against your pulsating entrance once released, but rather than ram it right up inside where it belonged, he'd grab you by your chin and boast the most cruel, wild smile you'd seen. Stuffing himself inside, he halts watching your head immediately knock back at the sheer rush of pleasure that sent your back muscles into a spasm. With little effort he bounced you atop his lap. But you've still got a lot to make up for. Even while he penetrates you he's shoving his fingers inside as well until you're completely full, wiggling his tongue across your tits. The sensation makes your mouth hang open. There's no moans left. Just guttural whimpers barely able to make it through until you are left panting for air. You can't even keep your eyes open, it's too much to take. When you're on the brink of climax he'll halt again, burrowing his throbbing cock so deep you swear it's about to break your womb. The torture is unimaginable, he's just firmly wedged in place sending spasming pulsations that spread from the inside out. He fought the urge to ravage you. His revenge was just too cruel to give up now. WHen your hips tried to shift he planted them firmly against his naked pelvis. “Don’t fuckin’ move, or I’ll pull out.” The tight ache of your stomach just grew and grew but there was no relief! You beg wildly for him not to stop, tears edging the corners of your eyes. Do it more. Scream his name!

Everything inside burns white hot, gushes of sticky wet juices squirting onto his lap and the seat beneath you. For a moment you could feel your soul trying to fly away. After all you just experienced nirvana, fucking Valhalla on steroids. It's easily a good five minutes before you can even speak instead of just moaning out slurred vowels. When you do come to, you immediately slug him in the shoulder. Jeeze! You were teasing him, he was just flat out torturing you! "Well next time don't fucking tease me, my dick was just dying for you, kitten!" After you've got feeling back in your legs he'll release the ferris wheel attendant and take you out for a sweet treat, probably ice cream. Oh yeah! He almost forgot. You watch as he fishes out a pair of your panties, a souvenir from your many sex exploits. Don't get him wrong, he'd rather you be commando, but you were still oozing out cum. Besides, he wasn't patient but he could wait an hour to tear into you again. W-wait? An hour? Again??

Marko

The moment you stepped foot on the boardwalk he knew something was up. Since when did you own a skirt that short? You practically jumped into his arms when you spotted him, a chill running over his flesh. Your bra was missing, perked nipples rubbing into his chest just beneath the tight fabric of your shirt hugging your breasts perfectly. Now he’s not nearly as ballsy as Paul or David, he can’t just fuck you in the alley. Well, he could, but the situation called for drastic measures. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of riling him up. Rather, he has to plan this out just right. Revenge is a dish best served cold- WHICH ISN'T EASY WHEN YOU'RE OVERHEATING HIM!

God, it aches! Half the time he doesn’t leave any sort of counter or object he can lean on to hide away his pressing member begging to be unleashed. Plans would have to be dragged out, apparently this naughty girl wanted a whole date to torture him with. At the arcade he nearly lost his damn mind when you bent over to fish out your quarters from the machine. Yooooouuu vicious kitten, this was torture! When he stuffs his hands in his pockets he finally finds your panties, snuck in there while you had been hugging him. While you tore it up at the pinball machine he’d lean on you from behind. From any outside point of view it was just a boyfriend hugging his girl from behind. What couldn’t see was Marko’s hips grinding into your tender body barely kept safe under that tiny cut of fabric. When he whispered, he’d warn you what’s going to happen if you keep all this behavior up. Do you want him to go crazy, you wicked kitten?

“Careful what you’re doing, baby girl,” he’ll hiss in your ears, his fingers just barely brushing across the edge of your skirt. “When I get you alone… you’re mine.” At first it seems like a bluff. However you didn’t often send him into a fuss quite like this. Any teasing was at the hotel, little kisses and bites. Never was he denied for so long leaving him clinging to you. Every grasp craves you, but no matter how he snarls wicked begging into your ear you torture him further, even slipping from his arms when he least expects it. Tender kisses could never reach the passion you taunted him with. The loss of touch leaves him cold and yearning for more. At his brink, Marko practically tears you by your waist into his arms, jagged blue eyes cutting past your mischief. He’s taking you home. Now.

The entire ride across wind blown dunes and crashing shores he never releases you. Even as you rapidly step over debris scattered around the hotel’s entrance he cuffs his fingers around your slender wrist. Tonight you’ve made a very grave error denying him. For hours. Hours! Hours of watching you saunter about with nothing beneath, egging him on until he was ready to break. Now, it was his turn to punish you for your wicked ways. Marko had always been a tender lover, his dominant behavior kept cautiously under wraps. After all, he was afraid to frighten you off. No longer. With a firm flick of his wrist he practically throws you on the bed, pinning you in place by your neck. The force from the fall alone nearly knocked the air from you. There was an eerie silence for a moment, a dark tension emanating off of your boyfriend. His breathing would be sharp and trembling just barely keeping himself composed.

Honestly the urge to smirk is just too hard to pass up. Marko loved to tease you, rubbing up against your butt, nibbling on your neck when no ones looking, yet throw you in some tight clothes where he can't have you and suddenly it's unfair. His kisses ravage your mouth. There's little room to breathe. Wet appendages spiral in desperate taste for more. It physically hurt you to feel him pull away, leaning forward trying to keep the kiss going.

"Uh uh," he taunted, fangs poking through his smile, pushing you onto your back again. "You were too cruel, baby girl. Now I get to have my way."

Using the panties you had previously crammed into his pocket he tightly tied your wrists together until the fabric began to dig into your flesh. Slowly he trails his claws over your clothing, tearing through it in one painstaking cut leaving your body utterly exposed to him. The cold night air dances around you, any movement halted as if invisible strings held you in place. Hungry gazes froze your blood. Flicking his thumb nail just over your pelvis, Marko savored the tiny hiss you unleash. Little beads of ruby decorate you with an enticing aroma. Pulling himself between your bare legs he took a slow, deep inhale of that hypnotic ambrosia. His tongue dragged over your wound sending a thin sting up your thigh. While his tongue tore at bloodied flesh his gloved fingers traced just over the flesh above your clit. The anticipation alone made your toes curl. Time slipped through your fingertips tips like sand through the hourglass. Every painful minute he edged closer to you, and when that cold touch reached your aching mound it swept away your thoughts in one foul swoop. How he managed to leave you so weak from a simple touch was beyond comprehension. You tried to squirm when he pet at your entrance with a single finger, but he immediately hooked his arm around one leg while using his knee to pin down the other. "You're not getting out of this," Marko hisses, pressing his nail into the wound until a trickle of crimson fluid spilled over into the crevice between your thigh and pelvis. He tempted it further, smearing layers of color across your womanhood watching it stain.

Already drips of clear, slippery fluids drenched his fingers, just barely pushing in to feel your muscles tighten. Any contact swallowed them. If you were a good girl and held still he'd push further, tempting a third finger. Now come on, he knew you could do better than that. In went a fourth, spreading you open watching with amusement as all your juices spill down onto the mattress beneath you. He laps up the sweet taste, sucking it off his fingers and leaving you still aching from more. Just look at you, so eager for him to be inside you. Marko throws his shirt and pants to the floor. You can see his pulsing shaft pressing up against the fabric of his underwear. Firmly he pulled you up by your bound hands, teasing your bottom lip with his thumb. He’d rub his fingers against your tongue, the soft appendage wrapping excitedly over his knuckles. With his freshy wet hand he'd pinch your nipples, waiting for the inevitable whimper that gave him an opening to ram his own tongue back inside your mouth. A vulgar string of saliva barely kept your mouths connected when he pulled away, holding up your chin with his pointer finger. "I think you need more than just a little tease, don't you?"

When you nod he weaves his fingers beneath your hair and grasp it towards the scalp, bending your head back. Fangs brush on your neck, tugging at tight skin easily broken. Laying with his back against the headboard he yanked you over to him, pulling you down so you were balancing on your knees and forearms.

"Suck it." The command was so firm, you almost thought you misheard him. No, you wanted it so bad? Fine. Now you got it. Open up, or he'd leave you drenched, trembling, on the edge of orgasm. With wrists still restricted you pulled away his boxer unleashing his wild erection that eagerly pressed against your mouth. Marko will sit like a king in his throne with fingers woven through your hair. He makes sure it's all out of the way and in his grasp, watching your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft leaving slippery trails of saliva in its wake. His hips will begin to buck on their own with his tip grinding into your tongue. There’s a small push at the base of your skull, coaxing you further down. “There you go baby, get as much as you can fit in there, suck it nice and good.” You can feel his muscles tense under your grasp but you don't stop, continuing your relentless barrage until he snaps. All that pent up ache will flood your mouth in one foul swoop. It's hot, sticky, sweet and before you dared to open your mouth he pinched your nose. You better not waste a fucking drop. When he’s felt you’ve learned your lesson he gently pulled you on top of him, teasing your aching lips, swelled, pulsing, begging for release with the burning tip of his cock. You were such a good girl, taking all of him in like that, think you can do it again?

Leaning back with you on top where he can watch you, he rocks his hips back and forth with such force it bounces your breasts, his conniving whispers commanding you to never look away. His icey blue orbs lock with your own. Utterly hypnotic. Sloshing squelches of liquids were churned around inside you. It pushed further with muscles tightly contracting around him. Your body is coated in a tender mist of perspiration, whimpers and whines creating a symphony of erotica that leaves you feeling a well of humiliation. There’s nowhere to hide from Marko’s prying eyes, he’s watching every curve, ever fold, every perverted expression contort your beautiful face and he lives for every moment. Your hips move on their own, grinding your clit against his pelvis while his veined shaft spirals around inside you. Vision fades in and out, all you can do is feel fire running through your veins. He felt so cold inside yet it burned. As you edge towards climax Marko lifts himself up and hooks your bound arms over his neck. Your raw nipples rub up on his bare chest, burying your face into his neck where a mass of messy curls cradle you. The intoxicating scent of your body sends him into a frenzy, grasping your ass assisting you in slamming down harder and harder until that deep, overwhelming tension bursts like a flooded dam. A rush of liquids squirt out, feeling him stretch out your insides. It fills you, and rather than pull out he holds you in place. The sensation of you pulsating causes his hips to buck until he slams into your womb with a final spray of cum painting your lower abdomen. Barely able to pull himself out he releases your raw wrists, stealing a hot kiss from your quivering lips. You just look so cute painted in his cum. Maybe next time you’d think twice about taunting him. Now that your punishment has finished, he crashes onto his back with you on top. Even he had to catch his breath. There is no guilt, but that doesn’t mean he won’t praise the hell out of you for being such an angel. He’ll practically hum when you play with his hair while he rubs your back, peppering kisses all over your head and cheeks.

“I’m… sorry for teasing you,” You whimper out, nestled in the crook of his neck. His chuckle makes his chest spasm, lithe fingers tracing shapes over your shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry baby girl, you did amazing. Maybe next time I’ll try to be gentle, hm?”

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jord-w-bush · 3 years

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Turn Off the Dark: Chapter 3

Hey y'all! Here's Chapter 3 of Turn of the Dark! I promise that Josie and Peter aren't going to be at odds much longer. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Josie readjusted her grip on the cake pan in her arms and opened the front door to her parent’s home. She could hear her father and brothers shouting at some game on the TV in the living room, and the faint sound of pots and pans being moved around from the kitchen.

“Hey! I’m here!” She called out to whoever was listening. The clamor in the house dulled for a moment, and she heard her mom call her into the kitchen.

She slipped off her shoes and headed toward the back of the house. As she passed the living room, she poked her head in and smiled at her dad and two brothers. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw the back of Peter Parker’s head sitting on the floor in front of the TV. He had never responded to her text, which she really hadn’t expected him to, so she was more than surprised to see him sat among her family. Before she had a chance to turn her gaze away, he turned around and made eye contact with her. He gave her a half-hearted smile and wave, before turning back to face forward.

Her younger brother Greyson jumped up from the couch and threw his arms around her. Even though he was two and a half years younger than her, he stood almost a foot taller than her at six feet four inches tall. He had gotten his height from his father. In fact, all three of the Butler boys were taller than six feet. Greyson just happened to be the tallest. Josie grinned at her brother and pinched his cheek-which she knew he hated.

“Hi, bubby! How’s everything out west?” Her brother rolled his eyes at his childhood nickname and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s fine, I guess. Not nearly as exciting as here. But I mean, we knew that” He replied. Greyson was in his first year at Arizona State University on a basketball scholarship studying forensic science. Before he passed, Greyson had looked up to Captain Stacy, Gwen’s father and the chief of police in New York City. He inspired Greyson to pursue a degree in investigation. He was back in town visiting his family over his spring break. They missed him, but Josie knew that he was on the right path.

“I’m glad you don’t hate it, though. That would make me big sad for my little bro.” Josie ruffled his hair and he swatted her hand away. They playfully shoved each other for a bit before Josie’s mother called her name from the back of the house.

Shaking her head, Josie continued her journey to the kitchen. “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you had gotten lost on the way from the front door!” Her mother exclaimed pulling her into a hug. Josie smiled widely. Josie and her mother had always been incredibly close, even when she had been younger. She strove to always make her mom proud, and become an incredible woman like her.

“I brought a chocolate cake! I had some extra time on my hands today, so the frosting is homemade too!” Josie glanced proudly at the dish in her hands before placing it on the empty counter. She then turned her attention to the other woman occupying the kitchen and rushed over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s so good to see you, Aunt May! I’m sorry I didn’t stop by the last time I was over, I ended up getting caught up with my mom and had to rush to the show!”

May Parker pulled away from Josie slightly, and held the young girl’s face in her hands, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about now, dear. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve probably watched your performance on Good Morning America one hundred times by now. I am so proud of you!”

Josie smiled and followed her mom and Aunt May over to the kitchen table. Her mother poured her a glass of water and the three women began to catch up on their lives and enjoy each other’s company.

“Josie, I would love to come out and see your show soon! Any idea how much longer it’s going to run?” Aunt May eventually asked, turning to her surrogate niece with a smile.

“I’m not sure! We haven’t heard anything about it closing any time soon, so I hope we’re open for the foreseeable future. Do you want tickets? I’d be happy to get you one.” Josie replied. She hadn’t wanted to pressure the Parker matriarch into coming out to Manhattan alone to see her show, since she assumed Peter had little to no interest in coming out to support her as well.

“Of course! Peter and I would be happy to cheer you on! If your TV appearance was any indication, this is a show we won’t want to miss!” Aunt May smiled proudly at Josie, and Mrs. Butler chimed in.

“It really is something so special, May! Josephine truly is spectacular in this role. I’m sure you will absolutely love it!” Josie smiled at both women. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer going off, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. Josie felt her heart rate increase slightly, because she knew that once dinner was on the table she’d have to sit awkwardly in the same place with Peter. And she hated feeling awkward. Marian called to the men in the living room that it was time to eat, while May and Josie set the table.

The Butler men and Peter filed into the dining room and sat at their respective seats at the table. Ever since they had moved to New York, when they’d have the Parkers over for dinner, everyone sat in the same place every time. Sam at the head of the table with his wife to his right and his oldest son to his left. Josie always sat next to her mother, with her youngest brother beside her. Peter sat across from Josie next to his Aunt, and when he was alive, Ben Parker sat at the opposite head of the table furthest from Sam. Sam led the group in a quick blessing over the food, and then everyone dug in.

“Sweetheart, this pasta is so so good! Is this a new recipe?” Sam asked his wife. Marian nodded her head, and then there was silence again as people enjoyed their meals and allowed it time to digest. Eventually, May cleared her throat and turned to her nephew.

“Peter, honey, Josie offered to get us tickets to her show! Isn’t that so sweet of her?” Peter nodded slightly.

“Yeah, that’s uh, that’s great Aunt May.” He said without making eye contact with her.

Josie had a feeling that only one of those tickets would end up being used, but she held out hope that maybe she would be wrong.

Once everyone had finished eating their dinner, Marian served the cake Josie had brought over. She had only taken one bite before her father blurted out:

“So, did you guys hear Spider-Man saved Josie the other night?” She choked on the cake she had in her mouth, and everyone but her mother’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Josie looked down in embarrassment.

“Really?? Cool!” Tyler said. He was always excited to hear about Spider-Man. “What happened?” he asked.

She cleared her throat and set down her fork. She retold the story of her recent mugging attempt, and noticed Peter shift uncomfortably at the mention of Spider-Man’s heroics.

“Something wrong, Pete?” she asked him.

He shook his head quickly, “No. No. Just, ya know, I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty wild. You know what’s funny, in the moment, I couldn’t think of anything else but how scared I was. But later? All I could think about was how great of a picture it would have been. Him up on that dumpster with the light from the street lamps on him. The pictures you take of him are always super impressive, Peter. I feel like you could really make some major money with those. Probably more than the Bugle pays you.” Josie laughed slightly at her father’s expense. He chuckled back and looked at Peter.

Peter mumbled a quiet thanks, which she wouldn’t have even caught if she hadn’t been looking at him. Josie scoffed lightly, and hummed softly, “Yeah no problem.” She stabbed at her slice of cake on her plate and shoved a bite into her mouth.

Everyone at the table awkwardly looked between the two “ex-best friends”, unsure of how to move on with the conversation. The silence only lasted a few seconds longer before Josie stood up suddenly.

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry Aunt May. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow morning after he leaves for the day to talk with you about the tickets. I need some air.” She glared at Peter, before pushing her chair back in and stomping toward the back yard. She grabbed a blanket from the shelf beside the door before slamming the door shut behind her, and plopping down into the porch swing.

May looked at Peter with a disapproving gaze, before standing up and offering to help Marian with the dishes. Peter also stood up quickly and without a word, marched out the front door and to his own house. The two women looked at each other.

“I’m so sorry about this Marian. I don’t know what’s gotten into him today. I knew that they hadn’t spoken in a while but I wasn’t aware that they were…angry with each other.” May excused herself apologetically and followed her nephew out the door.

After the door had closed behind her, the tense energy between the pair still hung in the air.

“What the heck just happened?” Sam asked to no one in particular.

Marian threw down the dishtowel that was hanging on her shoulder to the counter with determination. “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I’m sure as hell about to find out.”

#the amazing spiderman #andrew garfield #peter parker #fanficiton #peter parker x oc #oc #marvel #spider man #spiderman #tasm #amazing spider man

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bourbon-ontherocks · 4 years

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(Previously, on good girls rewatch...)

So who wants some thoughts about episode 9???

Why. Is. Annie. Pooping. In. The. Dark. ?

I can't believe there's a Rio scene that I literally forgot existed???? AND it's the one and only time Ruby is the one pushing for crime??? What is wrong with me?

Yay!!! Demon's officially with us!!!

Can somebody explain to me the Mr. Cisco joke??? To this day I still don't get it, there must be an American reference I don't have... Please?

"A few pesticides never hurt anybody, did they? No, they didn't!" 1) This is humanity's main problem sumed up in one sentence 2) I LOVE MARY PAT SO FUCKING MUCH!!!!!

And I still don't get why Annie gives in to Mary Pat's blackmailing, like, the girls literally don't have any counterfeit bill at home, so...

Annie rolling her eyes and making praying mantis allusions at Dean's woodwork attempt to win Beth back is priceless.

Oh, I just remembered something. Wasn't Dean supposed to be jealous of Rio and making all kinds of assumptions about him and Beth having an affair like 5 episodes ago?? So what, now that Beth told him about the gang business he's suddenly so okay with it that he even built Beth some cash-hiding furniture???

Stan and Ruby being baked together is literally one of the best moments in this dumpster fire of a show...

WHY??? IS??? ANNIE?? POOPING?? IN?? THE??? DARK???

Tyler fiercely reading a bodybuilding magazine with an open bag of cheetos in front of him is an underrated moment

MARY PAT HAS INSTAGRAM????? God, now I want to see this account so much...

I love Beth's sweater in the pill-percentage talk!!!!

Sure, sure, three identical dusty trucks taking over each other on the highway is not suspicious AT ALL...

Again, Mary Pat is literally telling a total stranger about her dead husband. Whose pension she still perceives. Good, good...

So.... Let me get this straight. Rio pulled on an empty truck test to see if it would be pulled over because of Eddie, and the said vehicle had no license plate?? So it would be pulled over no matter what?? Like, is it me or this show doesn't make any sense AT ALL????

THIS IS THE FIRST TIME RIO SAYS ELIZABETH Y'ALL!!!!!!!

"He just looked at me funny." Let's just take a minute to absorb this wonderful summary of Beth and Rio's interactions FROM THE START. Idiots!

I, too, when I've had a few, start filling a calendar with glitter and coloured stickers like a maniac... Beth is a lunatic

"It doesn't matter what we've done, we're the good guys. He's the criminal here." Uuuuh... No. What you've done literally defines you as the good or the bad guy, Bethie. This might be the very moment when she starts becoming annoying, you guys...

This is FASCINATING. While we're in the episode that established Demon's existence, Carlos Aviles is now back to being "Tatted Guy #1", so I guess that his Henchman phase was just some eccentricity?? (did we even see him in this episode??? I doubled checked but I don't think so. This show is complete bananas...)

(This dude in the background is the only occurence I saw of an unidentified guy in Rio's surroundings but I think that we can all agree that he looks nothing like Carlos Aviles. Also please admire Rio's mouth in this, this is what happens when lower lip wins against gravity. I personally laughed for three minutes.)

#gg rewatch #summer of the sharks #I think I'm a little overinvested in Mick's naming journey but this is absolutely nonsensical #I have so many questions #also I didn't mention it but Boomer is acting completely nuts in this ep too #and his flirt with Mary Pat is absolutely creepy #well she's a weirdo too so....#also I loved Beth's make-up in this ep #they gave her some femme fatale vibes #which she IS #literally #anyway this lipstick and shadowy eyes was gorgeous #and I'll never say it enough #GIVE US BACK ANNIE'S GLITTER!!!!!

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omnifalls-10 · 3 years

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Omni Falls Chapter 4: The Lil Psycho

It's a peaceful weekend at the Mystery Shack. As Grunkle Stan swindles tips from the tourists outside, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos sit at the table, discussing Dipper's mysterious watch and how he found it as the young Pine drinks a soda while his sister knits a sweater.

"So you found that watch in a mysterious ball?", Soos summarizes. "And after that you fought a giant gnome monster by turning a rock alien?"

"Diamond alien.", Dipper corrects.

"So does this mean you morph into aliens now?", Soos questions.

"It seems so.", Dipper replies.

"Cool dude. So what aliens can you turn into?". Soos probes, curious on what aliens he can morph as.

"So far he's morphed into the diamond alien, the red one that can shoot water, the speedy one, and the plant that can shoot fire but smells like a dumpster.", Mabel tallies off as she continues to knit herself a new sweater.

Dipper rubs his chin in thought. "Hm. But there could be potentially more than that."

Soos looks amazed by this. "Dude, that sounds awesome! Did you ever name any of them?"

"I only named Diamondhead, the crystal alien, Water Hazard, the water alien, and Swampfire, the plant one,", Dipper answers as he heads to the trash bin to throw away the soda can.

"Why Swampfire?", Soos asks.

"'Cause he smells like a flaming dumpster, when he transforms.", Mabel answers to which Dipper nods in agreement.

"Hm. Did you come up with a name for the speed alien?", Soos inquiers.

"Why, yes, Soos.", Dipper puffs his chest, priding himself on a cool name. "Blitz." Such a cool name, he thinks. Unfortunately, Mabel and Soos don't agree with this.

"Boooooooo!", Mabel and Soos jeers.

"What? You guys got anything better?", Dipper scoffs as he sits at the table, reading the Journal.

"Oh, I got one.", Mabel answers, dropping her sweater she's knitting to flail her arms dramatically. "Speedy!".

"That sounds like a cartoon character.", Dipper clarifies.

"Speedster?", Soos tries a name.

"That sounds even more bland than Blitz."

"Quicksilver!"

"The name's taken. Plus the alien is more blue and black than silver."

"Flash?"

"Taken."

"Zoom Zoom?"

"That sounds like a jingle for a commercial."

Mabel stops and thinks for a moment before she gets an idea, smiling. "How about XLR8?!"

"Awesome name, little dude.", Soos is impressed as he holds his hand out for Mabel to high five. Dipper just shrugs, he honestly doesn't mind because it would be nice to make names for the aliens that he would turn into. It would help for him to have an alias to turn towards in case someone would know about the aliens he would have.

But the chances of that happening are slim to none. As they start conversing on other random topics, the TV transitions into a commercial Soos recognizes.

"Hey, look. It's that commercial I was telling you guys about.", Soos points to the screen showing an actor crying.

"Are you completely miserable?", the announcer asks, to which the actor says "YES!". The announcer continues, "Then you need to meet..." before a lady's voice comes in with a silhouette in the background. "Gideon."

"Gideon?", Dipper asks, looking at the screen, curiously.

"What makes him so special?", Mabel inquires, wanting to know more about this mysterious figure.

"He's a psychic.", the announcer answers, intriguing the Pine Twins even more. "So don't waste your time with another so-called 'man of mystery'." The screen shows a clip of Stan coming out of an outhouse and is stamped with the word "FRAUD". "Learn about tomorrow tonight at Gideon's Tent of Telepathy."

"Wow, I'm getting all curiousy inside...", Mabel admits.

"Well, don't get too curiousy.", Stan answers with an annoyed expression on his face as he enters the room and flips up his eyepatch and hangs his suit jacket on his racket. "Ever since that monster Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothin' but trouble."

"But, is he really psychic?", Dipper asks his grunkle.

"I think we should go and find out.", Mabel suggests, wanting to see this psychic for herself.

"Never! You're forbidden from patronizing the competition!", Grunkle Stan exclaims in anger. "No one that lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof!" That said, the conman walks away to count his earnings, grumbling.

"Do tents have roofs?", Dipper wonders out loud since Stan left the room.

"I think we just found our loophole... literally!", Mabel proudly declares as she holds a string with a loophole, making her, Dipper, and Soos laugh at the cheesy joke, causing them to miss the announcer's words in the end.

"So come down soon, folks. Gideon is expecting you."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As the evening air is crisp as Dipper, Mabel, and Soos arrive at the Tent of Telepathy. At first glance, it looks like the Mystery Shack but in reverse, even down to Bud Gleeful standing at the entrance with a sack for customers to put money in.

"Whoa, this is like a bizarro version of the Mystery Shack.", Dipper admits as he looks around. "They even have their own Soos." He points to a maintenance worker who looks very similar to Soos, named Deuce, to which he glares at him.

"Sshh!", Mabel shushes her brother. "It's starting!"

"Let's see what this monster looks like.", Dipper murmurs skeptically. The crowd is holding their breath as a large silhouette comes forward on the stage, but starts to shrink with each step until it is in the center. The curtains pull back to reveal a short child younger than the Pines donning a large pompadour and wearing a baby blue business suit, complete with large shoulder pads, a jade bolo tie, and a flashy cape.

"Hello America!", the Gideon greets the audience, his smile being warm. "My name is Li'l Gideon." He claps and doves fly out of his hair, causing the crowd to cheer.

"That's Stan's mortal enemy?", Dipper asks, confused by how this child could be the rival to their grunkle.

"But he's so wittle.", Mabel adds, smiling at how cute the little guy is.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is such a gift to have you here tonight!", Gideon announces to the crowd. "Such a gift. I have a vision. I predict that you will soon all say, 'aww.'" Gideon makes a cute pose and the crowd immediately gushes.

"It came true.", Mabel speaks in awe, holding her cheeks in admiration.

"What?", Dipper rolls his eyes. "I'm not impressed."

"You're impressed!", Mabel teases.

"Hit it, Dad!" Gideon calls his father, Bud Gleeful. He starts playing the piano and the young psychic starts dancing as he sings."Oh, I can see what others can't see. It ain't some sideshow trick, it's innate ability. Where others are blind, I am futurely inclined. And you too could see, if you was widdle ol' me!"

"Come on, everybody, rise up! I want y'all to keep it going!" Gideon calls out to the crowd. They, including Soos and the twins, rise, seemingly unintentionally, and they start to clap along with the beat. This confuses Dipper as this happens.

"Wha—? How did he—?", Dipper stammers in bewilderment as he looks at the young psychic.

"Keep it going!", Gideon calls to the audience before pointing to an elderly woman in the crowd. "You wish your son would call you more."

"I'm leaving everything to my cats!", the old woman yells, with her cat on her lap affirming her.

"I sense that you've been here before.", Gideon predicts as he points at Sheriff Blubs, who is wearing a shirt with Gideon's face on it and holding various other Li'l Gideon merchandise.

"Oh, what gave it away?", he gushes.

"Come on.", Dipper scoffs at this psychic's pitiful predictions. In an instant, Gideon appears beside the Pine Twins, continuing his song. "I'll read your mind if I'm able."

"Something tells me you're named Mabel", Gideon predicts before heading back to the stage.

"How'd he do that?", Mabel asks herself in amazement, she isn't even wearing her name on her sweater.

"So welcome all ye... to the Tent of Telepathy. And thanks for visiting... widdle ol' me!", Gideon finishes his dance as the song ends. The crowd cheers wildly as the young psychic catches his breath.

"Thank you! You people are the real miracles!", Gideon thanks the crowd as he drinks a bottle of water. The crowd leaves, very pleased with the performance that occurred in the Tent of Telepathy. Except for the cynical Dipper.

"Woo! Yeah!", Mabel cheers in excitement. "That was amazing!"

"No wonder our uncle's jealous." Dipper smirks, knowing that despite being fraudulent about being a psychic, Gideon is at least more entertaining than Stan. "That kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan!"

"Oh, come on.", Mabel encourages. "His dance moves were adorable! And did you see his hair? It was like, whoosh!"

"You're too easily impressed.", Dipper remarks, knowing that it doesn't take much to make his sister go starry-eyed.

"Yeah, yeah!", Mabel laughs, giving Dipper a playful shove as he starts laughing with her. What they don't know is that they are a pair of eyes watching them leave in intrigue and obsession.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the quiet morning, Dipper browses through the journal psychic related. He remembers what Gideon did to the audience by raising up unanimously like they were under his command, even Dipper himself, who never intended to get up. He wants to know if there is something that could do what the young psychic did to the audience because Dipper doesn't believe that Gideon is inherently psychic, mind you, but he's aware that he's able to control individuals somehow. So far he's found nothing.

His focus is deterred by his bubbly sister. "Check it out, Dipper! I successfully bedazzled my face!", Mabel exclaims as she blinks some of the sequins from her eyelids. "Ow."

"Um...Is that permanent?", Dipper asks, not sure how he's supposed to react to something like this.

"I'm unappreciated in my time…", She laments, disappointed that her brother can't appreciate her artistic ability. The doorbell rings.

"Somebody answer that door!", Grunkle Stan yells from upstairs.

"I'll get it!", Mabel answers as she wipes the sequins off her face as she heads to the door. She opens it up and finds a bashful Gideon on the other side.

"Howdy.", the young psychic warmly greets her.

"It's 'wittle ol' you!", Mabel gasps in surprise.

"Yeah, my song's quite catchy.", He laughs nervously before he gets to the point, rubbing his arm. "Now, I know we haven't formally met, but after yesterday's performance, I just couldn't get your laugh out of my head."

"You mean this one?", the bubbly Pine asks before doing her signature laugh, much to Gideon's delight.

"Oh, what a delight!", Gideon smiles brightly. "Now, when I saw you in the audience, I said to myself, 'Now there's a kindred spirit! Someone who appreciates the sparkly things in life.'"

"That's totally me!", Mabel laughs before coughing up some sequins that land on Gideon's suit, bedazzling it. This amazes the young psychic.

"Enchanting.", Gideon whsipers. "Utterly enchanting."

"Who's at the door?!", Grunkle yells from inside.

"No one, Grunkle Stan!", Mabel yells back in response.

"I appreciate your discretion." Gideon thanks. "Stan's no fan of mine. I don't know how a lemon so sour could be related to a peach so sweet."

"Aww, you're just saying that.", Mabel giggles at the compliment.

"Oh, I mean it with all sincerity.", Gideon ensures her. "Now, what do you say we step away from here, and chat a bit more. Perhaps in my dressing room?"

"Oh! Makeovers!" Mabel exclaims in delight. "Yahoo!" She pokes Gideon in his stomach a little too hard.

Gideon laughs before holding his gut in pain, mumbling "...Ow."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mabel returns to the Mystery Shack with her makeover: her hair is curled and held in place an absurd amount of hairspray, overmanucured nails, and excessive amount of makeup. She sees her brother at the same chair from earlier, deeply engrossed into his journal. "Hey Dipper. What's goin' oooon?", she asks as she dangles manicured fingernails over Dipper's head.

He looks up from the journal to see her fingernails and slaps them away in surprise. "Whoa, where have you been? And what's going on with those fingernails, you look like a wolverine." He really doesn't like this much makeup on his sister. It's making her look even more bizarre than the sequins she had on her face.

"I know, right?", she answers, playfully growling and scratching the air. "I was hanging out with my new pal, Gideon. He is one dapper little man."

Dipper sighs. "Mabel, I wouldn't trust anyone whose hair is bigger than their head."

"Oh, leave him alone!", Mabel defends her new pal. "You never want to do girly stuff with me! You and Soos get to do boy stuff all the time." Anything girly she wanted to do, Dipper would opt out and do boy stuff with Soos. Gideon's a breath of fresh air to share the same interests she has.

"What do you mean?", Dipper asks, only for Soos to come in the room, excited.

"Hey dude, you ready to blow up these hot dogs in the microwave one by one?!", the handyman asks, holding the hot dog pack in his face.

"Am I!", Dipper answers, equally excited as they run into the kitchen to pop the dogs in the microwave, laughing. Mabel sighs, rolling her eyes as Dipper proves her point.

The next day arrives and Gideon takes Mabel to the roof of his factory. They are able to see the whole town of Gravity Falls.

"Whoa, the view from your family's factory is nuts!", Mabel exclaims at the view from up top. "Good thing we both bought our….."

"Opera glasses!", she and Gideon cheer, bringing them before pointing them at each other, laughing.

"Mabel, when I'm up here lookin' down on all those little ol' people, I feel like I'm king of all I survey." Gideon explains, whispering the last part ominously. He turns to her, smiling. "I guess that makes you my queen!"

"You are being so nice to me right now, quit it!" Mabel laughs, smacks him in the stomach, playfully.

"I can't quit it. I am speaking from the heart." Gideon admits, holding his heart.

"From the where-now?". Mabel is confused by where the young psychic is going.

"Mabel, I've never felt this close with anyone. So, so close." Gideon explains, stroking his crush's hair, giggling.

"Look Gideon, um…", Mabel tries to explain as she pushes his hand away, uncomfortable. "I like you a lot, but let's just be friends."

"At least just give me a chance." Gideon insists. "Mabel, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

"A play date?", Mabel helplessly asks.

"Uh-uh."

"A shopping date?"

"Nope. It'll just be one li'l ol' date, I swear on my lucky bolo tie." Gideon swears, holding his bolo tie. Mabel looks at the smitten psychic’s green eye, uncertain. She knows that Gideon means well and it would be cruel of her to leave him up on his offer. After all, he promises for one date and he seems to be a man of his word.

"Ummm. Okay, then... I guess…", Mabel answers, still feeling weary about it internally.

"Mabel Pines, you have made me the happiest boy in the world!", Gideon laughs, giving her a big hug. She doesn't feel fully comfortable with it until she realizes something.

"Are you sniffing my hair?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It's not a date-date, it's just, you know, I didn't want to hurt his feelings and so I figured I'd throw him a bone.", she explains her dating situation as she and her brother play some video games in the living room.

"Mabel, guys don't work that way.", Dipper refutes, his focus never faltering from the game. "You give them an inch, they'll take a mile. At some point, he's gonna fall in love with you."

"Yeah right. I'm not that lovable.", she scoffs, before executing Dipper in the game, cheering in victory. "Yes!"

"Okay, we agree on something here." he grouses and drops the controller. The doorbell rings outside, causing Mabel to stand up and get it.

"I'll go get it", Mabel goes to answer the door, only for a white stallion horse to burst through, neighing. This causes her to scream in surprise and take a few steps back. She looks up from the horse to see Gideon donning cowboy attire, extending her hand out towards her.

"A night of enchantment awaits, m'lady!", he says.

"Oh boy.", she mumbles, to herself. After the horse ride towards their destination, an aquatic themed restaurant which is one of the expensive and finest restaurants in Gravity Falls, they're able to get their own private booth. Even Gideon's stallion is allowed in as it drinks from the fountain.

"I can't believe they let us bring a horse in here.", Mabel says awkwardly. Honestly, the extravagance of this place is not something she's used to being in. Even the menu options when she first checked looked very expensive, even though Gideon said he would pay for it.

"Well, people have a hard time saying no to me.", Gideon winks at her, putting his feet up on the table. As he does this, a waiter arrives to refill their glasses with crystal water, smiling.

"Ah, Monsieur Gideon! Ze feet on ze table! An excellent choice!", the waiter compliments.

"Jean Luc, what did we discuss about eye contact?", Gideon asks, not even glancing at the garcon, frowning.

"Yes, yes, very good.", the waiter adheres, walking back and keeping his eyes away from the young psychic.

Mabel actually looks down at her plate to see various forks, "I've never seen so many forks.", she mentions in amazement. "And water with bubbles in it? Ooh lala, oui, oui."

"Oh! Parlez vous francais?", Gideon asks her.

"...I have no idea what you're saying.", She admits. This makes the young psychic chuckle as their orders arrive, a live lobster for Mabel and a steak with mash potatoes for Gideon.

"I gotta say Mabel", Gideon speaks. "I've been to this restaurant many times but tonight, it feels very special."

"Yeah…", she says as spokes at the lobster on her plate which it pinches her fork in return.

"And tomorrow's date promises to top this one in every way!", Gideon promises.

This causes her to jolt up in realization at what he just said. "Whoa whoa, you said just one date, and this was it."

"Hark! What a surprise!", Gideon says, seemingly ignoring what Mabel is saying. "A red crested South American rainbow macaw!" As he said that, a giant macaw lands on Gideon's forearm. He silently counts to three before the macaw talks.

"MABEL! WILL YOU- ACCOMPANY- GIDEON- TO- THE BALLROOM DANCE- THIS THURBDAY-", Gideon shakes the bird briefly. "THURSDAY?!" The macaw coughs up a letter and flies away. After that declaration, many of the patrons started gushing at Gideon's display of affection to the point crowd near the booth in excitement on Mabel's decision.

"They're expectin' us. Please say you'll go.", Gideon asks her, holding up the letter and unaware of the pressure he's putting on her.

"Oh, Gideon, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to say-", Mabel starts before looking back at the patrons and to Gideon, who are waiting for her to say yes. She's been promised only one date and that's all she wanted, but the pressure from saying no to someone who went out their way to do this seems too steep. She doesn't want to disappoint anyone, especially Gideon. After a deep breath, she makes her decision.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

At the Mystery Shack, Stan arrives in front, looking miffed as he holds a newspaper article showing a picture of Gideon and Mabel together with Dipper, Wendy, and Soos. "Hey, hey! What the jackal is Mabel doing in the paper next to that crazy pickpocket Gideon?!" Stan specifically told to not hang around the little gremlin. Why don't they listen?

"Oh, yeah, it's like a big deal.", Wendy explains, looking up from her magazine. "Everybody's talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."

"WHAT?! That little shyster is dating my great niece!?", Stan yells.

"I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple. Mabideon? Gideabel?", Soos brainstorms before gasping."Magidbeleon!" Stan turns towards a nervous Dipper.

"You knew anything about this, kid?", he interrogates him.

"I didn't!', Dipper answers. "I didn't hear about it and plus, I told her not to do it anyway." After hearing this, Stan grumbles before re-entering, wearing his suit.

"Yeah, well it ends tonight.", Stan declares, heading towards the door. "I'm going right down to that little skunk's house; this is gonna stop RIGHT now!" He slams the door and heads to the car, driving to the Gleeful residence. Stan's car skids to a halt in front of Gideon's house. He gets out of the car and marches towards the front lawn and starts knocking on the door, loudly.

"Gideon, you little punk! Open up!", Stan yells before reading a sign on the door that says 'Please Pardon This Garden', before slamming the sign towards the ground. "I will pardon NOTHING!" Gideon doesn't answer the door, rather, his father, Bud Gleeful answers it with a balmy smile.

"Why, Stanford Pines! What a delight!", Bud greets the conman.

"Out of the way Bud, I'm looking for Gideon!", Stan answers, pushing past the patriarch to find the little twerp.

"Well, I haven't seen the boy around.", Bud informs, his smile never leaving. "But since you're here, you simply must come in for coffee!" He gently pulls Stan inside.

"But-but I came-", Stan stutters, trying to get back to his task.

"Ah, ah, ah. It's imported.", Bud explains. "All the way from Colombia." They walk as the tea starts to get made.

"Wow... I went to jail there once." Stan remembers fondly. He allows himself to enjoy the interior design of the house, whistling. "Some digs you got here.", he compliments before eyes focus on a clown painting. "Oh, this. This is beautiful." Bud and Stan sit down and enjoy some freshly brewed coffee.

"Now, I hear that your niece and my Gideon are, well, they're singin' in harmony lately so to speak.", Bud recalls, seemingly happy for son's blooming romance with his beau.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm against it!", Stan declares, pushing a couch cushion to prove a point.

"No no no. I see it as a fantastic business opportunity.", Bud explains to Stan as they pass across the family photo in which there was Bud, Mrs. Gleeful, and their two children: a younger Gideon and a blonde haired teen with a bored expression. "We've been at each other's throats for far too long, yes we have. This is our big chance to set aside our rivalry and pool our collective profit, you see."

Stan closes the register. "I'm listening."

While Stan and Bud are talking about financial profiting, Mabel returns to the Shack after an emotionally draining date with the lobster still on her. She walks in to see Dipper relaxing at the table as he's reading his from the Journal.

He looks up to see his sister come in. "Hey. How'd it go?"

"I don't know.", Mabel answers, putting the crustacean in the fish tank. "...I have a lobster now."

"Well, at least it's over and you'll never have to go out with him again.", Dipper proclaims before going back to reading. He realizes his sister hasn't said anything, onliy tapping on the glass of the fish tank. "Mabel? It's over, right? Right?"

She turns around and exclaims frustratingly, flailing her arms. "He asked me out again and I didn't know how to say no!"

"Mabel, it's not that hard. All you have to do is say no."

"It's not that simple, Dipper.", Mabel says. "I do like Gideon, as a friend slash little sister, so I didn't want to hurt his feelings! I just need to get things back to where they used to be. You know, friends."

Easier said than done. Dipper thinks to himself, shaking his head. Mabel has always been the one that tried to make everyone else feel joyous. Disappointing them is something she hates doing.

True to Dipper's thought process, Mabel tried to say how she really felt about dating Gideon, only for her to backtrack and just go dancing with him on the ballroom floor. She tried again when they were getting some food, but she got nervous as people were gushing at the "couple". Even now, as they're boat riding down the stream with Old Man McGucket paddling, she's mentally trying to push herself into telling Gideon the truth.

"Hah, you know I thought dancing was gonna be the end of the evening, right?", Mabel recalls, nervously as Gideon said that they were just going dancing. Gideon holds her hands, lovingly.

"Don't you want this evenin' to last, my sweet?", the young psychic asks.

She instinctively jolts away. "NO!", she answers quickly before backtracking and trying to be more passive towards the clingy Gleeful. "I mean yes. I mean I'm always happy to hang out with a friend, buddy, pal, chum, other word for friend…"

"Pal?", McGucket chimes in.

"I already said pal.", Mabel answers before coming up with another word. "Mate?"

"How about soulmate?", Gideon asks, lovingly. As he said, fireworks appear with a heart and Mabel's name inside of it. She looks distraught, she wanted to just to let Gideon off easy but he's basically put her in a situation that she can't say no to.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dipper walks downstairs, humming. Once gets closer down the stairs, he hears his sister talking towards herself.

"...I mean, he's so nice, but.. I can't keep doing this. But I can't break his heart. I have no way out!", Mabel rants towards, walking around in a circle, trying to find a way out of this.

Dipper walks in. "What in the heck happened on that date?", he asks her.

"I don't know!", Mabel admits, holding her head in frustration. "I was in the friend zone, and then before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into the romance zone. It was like quick sand! Chubby quicksand!"

Dipper shakes his head and puts a consoling hand on shoulder. "Mabel, come on. It's not like you're gonna have to marry Gideon.", he comforts her. Unfortunately, Stan doesn't get the memo as he walks in with a Team Gideon T-Shirt.

"Great news, Mabel. You have to marry Gideon!", Stan informs, much to her distress.

Mabel is distraught. "Wh-what?!"

"Yep. It's all part of my long term deal with Buddy Gleeful. There's a lot of cash tied up in this thing.", the conman explains, pointing to his T-Shirt. "Plus I got this shirt. Ugh, I am fat." Mabel runs out of the living room, screaming.

"Bodies change, kid!", Stan yells to her, missing the point as to why she ran. "Bodies change…." Dipper just sighs and walks into the attic to see Mabel hiding in her sweater. It's getting that bad.

"Oh no. Mabel?", Dipper asks.

She's cradling her head in her sweater and rocking back and forth. ,"Mabel's not here. She's in sweater town."

He crouches near her with a sympathetic look on her face. "Are you gonna come out of sweater town?", he asks her, only for a whimper to be her response. "Alright, enough is enough. If you can't break up with Gideon, I'll do it for you."

She pops her head out with a hopeful expression. "You will?" He nods his head in response and she gives him the biggest hug that she can. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

True to his word, Dipper took a long trip across Gravity Falls flying as a new alien he found in the watch until he reached his destination: The Club, another restaurant known for its extravagance. He reverts back to his human form and takes a big breath before reaching inside to see Gideon sitting in a booth awaiting Mabel. Dipper heads to the booth and clears his throat.

"Oh. Dipper Pines, how are you?", Gideon greets the young Pine with simulated delight. "You look good, you look good."

"Thanks, you uh…", Dipper laughs nervously. "Look, Gideon. We've got to talk. Mabel isn't joining you tonight, she uh, she doesn't want to see you anymore. She's uh….. kinda weirded out by you, no offense." After he says those words, Gideon sitz there with the same expression on his face processing those words. He stays like that for three minutes, creeping Dipper out.

"So what you're sayin' is...you've come between us.", Gideon says very slowly, his eye twitching ever so slightly.

Dipper starts to get a little nervous. "You're not gonna like, freak out or anything, are ya?"

"Of course not.", Gideon laughs, faking a smile on his face. "These things happen. Bygones, you know."

Dipper sighs, relaxing. "Oh, well that's a relief." Just as he says that, the watch twitched from red to green, beeping to signify that it's charged up. This action causes him to jolt a bit in surprise and Gideon to look at it in intrigue.

"That's an interesting watch you got there.", Gideon inquires as looks at the watch. There's something engaging about it. "Where'd you get it?", Dipper instinctively hides his hand with the watch behind his back for a moment before coming with an answer.

"Uh...", Dipper stumbles before finding an answer. "I-I bought it from…..Japan. It took alot of money to get and it was a...rare item to search for, you know."

Gideon continues to stare at the young Pine, with a smile that starts to become erie. "Fascinatin'."

Dipper looks left and right, chuckling nervously. "So. Okay. Cool. Sorry man, again but uh, hey, thumbs up, right?" He turns around to leave, unaware that Gideon still had that malicious smile on his face.

"Thumbs up indeed, my friend.", he whispers to himself.

As he reaches outside, Dipper lets out a breath that he didn't know held. "Huh, that went better than expected." He honestly expected for Gideon to flip out if anything, he sighs and heads back to Shack, ready to tell her that her Gideon situation is taken care of…..or so he thinks.

In the Gleeful Residence, Gideon is staring into his mirror, seething with rage. He usually doesn't get this angry most of the time, but there are a few things that make reach this peak. The first cause for this could be that he couldn't get what he wants and the second being siblings. Everytime, he hears anything about siblings, it always goes back to his older brother. How his father or mother would look at the pictures of him fondly, how they wouldn't have so much finance without some of his help, how he would always be respectful towards his parents, how successful he is. Him, him, him. No matter what he tries, he'll never have the power, attention, and success to the magnitude of what his older brother has.

With Dipper, he did two things wrong: him being the brother of Mabel and him taking his love away from him. "Dipper Pines, you have no idea what you've done!" He growls, grabbing his amulet tightly and a candle starts to levitate and the light bulbs on his boudoir explode. His other furniture starts levitating. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life!" And like that, he throws the levitated objects on the ground hard enough to shake the room.

Bud Gleeful arrives into the room, shocked to see mostly everything destroyed. "Gideon Charles Gleeful, clean up your room this instant!", he scolds his son, firmly.

"I CAN BUY AND SELL YOU, OLD MAN!", the young psychic yells furiously, scowling at his father, who looks taken aback before shrugging.

"Fair enough.", Bud sighs before closing the door. Gideon turns his attention away from the door and looks down to see a picture of his love, Mabel and the wretch who angers him, Dipper. He holds his amulet and concentrates on incinerating the side with Dipper, leaving Mabel on it. He laughs with malicious intent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After the breakup, Mabel has been feeling a whole lot better. To celebrate, Soos and the twins decide to have a simple game Soos tucks a pillow under his shirt and they try to tackle him.

"Hit me, dudes.", Soos holds his arms out, waiting for them to charge at him. They come at him in full force, laughing as they fall down. "Feels good."

"I'm so glad everything's back to normal!", Mabel sighs in content, feeling relieved that the Gideon ordeal is over.

"You said it.", Dipper agrees, chuckling. As he speaks, the phone rings from inside the Shack, causing the twins to look at each other.

"Your turn.", they both say, only for Dipper to say it later. He gets up and heads inside to answer it. "Hello?"

"Toby Determined, Gravity Falls Gossiper."

"Oh hey man. Sorry for accusing you of murder last week."

"Water under the bridge! Say, we want to interview you about whether you've seen anything unUSUAL about this here TOWN since you've arrived."

"Oh, finally! I thought nobody would ever ask! I have notes and theories! Uh huh, uh huh." He pulls out a notepad and writes the address Toby tells him. "412 Gopher Road. Tonight? Got it." He heads back out, telling Mabel and Soos where he's going and when he'll be back. After a long walk to his destination, he arrives at a factory. Dipper looks at the notepad to check and see if he has the right address, to which he realizes that he does. He opens the door to the factory.

"Hello?", Dipper calls out, hearing nothing. He looks inside to see that nobody's here and turns around to leave, only for the door to slam shut. He pushes on the door to try to open it to no avail. Suddenly, lights turn on and he turns around to see Gideon in a swivel chair, petting a doll of himself.

"Hello, friend.", the young psychic greets him, coldly.

"Ugh, Gideon.", Dipper groans, exasperatedly. Why is he bothering him?

"Dipper Pines, how long have you been living in this town?", Gideon asks the Pine, playing with his toy. "A week or two? You like it here? Enjoy the scenery?" His voice changes from veiled child-like curiosity to quiet fury at the second half of his question.

Dipper starts getting uneasy but calms himself. "What do you want from me, man?", he demands, wanting the young psychic to get to the point.

"Listen carefully, boy.", Gideon's tone becomes deathly serious. "This town has secrets you couldn't begin to understand!"

"Is this about Mabel?", Dipper asks, getting to the point. "I told you, she's not into you!"

This makes Gideon slam his arms on the swivel chair. "LIAR! YOU turned her against me!", he yells as he jumps from his chair, grabbing his amulet and marches toward Dipper. "She was my peach dumplin'!"

"Uh, you okay, man?", Dipper asks, walking back. Gideon lifts his hand up and Dipper's body is covered in an ethereal blue aura and lifted into the air. With a swipe of his hand, Dipper is thrown onto boxes hard. He pulls himself up only to see Gideon grinning at him with malice.

"Readin' minds isn't all I can do.", Gideon laughs ominously, enjoying the dread etched on Dipper's face.

"But-but you're a fake.", Dipper tries to explain.

"Oh? Then tell me, Dipper….", the sadistic child inquires, levitating various merchandise and objects. "Is this fake?" After that question, he starts throwing plates, spoons, and forks at Dipper, who dodges a good portion but gets nicked in the face, vest, and knee, much to the vengeful child's pleasure. Gideon decides to up the ante by throwing cups at constantly moving Pine.

Dipper does everything he can to avoid the merchandise Gideon telekinetically throws at him. The ruthless psychic grabs a cabinet and launches it at the Pine, who jumps out the way to avoid it but ends up hitting the back of his head in the process. He rubs it to ease the pain before he sees the malicious Gideon levitating above him, sneering.

"Grunkle Stan was right!", Dipper yells at the young psychic. "You are a monster!"

"Your sister will be mine!", Gideon declares madly, laughing as he lifts up another cabinet to launch at the young Pine, who hides behind a stack of heavy boxes. The cabinet crashes into the boxes to the wall. Dipper grunts as he realizes that his right arm is bruised, but thanks to the boxes taking most of the damage from the cabinet, he's mostly fine.

Dipper pushes himself up as much as he can to activate the watch. It beeps on and tries to find the right alien that can help. Diamondhead?, Dipper thinks. Swampfire?! Water Hazard?! XLR8?! Come on, there has to be an alien that I'm familiar with! He tries to find the aliens that he knows but to no avail. He almost stops seeing a fire alien. But could this help? He doesn't know what it can-

"Come on out, boy!", Gideon demands , levitating cutlery that are poised to skewer the shapeshifter. "I ain't finished punishing you yet!" Dipper hears this and tries to move, accidentally pressing it via moving across the boxes. As this happens, a massive green light illuminates under the boxes, temporarily blinding the vengeful psychic.

"What in tarnation?!", Gideon asks, puzzled. That green light just came from under there. How did this scoundrel create a light that bright? This might be a distraction of sorts. Gideon thinks as he starts getting impatient and levitates the boxes away. But before he can finish, a massive torrent of flames breaks out of the clutter in an explosive fashion.

Standing opposed to the malicious child is a confused charcoal man. He's composed of a brownish-red rocky texture with intense heat radiating from underneath, specifically ending out of his flaming head, hands, and feet. This shocks the young psychopath before he gets enraged.

"How?!", Gideon demands. "How did you manage to turn yourself into a Pyronite?!" His outrage causes the fiery man to jolt out of his stupor and gives a determined scowl towards the delusional psychic. So this is another flame alien like Swampfire. Maybe I should call him Hetablast, Dipper thinks before mentally sighing. Really wished I had something on this alien that….Gideon somehow knows? He shakes his head and focuses on the present.

"Stop this, Gideon.", the Pyronite demands before getting into a battle stance. "This is your first and final warning." His ultimatum provokes the sociopathic psychic more than he's already feeling at the moment. He lifts up his patented cutlery and launches them at the morphed Pine, who only raises his hand and gives a precise fireball that melts them and charges towards Gideon, pelting more fireballs at him. The crazy psychic sets up a shield as the fireballs explode and disperses on impact. The embers land on some of the boxes, to which causes them to ignite.

"You think you have the right to threaten me, boy?!", Gideon scowls, telekinetically grabbing the flaming boxes and tosses them at the flaming alien, who blasts them into nothing but ash. This gives the young psychic enough time to grab the Pyronite and throw him out through the wall.

Heatblast rubs his head, groaning in pain. "Ow...that hurt." Dipper gets up to see a levitating and apoplectic Gideon, holding up cabinets and heavy boxes. The insane psychic glares at the familiar emblem on the center of the Pyronite's chest. That design looks familiar, Gideon thinks before he realizes it. That watch! That watch is what is allowed that wretch to morph into that Pyronite. First, Dipper turns the love of his life against him and now, he has a piece of technology that can morph him into any alien he sees fit? The insane psychic doesn't know which one makes even more angrier. He decides to channel his anger into throwing his crates at his pyrokinetic opponent.

The transformed Pine dodges most of the crates and blasts the rest of them away. He looks at his fiery hands before looking at his fiery hands before looking at Gideon, who is pulling out more items from the factory as potential weaponry. The Pyro-Pine looks down, quickly trying to form a plan. He probably can't attack and defend at the same time. I can exploit that. He points both flaming hands on the ground. Let's hope Soos was right about copying that comic book character. The flames escape from Heatblast's hands and he finds himself being able to rocket up into the air via propulsion. Once he finds his balance, he flies towards Gideon at high speeds, reaching ascension and delivers a two handed fireball attack.

The vengeful Gleeful puts up his shield as Dipper delivers a massive fireball. Just at the right moment, Gideon grabs the fireball, the flames going from a raging orange to ethereal turquoise, and throws it back to the descending Pyronite. Reaching high velocities, Heatblast crashes into the grassy ground to leave a crater and upheaval of dirt, he propels him out of the crater after a moment's pass. Gideon levitates a massive assortment of lamb shears and in tow, the morphed Pine delivers an intense stream of fire that melts them onto the ground in a hot mesh.

While Dipper's attention was on melting the scissors, Gideon sneakily grabs two of his branded water gallons. After he deals with the scissors, he sets himself up and tosses them into Heatblast, the water causes the Pyronite's fire to be extinguished.

"Uh oh", Heatblast is surprised that his flames are out. What do I do?, Dipper thinks. Before coming up with an idea. If my flames are high enough to melt metal, maybe I can reignite- Heatblast is slammed by a barrage of heavy boxes courtesy of the vengeful Gideon. He finishes up his attack by grabbing one of his cabinets and lifts it up under the Dipper before slamming it down hard on top of the morphed Pine.

"What can you do now, boy?!", Gideon yells, grabbing every item in the factory, ready to finish off the transforming Pine. "That Pyronite form takes time to reignite! Now that you're weakened…." Heatblast gets up slowly, his heat coming back. Gideon tosses everything at him with devastating force. "DIE!"

The Pyronite gets himself up to deliver an equally powerful attack. "HAAA!", Heatblast screams intensely as he delivers a massive flow of flames, greater than before.

The barrage of items being thrown at high velocity and the great stream of fire causes a massive collusion. The massive collusion causes an explosion to erupt instantly, making Gideon to skid across the ground and Heatblast rolls across the grass, burning it, slamming into a tree before falling to the ground. After a few moments pass, Gideon and Heatblast get up, both looking heavily damaged. For Gideon, his blue suit is mostly covered in dirt and ripped on the sleeves and face is scrapped, there's some cuts on his arm. Despite this, he still looks very angry, panting for his breath. Heatblast's movement is slower than usual and, like Gideon, is panting, feeling exhausted.

Heatblast decides to ignite another fireball, while Gideon gets ready to counterattack. Just when he's about to launch at the Gleeful, he hears a dreadful sound. Beep-Beep-Beep. Heatblast's eyes widened. "Oh, no.", he rasps before being enveloped in a crimson light. What replaces the Pyronite is a beaten up Dipper, who's levitated by an apoplectic Gideon and slams him into the wall of the factory, knocking the wind out of him. He tries to break free but to no avail.

"Will you just give up?!", Dipper yells, glaring at the crazy child. "She's never gonna date you, man!"

"THAT'S A LIE!" Gideon screams in anger before his attention is turned towards a flaming box of lamb shears. He turns back at the restrained Pine, smiling sadistically. "And I'm gonna make sure you never lie to me again, friend." He levitates the flaming lamb shears slowly towards Dipper, who tries to move out the way but can't. The deranged psychic just keeps laughing in twisted delight as the shears get closer and closer towards cutting the Pine's face.

"Gideon! We have to talk!" Those words make Gideon freeze in surprise. He turns to see a livid Mabel with her fists clenched.

"M-Mabel. My marshmalla.", Gideon drops the shears on the ground before fixing his hair, nervous as he's caught redhanded. "What are you doin' here?"

Mabel closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry Gideon, but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."

Gideon is taken aback by what she says. She doesn't want to be his marshmallow? "I-I don't understand." he responds, squeezing the amulet that represents his broken heart, which in return, squeezes Dipper.

Dipper feels his body tightening up, uncomfortably. "Uh, Mabel!? This probably isn't the best time to be brutally honest with him!", he calls out to her. Mabel gets a brief look of concern on her face when she glances at Dipper before giving a "sincere" smile towards the distraught Gideon.

"Hey, but we can still be makeover buddies.", she offers, holding his hands gently. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"Really?", Gideon asks, hopeful as he loosens his grip on the amulet. Mabel's eyes never left the amulet and at the right moment, she takes the chance.

She snatches Gideon's amulet off and Dipper falls down."No, not really! You were attacking my brother, what the heck?!"she exclaims. Gideon is shocked by what Mabel just did and tries to get his tie.

"My tie! Give it back!", Gideon demands, only for Mabel throws the amulet to Dipper who gets up and runs after the amulet's trajectory and catches it.

"Not so powerful without this, are you?" Dipper taunts but Gideon screams and charges at Dipper with sudden speed, making him drop the amulet and knocking them both off the cliff.

"Dipper!"

Dipper and Gideon scream. Gideon punches Dipper and the two start hitting each other before they realize that they're getting closer to the ground, making them scream again. But before they splat on the ground, they're both covered in the ethereal blue aura. They look up to see Mabel, holding the mystic amulet, levitating along with them and then floats down.

"Listen Gideon, it's over. I will never, ever, date you.", she declares. With that, she drops them down and throws the amulet to the ground, breaking it. The ethereal glow howling away in the wind.

"MY POWERS! Oh this isn't over. This isn't the last you'll see of wittle... ol' me.", the crazed psychic declares, walking into the dark forest.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Stan finishes signing papers in the Gleeful's living room area. "Ah, this is livin', brother.", Stan sighs in content, leaning back on the couch.

"From now on it's all name brand foods and clown paintings.", Bud Gleeful agrees, taking a swig of his coffee. Just as he says that, a livid and beaten up Gideon bursts through the door. "Gideon? Are you—?"

Ignoring his father, Gideon stands on the coffee table, scowling at Stan, pointing his fist at him. "Stanford Pines, I rebuke thee! I rebuke thee!"

Stan is confused. "Rebuke? Is that a word."

"The entire Pines' family have invoked my wrath! You will all pay recompense for your transgressions!", Gideon declares as he points his nemesis.

"What, you got like a word-a-day calendar or something?", Stan asks, still not taking the young psychic's rage seriously.

"But-but sunshine?", Bud intervenes, laughing nervously. "What about our arrangement with Mabel and—?"

"SILENCE!", Gideon yells at his father, "The deal is off!"

Bud just sighs, before looking at the conman. "Well, I see that he's takin' to one of his rages again. Sorry Stan, but I have to side with Gideon on this one." He rips up the contract, terminating any plans for Mystery Shack and Tent of Telepathy merger.

"Okay, okay. I can see when I'm not wanted.", Stan realizes before grabbing the clown painting and starts to run.

"Stan, I'm-I'm sorry but I'm gonna need that painting back! Stan? STAN!", Bud tries to call out to the conman, only for his words to go on deaf ears.

"TRY AND CATCH ME, SUCKERS!", Stan declares, running to his car, putting the clown painting in the back, driving away. After a long ride, he arrives at the Mystery Shack, where he hangs up the clown painting. "I coulda had it all.", Stan contemplates. He turns and looks at the twins, who look exhausted physically and emotionally exhausted. "What the heck happened to you two?"

"Gideon.", The Pine Twins answer, equally tired after dealing with the crazy psychic.

"Gideon. Yeah, the little mutant 'swore vengeance' on the whole family.", Stan scoffs sitting in the recliner, mockingly raising his fist in the air imitating the angry psychic. "Ha, I guess he's gonna try to nibble my ankles or somethin'."

Dipper gets up a bit. He realizes that Gideon's powerless without his amulet. "Oh, yeah. How's he gonna destroy us now, huh? Try to guess what number we're thinking of?"

Mabel gets up, smiling at the young psychic's misfortune. "He'll never guess what number I'm thinking of.", Mabel says before laughing. "NEGATIVE EIGHT! No one would guess a negative number."

"Uh oh.", Stan gasps jokingly at the Twins. "He's plannin' on destruction right now!" He lays on top of the twins, to which they all laugh, enjoying Gideon's loss.

Meanwhile, at the Gleeful Household, in Gideon's room. He's making dolls of the Pines family, grumbling and growling to himself. He plays with the Mabel doll, looking at it lovingly as he imitates her voice. "Oh, Gideon, I still love you. If only my family weren't in the way." He picks up the Stan doll, disgusts etched on his face as he impersonates him. "Look at me. I'm old, and I'm smelly." He grabs the Dipper doll with a scowl on his face, mocking the Pine. "Hey, what are you gonna do without your precious amulet now that I got a watch that allows me to morph into aliens?"

He laughs, ominously. "Oh you'll see boy…", he closes Journal 2.

"You'll see."

#chapters #dipper pines #mabel pines #soos #stan pines #gideon gleeful #heatblast #omni falls

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