#Coding Courses in new jersey

[brainynbrightinc]

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[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: The Dead Man at the Diner

Danny has a hard time maintaining regular jobs. At this point he’s pretty much nocturnal after years of being attacked at night, and possibly just part of his ghostly nature. He’s odd, and a basic google search brings up various news articles about him getting into fist fights with the mayor of a small town. He barely passed high school and college was out of the question, so who in their right mind would hire him?

What’s a job that would work with his odd hours, doesn’t require a college education, and a possible criminal record and a tendency to be ready to throw down is NOT an issue?

Danny is a cook at a 24hour Diner in Gotham

The man just needs to be able to flip a burger and make breakfast food and doesn’t mind a gun in the face because he’s well used to it. So what if the robber was dumb enough to pull that shit next to the fryer. If he didn’t want something to end up extra crispy he should have stayed out of Danny’s kitchen

Just think of all the folks he would meet.

Sure, the vigilantes of the city would be obvious and you can’t tell me spoiler isn’t dragging folks there to eat. Maybe they notice some weird things about the cook, like he doesn’t breath, his eyes reflect light like an animal’s, or the time he accidentally cut off a finger and it was fine the next day, or maybe the time a robber shot him and he just... didn’t react

Something is weird about that guy

And of course the person I think would love a jersey style diner breakfast at all hours: Harley Quinn

Technically she’s not supposed to bring the hyenas in, health code and all that, but everyone else is to freaked out to tell her and Danny doesn’t care. Frankly he spends his break petting them and they like him because he smells like food.

[rowdyluv]

summary:, in which jack and y/n are closer to leaving for Jersey, it’s their last lake day of the summer, but Luke’s friends bring a group of girls who make it impossibly hard for y/n to enjoy her day.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: underage drinking references, bullying(?), fake girlfriend trope, angst, fluff, use of y/n, pet names (toots), use of real names, use of internal thoughts - y/n’s notated by indention and italics, jack’s indention and bolded - , friends to lover, oblivious pining,

notes: any use of names or likeness of real people or places other than restaurants, arenas / players or player’s friends, family members, old teammates etc, are all completely coincidental

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Jack's muscles flexed as he hoisted the last cooler onto the boat, the sound of ice shifting against the plastic echoing in the mid-morning quiet. The sun beaming hot rays down on his bare shoulders as he bent down to put the cooler in the back corner of the boat. Luke followed closely behind, juggling a stash of towels towered on top of a tote of snacks he had probably already laid claims to. He carried the overflowing bundle with perfected ease until he managed to trip over his own feet when stepping on the boat.

Jack’s loud laughter carried over the calm body of water, “It takes talent to trip over nothing moosey.”

Luke tossed his brother a look as he picked up the towels that splayed out across the floor of the boat. “You would know, seeing how you’re supposed to be a top notch NHL player now and you still fall on the ice, when you’ve not even been checked.”

Jack was silent. He didn’t have anything to say in return, his little brother hit a nerve at the mention of ‘supposed to be top notch.’ Quickly he shook it off, kneeling down to help him pick up the snacks that had fallen out of the tote too. It was Jack and Y/n’s last day to spend out on the lake before heading to Jersey for Jack’s preseason training. Jack didn’t want to spend it in a foul mood.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Dukers and the others are here.” Luke carefully stepped off the boat before jogging off the dock, passing Y/n on his way up.

Just the same as any other boat day, she sat on the boat's bench seat at the back next to the captain’s seat. “It’s crazy to think that in two days I’m leaving my mom, my hometown, and moving to an entirely new state.” Y/n suddenly blurted out to Jack. Who was double checking they had all of the life jackets needed.

“You’re not going to back out on me are you?” Jack didn’t turn to face her or look back in her direction. He continued his inspection. He was truly nervous she would have to go another year without someone with him in Jersey.

“No, of course not…after all, all of my stuff is sort of already there in your new apartment..It's just.. Saying goodbye is always hard for me, I'm not exactly great at letting go.” She fell silent and Jack froze in his spot. He was unsure if she had more to say or if she was waiting on him, so he waited silently hoping she’d continue. Because at that moment it sounded like she wasn’t fully convinced herself she was leaving in two days.

A soft breathy laugh was let out and Y/n continued, “But I did kind of make this agreement with you to be in this fake relationship. Don’t you think that would be a bit hard to do with me here and you there?” She played with the ends of her hair from her ponytail, unsure why she would even bring that up today. She didn’t want to think about it until she had to because the anxiety over it was already eating her alive. Yet here she was letting it fall right out into the open. She was terrified of screwing up somehow and having no one believe in the facade the two of them had created.

“Heh.. Yeah, you kind of did..” Jack sounded far away from where she was, distracted almost. He had turned around to face her now, “but that’s also later, it will all be okay. I promise toot.” He offered her a soft smile and took a seat next to her, leaning over into the cooler to grab himself a beer. “Let’s put all that out of our minds until later too, today is just another day. Let’s have fun, yeah?”

Before Y/n could give any form of response shrilling fake laughter and deep voices drew their attention away from one another.

She watched as Luke reappeared with his friends. As each familiar face trickled in, a new female face with a bigger, brighter, faker smile followed. The girls they had brought along were a bit of a surprise, their presence as annoying as they were loud. Y/n felt a knot in her stomach tighten as she saw the way one of the girls, a blonde with a figure that could make even the most stoic of men stumble, was eyeing Jack like a prize catch.

Because he is a prize catch.

Quinn arrived last, his footsteps heavy on the dock as he carried a brand new handle rope for skiing, kneeboarding, and other activities alike. He looked over the crowd and shook his head. He looked over at Y/n, an apologetic smile gracing his lips. She gave him a small one back, feeling a little better knowing he was on the same page she was with their extra visitors, he also was the only one who knows of the girlfriend arrangement aside from the Devils administration, as Jack had confided in him.

Quinn dropped the rope onto the boat and took his spot behind the wheel. “Everything ready?” Quinn asked to no one in particular.

Jack took one last gulp of the beer he had just opened before nodding eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go baby!”

The blonde giggled, her eyes sparkling like the lake's surface under the hot sun. She sidled up to Jack, her hand lingering a beat too long on his arm as she decided to sit right in between them.

The knot in Y/n’s stomach tightened further. She felt like she could be sick from the blatantly obvious come on. Who the hell does this girl think she is?

This is going to be a long day.

Y/n grabbed the red Devils hat that Jack had let carelessly fall onto the boat's floor earlier when he leaned over, feeling the soft fabric against her palms. She placed it firmly on her head, hoping it would serve as an invisible shield against the barrage of flirty glances and suggestive comments from the blonde. Y/n scooted herself as far over to the edge of the bench seat as possible to get away from her. As the boat's engine roared to life, she settled into a comfortable position, pulled out her phone from her backpack, and pretended to be absorbed in scrolling through her ‘X’ feed. The wind picked up speed, whipping her hair into a frenzy around her face as Quinn steered them away from the dock. The periodic spray of lake water was a welcome distraction from the girl's invasive proximity.

Quinn's eyes flicked over to Y/n, noticing the tension in her shoulders. He cranked up the music, the bass thumping in time with the boat's steady rhythm. The noise was a reprieve, allowing her to sink into the music and momentarily forget about the awkward situation. The boat sliced through the water, leaving a frothy trail in its wake. The cool spray on her skin and the smell of gasoline mixed with the smell of the lake created a peculiar serenity that contrasted sharply with the tension in the air.

Jack, catching Quinn's subtle nod in her direction, glanced over at Y/n. Her eyes remained glued to her phone, but he could tell she was far from engaged in whatever she was scrolling through. The blonde had moved on to flirting with Luke's friends, leaving a gap of space between her and Jack that felt like a mile-wide canyon. He leaned over, his hand gently pushing up his cap from her head so he could see her face better. "You okay toots?" he shouted just loud enough over the music for her to hear him.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the wind tearing a few longer loose strands from her ponytail to slap against his roody red flushed cheeks. She nodded, giving him a forced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," she simply responded back.

Jack didn't look convinced, his brow furrowed slightly. He knew her better than anyone, and the fake cheeriness didn’t sit well on her or with him. He could tell that she was uncomfortable now that he had paid some attention to her, but he wasn’t going to press the issue, instead he leaned back on the bench with a sigh and turned his attention to his older brother engaging him in a conversation about the upcoming season.

The rest of the day unfolded with Y/n retreating further into herself. She stuck to the back of the boat, a norm for her but she was usually involved in conversations or their silly games. But she had seen this play out before, if she got involved in their conversations or games today, one of the girls would find a way to spin a joke off on her. Making it seem innocent, when it truly wouldn’t be.

The atmosphere was electric with excitement, everyone except Y/n seemed to be having the time of their, intoxicated, lives. Jack didn’t seem to notice how reclusive she had become, or if he did he let her be. The blonde, whose name she hadn't caught, had attached herself to Jack like a leech, giggling at every little thing he said, touching him at every opportunity. Y/n felt like she was watching a movie that she had no part in. Her eyes narrowed at the girl’s antics, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. This was supposed to be their day, a last hurrah before leaving. Before his season started and their lives got hectic.

“Let’s put all that out of our minds until later too, today is just another day. Let’s have fun, yeah?”

Jack’s words from earlier replayed in her mind at a deafening level.

He doesn’t want me thinking about moving, thinking about the season, thinking about me becoming his fake girlfriend? He wants me to have fun. How am I supposed to have fun when he’s out here ignoring me? Well I mean I did tell him I was fine….and I won’t join the conversation but… He’s my Jack..

As the boat slowed down to a gentle drift she was pulled from her thoughts as Jack yelled out it was time to swim. Y/n’s heart sank as the blonde and her entourage turned their attention from Jack to her. "You coming?" one of the girls asked, her voice dripping with sweetness that didn't quite hide the sarcasm.

Y/n took a deep breath and nodded, slipping into the cool water. The relief of the water's embrace washed over her, but it was short-lived. The other girls followed. Jack and the guys raced one another to see who could swim the fastest to a designated marker. Y/n started to follow them out to their starting point, before deciding it was probably best to retreat to the boat. Being in the water with females who didn’t have her best interest in mind was not a good idea. She turned around to swim back and was met by the girls’ laughter that quickly turned to sneers the moment the boys were out of earshot. They circled her like sharks, their eyes assessing and cold. The blonde was the ringleader, her smirk a challenge as she pushed closer.

"You know, it's pretty sad," one of the girls began, her voice unintentionally carrying further than intended over the water's gentle lapping. "Jack only brought you because he feels bad. You're like a charity case, tagging along because he can't say no."

The blonde giggled, her eyes never leaving Y/n's. "Yeah, it's like bringing your kid sister on a date to a theme park so she doesn't feel left out." The other girls snickered, their words stinging like jellyfish tentacles wrapping around her heart.

"I mean, come on," another girl chimed in, her voice nasal and grating. "You think Jack's into you? If he was, wouldn't he have already made a move for you? Plus, look at yourself and then look at him. Then you have the fact that he’s a pro-athlete, he can have anyone he wants." By this point Y/n had started to swim away. She had taken enough of their antics, clearly they weren’t a fan of her.

They were only wanting to tear her down, but were they right?

The blonde swam after her, her eyes glinting with spiteful amusement. "You think he'd choose you over someone like me?" She called out when she couldn’t catch up.

Y/n swallowed the knot in her throat as she jerked up a towel and wrapped it around her body. Quinn at some point had climbed back aboard, already nearly dry.

“Huggy, i will give you every penny to my name if you leave right now.” She whispered to Quinn joking, but sort of was deeply hoping that he would take her seriously when he saw her face.

Quinn’s eyes widened at the desperation in her voice, his gaze following hers out to the group of girls. “You okay?”

Y/n nodded tightly, her grip on the towel almost painful. “Yeah, I’m just...peachy.” Her voice cracking over the knot she desperately wanted to keep suppressed down.

Jack’s eyes snapped to her at the word 'peachy'. He was climbing up the boat’s ladder as the words fell out of her mouth. It was their word since high school when said that meant they needed the other without having to say it outright.

Of course he had noticed she had been quieter than usual, but she had pushed him away when he had tried to talk to her early on. Jack figured it was just the reminisce of their conversation from before they were interrupted by everyone else. But the desperation in her voice was clear as a bell, even over the sound of music, different chatter, and other boats speeding around.

His few strides towards her were purposeful and quick, his gaze never leaving her. He softly took a hold of her lower arm, gaining her attention, the water droplets glinting off his bare chest.

The snarky blonde looked up at them from the water, her smirk slipping.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned, only for her.

Y/n's eyes searched his, hers giving him a silent plea to not do this now. She nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ye-."

“Don’t do it, don’t lie to me, toots. I heard you tell Q you were peachy. C’mon what’s up? What’s going on?” Jack pleaded, pulling her to the bench seat they had previously occupied earlier in the day. He wrapped his arm around her waist, turning her to face him before pulling her into him. He didn’t care about the wandering eyes of the females now boarding the boat, his eyes were on his girl.

She held eye contact with him for a moment before she sighed heavily and dropped her gaze to the towel piece that she had in her hand.

“It’s nothing, just those girls, they’re...they’re just saying things, Jack. It’s fine.”

Jack’s jaw tightened as he studied her, his hand moving to tilt her chin up so he could see her eyes again. “What kind of things?” He could only imagine what Angelika, the blonde, would muster up.

“They think I’m just some pity invite, that you’re only still friends with me because you feel bad or something,” she murmured, her voice thick with the evidence of barely holding back unshed tears.

Jack’s eyes narrowed and his hand holding her chin squeezed slightly. “They don’t know us, toots. They don’t know how long we’ve been friends, or how much we mean to each other. They don’t get to define our friendship, our relationship.” His voice was a soothing rumble. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, his thumb tracing circles on her shoulder attempting to ease the tension in her body.

“Even more, none of them are the ones i asked to be my girlfriend. Ya know?” Jack whispered into her ear.

“You forgot an important detail with that, fake.” Y/n laughed softly.

“Yeah, yeah but just to be safe incase others overhear, i just dropped it.” They were both laughing now.

Jack knew she was still upset, and uneasy. The two of them weren’t set to begin their arrangement until sometime after arriving back in Jersey, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to and needing to show her off after hearing what all was said. So he grabbed his phone, placed his Red Devils cap back on her head, and snapped a picture of her with the lake behind her, her smile still a bit forced but beautiful regardless. He posted it on his Instagram story with the caption 'My girl looks good in red'. The reaction was instant. His followers went wild, their excitement palpable through the screen. The likes and replies started rolling in, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed with every positive notification he received.

The blonde's eyes widened as she saw the post, and her flirty giggles turned into a scowl. It was clear she wasn’t expecting this turn of events.

“Pick out your favorites, then I’ll post them. Everyone will know then, but there will be no mistake. You’re not a pity friend. Never have been, never will be.” Jack nudged the side of her head with a simple harmless kiss to her temple.

Jack handed y/n the phone, scrolling through their photos together, looking for the perfect ones to post. The boat ride from the swimming spot had been filled with laughter and smiles, shared between just them. Y/n’s heart fluttered and she had a permanent smile on her face as she took in how many of their happy moments captured Jack had on his phone from throughout the years. His camera roll was taken up by hockey, her, the two of them, and he and his family, random memes here and there, but mainly it was them. He had her pick out a couple pictures she wanted him to post on his page as they sat cuddled up, her arm around his waist, his hand resting on her shoulder.

It was nothing new to anyone who has been around them before, but infuriating to the girls.

Y/n had picked her pictures, but before she could hand Jack his phone back, she had been lulled to sleep by the soft rock of the boat and the comfort of being with Jack. Quinn noticed she had fallen asleep when Jack’s phone fell to the floor of the boat. Jack carefully moved her to where her head was lying in his lap and Quinn covered her with another towel. Quinn handed Jack his phone and he finished making the post.

“Rowdy, do you think this is going to all work out?” Quinn asks his middle brother just loud enough for him.

“It’s me and y/n, Q.” That’s all Jack had to say before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for the remainder of the ride.

it’s me and y/n…it has to work out.

note: pictures below are the ones jack posted (all from Pinterest)

his instagram story post

pictures in his actual post

note: hi! read this blurb next!

[enwoso]

https://www.tumblr.com/enwoso/764157672527396865/this-is-so-leah-and-lovie-coded-icl

Insert Lessi with heart eyes watching Leah and Tiny having there moment and just being very proud of them both. After the game every one of both families gushing over how cute the moment was.

soft spot | alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

based also on this video as well as a few other asks i got based on this video🥹

grumpy masterlist

champion's league nights at the emirates where back, well for most. alessia unfortunatly was having to sit this one out due a minor knock she picked up during training - yes it was annoying but she knew it was just a precaution.

but it did mean it had made a change to who you were walking out with. of course, if alessia had of been playing you would have been by her side. 

the small disappointing look on you face when you found out, espsically since you had been so excited it being your first time walking out at the emirates, it broke alessia’s heart but there wasn't much she could do.

the training staff were not going to take the risk and let her play so instead alessia promised you she would be back for the next champions league match and you could walk out with her then. 

it may not be the same but it would have to do. it was the best solution she could come up with until-

"tiny could walk out with me if she wants too?" leah shrugged as she palced her cup of tea back on the coffee table having watched on the conversation, the sad smile on your face enough to make anyones heart feel that little bit heavier. alessia looked over her shoulder at the blonde a small hopeful look as she shot her girlfriend a smile before she looked at you.

"would you like to walk out with le instead?" your mummy asked you as you stood for a moment assessing your options before you nodded a little, "yes!" you jumped up a little in excitement hugging your mummy's leg before jumping on leah. alessia's heart full again as she mouthed a thank you in leah's direction.

now just a few days after you were stood clad in your arsenal jersey, number six proudly on your back but still with your last name in capital letters, in the tunnel in your mummy's arms as you both awaited leah coming out of the changing room. people had slowly started to come from the doors just behind you and your mummy, as she spoke to some of the staff as well as the some of her teammates which started to emerge. 

then leah came out, making alessia jump a little as she hadn't seen her girlfriend creep up on her, placing a kiss to alessia's cheek before sending a small wave to you which you returned. "i like the look of this" leah smiled as she pointed to the number on your back.

your mummy humming, "thought we'd try something new, didn't we lovie?" you nodded you rested your head on your mum's shoulder more focused on watching the girls come out of the changing room than the conversation.

"don't get used to it though-" alessia whispered as she smiled smugly pecking leah's lips quickly, who rolled her eyes at the other blonde's comment, just as the bell went for the players to start and get ready to line up. 

alessia handing you over to leah, knowing with the mood you were in there was no way you were walking. "i think she's a bit nervous" she whispered as she handed you over, leah nodding.

"lovie, mummy will see you soon" alessia cooed as she kissed your forehead, you saying a small bye as you waved. alessia dropping back to talk to a few of the other girls as leah began to distract you hoping to pull you slightly from your quiet mood. 

"what have you been doing with mummy this morning?” leah asked as you hummed a little your fingers hanging in your mouth. leah had left a little earlier meaning she missed the usual routine that would take place. eating breakfast all together, getting in the car all together etc.

“had breakfast with mummy then went to the park and see nonna and gramps” you said quietly your fingers still in your mouth as leah smiled listening to you as she reached up to take your fingers from your mouth.

“that sounds fun, did you beat mummy on the slide race? did you have your usual?” leah asked you a. few questions to try and distract you as you nodded. anytime you were at the park you had to have race down the slide with whoever you were with, it was tradition. most of the time you won but the odd occasion you would get slowed down by the slide.

as well as you always loving your cereal with a fruit pot to the side having it every morning as you watched the cartoons on the tv while mummy and leah would get ready for the day with a coffee in their hand.

you were starting to come back out your shell a little as leah talked to you calming your little nerves, alessia was still in the tunnel as she spoke with some of the other girls seeing how they felt before the game but also close by just in case you had a little wobble and no longer wanted to walk out with leah.

“leah really has a soft spot for tiny doesn’t she-“ lia smiled as she looked in the same eye line which alessia was looking in. alessia bringing herself out of her little bubble as she watched both you and leah and how easily she had calmed your nerves — something leah was strangely good at.

alessia nodded as she tried to stop the big grin appearing on her face but it was no use, “she really does” alessia agreed, she couldn’t not. leah did have a soft spot and while you may not be her own blood, leah would do anything to make sure you were happy.

“le? we go out there?” you asked, pointing further down the tunnel where you could see the green of the grass a little flash of fear appearing on your face again.

“yeah, just down there” leah explained as she watched as you fingers found there way back into your mouth, “but don’t worry, i’ll be right here and then mummy will be waiting at the side for you” leah assured you, taking your hand in hers as you sat snug in her arms.

it was finally time for the players to walk out and leah asks if you want to walk but you shake your head so you walk out in leah’s arms. the noise of the fans going right through you as you look at the many colours in the stadium most being dressed in some sort of red clothing.

the music playing through your ears, “look there mummy, are you going to wave?” leah asked as she speaks directly into your ears so you can hear over the roars of chants.

leah smiling as she waves to alessia, you looking over with an unsure smile, your fingers in your mouth as you felt a little overwhelmed not really sure where to look.

a small chuckle coming from leah as she walked your confused look, shaking hands with the opposing team as well as taking the team photo before leah placed you down on the grass. taking your small hand in hers as she lead you towards alessia who was waiting on the touch line for you.

“good luck le”

-

the end of the game came and as leah did her rounds of the pitch clapping to the fans and thanking them, signing a few arsenal shirts before she got to where she really wanted to be. which was with her family.

alessia had spent the game surrounded by her family but also leah’s. you had exerted so much energy during the first half, chanting and jumping up and down with luca and jacob that by the 80th minute you were snuggled up in your mummy’s jacket fast asleep.

leah said her hellos making her way along the line before she made it to alessia, the two sharing a sweet kiss as leah leaned over the barrier.

“where’s little one?” leah asked alessia as she scanned the small section of the crowd for you, more awaiting fro you to just pop up from no where and scare the life out of her but she couldn’t see you nor hear you.

“she’s here-“ alessia chuckled a little as she peeled back her jacket to show your sleeping form as leah awed at the sight.

“do you want me to take her, give your arms a rest?” leah asked as alessia nodded lifting you up into leah’s arms. you not even batting a eyelid, still in dream land.

alessia placing a kiss to you cheek as leah walked back along the line to talk to her mum, as carol turned to her daughter wrapping her in a side hug with a loving smile on her face.

“you’ve picked a good one less-“ carol smiles as alessia hums watching her girlfriend walk around with you wrapped securely in her arms, looking very sexy in alessia’s modest mind.

“i really did get lucky-“ alessia paused, a proud smile lifting on her lips, “she’s always putting me and lovie above herself”

“you can tell she really love you less. loves you both”

[nenoname]

Journal 3’s references to Stan

(…does the Lost Pages count as J3 when some had to be in J2 and also may or may not be a truth lie turducken? idk. Ford’s TBoB letters sure as hell don’t count as J3 but I’m including them here anyway)

Lost Journal Pages

"STANLEY COULD HAVE MADE HER LAUGH"

“My stomach sank a bit when I realized… it was my birthday. This day has felt… odd, since S and I… parted ways.”

"I was adjusting my TV antennae for weather reports (looking for ideal conditions for F's first portal test) and spat out my coffee when I saw THIS! My brother hawking scams under the name "Panley Stines." I had half a mind to call that number, just to pretend to be the police and maybe scare S straight for once! There is something so galling about seeing your OWN FACE committing crimes on your own TV! When my Muse saw me break my stress ball, I decided it was finally time to vent about Stanley."

""How about that; you've got an inferior clone! Why didn't you just eat him in the womb? Think of how powerful you'd be!"

"You can't just eat your twin, Bill."

You'd be surprised what you can eat! I say sure, call him if you want him to start mooching off you again! ME, I went no contact with my home dimension and I don't regret it. All they did was hold me back and sabotage my talents! Can you imagine?"

"More than you know. But you do ever wonder if maybe... maybe things could have been different?""

"Our heat budget was so tight that Mom forced S and me to wear one sweater at the same time. (She called it the "Abominable Snow-Stan." Our cat lived in fear of it year-round.)"

“DAMN! This morning I found F rummaging through my old copy of Urban Legends of New Jersey, where I had forgotten I had hidden some old personal items! I’ve quickly re-hidden them here, away from prying eyes.”

"But then he crossed a line. Helplessly I watched Cipher in my own body limp up to a pay phone and dial... STANLEY'S phone number from the infomercial?! No. He wouldn't.

"Hey brother, it's Sixer. I'm going to take a swim in the frozen lake tomorrow, and I might not ever come back, so if you don't hear from me, I just want you to know that it's because I never loved you. BUH-BYEEEEE."

My heart was in my throat until I heard the dial tone... The pay phone was out of order. The message hadn't gotten through. Cipher turned back to address me.

"TSK, TSK, TSK. LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME MAKE YOU DO! TOMORROW'S TAPE IS GONNA BE MUCH WORSE.""

(Bro secret code) "miss you"

“The snow has begun to fall again and there’s very little time. There’s only one left I can turn to to protect my journals while I prepare for the journey…”

"S is an overgrown child with none of my rigorous mental training. Who knows what could happen if Cipher stepped inside Stanley's mind for even one minute...

What if Stanley somehow manages to destroy the portal just like he destroyed my perpetual motion machine? I suppose that machine did work in its own way... It kept me perpetually angry for thirty years."

(Bro secret code) "HAVE I BEEN TOO HARSH ALL ALONG?"

"What if he tries to rope me into his latest get-rich-quick scheme? His latest commercial was for "Stan Sauce: The Miracle Sauce that's too cool for the FDA!"

What if... he mocks me? What if he sees that I abandoned our family to become a recluse on the brink of madness? Could I risk admitting that I was... wrong?

PROS: I have no one else. Well, that settles it. It's time to come face-to-face with a face I haven't seen in 10 years. My own face. Which... is my brother's face. God, I miss sleep."

Ford’s Letters

"In the weeks since Weirdmageddon, I conducted numerous tests on Stanley's mind (his terrible jokes are still intact) and inspected the state for dimensional leakage (we also took turns kicking the statue, and Stanley took a few cracks with a crowbar). I burned every Cipher-shaped item I had ever collected, and even threw away all my one-dollar bills, just to be safe (Stanley, of course, found and pocketed them).

“I emerged from my lab after days of agonized contemplation to find- to my shock- that Mabel was reading the book, out loud, to Stanley, Dipper, Soos, and Wendy!”

“They didn’t see me as an irredeemable screwup. Stanley said, "So, your past is just a giant pile of mistakes? Congratulations- you really are a Pines!”“

"Bill may tell you that happiness requires conquering galaxies and living forever, but I've seen enough of the universe to tell you that he's wrong. I've found my happiness. And it looks like this:"

"If you're reading this... then I am dead. Kidding! Sorry, Stanley thought that would be funny. Ha-ha! We're currently out shopping for harpoons to prepare for our trip to the arctic."

"Stan, if you end breaking into my lab at some point later today- Bravo! Still as good a locksmith as in 8th grade. Beers are under the desk."

(It kinda strikes me that the BoB Lost Journal pages about Stan sound far more like post-portal Ford’s opinions on Stan instead, where he’s openly angry at both being pushed into the portal + at the portal being opened again + his murder suicide attempt being foiled + Stan disowning him + turning his house into a tourist trap + taking his identity vs pre-portal Ford being more… melodramatic(?) constantly being reminded of him but not wanting to linger too long? idk the vibes are different

Plus pre-portal Ford pretty consistently only calls Stan "S” or just refers to him as his brother (with the exception of him writing his name in a Caesar cipher). I think he only ever messes up the general naming scheme a single time when he wrote Fiddleford instead of F

…not to mention the perpetual motion machine comment says thirty instead of ten years)

Other sections: Pre-Portal, Post-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon

[celiastjamesoscar]

Himbo Next Door

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x gn! Reader

Summary: you met Tara in the elevator your apartment and you two awkwardly hit it off. You begin to form a situationship with her, but Sam disapproves of you.

Warnings: Scream levels of violence, Pitbull Sam

Word Count: 5.5k

AN: this was from a request and I kind of expanded on it. I hope you enjoy it and if theres anything I need to change, let me know! If anyone has some requests, also let me know!

This is my first time writing a himbo reader, so im sorry that it’s not the best in that regard

Rain pattered against the quiet apartment complex as you rushed into the building, holding a pizza box. It had been a nice, beautiful day outside, but Mother Nature decided to flip on a dime. And, of course, you wore a white button shirt with black slacks, so your shirt was utterly see-through thanks to the rain. This was supposed to be a lovely evening out with friends, but it had turned into a disaster, and you were more than ready to binge-eat pizza while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

You were initially supposed to go to a fancy restaurant with your best friend, Olivia, her boyfriend, and another close friend, Lucas. It was a going away dinner for her, as she was moving away for college. The restaurant was one of the best ones in New York City, and you somehow managed to snag a reservation for the four of you. As it was a top-notch restaurant, there was a dress code that one had to follow: black tie. You wore a handsome black suit with a white undershirt, and you were more than excited to drink the best wine and taste the best food that New York had to offer.

You meet up with your friends outside the restaurant, waiting for Olivia’s boyfriend to show up. She wore a beautiful cocktail dress, while Lucas wore a decent suit; he wasn’t what you would classify as a redneck, but he fit the description to a tee.

Thirty minutes had passed before her boyfriend showed up, and you almost lost it. He wore sweat shorts with an ugly soccer jersey, and to top it off, he wore a beanie that he refused to take off. You were always calm and collected, not one to jump to violence even when needed, but he really pissed you off sometimes.

You knew there was no way you guys would be allowed to dine at this restaurant just because of him, but you still gave it a shot. And whenever you guys walked into the restaurant, the waiter asked him to leave or change, but he insisted that he was allowed to eat there because he was ‘more of a man’ than the owner. Because of this, he turned it into a fifteen-minute argument with the manager, and then all four of you were asked to leave.

You were naturally upset about this and the fact that you had to put down a hundred-dollar deposit just to reserve a table. After you guys had left, he decided the group would go to Hardee’s, as he needed to get his daily food from there. You held your tongue as you drove there; this was supposed to be Olivia’s going-away party, but he just had to hijack everything.

Long story short, you were out a hundred dollars, listened to Olivia’s boyfriend talk about the WWE for thirty minutes, and bought a pizza at a locally-owned pizzeria. Just as you left the pizzeria, a downpour of rain started, causing your outfit to get ruined while you had to drive home in the rain. Your nerves were more than shot, but you didn’t say anything. Confrontation made you uncomfortable, and you always did your best to avoid it.

As you made your way to the elevator, a soft voice called, ‘Hold it!’ You switched the box to your left hand and held the elevator door back with your right.

“Thank you,” the voice said once she entered the elevator. She was close to a foot shorter than you, and when your eyes made contact, your heart skipped a beat. She was easily the most beautiful person you have ever seen; she had soft chestnut-brown eyes, freckles that highlighted those eyes, and the prettiest smile you had ever seen. Her bangs perfectly framed her face, and you couldn’t even mutter, ‘You’re welcome.’

She looked at you uncomfortably while looking at the elevator buttons. “Oh, looks like we’re going to the same floor then,” she said with an awkward chuckle while glancing over at you.

Your eyes snapped to the buttons and then back to her. “I guess so,” you said with a weak voice.

Tara looked at you when you spoke, but her eyes slowly drifted down to look at your shirt. She admired your abs through the soaked white shirt as it clung to your body, trying her best to keep her cheeks from getting too warm. She loved how you towered over her, and she would pay money to see your muscles or watch you work out.

Tara was snapped out of her thoughts as the elevator dinger and the doors opened. You smiled at her politely as you left the elevator, and to your surprise, she followed you down the same hallway. As you approached your door, Tara walked to the door before yours.

When you found yours, you unlocked your door and opened it, but before you walked in, you looked over your right shoulder and smiled at Tara. “It was nice meeting you,” you said softly as you walked into your apartment and shut the door. Tara smiled back at you while saying, ‘You too.’

You ran into Tara several times like that, and you tried your best to talk to her. You weren’t the best at socializing, especially with beautiful women, and Tara seemed to like that about you. You would always listen to her and seemed to enjoy what she said.

After enough small talk in the hallway, she eventually asked you to come to her apartment for the first time. You were nervous, of course, but there was no way you could pass on an opportunity to hang out with the alluring woman.

“Here we are,” Tara said as she held the door open for you. You smiled at her while walking into the apartment. It was nice and cozy, and it looked a lot like yours, and you instantly felt at home. Tara crept up behind you, grabbed your hand, and eagerly pulled you into the living room. Your cheeks immediately warmed at the touch, and you didn’t fight back as the younger girl tugged you into the living room.

You sat on the couch next to her as she grabbed the remote. “So, you know how I told you I wanted to watch a movie with you?” Tara asked with a smile while staring into your eyes; she could look into them forever and never get bored.

“Yeah, ‘The Babadook,’ I think?” You questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, that’s the one,” Tara said with a smile as she got up and looked around the entertainment center for the DVD. After a few minutes of looking, she let out a loud ‘ah-ha’ and inserted the disk into the DVD player.

She then sat on the couch and rested her head on your lap. The action caught you off guard, but then you gently ran your fingers through her hair. She smiled at the action and let out a soft sigh of happiness as she nestled into your lap.

That's how you two spent every Friday night: curled up on her couch watching movies. You enjoyed being in the girl’s company, and Tara loved showing you her favorite movies. Sometimes, you two would gossip about people on campus- you were in psychology together- or you would talk about what you had done that day.

Tara had mentioned that she had a sister she lived with, but you had never met her. Frankly, you were a little nervous to meet the older woman. You had caught yourself slowly falling for Tara, and it seemed that Tara valued her sister’s opinion more than her own. You hoped that you would make a good impression when you did meet her; you just didn’t expect to have to meet her today.

You and Tara were watching your new favorite show, ‘New Girl.’ It had been a peaceful night, and you two refused to watch an episode without the other. You were lying on the couch with Tara curled up on your chest. You guys were laughing together as Jess explained how she bought a footstool with a giant bag of meth when you heard the door to the apartment open.

Tara quickly pushed herself off your chest when she heard the door open and sat at the opposite end of the couch.

“Hey, Sam! What are you doing back here so soon?” She asks with a slightly nervous tone as she pauses the tv.

You heard the sound of boots walking toward you on the couch. You slowly push yourself up on the sofa, resting on your elbow as you look at the woman.

Sam was certainly taller than Tara, but not taller than you. She had jet-black hair and beautiful brown eyes. You were almost certain if Tara didn’t hold your heart, you would have fallen for the woman. She has a neutral expression as her eyes dart between you and Tara. “What’s going on here?” She dryly asks as she hangs up her backpack purse and turns to face you two.

You were about to say something, but Tara quickly interrupted you. “We were just watching a movie. This is Y/N, by the way,” Tara says as she nudges you, silently telling you to introduce yourself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You are extremely gorgeous,” you say with a giant smile as you extend your hand. Tara gives you a look of disbelief, but you can't see it as you face her older sister.

Sam looks at you suspiciously before shaking your hand. She makes sure to give you a good death grip, and if it weren’t for Tara, you probably would have melted onto the floor.

She scoffs as she rolls her eyes and lets go of your hand, and then looks at Tara, “Where did you find this street rat?”

Tara let out a small laugh that caused you to whip your hand around and give her a disheartening look. She quickly clears her throat before speaking in an annoyed tone, “I ‘found’ her in the apartment building, actually. We met in the elevator and shared a few conversations in the hallway.”

“So you have invited a stranger into our home with just you two here?” Sam asks with narrow eyes as she stares at you.

Her sister huffed, “This isn’t our first time hanging out here.”

At that, Sam’s eyes instantly leave yours, and she is staring at Tara with wide eyes and her mouth slightly open. “Are you kidding me, Tara?! Have you been hanging out with this random person while I’ve been at therapy? What if they tried to kill you?” Sam exclaims as she walks over and kneels before Tara, checking her sister for scratches or cuts.

“I would never hurt her, Sam. She’s too kind,” you say with a giant smile, even though Sam just insisted that you were a potential killer. You didn't care that she implied it; all you could think about was the beautiful girl you shared the couch with.

Sam slowly looks at you while keeping her hands on her sister’s knees. She glares at you with narrowed eyes as her eyes look you up and down. She can tell that you are taller than her and undoubtedly stronger than her. The fact that you could easily overpower both her and her sister set Sam on edge, but the way you seemed to carry yourself: the way you talked, sat, smiled, and even breathed made her even more suspicious of you. Sam had already seen how someone Tara loved killed her friends and almost both of them; she refused to let that happen again.

But you just seemed so indifferent about things. Sam wanted to call you some other things that weren’t nice, but she stuck with calling you indifferent.

Sam looked back at Tara and lightly sighed. “Is this the one you’ve been talking about?”

Tara moves around nervously while Sam calls her out. Her eyes shift uneasily between you and Sam as she fidgets with her fingers. “Um, yeah, they are,” she says with a low voice.

“Okay,” Sam says with a defeated tone as she stands up. She looks at you and speaks threateningly, “If you do anything to hurt Tara, I will kill your entire family and then you.”

You smile at Sam’s words as you sit up on the couch. “I don’t talk to any of my family, so I wouldn’t really care if you did. But I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill me; I love hanging out with Tara, and I would greatly miss it,” you say gently as you look at Tara. Tara is staring holes into the floor while she tries to hide her smile with her right hand.

Sam rolls her eyes at your comment and walks into her room, but not before sending a threatening glance at you and Tara on the couch. You had moved closer to her sister, and you looked back at her, sending her a polite wave with a friendly smile, believing that you had made a great impression on the older woman.

Sam scoffs as she walks into her room, slamming her door. You look back at Tara with a gentle smile and ask with a quiet tone, “You told her about me?”

The atmosphere in the living room immediately changed into something tense, and Tara could almost taste it on her tongue as she spoke calmly, “Um, yeah, I did. Does that bother you at all?”

You love how Tara refused to meet your gaze when she spoke; it almost made you believe she harbored romantic feelings for you, just as you did for her. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I kinda like it,” you say with a gentle smile as Tara’s eyes meet yours.

Those beautiful brown eyes smiled for her as they quickly glanced down at your lips before returning to yours. “You mean that?” She asks in a more confident voice as she shifts her body to face you; she has pulled her left leg up onto the couch while letting her right one hang off the couch, and her entire body is facing you.

“Of course, I mean that, Tara. I actually think I made a good impression; she seemed really nice,” you say happily. Tara let out a small laugh as she grabbed your hands and pulled you closer to her. You followed her silent commands and ended up laying your head in her lap while facing the tv.

Once your head got comfortable in her lap, Tara softly ran her fingers on her left hand through your hair while she reached for the tv remote on the coffee table with her other hand. “Just so you know, you did not, in fact, make a good impression with Sam, but I still like you,” Tara said with a smile that grew bigger when she heard you scoff in response.

She loved having these small, soft moments with you. She knew you weren’t the brightest, but your kind and caring nature made up for it plenty. Tara would give up everything she had to her name if it meant spending an evening like this with you for the rest of her days. You held her heart in your hands, and it only took her two weeks to admit that after your first encounter with Sam.

You two were going on a ‘double date’ with Mindy and Anika. You were a bit iffy on calling it a double date, as you and Tara weren’t dating, but Mindy and Anika are. So in your head, you called it a ‘totally platonic hangout.’

You got dressed and left your apartment to head over to Tara’s. When you knocked, the door instantly opened, and Tara was wearing a giant smile and a cute outfit.

“Hi,” she says with an angel-like voice while staring up at you with soft eyes.

“Hi,” you reply breathlessly. If Tara would let you, you would always stare at her, admiring her beautiful features and counting her freckles.

She snaps you out of your daydream by taking your hand in hers and intertwining your fingers. You gently bump your shoulder against hers as you walk towards the elevator and out to your car.

When you two get in the car, you start it and drive towards the restaurant. You and Tara talk about your day and how you missed each other (it's been two days since you last saw each other). You tell her about the crazy things your roommates have done recently, and she laughs at your stories. She tells you about new things in her life, such as Sam asking about you more and that she’s got a new roommate named Quinn. Tara said that the girl was promiscuous but funny and lighthearted. She then starts to talk about Chad, and you instinctively tense up.

“Chad hasn’t left me alone all week, Y/N! It's starting to drive me crazy. At first, I thought he just wanted to hang out as friends more, but yesterday he told me he has feelings for me. Can you believe that?” Tara asks with a small laugh as she looks over at you. You had gripped the steering wheel tighter at the mention of Chad having feelings for Tara. Your chest began to tighten, and your heartbeat picked up with jealousy. You had no right to be jealous, but you couldn’t help. Chad was athletic like you, but he was also a lot smarter than you, which Tara valued and liked as a romantic partner.

“Oh. Well, I'm happy for you, Tara. You deserve someone like him,” you lie through your teeth with a sad tone.

At your saddened tone, Tara finally noticed how your body was tense and how you seemed to want to strangle the steering wheel. She reaches her left hand out and gently places it on your arm, “I don't like him like that, Y/N,” Tara says honestly while looking at you with love. You visibly relax at her words and almost let a smile appear.

“How come? He’s everything you want in a partner: smart, funny, caring, loyal, and strong,” you reply with a weak voice that Tara almost laughs at.

She rubs her hand up and down your arm as she says, “I don’t like him back because I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh. Well, I hope they make you happy,” you say honestly. Tara might not like you back, but you wanted her to be happy. And if she was happy, you were too.

Tara gently squeezes your arm before pulling back and placing her hands in her lap. She looks at you with so much yearning and love that she’s surprised you can’t feel it, but then she remembers you were basically a himbo: friendly, respectful, handsome, but not that bright. “You have no idea,” she says while sending heart eyes your way.

When you two get to the restaurant, you meet with Mindy and Anika and walk in together. You four get a table in the corner of the restaurant. You are sharing a side with Tara while sitting across Anika and Tara across from Mindy. You guys made idle conversation while waiting for someone to take your orders.

An attractive young woman approaches the table with a pip in her step, “Hey guys, welcome to O’Charley’s, my name is Sadie, and I’ll be your waitress for today. What can I get your guys to drink?”

All four of you order sweet teas, and before she leaves, she sends you a flirty wink that you missed, but Tara didn’t. She let out a small scoff as she hid her face in her menu, trying to fight jealousy. You look at Tara but don’t say anything, afraid to upset the girl more.

When Sadie brings back your teas, your hand lightly brushes hers as you grab yours, causing the woman to smirk. “Alright, are you guys ready to order?” She asks as she pulls her notepad from her apron, and you guys nod. “Okay, what can I get for you, beautiful?”

You pull your head from the menu and find that Sadie is talking to you. “Oh, I would like six-ounce sirloin with a Caesar salad and fries, please,” you say with a small smile. Not a flirty one, just a friendly one, but both Sadie and Tara mistake it for a flirty one. One girl is excited, while the other is filled with thoughts of murder.

Sadie finishes taking everyone’s orders before she quickly disappears again, but the atmosphere at the table is tense. Everyone but you can feel it, to which you start another conversation, and everyone else but Tara joins in. You tried to get the girl to talk, but you would get a small ‘uh huh’ or ‘of course.’

When your meals arrive, the four of you eat in peaceful silence, occasionally talking about how excellent your food is. It was an overall relaxing dinner until the checks came.

“You guys are separate, and you two are together?” Sadie asks, gesturing to you and Tara before gesturing toward Mindy and Anika. She was asking about the checks, but Tara picked up on the hidden underlining that you did not.

“That is correct,” you say as you accept your check from Sadie and then hand Tara hers. You all pay in cash and quietly wait for Sadie to come back.

When she does, however, she hands everyone their change, and instead of leaving, she pulls out her notepad and writes her number down on it. “Give me a call sometime,” she says with a wink as she hands you the paper.

You were going to ask what she meant by that, but any words got lost on your tongue as Tara stood up from the table and stormed out of the restaurant. Your clueless eyes follow Tara out of the restaurant before you lose sight of her, and you turn away to find both Mindy and Anika staring at you with wide eyes. “Go get her, dumbass,” Anika says harshly after a moment.

You grab yours and Tara’s change before quickly excusing yourself from the table, almost knocking your chair over. After you leave the restaurant, your eyes scan the area, looking for your lady. It only takes you a few seconds before your eyes land on her; she’s sitting on a bench, just staring at the ground.

You jog over to her and stop when she looks up at you. Her eyes are filled with a bit of anger and a lot of hurt, and for the first time in your life, you are out of words to say. You were always overtly friendly with people and they often mistook flirting with friendliness, which seemed to be your downfall with Tara.

“Tara, I am so sorry-”

“Just take me home, Y/N,” Tara cuts you off as she stands up from the bench and walks towards your car. You followed closely behind her, and when you got to the car, you went to open the door, but she shut it and opened it herself. You were slightly startled by the action but shook it off as you made your way to the driver’s side and got it. You start the car and drive back to the apartment; tension is the only thing you two feel.

You tried to talk to Tara throughout the car ride home, but she just stayed quiet and looked out the window with her arms crossed. You knew she was mad, but you couldn’t tell why. At first, you thought it might have been because of Sadie, but you and Tara weren’t dating, so she can’t be upset about it. Plus, your heart only belonged to Tara, so you would never go for anyone else.

When you two returned to the apartment building, it was an awkward ride up to your floor. When you two stepped off the elevator, you finally spoke, “Tara, please, I’m sorry, just talk to me,” you pleaded as you followed behind the girl.

You were getting ready to usher more apologies as Tara opened her door, but you were quickly cut off when she slammed the door in your face. You were stunned at the harsh action but knocked on her door once you realized what had happened. “Tara, please. Talk to me,” you said with a defeated tone. You waited a minute before sitting on the floor and resting your back against the door, sending Tara a string of apologies and asking her how you could fix it. But you got no reply, so you closed your eyes and rested your head against the door, hoping she would open up.

You fell asleep at one point but were quickly woken up when the door opened. Tara scoffed at you before she stepped over you. You stood up after she did that and followed her down the hallway. “Tara, you have to talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong,” you pleaded as you grabbed her wrist.

She pulled her hand out of your grasp. “Leave me alone, Y/N. I'm going to a party with Chad,” she said with a voice full of anger. Your heart instantly dropped at the mention of Chad, and your face showed it.

“Why Chad?” You asked with hurt, causing Tara to stop and turn around. She noticed the hurt look on your face, and she instantly wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let go, but she refused to give in easily.

“Because, Y/N, he invited me to go with him as his date. And who knows, I might even get lucky tonight,” Tara replied as she crossed her arms. She had no intention of sleeping with Chad; she just wanted to make you jealous enough so you’ll finally make a move on her, but Tara soon found out how wrong she was.

With a defeated sigh, you slumped your shoulders and spoke with a heartbroken voice, “I didn’t know you truly felt that way towards him. I hope he gives you the world then, Tara. You deserve that kind of love. I hope you have fun tonight, and just so you know, I am so sorry and I don't want to lose you.”

When you finished talking, you gave Tara a tight-lip smile as you turned around and walked toward your apartment. You were just outside your door when you felt a tiny hand slip into yours, pulling you around. You barely have time to respond before Tara crashes her lips against yours.

You were so shocked to feel her lips against your own you just stood there like an idiot before you finally broke out in a grin and kissed her back. When you kissed her back, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body became warm the more Tara kissed you. You grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, needing to feel her body against yours. Tara parted her lips to deepen the kiss, and your knees almost buckled.

When oxygen was needed, you two pulled away, resting your foreheads together. You two could hear nothing but the sounds of each other trying to catch your breaths and the drums of your hearts. You placed one final kiss on Tara’s lips and pulled away from her. “Are you still going out with Chad?” You asked with a slight frown; you really wanted to hang out with Tara after what just happened, but you were still unsure of where you stood with her.

She laughed as she grabbed your hand and opened your apartment door. “Not a chance,” she whispered against your lips, pulling you into your apartment before closing the door.

That was four weeks ago, and today you are preparing a dinner for yours and Tara’s one-month anniversary. She told you it didn't have to be anything special, as you two would have many more months together in the future, but you insisted on doing something nice. You were cutting up some steaks in the kitchen while Tara made homemade mashed potatoes. “Do you think Sam would want any?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know. You should ask her though. I think she’s on the couch,” Tara replies as she mashes the potatoes in a saucepan. You nod at her words and head into the living room with the knife still in your hand.

Sam was lying on the couch watching tv. She wanted to stay home tonight to keep an eye on you and Tara, but she wanted to give her sister some amount of privacy.

“Hey, Sam, I'm getting ready to make some steak. Would you like some?” You ask, pulling Sam’s attention away from the tv. She leans up, and her eyes instantly land on the knife, dripping with blood. Her mind is filled with thoughts of Tara, and her body reacts before she can even think; her hands grab your arm and flips you over the couch and onto the coffee table, breaking it. She quickly takes the knife out of your hand and presses her right knee into your chest, making breathing hard for you. The action slightly turned you on, and you mentally murdered yourself for thinking that way about your girlfriend’s sister.

“What the fuck was-oh my god, Sam! Get off of her!” Tara screams as she runs into the living room, pulling Sam off your chest. You suck in some air, and Tara moves to help you up, “are you okay, love? Is anything broken?” She questions while checking over your body for any injuries.

“No, I'm okay,” you say as you stand up and look at the table, “your table isn’t, though.” Tara laughs at your comment and kisses your cheek before turning toward her sister. Her caring and loving nature was gone and replaced with anger. “Why did you do that, Sam?! Y/N was just being nice!”

Sam scoffs at Tara’s words but flinches back as Tara points the knife at her, demanding an answer. Sam reaches out and pushes Tara’s hand down, “I saw the blood on the knife and freaked out. I'm sorry, Tara,” Sam mumbled with shame.

“Don’t apologize to me; apologize to Y/N,” Tara demands, still staring at her sister.

Sam glares back at her sister before looking at you. “I'm sorry I flipped you over the couch and onto the coffee table,” Sam says with a low voice as her eyes refuse to meet yours.

“It's okay, Sam. Don’t worry about it,” you say with a smile. It really was okay with you, even though you felt slightly bad about breaking the table.

After your dangerous encounter with Sam, you and Tara return to the kitchen and finish dinner. You even made Sam a plate and brought it to her room. She thanked you as she took it, and you smiled politely as a response.

You and Tara continued having small dinners at home, followed by movie nights. She would also stay up late reading her books to you as you fell asleep. You weren’t the best at reading, but you loved the stories more than anything, and you loved them even more when Tara let you lay on her chest as she read to you.

It was game night at the Carpenter’s apartment, and the core four plus the girlfriends were over, along with Quinn, but she had a ‘male friend’ over. The six of you were playing a not-so-relaxing game of Uno when muffled screams came from Quinn’s room. The group just laughed it off, believing it was just Quinn having a really good time, but when her screams became ones of pain, and she cried for help, everyone stood up from the table and ran into the living room, staring at Quinn’s door.

The apartment had fallen into an eerie quietness that sent shivers up everyone’s spine; it was as if the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees.

“Run,” Mindy says, but before anyone can move, the door opens, and Ghostface pushes Quinn’s body out of the door, causing it to land on Anika, knocking her to the ground.

Ghostface charges out of the room and swings his knife at Mindy, cutting her arm. You push Tara into the kitchen as you grab a bat from the corner of the room. You run towards him and quickly swing it; the sound of metal meeting bone rings throughout the apartment as he collapses onto the ground.

“Come on,” you command as you grab Tara’s hand and pull her towards the door, flinging it open as you rush everyone out of the apartment. You do a quick headcount, and when you reach head number five, you shut the door and follow everyone downstairs.

Once outside, everyone regroups with their loved ones; Anika and Chad both check on Mindy’s arm as Sam holds Tara close to her chest. You walk toward Tara and Sam, and when your girlfriend sees you, she pulls away from Sam’s grasp and throws her body at you, pulling you into a crippling hug. You smile at the contact and kiss her head, thanking all the gods that your Tara was safe in your arms.

[obviousflirtations]

Zero Gravity (Jack Hughes x Snowboarder OC)

In which Maisie Johnson, professional snowboarder and known force in the snowboarding world, somehow falls for a 'pretty boy hockey player'. Jack Hughes finds the one girl who makes him feel like he's on his toes because she matches his energy. This is my first time writing a Jack Hughes fic, so please bear with me as I figure this out. This is the first part to a multi-part story, and this is more so background on our lovely main character, Maisie.

Maisie Johnson was many things; cocky to a fault on the slopes, confident in quiet way where her body language radiated it and pretty closed off if you weren't close to her.

She had grown up snowboarding, even though she was from New Jersey. Her parents had moved her out to Colorado and the rest was history. She remembered bits and pieces of living in Jersey, like that the Giants sucked, and she didn't like the Jets.

When she got to Colorado, the snow hit her quick and she wanted to live in it. She saw someone launch themselves from a ramp, twisting and spinning like a superhero and her first thought was I want to do that. By Christmas, a Burton Chopper was under the tree, second hand of course because she was 5 and they didn't know if it would stick.

At 8, she going to camps and sending jumps she couldn't land, all while smiling and wanting to do it all over again.

By 10, she was competing and by 12, she was medaling.

By fifteen, she was travelling internationally, had a few sponsors (Burton was a big one for her, she cried when they reached out to make a deal), and her name was being whispered around the industry like she was the next big thing.

At 16, she had her first Winter X-Games invite and she signed a deal with Red Bull.

By 17, she qualified for her first Winter Olympics in two events. Big Air and Superpipe, because nothing screamed mentally stable like intentionally flinging yourself in 50 feet into the air while trusting your body to spin around and travelling about 90 feet forward and enjoying 22-foot-high ice walls. Then came home with two gold medals.

The brunette found herself back in New Jersey after the Olympics, her 18th birthday having just passed. She was looking to hopefully get an apartment there, just to have a place that wasn't her parent's house in Colorado to go to when her schedule died down.

The media tour had finally ended, and she was happy to have a break from constantly being in front of a camera and being 'on' all the time. So, it was natural she was mentally cursing her manager for telling someone in the New Jersey Devils franchise she'd be happy to go to a Devils game and maybe humor their social media team in a collab. She liked hockey, she really did, but she was more of an Avalanche fan, having grown up watching that team more.

So, she threw on a red Burton sweatshirt and black leggings (because that was par for the course with her) because no one told her she needed to dress up. Her hair was thrown into a low messy bun, her front pieces of hair out, and called it good enough. And she put on just enough makeup, which was code for mascara and chap stick, to look presentable, before slipping on a pair of well-loved gym shoes and going out the door.

She checked her phone when she walked up to the arena, Prudential was nice, but she had never been to a Devils game before and had no idea where she needed to go. Eventually she found where she was supposed to be, got a lanyard that made her feel important, and sat in a box seat.

She had been told, by someone else in the box, that there was a really good rookie on the team, a guy named Jack who wore number 86. She just hummed in response and looked at the ice, like it wasn't really worth her time to know that, but she did watch for him.

As the game progressed, she would admit to herself that he had good movement and a very good sense for the game. Not to mention, he was cute. But he was getting bullied on the ice like he had a target on his back. Each time she was him hit the boards she wanted to wince for him, but he still got up and kept going.

By the time the buzzer sounded, Maisie was being ushered out of the box by a very official looking Devils' employee to another area of the arena. She let out a quiet sigh before mentally preparing herself to be 'on' the rest of the evening.

[brainynbrightinc]

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[samkerrworshipper]

nails | katie mccabe x reader

warnings: absolute smutty filth, cunnilingus, dildos, strap ons, fluffiness

Katie clunked her way through the hallway, so incredibly desperate just to set her eyes on you. She had just gotten back from Ireland camp, and you were always the best part of returning. You made her feel at home, no matter where she was. The warmth of your smile, the way you made any room light up, the way your body felt against hers, the way you did absolutely everything to make Katie feel like she was as exceptional as you thought she was. She slung her bag down next to the front door, slipping her shoes off and toeing them onto the rack that you had put beside the door to try and organise Katie’s slightly excessive shoe collection.

You heard the front door closing behind her, and felt an overwhelming happiness wash over you. You waited patiently by the stove top, stirring the pot of Carbonara, one of Katie’s favourites, your dish almost done and ready for the two of you to sit down and eat. You always loved to welcome Katie home with a meal that reminded her of home, reminded her of family and memories with you. The carbonara was an old recipe of her mothers, that had been given to you when Katie had sustained an ankle injury and had been specifically yearning for her family and her mothers food. You’d tried your hardest to make the house as homey as possible, lighting candles all over your lounge room and kitchen, folklore playing faintly in the background, most of the lights turned down so that the house was nice and calm. It was always smartest to stimulate Katie as little as possible after camp, she was so tired, so overworked, so sore from the tireless work of captaining her team fearlessly, when she came home you tried to let her be as vulnerable with you as she needed.

You shivered a little bit when Katie’s arms wrapped around your waist, around one of her hoodies that she’d left you with as a reminder of her. She pressed her head into your neck, taking a deep breath of you, your scent, your warmth, your body, you. She could get drunk off of just your scent, off of your energy, you were absolutely everything to her, everything to her in every single universe.

“Smells good.”

Katie’s voice was a rumble against your neck, an almost silent murmur quietened by the skin her lips were pressed against. She pressed a litter of pecks across the skin, finding solace in the feeling of your golden skin.

“It’s almost done.”

Katie slipped her hands under her hoodie that you were wearing, there was nothing she loved more than seeing you in her clothes, you went from a 10 to an 11 when you chose to adorn one of her old Ireland hoodies or jerseys when you came to watch her play. She raked her hands up and down your hips, positively enraptured by the feeling of having you back in her arms. All of a sudden though, you pivoted on your heels, turning with wide eyes to look at Katie, one of your own hands dropping to grasp hers and drag it out from under the material, revealing something absolutely treacherous.

“What the fuck are these?”

Katie’s lip rose up into a smirk, the tips of her lips curving upwards as she studied the complete shock and horror that had washed over your face, your eyes searching her hands furiously as you took in Katie’s new addition.

“Whatcha talking about darl?”

You glared at Katie, pulling her hand up to her own face so she was forced to look at the monstrosities that were now attached to your girlfriend.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Katie’s face dropped at your accusation.

“Darling of course not, why would you ask that?”

Katie Irish drawl was heavy as she rushed to defend herself, you just glared back at her.

“Girlfriend code, we don’t do long nails, what the actual fuck are these?”

You glared at Katie’s bright green, glittery talons. They were quite pretty, you could admit that, but they were fucking long, and terrifyingly sharp looking, the square cut gel reflecting and staring back up at you like a wild animal about to attack.

“We all got them after the Albania game baby, to celebrate, what was I supposed to do?”

Your eyes widened in absolute shock and annoyance at your girl's puppy dog eyes.

“Say no, say that your girlfriend is going to make you sleep on the couch until you go and get them removed.”

Katie’s pout only grew bigger, her eyes positively shining as she bit her lip and frowned at you.

“Baby, are you scared that I can’t pleasure you without my hands?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes almost burst open with the implication from Katie’s words.

“If you think that I’m letting you anywhere near my pussy with those things as extremities than your fucking wrong McCabe, I’m serious about you sleeping on the couch until their removed from your body.”

Katie just rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around your waist only for you to shake them off and turn back to the stove, returning to stirring the pasta and sauce mix in the pot.

“Baby, you are seriously doubting my abilities if you think that I rely on my fingers to make you happy.”

The sex when Katie got back from camp was incomparable, absolutely exquisite. The two of your bodies just connected, and when you’d been away from each other for extended periods of time re learning the feeling of each other's body was always unbeatable, there was a relaxed rhythm to it, something so incredibly beautiful and real about it. It was raw, sometimes there were tears, or sweet nothings whispered under the light of the stars and confessions of love. It was everything that the poets wrote about, everything that you heard about when your grandparents told you about falling in love with someone. That was why you felt so royally betrayed in this moment, you could never be mad at Katie for very long, even on the days she decided to be a complete dickhead, but right now you were pissed off and if Katie was smart she would have left you alone, but she decided to push it.

She entwined her hands around your waist, hanging them loosely below your hips and before you could protest, pressing her lips to your neck and beginning to suck on the skin. You froze at the complete shock from the sensation, there was nothing you wanted more than to give in, but the stubbornness in your veins wouldn’t allow you too. You shook Katie off of your body.

“The table is set, I’m about to plate up, go and sit down.”

Your verse was stern, almost mom-like, something that sent shivers down Katie’s spine and had her heading directly towards your dining table, in an uncharacteristically shy manner. She hated when she pissed you off, hated it even more when it was for particularly stupid reasons.

She wasn’t left by her lonesome for long, you followed her to the table fairly quickly, two bowls of pasta and garlic bread in your hands. You carried them like a waitress, a talent that Katie had never been sure how’d you’d acquired but she was grateful all the same. You placed her bowl down in front of her before taking your own seat, directly across from Katie.

“So, how was the flight?”

As much as you were ticked off with Katie, dinner was always a truce. It was the half an hour every night that the two of you had to yourselves, where you could talk about your day or the game or anything else that was going on. It was what you and Katie had agreed on when you’d gotten married, that no matter how hard either of your days had been, you would always sit down for dinner together.

“We had some turbulence, but it was fine.”

Katie was quick to tuck into her meal, she always was, you swore she was always hungry.

“How are you feeling, body, arm, head? I could have picked you up from the airport if you needed me too.”

You were constantly worried about Katie. As the Arsenal physio, and as her wife. You hated always being the worried wife on the sidelines, especially watching games like the Albania one were the conditions were anything but playable.

“I didn’t want to bother you, the tricep is sore and I have to go get scans tomorrow just to check that it hasn’t worsened any more.”

You nodded, you already knew that, you were Katie’s physio, you were consulted on all of her medical things but it comforted you somehow hearing anything come out of Katie’s mouth, you could spend hours just listening to her voice filling a room.

“You’d never bother me, better than you catching an uber or whatever.”

Communication with Katie was an ongoing work in progress, even years into your relationship she still struggled to voice her needs sometimes. She was just the kind of girl who always worried about everyone but herself, she was always obsessed with putting your needs above her own, and it drove you insane sometimes.

“It was fine, Lucy dropped me home. How have the pups been?”

You and Katie fell into comfortable conversation whilst you ate, talking about your work with the acl crew and Katie’s work with the Irish team, it was a comfortable lull, just pure interest between the two of you.

“I’ve set up a movie and snacks on the couch.”

The topic arose when the both of you had finished with dinner, Katie had tried to pick up the dishes but you refused, it was her night to relax and you were happy to deal with the dishes for one night.

Katie padded off to the lounge room and you rushed into the kitchen, rising off the dishes and sliding them into the dishwasher as quickly as humanly possible before jogging through to the living room to join Katie on the couch.

She welcomed you with open arms, draping the blankets over your body before clicking play on Happy Gilmore. You let Katie take the lead on wrapping her arms around you, her long strong arms enveloping you and making you seem like a dwarf in her arms.

You didn’t even make it through the starting credits before Katie’s hands started to roam, her nails travelling down from your hips, to your sweatpant covered thighs, then back up to your covered hips and ribs, slowly raking up and down. It was so slow that it was almost unnoticeable, especially underneath the fluffy blanket that the two of you were enjoying, but you felt it. You tried to ignore it, didn’t allow your body to react to Katie’s clear want, but when her hands made it to the inside of your thighs you couldn’t help but pivot from off of your ass, up onto your knees and straddling Katie’s hips.

“I told you no until those talons aren’t a part of you.”

You tried to keep your face as stern as possible, the voice you used with the girls on the team when you were working them through their pt plans in the gym.

“Baby, you can’t be serious, do you really think that I can’t please you without using my hands?”

You kept your face stern, even with the slightly taboo topic that Katie was broaching, that would normally have you breaking out into a fit of giggles or smiles.

“Katie, those things are fucking terrifying, what are they, one, two inches?”

You pulled her hands up again, measuring the lengths of her nails besides your own fingers, the extra extensions on her fingers almost being as long as the distance between your first knuckle and second one. It was terrifying, the kind of nails that drag queens wore. Katie and you had never had this issue, the both of you worked in professions that meant you couldn’t have long nails. Yours was personal preference, considering the amount of massages you gave every day it was just easier to keep your nails short, and normally Katie’s nails were short for football, so this problem had never arose, but now it was and it was horrific.

“Baby, there are things in our drawer that are far bigger, I never would have seen you as being scared of a little size, especially considering our dildo collection.”

You flushed at Katie’s cocky words, it was true, you weren’t exactly a stranger to bigger sized… toys, but her nails were hardly toys, they were fucking weapons.

“Katie I am not joking.”

She smirked from her position below you, a big broad grin that you so desperately wanted to kiss off of her face, but you kept your self restraint.

“But baby, I got you a new one whilst I was away, Ireland green like my nails.”

You shivered directly from your core, straight up to your spine, the trembles crossing across every bone and nerve in your body.

“Katie, go to your room.”

She rolled her eyes at your attempt at chastising her, she knew that you were on your last thread, so close to being tipped over the edge, she was so good at doing that, compromising you when you least wanted to.

“But baby, don’t you want to show me how good you can ride my dick?”

As soon as the words left her mouth you were a goner, and she knew it, she was so fucking cocky like that.

“Katie.”

Your words came out as a whine, something that Katie was slightly satisfied with but also took as her cue.

“What do you call me, baby? Don’t whine at me, you want me to show you how good I am without my hands? Then let me baby, let me treat your pussy so well and prove to you that I definitely don’t need my hands to please my wifey.”

Katie’s thick Irish accent was laid on so deep, just the way that made you drip from your core and everywhere.

“Daddy.”

This time you were rewarded by being silenced with her lips, her hips reaching upwards to meet your own, so she had the leverage to kiss you. It was a dominating kiss, one that Katie very quickly took control of, her tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against the back of your mouth as she roughened the kiss and started to find rhythm in the movements against your lips. It was then, when you were at your very weakest that Katie’s hand reached up under your shirt, swiftly un-clipping your bra and her hands going directly to your nipples, toying with the metal bar almost immediately. It had been Katie’s idea for you to get them, and you happily agreed once you realised just how much it would please her. The process had been painful, and the recovery had been hell, but once they had healed they had easily become Katie’s favourite part of you. She loved every part of you, but absolutely no part of your body would compare to your boobs. One tug at the cold metal had you moaning openly into her mouth, it was almost embarrassing, the amount of control Katie had over you even from below you, but right now you weren’t really bothered, just completely obsessed with the feeling of having Katie’s undivided attention on you.

“Get up baby, let me get on my knees for you and show you exactly what this mouth can do.”

Katie removed her lips from your mouth pushing you up off of her hips so you were flung down onto the couch, Katie slipping off of the pillows and down onto the floor, directly onto her knees and not minding very much about the fact that her body seemed to ache a little bit more from her position. She didn’t waste any time thinking about her achy muscles though, instead getting straight to work and pulling your legs apart so she could sit in between your legs.

She reached for the hem of your sweatpants, finding absolutely zero pushback from you as you lifted up our hips to allow her to slip the pants and your thong out from under you. She was remwarded with the positively dripping sight of your pussy, your desire glistening all over your lips and the trimmed bush that covered your mound.

“So wet baby, and I haven’t even touched you, going to show you just how much I can do without these fingers.”

Katie’s hand snaked its way back up your stomach, finding it’s way back up to your boob and fondling it gently with her fingers and blunt nails. The sensation was amazing, something that you would never even dream of feeling.

“Katie please- just fucking do something.”

Katie’s eyes darted up to you, her head cocking at you.

“Baby, I know that you haven’t seen me in a few weeks, but that’s no way to ask me to help you out, you can either do it the nice way, and beg like a good girl, or you’ll get nothing at all.”

Katie’s spare hand fell to your thigh, kneading the skin gently with her thumb, looking up at you with patient eyes and a cocked eyebrow.

“Please daddy, please, please use your tongue on me and show me how good you can make me feel, please.”

Normally, when Katie was feeling like being a little bit tougher, when she was being calculated and cunning about riling you up she’d asked for more, but neither of you had the energy or patience for that, tonight just wasn’t one of the nights where you would do laps of teasing, tonight was about you having your brains fucked out by a very horny Katie.

“Such a good girl when you use your words, hmm?”

The feeling of Katie’s breath on your dripping warmth was incredible, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of her tongue connecting with your lips. Just because she didn’t feel like riling you up verbally didn’t mean that she wasn’t up to riling you up with her tongue, and she did just that. She started with the outside of your lips, her tongue flattening out to cover as much skin as possible, which should have been amazing, but it was nowhere near enough stimulation for you, and you told her as much with your hand securing on the roots of her ponytail and trying to direct her to the part of you that yearned for her the most.

Katie didn’t budge though, she was stubborn and didn’t let anyone boss her around in the bedroom, especially you. She pulsated her tongue against your skin, leaving you desperatw for more, and just when she began to feel your thighs clenching, seeking more, she finally met your pool of wetness.

You cried out in ecstasy, the sound of your moans filling your living room as your hands found whatever part of Katie, clutching onto her and holding on for dear life, enjoying the ride that was your pleasure high.

Katie’s tongue moved back and forth from your hole and sensitive bud, her intensity and approach changing between the two spots as she towed you closer to the edge, your moans and clenching hole a clear sign of the ecstasy cloud that you were approaching. Just as your moans started to get breathier, and your legs started to tighten around Katie’s head, did she remove her mouth. It was absolute agony for you, and you let her know with the annoyed cry that left your lips as soon as she lost contact with you.

“Fuck, Katie, fuck, not fair, was so close, fuck me.”

Katie smirked up at you, she knew that you wouldn’t love her for leaving you on the edge, but she also knew the two of you were far too tired to go for multiple rounds, and she wanted to rock your world in multiple ways before the both of you collapsed for the night, and if that meant depriving you of your orgasm once, then she wasn’t completely opposed.

“Go to the bedroom, strip on the bed, I think it’s about time I introduce you to our new friend.”

Even though you felt slightly legless on your fucked out body, you rushed off towards the master bedroom, terrified that if you took too long you would be robbed of whatever it was that Katie had planned for you. You flung her hoodie off and onto the floor of your bedroom, not really bothered whatsoever about the uncleanliness of your actions and more concerned with the wetness that was now dripping down your legs, a mixture of Katie’s slobber and your own arousal.

Just as you had climbed onto the bed, Katie sauntered in, and you swore that your eyes almost popped out of your head at the sight that you were gifted with, it was truly a picture worthy of being hung in the Louvre.

Your wife, standing butt ass naked in front of you, besides the deep Ireland green glittery dildo that was hanging from between her legs. You almost came just from the sight, a big lump developing in your throat as Katie strutted towards you. There was a lot to take in, the fact that she’d seemingly coordinated her nails with the dildo, or vice versa. The fact that it looked about two inches longer than anything you’d ever taken, and at least an inch wider, and the image that was Katie walking like a model on a runway directly to you. She had the cheshire grin plastered to her face, it only grew the closer she got to your bedside.

“Move, I want you to ride me, you can use the head board as support.”

You just nodded at her, like a complete goldfish as you shifted away from the pillows to allow her to take a seat against the head board, the dildo jutting up shamelessly from the spot between her legs.

“C’mon cowgirl, don’t make me wait.”

You jumped into action, climbing into Katie’s lap and hovering on top of the dildo, securing one of your hands on the edge of the headboard and one on Katie’s shoulder. It was then that she began to push you down onto the silicone dick, slowly impaling you on the bright green toy.

“Ngnh, fuck Daddy, so good, fill me up please.”

Katie could never say no to you, especially when you asked so politely, so she continued to ease you down onto the dick, allowing you to feel every single ridge and bump across the shaft and feel the stretch that your pussy was very quick to adjust to and accommodate.

It didn’t take much force from Katie to get you to take the whole dick, the centre of gravity doing most of the work to get you down and sat directly onto Katie. Once your pussy did suck in the whole thing, Katie allowed you to adjust for as long as you needed, her lips meeting your own in a bruising kiss that left both of your lips kiss swollen when you broke a part to begin moving.

Katie’s favourite position was having you ride her, there was something so personal about it, and she loved the reaction that it got from you.

Your knuckles turned ghost white as you began to slide up and down the length of Katie’s dildo, moans that were more sinful then the devil flowing freely from your mouth as you started to ride her and grind down against her hips. Katie just watched in awe and complete appreciation, the sight of you, an absolute sexual goddess of her dreams sliding up and down a glittery green dildo was something that she never would have even thought up in her wildest dreams. Your head thrown back in ecstasy, your long blonde locks flying in every which way as you began to ride out the high that you’d been so desperate for.

“Fuck-fuck, daddy can I cum? Please fuck, please can I cum all over your dick?”

Katie figured that she’d edged you once, and whilst she knew you could withstand far more than that, it wasn’t what either of you needed tonight, you needed tender kisses, sweet nothings, soft gestures that the two of you always shared after a little bit too long apart.

“Cum baby, I’ve got you.”

If your knuckles hadn’t already been white against the headboard then they whitened even further, complete overwhelming white that seemed to cloud your vision and put stars across your eyes as you shuddered in Katie’s arms, the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm washing over you and leaving you completely limp in her arms. Once you’d come down and the aftershocks had rid themself of your body Katie very gently lifted you up off of the toy and placed your boneless body down on the comforter beside her, slipping the harness of her hips quickly and then wrapping her arms directly around you, allowing you to waken from your haze in the warmth of her muscles and body.

“What did I say, I’m a woman of great talents even when my hands aren’t in use.”

Katie’s joke fell on almost deaf ears, your body to blissed out to even truly begin to acknowledge what she was saying to you.

“Shove it McCabe, unless you don’t want round two in the morning before you go to the nail salon then I’d move to cuddling your wife and telling her just how much you missed her and just what was going through your mind when you were buying that dildo.”

Katie’s face lit up, her arms lifting the cuvet over your bodies as she began to whisper all of rhe deep fantasies that had been playing through her mind in the time that you’d spent apart, fantasies that you were sure would be reenacted in the morning or tomorrow night after some much needed tlc.

[wolsalwastaken]

So, as you do, I was on the new version of thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and I’ve figured out every. Single. Secret. Code. I. Could.

Now with the help of the community, I am expanding this list! Please post passwords in the comments sections or reblog if I have not yet mentioned them! You will, of course, receive credit for your discoveries! Nerds unite! At the very bottom, you will find a full list of citations I used for the passwords. Any password that is un-cited is one I found myself :)

Spoilers for this version of the website. Keep reading at your own discretion, as these are spoilers if you wanted to solve it yourself.

This post will continually be updated as I find new codes and ciphers to solve and new passwords, stay tuned as this is a masterpost of this iteration of the website!

So, here’s all the places to click on screen for Easter eggs:

And here’s a list of all the different passcodes I’ve found to work on the computer. If multiple words are listed it’s because they activate the same thing. Brackets are not part of the pswd. (c) means that the person I learnt it from is listed below. If there is no (c), then I found it.

Cipher

Triangle (click 3 times)

Bill/Bill Cipher

Stanford/Ford/Sixer

Fiddleford/McGucket

Filbrick

Mason

Dipper (click 5 times)

Mabel (click 12 times)

Wendy

Robbie

Gideon (2 possible results)

The Book Of Bill

Alex Hirsch/Hirsch

Monster

Mystery Shack

TJ Eckleburg

Hey nerd

Divorce/breakup

Theraprism

Soos

Disney/mickey mouse/disneyland (c)

Hectoring

Axolotl

Stanley/Stan (click 8 times)

Gravity Falls

Pines

Geometry/algebra/math/greek/greece/trigonometry/shape (c)

Conspiracy

God/help me/frlliam (c)

Triangle

Ducktective

Waddles

Morality

Portal

Love/boyfriend

(Literally any word of profanity, i.e sex or fuck)/Ted Cruz (c)

Death

Dorito/chip/nacho (c)

Skeleton

Life

Weird

Reality

The universe

Baby/baby bill/lalalalala/mommy/daddy (c)

Rat

Urban legends/horror/creepypasta (c)

Blind eye

Crypto/NFT/gyatt/skibidi/fortnite/Elon/rizz (c)

Journal 3

Journal 2

Journal 1

Theory/that’s just a/matpat (c)

Question

Answer

Piñata

FBI/NSA

Blendin Blandin

Abuelita

Weirdmageddon

Toby Determined

History

Sorry

Cursed

They’ll see/they’ll all see/I see

Cryptogram codex

Curse wittebane

Fordtramarine

Disco girl

Ad astra per aspera

Forget the past

Torture mentally

Hotxolotl

Scrimbles

Lies

Paper is book skin

Euclid

Dionarap (c)

Booberry (c)

Unreality (c)

Vallis cineris (c)

Caryn

Euclydia (c)

Scalene (c)

Even his lies are lies (c)

Stodehttcennoc (c)

Emmalinebutternubbins (c)

Dispense my treat

Just fit in (c)

Nothing

Something

Ciphertology (click 2 times)

Well well well being (c) (click 4 times)

One eyed king (c)

Titans blood (c)

Blanchin (c)

Suck it merlin (c)

Tantrum (c)

You can’t kill an idea (c)

Kook (c)

Naitsuaf (c)

Oroborous (c)

Giffany (click 6 times)

Who are you (c)

R34lity

Fixinit1

Love ya bro (c)

Tad strange (c)

Liar lyre (c)

Xgqrthx (c)

Peak (c)

Platinum peak (c)

Glass shard beach (c)

Cray cray (c)

Deer teeth (c)

Season 1 (c)

Season 2 (c)

Season 3 (c)

Gun (c)

Irregular (c)

Seven eyes (c)

Xyler/Craz (c)

Yes (c)

Justblendin (c)

Black sheep (c)

Baaaa (c)

Union made (c)

29121239168518 (c)

Grebley hemberdreck (c)

3466554 (c)

Tinsel snake (c)

333 sun dapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611 (c)

Mountain don't (c)

Riddle (c)

Burnside (c)

No (c)

Llib (c)

When will I die (c) (click once a day)

Clone/paper jam/Tyrone (c)

Multilevel Mark (c)

Goodnight Sally (c)

Tourist trap (c)

The duchess approves (c)

Scientology (c)

Meow (c)

Shave your grandma (c)

Burned inside (c)

Sevral times (c)

Easter egg (c)

Oh yes they both (c)

Kings of new jersey (c)

Destruction is a form of creation (c)

Fuck you Alex/fuck Alex (c)

Rubberhose (c)

Am I blanchin (c)

Card (c)

Bye gold (c)

Globnar (c)

Kubrick (c)

Not a phase (c)

Virus (c)

Spookemups (c)

You're insane (c)

Owl trowl (c)

L is real 2401 (c)

Occurremus iterum (c)

Family matters (c)

Harold’s ramblings (c)

Is hell real (c)

Is there an afterlife (c)

Dippy Fresh (c)

Justblendin (c)

Here’s a link to the entire 15 minute video of me going over all the Easter eggs and codes, so if you don’t wanna bother doing it (fair) then here ya go! Had to post via Instagram because no other social media lets me post long videos, oh well. (As I find more codes, I may make a part 2 video of me solving those on video)

Link here (part 1)

Credits/sources:

@sage-nebula (Dionarap, vallis cineris)

@dottyistired (Booberry, unreality)

@vlada-elya (Ted Cruz)

@cloudofcaffeine (Euclydia, Scalene)

@putadapower (Even his lies are lies, oroborous)

@dippers101 (Stodehttcennoc, emmalinebutternubbins)

@ren-is-real (Just fit in)

@hopefully-maybe-abby (I see)

@towacletruck (Well well well being, one eyed king, titans blood, blanchin, suck it merlin, tantrum, you can’t kill an idea, kook)

@cskv11 (Naitsuaf)

@eazy-peazy54 (Breakup, gyatt, who are you, r34lity, fixinit1, love ya bro, tad strange, liar lyre, xgqrthx, giffany, peak, platinum pas, glass shard beach, cray cray, help me, deer teeth, lalalalala, season 1, season 2, season 3, Mickey Mouse, gun, irregular, horror, creepy pasta, seven eyes, yes, trigonometry, xyler, craz, justblendin, black sheep, baaaa, skibidi, Fortnite, union made, 29121239168518, grebley hemberdreck, 3466554, tinsel snake, 333 sun dapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611, mountain don't, burnside, riddle, no, llib, when will I die, Elon, clone, multilevel mark, goodnight sally, paper jam, tyrone, tourist trap, the duchess approves, shape, meow, scientology, shave your grandma, nacho, rizz, daddy, mommy, burned inside, sevral times, easter egg, oh yes they both, kings of new jersey, destruction is a form of creation, rubber hose, card, am I blanchin, fuck you Alex, fuck Alex, fuck you, bye gold, nsa, globnar, Disneyland, Kubrick, not a phase, virus, spookemups, that's just a, you're insane, owl trowel, L is real 2401, occurremus iterum, frilliam, family matters, Matpat, Harold’s ramblings)

@delusionalpaper (Is hell real, is there an afterlife)

@thisisnotawebsitedotcom-com (Dippy fresh)

@/soldofficialyt on YouTube, Justblendin

HUGE shoutout to @eazy-peazy54 for providing so many codes! Seriously, thank you so much for your amazing post compiling them!

[julymusings]

Dick Grayson x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem; like with Jason's hc post, I tried to keep it non-specific to any country, hope i achieved that😬

also it's barely mentioned but as a special treat: reader is trained in Indian classical dance😏😏😏

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

He loves watching Bollywood movies, but gets especially into the music…like really into it

This man becomes OBSESSED with Shreya Goshal; you come early one night to find him singing along to both parts of the duet Manwa Laage from Happy New Year while doing the dishes (which, if you don't know, is a very high-pitched song). He's so off-key but so into it you don't have the heart to tell him that your neighbors texted you to ask if a feral cat got loose in your apartment💀

Then it escalates— he tries to learn Hrithik Roshan’s dance from Dhoom Again (which has nothing to do with the fact that you told him Hrithik Roshan was your childhood crush)

(if ur not desi, it starts at timestamp 0:38 I highly recommend watching it for full context it's incredible— if you are then I know you already know what i'm talking about LMAOO)

And since you're a dancer you learn it with him but he’s genuinely upset that it’s so easy for you but so hard for him

"I should be getting this! Do you know how bendy my body is?!"

For some reason I feel like he would love the strong female lead-type movies (probably because he’s so eldest daughter coded) so movies like Queen, Dangal, Chak De India, that’s his jam, but he loves Kal Ho Naa Ho when he needs a good cry

If you’ve ever seen those tiktoks of families who dress up their dogs and cats in traditional wear…you’re doing that with Haley 100%

I think Dick is familiar with hair oiling because of his Romani background, but doesn’t start doing it until you guys are dating because you do it regularly so he just starts joining you

OR he does do it, but…badly. with one of those over-priced chemical-filled Sephora brands, and he doesn’t even apply it correctly. The first time you see him do it you’re legitimately offended. You spend the entire afternoon teaching him the right way, first taking him to the Indian market (they’re in new jersey so you know there’s plenty💀) and collecting all the ingredients and explaining the benefit of each one, then going back to his place and showing him how to properly toast the herbs and spices and then warm the oil with them, how to massage it all throughout his scalp and find all the pressure points.

He’s sooo attentive and genuinely interested, plus he just loves how passionate you are about this

He loves pani puri (obviously, he’s dick and they’re balls WHO SAID THAT)

But seriously, you make them and he’s just throwing them back non stop

He calls you rani (queen), meri jaan (my love), pyaari (cutie I think)

Dick learns how to drape your sari for you— he knows where all the pins go, where to make the folds and where to tuck in the fabric. He loves how happy it makes you and how you twirl in the mirror when he’s done. Once your relationship gets more serious, he loves to buy you new ones until you have all different styles for every occasion

He loves when you wear payals. You wear them once for an event, and he encourages you to wear them around the house because the sound they make when you walk is just so pretty

Another reason why he LOVES watching you dance. The ghungroos you wear make it all the more mesmerizing

Given how flexible he is from his acrobat training, he’s great at yoga. Much better than you, and you often require his help to get the positions right. He doesn’t mind, though, as long as it means he gets to have his hands on you as he guides your body into the correct stance

Of course he’s learning your language so he can communicate with your relatives. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though

Most teaching sessions end with tears and/or yelling

“WHY ARE THERE SO MANY POSSESSIVE PRONOUNS??? WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE SPECIFIC SCENARIO FOR EACH ONE????”

“I DON’T KNOW DICK THERE JUST ARE”

In the least foot fetish-y way possible, he thinks the tradition of wearing toe rings is so attractive. When you tell him that only married women wear them, he considers proposing just for that reason (I mean he already has the ring, so what’s he waiting for?)

Speaking of marriage (😏), he’s so excited for you to get his name hidden somewhere in your mehendi/henna. When you’re getting it done, he keeps trying to peek into the room to see if he can spot it until the artist gets fed up and locks him out😭

On your wedding night the first thing he does when you get a moment alone is start searching for it

You told him about the tradition of stealing the groom's shoes beforehand. You did not, however, tell him about the bargaining portion of the tradition

So when he and his siblings are "looking" for them (come on now, they're world class detectives, but they don't want to ruin the fun) and ultimately "give up" like "okay! you got me! where are they!" and your family starts talking about a 5-figure ransom to see them again...

He's going insane trying to tell them that his father is the billionaire, not him, but your relatives could not care less. And the whole time he knows exactly where they are but he doesn't want to be that person and make all your relatives hate him😭

He manages to coax them down to 4-figures

He wanted 3, but after your youngest cousin read him to filth ("Oh the trust fund nepo-baby can't spare some change? Is this the kind of husband you are? Is this how you plan to support your wife?"), he had no choice

You KNOW he’s doing a dance number at the reception. Bonus points if it's the Dhoom Again dance

And of course he wants you two to do a number together. When he tells you as much, he thinks it'll be fun and silly and a way to spend time together— he's wrong.

Like a true Indian classical dance teacher, you are a DRILL SERGEANT. He gets transported back to his old Robin-training days, except Bruce is 8 inches shorter and wears 5 pounds of bells around his ankles. It's worth it for the end result, though.

You obviously eat him UP but he does a very good job

Which number? I'm SO glad you asked........

It's Kala Chashma

ok this really got away from me but i loved writing it. as for kala chashma i just thought it was funny😭but if you have any other songs you think would fit i would LOVE to hear

[rowdyluv]

Believe in Me — jh86

summary: in which the summer following Jack’s rookie year is coming to an end. Not only did his rookie year come with being shafted by the league as the biggest bust, but he managed to get painted as the biggest (and newest) playboy of the league. His personal management team, the team’s management, and PR step in to clear this all up, but it takes work from Jack.

warnings/points of importance: use of y/n, fem!reader x jack, use of nicknames for female character and for Jack, fake dating trope, oblivious pining trope(?), childhood friends, minor usage of foul language, creation of side original characters for plot, time jumps, memories inserted - tumblr’s intention and italics used to notate, inner thoughts marked with ‘..’ and italicized if they occur

word count: 4.32

notes: any names used for original characters that relate to someone’s name or closely relate to a person’s name is purely by happenstance. The names were rolled by random from a generator where I inserted random first and last names.

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn wooden planks of the back porch swing, her eyes following the lazy dance of the sunset as it descended behind the distant tree line. Her childhood home had changed so little over the years, the same comforting embrace of familiarity wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. The porch swing squeaked in a soothing rhythm as both her and Jack slowly swung, a nostalgic tune that had serenaded countless summer nights spent sharing secrets and laughter with Jack. The only other kid who had been in her grade when she moved in, well really one of the only other neighborhood children. The other two children in the neighborhood were his brothers. All three of which had become as much a part of her life as the very foundation of the house she grew up in.

She had spent all day out with his family by the pool, her mother insisted he come to their house for dinner though. Nothing to offer course for their life, well a year ago it wouldn’t have been.

"Do you want to talk about your new headline?" Y/n tried to hold back the hint of amusement in her tone but failed miserably. Jack's rookie season had just come to an end before the beginning of summer. In just a few months he had gone from the talk of the league as the number one draft pick to talk of the league as a "bust."

He was nothing close to a bust. It was just how the year fell.

Jack leaned back in the swing, the sun's final strokes of light for the day painting his cheekbones. He sighed; a heavy exhale filled with the weight of the rumors that had been following him like a dark shadow. "It's just how it's going to be now. You know how it is with the media. They're desperate to find a new angle to keep me going." There were a few moments of silence shared between them before he found the words to continue. "First, it's all about my game, how I'm not scoring enough or I'm not this hotshot star that every analyst built me up to be. Season ends and it's about my supposed love life." His voice was a mix of annoyance and defeat. He was used to being the center of attention, truthfully he strived to be in the center of attention. He just wasn't used to it always being negative attention.

"To be it all, I have this video chat meeting with public relations, franchise management, and my management team about some idea they have come up with to help bring attention away from everything." Jack groaned. "We have three days left of the summer before we drive back to Jersey, I don't want to spend one of them in meetings."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his forearm and leaning herself over on him. "It's okay, bubs. Maybe it's nothing too serious." But she could tell from the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched and the tension in his voice that he was already aware of what they had come up with. Or at least he had an idea. She didn't dare pry, they may be best friends, but Jack was clearly not ready to share his thoughts. "And... If it is serious I will be in Jersey this season to help you through it."

Jack gave her a grateful smile before standing up from the porch swing, stretching his arms out wide. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry about it tonight." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, a gesture that was as commonplace as breathing between the two of them. "Thanks for the pep talk, toots." He said, using the childhood nickname that never failed to make her smile despite the circumstances. "I should head back down the street to my parent's place. It's getting late."

As he turned to leave, the rising moon cast a cool glow over the yard, highlighting the tall blades of grass that danced with the intermittent breeze. Y/n watched him go, her mind racing with the implications of what might happen at that during his meeting tomorrow. Would they really suggest something so ridiculous? And if they did, how would Jack handle it?

Jack's footsteps grew fainter until they were swallowed by the night. The house, once alive with the echoes of their laughter, now felt eerily quiet. Y/n remained seated out on the swing, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt and concern. She knew Jack was strong, capable of taking on any challenge thrown his way, but the thought of him being manipulated into some scheme to save the face of the Devils franchise made her sick. Then she thought, what if they didn't call a meeting to manipulate him into anything? What if it's simply to offer suggestions on what he can do differently going forward?

Y/n eventually shut that portion of her brain off and headed inside herself. A long hot shower and her bed was calling her name.

The next day Jack sat in his father's home office, the room smelling faintly of cologne and leather, waiting for the others to join the video call. The space was a testament to his father's success, filled with trophies and framed newspaper articles from his own days as a star player and coach. It was both inspiring and daunting, a constant reminder of the legacy he and his brothers were trying to live up to. The computer screen flickered to life, displaying a Zoom call with a row of faces, some familiar, some not. His management team, PR reps, and a couple of team officials stared back at him, all expectant and poised.

Jack leaned back in the chair, his casual attire feeling woefully inadequate among the suits and professional backgrounds of his callers. He had taken his mother's advice and dressed comfortably, but now he wished he had at least put on a button-up shirt. He glanced down at his New Jersey Devils t-shirt, the logo stretched slightly across his chest. It was a fan favorite, one that had been thrown at him in excitement by a young fan at a game. It felt like a piece of armor, a symbol of his pride and commitment to the team, but today it just made him feel like he was the kid, and he was playing dress-up in his dad's old gear.

The meeting began with a round of forced smiles and awkward greetings. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/n's words from the night before echoed in his mind, a comforting whisper amidst the storm of uncertainty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whoever their absurd suggestion be his girlfriend when they had conjured up the fake relationship idea to "fix" his image.

"Jack, before we start, do you remember the guidelines I told you for this relationship or should we go over them again with everyone here?" The voice was cold and calculated, belonging to one of the stern-faced PR reps. Her eyes bore into him through the screen, demanding his full attention.

Jack's stomach lurched. He had hoped they would just come right out with what was new, news. "I think everyone is aware of what we're trying to achieve here, but please go ahead," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.

The stern-faced public relations rep, Ms. Castellanos, nodded curtly. "Good. So, the first guideline is that you two must be seen together at least three times a week. This includes public appearances such as dates, her being seen attending your games, and even casual outings like grocery shopping or walking the dog. That is if you or her have one."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at his half empty coffee mug. He didn't have a dog, but he still didn't know who this girl they paired him up with was. Plus, he didn't know if Y/n had picked up any new hobbies involving pets in her last year of college. It was never mentioned during their weekly calls or on visits. It would be important to know that since she’s going to be living with him.

"Jack, are you listening?" The voice brought him back to the present, the sternness of Ms. Castellanos' tone was unmistakable.

Jack swallowed down the anxiety that was bubbling up inside him and nodded in acknowledgement.

Ms. Castellanos continued, "Guideline two, and perhaps the most important one, is that the relationship must appear genuine. You must exhibit believable public affection and body language. This means holding hands, occasional kisses on the cheek, maybe a few on the lips if the situation calls for it. As for body language," the stone-cold lady stopped speaking, watching Jack carefully once more. "You're both young, attractive, and in the public eye. If you lean into each other, have your arms around each other's waist, or even occasionally rest your head on her shoulder, it'll look natural and convincing. The media will eat it up, and your image will be transformed from a lonely heartthrob to a lovestruck boyfriend in no time."

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, the thought of faking intimacy with someone he'd never met before was nerve-wracking, to say the least. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, trying to imagine how awkward the first kiss would be. He had never been one for faking emotions, especially something as intimate as love.

Ms. Castellanos continued, her voice unforgiving. "Guideline four is critical. The relationship must end with your girlfriend, and I stress this, must be the one to initiate the breakup. It should be done publicly and dramatically enough to make headlines, but not so much that it causes a scandal." She paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. "You cannot under any circumstances leave her. If it looks like you're the one who ended things, it'll only add fuel to the fire of your reputation. You need to be seen as the heartbroken party, the victim of a fickle heart. It'll humanize you, make you more relatable to the fans."

Jack felt his jaw clench at the coldness of the plan. He had agreed to a fake relationship to get the media off his back, but this was starting to feel like a script for a reality TV show gone wrong. "And what happens if we... I mean, if she gets tired of the whole thing?" He stumbled over his words, trying to maintain some semblance of respect for the stranger he was about to be romantically linked with.

"Ah, that's where guideline five comes into play," said Ms. Castellanos, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of her own cleverness. "We've prepared a non-disclosure agreement that she will be signing before the relationship begins. It's quite comprehensive and includes clauses for breaking it off in a controlled manner. She'll understand her role in this, Jack."

Jack's grip tightened around his coffee mug, the cheap porcelain feeling fragile under his thumb. "But who is she?" he repeated, his voice a little louder, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Ms. Castellanos' smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Her name is Elena Petrov," she said smoothly. "A local influencer with a clean reputation. She's been briefed on the situation and has agreed to help. She's a fan of the team and understands the importance of this for your career."

"No." Jack huffed out. gaining the attention of everyone on the call. Just the same as Jack, everyone else barely stayed tuned into her annoying voice. "She is the reason I am in this shit hole. Her friend is the last girl I was with. Elena took all the pictures. Maggie? A little help here." Jack pleaded with the IT media girl that for some miraculous reason was sitting in on the call.

"Oh. Uhm, yes. It took me days to get the pictures she put up taken down. And Mr. Hughes, we were able to prove they were edited after looking closer at them," Maggie spoke up, her voice shaky, probably from fear of interrupting the woman that could potentially ruin their lives with a tweet.

Ms. Castellanos' eyes darted from Jack to Maggie and back again, her displeasure clear. "Jack, this is non-negotiable. This is what's best for your career right now. You need to be seen as more than just a party boy. The sooner you start this relationship with Elena, the sooner we can start repairing your image," she said, her voice like a whip cracking through the tension in the room.

Jack's manager, Mr. Taylor, cleared his throat before speaking up, his tone measured and calm. "Perhaps there's another option we haven't considered. What about Y/n?" he suggested, glancing at Jack, who looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.

Ms. Castellanos raised an eyebrow. "Your childhood friend?" She sounded skeptical, but the video stream grew quiet, all eyes on Jack.

Jack nodded, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "Yeah, Y/n. We've been best friends since middle school. Everyone already thinks we're together. It'll be believable, and she's... she's not in the spotlight like Elena is. It'll keep things more low-key." He swallowed, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their friendship.

Ms. Castellanos leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Very well, Jack. We'll consider it. But you need to talk to her and make sure she's on board with this. The last thing we need is for her to spill the beans and ruin the whole charade."

Jack nodded, his heart racing. He knew Y/n would do anything for him but asking her to be his fake girlfriend was a big ask. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have. After the call ended, he let out a guttural groan due to frustration. He needed to go shoot some basketball or pucks before he talked Y/n, but he didn't have that time to waste. Instead of blowing off some of his stress he slipped on some shoes, kissed his momma goodbye, and headed out to the house he has visited time and time again.

The warm afternoon air was a major contrast to the coldness of the conversation he had just had. The streetlights flickered to life as Jack approached Y/n's house, the familiar path to her door as comforting as ever. He stopped in front of the door, the color of her door had changed since last summer, but the memories that lie behind it remained the same.

Jack took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing through his head. Only thing on his mind was the conversation they were about to have. Jack flinched as he realized how hard and urgent he had beat on her mother’s front door. His heart thudded against his chest, partially with the anticipation of her reaction to the proposal and because of how quickly he had walked down the block. Jack took a deep breath in an urgent need to calm himself and appear as normal as possible before he was face to face with her.

Before he could finish his internal mantra of calming himself, the front door swung open in a rush. He was slightly hoping it would somehow be one of her relatives, but there she was, looking up at him with her soft, hopeful eyes. Her hair messily tossed into a messy bun atop her head and a sprinkle of fresh freckles danced across her nose from spending the day in the sun with his family yesterday. She was wearing the momentous hoodie that he had gifted her before leaving last summer. A hoodie that held a lot in its threads for the two of them. For her, it now held a lot of silent screams and wiped away tears from the last year, but it still held their joint memories.

‘It originally had become Jack’s superstitious hoodie for a while. The lucky hoodie he would wear all the way up to when he would change for warm ups, then she would wear it. This superstition developed during the years of world juniors. The year he brought home the Gold, the superstition shifted. Jack had a “girlfriend” that entire season and she wasn’t fond of the idea of Jack and Y/n swapping clothes like they did. The games with the development program were when she noticed this happening. She confronted Y/n about having a useless crush on her boyfriend and she would be taking over wearing his hoodie from then on. Jack didn’t take lightly to it, that was his best friend, his biggest non-family supporter. So, he decided y/n would wear the hoodie the entire time, from the time they all got dressed for the day to after the game. Now, it’s hers entirely, his decision since he couldn’t be here for her and live out his dream. He wanted her to have a piece of him, but if be a piece of them. Once again, it has become her comfort item as it has been back then.’

She fiddled with the stretched out sleeves hanging over left hand anxiously as her right hand was still grasping the door knob.

"How was your meeting?" The words fell from her lips so fast she hadn't taken a moment to invite him inside. Y/n had sat out on the porch swing all morning waiting to hear from him. Seeing him now ignited her anxiety and her need to know.

Jack let out a simple laugh at her eagerness to know. He softly touched her side, giving a slight nudge as if to signal her to walk backwards into the house.

The coolness of the air conditioning kissing his skin. "It was... interesting," he said, his voice a mix of relief and dread.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She walked a few steps backwards with his guidance to allow him in, the old floorboards creaking under their weight. "Interesting as in good or interesting bad?"

Jack shrugged, his smile wavering as he let go of her and made his way into the living room. The same room where they had spent hours playing video games, watching movies, doing homework.

—Could he ask her to do this? What if it blows up in their faces and ruins everything. What if he ruins her? He’d never be able to live with himself for hurting her.

The couch looked inviting, but he knew better than to sit down without spilling his guts. "Well, it’s one of those ‘depends on how you take it’ interesting type situations..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering around the room.

Y/n looked at him, her eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. Her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. She could read the hesitancy written all across him. Starting with wanting to open up about his meeting. Which is something he's never had an issue with, at least with her, to not wanting to sit down. Almost as if, if he got too comfortable he would tell too much.

Taking a hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm she leaned her head on his upper arm. A common gesture between them. “Jackers?” She whispered so softly, he nearly missed it. He hummed in response coming out from where he drifted off too. She took a hold of his hand and softly pulled him down to take a seat on the couch with her.

“Jackers, just tell me. Did they come up with something ridiculous?"

Jack let out a small laugh , the sound hollow and forced. "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it," he whined, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "They want me to start a fake relationship with someone who I know is not going to help me. Then my manager suggested someone who would be great and I was for it because we already know each other but.." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction.

Y/n let go of his hand, in an unnatural reaction as they have been platonically physical since high school, "A fake relationship?" she echoed that one snippet. “With.. With who? Since I’ll be living with you I should be prepared for a new girl even if she is a fake girlfriend.”

Jack took a deep breath and looked up at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had never seen before. "Toots, I really don't know what to do about this. PR decided on Elena Petrov. B—”

“You mean the friend of the bitch who started this mess? No I’m sorry the two who started this mess? You’re going to pounce around all lovey with the girl who put you here?!” Y/n’s chest heaved up and down heavily. She watched Jack’s face twist in annoyance then soften.

“If you had let me finish… I flat out said no. I will not and am not going to do this plan with her. When I told everyone on the call right then that I wouldn’t, my manager suggested someone else. But I don’t know if they’ll do it. They seem pretty disappointed in me…” Jack kept his voice even and didn’t raise it. He knew how you felt about being yelled at and he couldn’t be the one to cause a panic attack because he got a little upset.

“Well, who did they suggest? Maybe I can help. As long as it’s not Elena..”

“They suggested you. They asked me if I thought you would do it or if I would like you to do it with me. But if you're upset or disappointed, I'll tell them no right now," Jack explained, his voice a low rumble of uncertainty. He started fishing his phone out of his pocket in case he had to call his manager.

Y/n felt her throat tighten as a knot formed, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had always been there for Jack, and he for her, but this was something entirely different. This was a line they hadn’t truly crossed, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to pretend to cross it again. "Jack, I..." she murmured looking down at her hands in her lap, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, I'll do it."

Jack's head snapped to look at her, his eyes failing to meet hers as she’s staring down, though a spark of hope igniting within him still. "You will?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "For you, I'll do it."

Jack's shoulders slumped with relief. He reached out to lift her head hesitantly so that he could meet her eyes with his. His eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, management can figure it out.”

Y/n forced a smile and nodding her head yes, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. The thrill of being able to go and do things with Jack was nice, but the dread of being scrutinized by females she didn’t know was already gnawing at her. "Besides, it's only for a couple of months, right?"

Jack's smile didn't part to show his teeth, it stayed tight lipped, evident he wasn't as enthused as his tone of voice was letting on. "Yup! Just for a couple of months."

"Okay, we can totally pull this off. It will be like playing pretend, remember?" She nudged him with her elbow, trying to lighten the mood with a memory from their childhood. More so for herself than him.

"You mean like when we got married under that old oak tree at my grandparents' house in the summer between sixth and seventh grade?" Jack nudged her back.

"Yup when you only agreed to get pretend married so you could get your first kiss."

She let a little giggle slip out as she reminisced on the memory of her and Jack as kids under the oak tree.

A young Jack with his signature smirk standing at the ‘altar’ with the “preacher Luke”. Jack didn’t wait for Luke to do his part of the pretend wedding he skipped straight to the kiss. ‘Couldn’t wait tootsie I was just wanting my 1st’

"If I remember correctly that was your first kiss too, and you asked for another one because of the ‘belly flies’." Jack teased her enjoying seeing her cheeky smile and blush creeping up on to her cheeks.

Y/n’s laughter echoed loudly through the room. "Jack Hughes, you are such a jerk!" She said playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jack laughed echoing her laughter. "So, do we have an agreement? You'll be okay with fake dating me, even though we never got fake divorced?"

Y/n shook her head yes once again, while rolling her eyes at the boy next to her. “Yes, Jackers. Even though you never fake divorced me, I will fake date you.”

If she only knew that Jack was silently and brutally beating himself up for this. They were in for a roller coaster of chaos and changes.

Now that he had secured one portion of the agreement, he has footwork left in figuring out how to get out of the hoops and twists. Like how to get out of that very public break up after a few months into dating. He wasn’t going to make her out to be some bitch she’s not.

And if Jack has it his way, they won’t be breaking up and it won’t be a “fake” relationship for long either.

Because Jack Hughes is hopelessly in love with his best friend. If he has any luck, besides puck luck, she loves him too.

notes 2.0: hello! welcome to my newest mini series, believe in me i hope you enjoyed the first part of the series. i am always open to kindly put creative criticism. i truly appreciate all of the continued support by reading, liking, & reblogging! thank you thank you!

[lilgoblinbitch]

saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

wc: 6k

MDNI

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee.

Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes. 

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you. 

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?” 

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.”

While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.” 

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.” 

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter.

You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel. 

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night. 

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand.

Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children. 

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle.

“Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!” 

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story.

Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some numbers on you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts. 

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts.

You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance. 

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!”

His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience.

“I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him. 

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive. 

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.”

You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned.

Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet. 

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it. 

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…” 

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst.

Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue. 

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval.

“You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut.

You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them.

Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you. 

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds. 

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum. 

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center.

Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper.

Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya."

A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part eight (stan route)

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader / ford x fem!reader

choose your own adventure / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

part seven | part nine

interested in the ford route? click here for masterlist.

a!n: woof, this took me a hot minute to complete this chapter but i finally got it done! this chapter is very memory-dump heavy so i hope it's worth the wait. i truly appreciate everyone's patience with this series and i hope you enjoy this chapter! ford's chapter should be up for sure by the end of this month!

tag list: @awitchersbard | @theilluminatidragonqueen | @jazzypop-op | @jonndoe | @chaimshelii | @starship606 | @swimmingrascalbatdragon | @stanfordsbaby | @gxstiess | @skrunkle11 | @valinbean | @funkyenby | @therealgoofygoober69 | @theblueraven | @adrian920155 | @im-kinda-bored | @miarabanana | @leo4242564 | @soupieoopieisloopie | @marvelous-maniac | @opossumclown | @m4x-3dw | @nothingbutcloud | @reivelmin | @grimometry | @walmartjim | @reiofsuns2001 | @bunni-teeth81 | @satorisgirl | @pen900 | @creat0r-cat | @lackingoriginalthoughts | @fries11 | @sunniskyies | @policedeer | @sadslasher13 | @kittenlover614 | @margibees | @lunnybunny12 | @the-hufflebird-girl | @sawendel l | @shamrockfish | @atseoks | @luckybatbones | @ryuyukawa | @mekkori | @bigbodycity | @kawaii1369 | @333brat333 | @styxxcrossing

With each creek of the wooden floorboards beneath his sock-clad feet, Stan winces as he passes by his brother’s room. His hand carefully turns the door knob, peeking through the crack. His breath that he’s been holding in the entire trek down the stairs finally escapes his lips at the sight of his brother laying in his bed, his limbs dangling off the edge and the book he was reading before dozing off dropped to the floor.

Stan quietly closes the door before making his way to the vending machine, looking behind him cautiously. It was like deja vu from last summer, sneaking around in the middle of the night while everyone sleeps as Stan punches the code to give him entry to the basement below.

In his hand, he holds the cold metal of the capsule he had found days ago, having forgotten about it until his dream sparked a memory that Stan could not ignore.

Y/N Memories 2.

Stan grabs the office chair, taking a seat in it before wheeling over to the gold plated monitor that Ford and you have been using to watch your memories back this past week. After carefully placing the capsule into the slot, he sits back, the screen fizzling to life.

You stare at the family photo of the Pines family, a younger Ford with his arm wrapped around another boy who is the spitting image of him, having found it after digging through his wallet to grab a tip for the pizza delivery guy.

As you walk back down the hallway to Fiddleford and Ford’s dorm room, your thumb runs over Stan’s face, seeing the huge boyish grin across his features. Despite having the same features as your boyfriend, there was a distinct difference in style and even personality that showed through in the worn-out photo. Opening the door to Ford’s room, you take a seat on his bed silently, placing the pizza box down.

Ford is preoccupied with the textbook in front of him, jotting down notes as he starts to say, “Thanks for grabbing me food, dear. You know how I get during midterms, I promise we’ll eat once I-”

You cut Ford off, holding up the photo, “Ford, who is this?”

Ford finally looks up from his textbook, the color in his face draining at what you are holding up. He quickly snatches it from you, tucking it into his cardigan pocket, “T-That’s Shermie, of course. Remember you met him when we visited New Jersey last summer?”

“Stanford Filbrick Pines, the person in that photo with you is clearly your age, Shermie would’ve been a baby in that photo. Unless you somehow figured out how to clone yourself at age fourteen, which we know if you did, you wouldn’t be at Backupsmore of all places.” You point out. Your gaze is full of skepticism, waiting expectantly for an answer.

He winces at your usage of his full name and lets out a deep sigh of defeat, getting up from the desk chair. Taking a seat next to you, he pulls the photo of his cardigan pocket, “I knew this day was going to come eventually. My so-called clone,” Ford runs a finger over his brother’s face, “is my twin brother, Stanley.”

You look back and forth between the photo and Ford, jaw dropped in disbelief, “And you failed to tell me this? Stanford, we’ve been together for almost two years now, I would expect something like this to come up.” Ford places the photo in your hands, the sight of it causing conflicted feelings to rise to the surface, “Well, there was a reason for that. My brother and I aren’t exactly on talking terms…”

You see the sadness etched across Ford’s features, and reach over to place your hand over his, “What happened, Ford?”

Stan watches his brother share with you his side of the story, wincing at the bitter edge in Ford’s voice when he mentions how Stan ruined his perpetual motion machine. It feels surreal to watch this play out, hearing the frustration and anger but also sadness his brother’s voice over things that they had put behind them last summer.

He waits for your response with bated breath, almost expecting you to default to defending and comforting Ford like everyone else had done at the time. 

“Ford, why didn’t you go after him? That’s your twin brother.” You say in surprise.

“Y/N, did you not hear what I just said? He ruined my chances at getting into my dream school!” Ford sighs in exasperation, a pang of guilt running through him, “Besides… what was I supposed to do? Even if I did stand up for Stanley that day, I would have ended up on the streets with him.”

You decide to let the protest in your mouth go, seeing how uncomfortable the conversation was making Ford. You also figured he already felt bad enough that he couldn’t do more for his brother at the time without risking his own future.  You glance back down at the photo before standing up to slip it back into Ford’s wallet, “Listen, I know you two aren’t on talking terms right now… but when you’re ready, you should at least check up on him. See how he’s doing.”

Ford chuckles, “Now, you’re sounding like my mom.”

“Well, she’s a wonderful woman so you should listen to her more.” You say, pinching Ford’s cheek affectionately before opening the pizza box.

Stan watched the static fizzle to transition to the next memory, but his mind was still reeling from the revelations.

Despite the fact that you had never met him and your first impressions were all coming from Ford, you came to his defense.

The last glance Ford gave to Stan before he was thrown out actually was one of regret, a silent wish Ford had that he had spoken up and defended his brother.

You met his mom, the only person who showed up to his fake funeral.

He continues to watch as each year, you encourage Ford to reach out, attempting to bridge the gap between the brothers. Stan rolls his eyes, arms crossed defensively almost out of reflex when hearing his brother tear apart one of his infomercials, but can’t help but smile as you come to his defense.

“I mean you gotta give him credit for trying, Ford. He actually really knows how to sell a product.” You say, sitting next to Ford on the arm of the chair that was in front of the TV. The two of you were unwinding for the evening after a long day of anomaly hunting, flipping through the channels before seeing a familiar face pop onto the screen, selling a new product called the Rip Off.

“He’s always been like that, trying to come up with some sort of get rich quick scheme.” Ford scoffed though it was less venom, almost laughing at the sight of his brother with a ridiculous mustache.

The phone rings and Ford shoots up, “That might be Fiddleford returning my call!” 

Just as Ford exits the room, your eyebrow raises as Stan begins to rattle off a number to place an order for his product. As the number appears on screen, you grab a nearby scrap of paper and pen, jotting it down.

Later that night, when Ford is asleep, you creep downstairs, wincing each time the floor creaks. You dial the numbers scrawled on the piece of paper you kept tucked in your pocket.

The phone rings for quite some time and just as you’re about to give up and hang up, you hear the line pick up.

“Hello?” A gruff voice, slightly deeper from just being woken up, answers.

“Is this Stanley Pines?” You ask, hoping you got the right number, not realizing that Stan was using a different alias in the infomercial, Steve Pinington. 

There’s a pause, Stan staring at the phone in confusion and panic. He hadn’t gone by his real name since he left Jersey, being chased from state to state after his scams had failed.

“Listen, if the debt collector sent you to get money from me, tell him I need at least another week.” He answers, catching you off guard at his response. You blink owlishly for a brief moment before responding, “Look, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I’m calling about Ford Pines, your brother.”

The phone practically slips from Stan’s hold in shock at the mention of his brother. It had been years since he heard from any of his family, and now there was a random stranger calling him in the middle of the night, mentioning his brother. His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach, fearing the worst may have happened to Ford and he quickly dropped his guard, “Did something happen to Ford? Is he okay?”

You hear the concern in Stan’s voice and quickly explain, “Nothing happened, he’s fine! Listen, I know this is quite unorthodox and you two haven’t spoken in years but I saw your number on an infomercial and figured this may be my only chance to reach out on his behalf. To maybe get you two talking again.’

Stan quickly relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized Ford wasn't in danger but it in turn led his defenses to go right back up, “Listen, if Ford wants to finally talk to me after all these years, he can do it himself. He didn’t have to send his… what are you his secretary, lab assistant..?” Stan questions.

You let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “I’m his partner.” 

There’s a long, drawn out silence, so long that you almost think the call dropped. Stan finally speaks, “You sure you’re not pulling my leg here?”

“No, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I am dating your brother.” You reply, shaking your head in disbelief that you are having this conversation. It’s clear the brothers had differences in personality, and yet there were some similarities that you could pinpoint.

Their shared stubbornness being one of them. 

“I take it my brother has no idea you’re calling me considering you decided to call at…” There’s a pause, Stan leaning over and squinting to check the time on the digital clock by his bedside, “2 AM.”

“He has no clue.” You mutter, twirling the phone cord in your finger. It dawns on you how impulsive this plan was and perhaps it was naive of you to think that Stan would even want to talk to his brother after everything that’s happened. 

Stan runs a hand over his tired face, still perplexed by the situation. Never would he have imagined that the next time he would hear about his brother would be through his supposed partner. After all, the last image of Ford he had in his brain was the geeky, lanky teen whose closet consisted primarily of sweater vests and stuffy turtlenecks. 

“Hey, uh, what has Ford said about me?” Stan asks, “Not that I expect him to rave about me at all.” He muttered, a bit embarrassed to admit that he still cared to this day what his brother thought about him. 

“Not… all bad things.” You say with a slight hesitation, wincing at how that sounded. “He told me everything that led up to you two not being on speaking terms, how you were always hot-headed and always stirred up trouble.” You admit, trying to dance around the topic of Stan getting thrown out and causing Ford to lose his opportunity of getting into his dream school.

“Ha… not sure what I was hoping for by asking, but thanks for being-” Stan chuckles bitterly, but you interrupt him before he can finish his thought. “But if you ask me, I think it’s all a front.  I mean the man literally has a photo of the two of you in his wallet… that’s how I found out you existed in the first place.

Stan’s heart feels full after hearing those words come from you. After all, he was starting to give up any hope that Ford would want him to be a part of his life again after the mistake he made those years ago. A sense of relief washes over him, and for once after all these years, he feels like he can breathe easy. 

Hearing you yawn breaks his train of thought, and Stan clears his throat, “Hey, uh, I realize I didn’t catch your name.” You share your name with him and he commits it to memory, “Thanks for reaching out. I get why Ford wouldn’t want to talk to me yet, but if he ever is open to it, tell him don’t be a stranger.”

You smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep bugging him, he’ll cave eventually.”

Stan laughs, taking enjoyment in someone bugging Ford in his absence, “I like your moxie.”

Stan knew deep-down when he first ran into you on the side of the road that there was something special about you. He wasn’t able to name it until now, but as he walked around the Mystery Shack, giving you a tour, your presence was strangely comforting, almost like the two of you knew each other for years.

Watching the two of you exchange late night calls back and forth over the next few months, his fond smile quickly dissipates, seeing your features grow more and more weary and tired despite the chipper tone you try to fake over the phone. Each time you hang up, you walk back upstairs, looking wistfully at the entrance of the basement as you pass it before heading back to an empty bed, the sheets on the other side perfectly made and untouched. 

Once Fiddleford had arrived, you had opted to write letters to be more covert since Ford and Fiddleford were often up late working on the portal. Seeing you open the letters in excitement, laughing over Stan’s amusing stories about his life as a door to door salesman, sparked a memory of Stan’s, and he quickly begins rummaging through the drawers, rifling through the various papers, books, and knick-knacks that mostly belonged to Ford.

Stan pauses, hearing his brother’s voice on the tape and looks up, wincing as he gets a glimmer of what you and Ford’s fights were like. In all honesty, he tried to avoid asking either of you too many details about what happened all those years ago, especially given the tension that was continuing to rise with every memory you got back. Yet here it was in front of his eyes in fuzzy definition.

“Y/N, will you please stop fretting over me?” Ford sighs in exasperation, his eyes bloodshot from the countless all-nighters he had been pulling the past week. His brown locks are askew, having run his hands through them in frustration over and over again.

You stand at the doorway of the basement, a thick blanket draped around your frame. A frown is set across your features, seeing Ford neglecting basic needs like food, sleep and even hygiene this past month to work on the portal. You had hoped things were starting to turn around - after all, it had been ages since Bill had paid him a visit, and you, Fiddleford and him actually spent a wonderful Christmas together, drinking eggnog and reminiscing about college days.

“Ford, you’ve been at this for days. You’re not a super computer that can crank out equations day in and day out, you’re a human being that needs to sleep and eat.” You say with a stern tone, approaching him from behind. He hadn’t even spared you a glance, eyes fixated on the equations before him that were key to completing the portal that loomed past the glass. 

Trust No One.

The words that his muse told him right after the holidays resonated in his mind for days on end, wary of Fiddleford and you. The insomnia was not helping his growing paranoia, wondering if the two of you were slowing down his progress on purpose.

You attempt to place a hand over his shoulder, but he shrugs it off, knowing he will cave the moment he feels your touch. You recoil your hand, feeling the burn of his rejection. 

“I’m finished having this discussion with you, I would expect you of all people to realize how important it is to me and why I cannot take any more breaks.” Ford says with a dismissive tone, “I already wasted too much time over the holidays putzing around.”

Your eyes narrow, and Ford can practically feel your glare burning a hole in the back of his head. “Do you really think that Christmas we all spent together was a waste of time?”

“Well no but-”

“Bill came back, didn’t he?”

Ford’s shoulders tensing gives you the answer you need. Your feet carry you back up the stairs, not turning back around despite Ford’s protests.

“Damn it all.” Ford curses under his breath, his hands slamming onto the desk, the equations beneath his fingertips crumpling. He looks up, the inverted triangle mocking him in the distance. “Forgive me, Y/N, but I must set my eyes on the prize. Once I make this breakthrough, opportunities await us.”

You attempt to fight back the sudden wave of emotion. You pass the living room, the glow of the TV illuminating Fiddleford’s figure passed out on the couch with his banjo still in his hands. You walk up to pull the instrument from his fingers and wrap the blanket draped over the back of the chair over him. “Is he still workin’ away?” Fiddleford asks groggily, half-asleep. You wipe the stray tear that had dropped from your lash onto your cheek, swallowing down the lump in your throat before replying, “Yeah… get some rest, Fidds.”

Just as you’re about to head back up the stairs, you pause at the steps, hearing the phone ringing in the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder cautiously, relieved to see Fiddleford fast asleep before scurrying over to answer it.  You know the only one that could be possibly calling at this hour had to be Stan, but it had been quite some time since you two called one another. 

“Stan?” You answer the phone. Stan twirled his finger around the cord of the pay phone, eyebrow raising at the shaky tone of your voice, “Everything okay, doll?” You clear your throat, letting out a bit of a dry chuckle, “I should be the one asking that considering that you’re calling.” A smile finally spreads across Stan’s face in what seems like ages, “Look at you turning the question back on me, clever gal. But really, is everything alright over there? Ford do something stupid?”

You let out a sigh, not wanting to burden his own brother with the details of your ongoing fights, especially considering the man was constantly on the run, practically living out of his car at this point, “Something like that… but seriously, why’re you calling? I thought we were sticking to writing to each other.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back as he heard police sirens in the distance, “Well, that’s why I called. I’m skipping town, just wanted to let you know just in case I didn’t write back for a bit.”

You blink at the sudden news, “Any plans on where you’re heading to next?” You ask, a silent yet slightly selfish wish that he might be heading towards Oregon. “Oklahoma, not sure exactly where yet. Gotta scrounge up some cash first before I can find a place to stay.”

“Oh Stan, are you sure you don’t want me to-” Stan interrupts you before you can finish, “No, I’ll figure it out.”

Ah, there’s that shared Pines twin stubbornness again.

“Are you sure? I just want you to have somewhere safe and warm to stay for the night at least instead of sleeping in your car tonight.” You sigh. Stan can hear the disappointment in your voice and attempts to quell your worries, “I’m sure, doll. Promise I’ll shoot you a letter once I’m settled.” 

You decide to not push further, wrapping the blanket tighter around your frame as a sudden breeze rushes through the kitchen from a crack in the window, “Alright, stay safe, okay? I don’t want to wake up to hear I’m your one phone call if you land up in a jail cell tonight.”

“No more Tijuana nights for me, I promise.” Stan chuckles, wishing you a good night before hanging up the phone on the receiver. 

“Aha! Found it!” Stan exclaims to himself, finding a stack of crumpled up letters he had stuffed in an overdue bill envelope. He unfolds the letters, spreading them across the table and skimming through the contents. With each word he reads, the memories start to piece together, recalling several nights where the only genuine connection that he experienced was seeing a letter from you slide through the bottom of whatever motel room he was staying at.

The tape almost becomes background noise to him, fixated on the content of the letters. It eats Stan up at the realization with each letter that passes that you were subtly hinting through your words for him to come visit, desperate to find someone that Ford would listen to.

Despite all logic telling him that it may not have made a difference, there is a tiny voice in the back of his mind that wonders if he just put aside his ego, his stubbornness, his pride, would things have been different?

He finally gets to the letter from his dream, eyes snapping up to see that he’s finally caught up to the tape as he watches you write and send out the letter. 

That’s the last letter in his hand and Stan expects the static to fizzle out, signalling the end of your memories with him.

It doesn’t.

The scene reveals you storming up the stairs of the basement, flinging the door wide open as Ford’s voice, arguably with more venom than Stan has ever heard in his life, yell,

“Fine, I don’t need anyone! I don’t need Fiddleford, and I don’t need you! All you’ve ever done is hold me back!”

The words sting for Stan despite not being on the receiving end of them, a hauntingly familiar insecurity rising to the surface.

You pack up every single remnant of your existence that was in the Mystery Shack, tears streaming down your face. Your hands stuffing clothes into your suitcase without a semblance of care, your vision blurring to the point where you can barely make out what you’re putting in the bag. 

You reach aimlessly into your bedside drawer to grab as much of your belongings as possible, the wood jostling around before the frame that sits atop of it topples over and falls to the floor. The glass shatters, and yet you don’t waste any time trying to pick it up and salvage it, leaving it behind much like you and Ford’s relationship.

Your feet carry you out the door, giving one last glance at the Mystery Shack. You stood there for a moment, a part of you perhaps hoping that Ford would come running through the door. That he would chase after you, pull you into his arms and apologize for the painful words that were now carved into your psyche. That he would shut down the portal that evening, and leave this whole ordeal and his so-called muse behind. 

The wind howled around you as the last ounce of hope within you died when he didn’t come out.

You walk aimlessly for a while before finally making your way into the small town, its atmosphere quiet and calm with most of its residents fast asleep. You wander over to the local inn, taking the key from the innkeeper and making your way to the room. Dropping your bags to the floor, the weight of Ford’s words and the reality of your relationship’s end finally sinks in, and you collapse onto the bed.

Days pass before you muster the strength to even leave the room, the grief making your limbs feel heavy to the point where you only get out of bed to go to the bathroom. You finally realize you can’t survive on granola bars and water bottles after the fourth day, mustering enough energy to change your clothes and make your way into town for a decent meal. 

You grab a photo on top of your pile of clothes, turning it around reluctantly and expecting to see a photo of you and Ford. You freeze, seeing the Pines twins staring back at you. Brown eyes looking at each other, full of hopes and dreams of a future beyond their beachside hometown.

Stanley.

You clutched the photo in your hands for a while, conflicted on what to do. Would it cause you more pain to keep in touch? Did you have any right to stay in contact with Stan, the brother of the man that broke your heart?

Blood is thicker than water, and despite the brothers’ distant relationship, you knew that with enough time, they would be closer than ever.

The growl of your stomach interrupts your thoughts, and you decide to make a decision about how to proceed with a clearer head after a much needed meal and some coffee. After hoovering down way too many stacks of pancakes at the local diner, you take a stroll through the town. During your entire time in Gravity Falls, Ford and you kept to yourselves for the most part, rarely venturing into town unless for bare essentials. The townspeople of Gravity Falls were quirky to say the least, but they were warm and welcoming, almost oblivious to the anomalies that Ford has been chasing and cataloging for the past few years.

It seemed almost like a luxury, the ability to be unaware of the strange happenings that occurred in the surrounding woods. A luxury that you were beginning to envy.

You shake the thought, stopping by the local post office before heading back to the inn. Your fingers gingerly pick up the photo, and you take a seat at the desk, taking the pen with the inn’s worn-out logo and twirling it in between your fingers, a habit you had subconsciously picked up from Ford. You catch yourself, stopping before flipping the photo over and beginning to write.

Hi Stan,

I really wish I was reaching out in better circumstances, but unfortunately, that’s not the case.

Ford’s gotten too deep into his research, and I can’t continue to sit by while he destroys himself and everything around him to reach this goal. 

I had to walk away, but he’s all on his own, and I know he’s much too stubborn and prideful to ask for help. I’m sorry to put this burden on you, but please go see him, Stan. He needs someone to talk some sense into him, and if anyone can get through to him, I know it’s you.

I really wish we could have met, that we could have teased Ford together, seen the two of you back together thick as thieves. Even though we’ve only talked through letters and over the phone, I know you’ve got a heart of gold underneath that rough exterior. I have to admit that you brought out lightness in a really dark time for me.

I hope life treats you kinder, I hope things turn around, and you get to take all the adventures in the world one day with Ford. I’ll be rooting for you.

Please take care of yourself. 

Sincerely,

Y/N

Droplets of water hit the photo, slightly smearing the ink. Wiping them away with the back of your sleeve, you tuck the photo into an envelope and seal it with a sense of finality.

The memories flood back to Stan just like they did last summer, and everything seems much clearer like the time he realized he needed glasses after jokingly putting on Ford’s to imitate him. 

It dawns on him that he never got your final letter, only Ford’s postcard. 

Maybe he narrowly missed it, having packed his belongings the moment he got Ford’s plea for help. 

Maybe it got lost in the mail, laying amongst a pile of letters that would never be opened.

Whatever the reason, it tore him apart that he went all those years thinking you forgot about him, tossing him aside in your mind without a second thought to even reach out for a goodbye. His brain having lumped into the same category as every single person in his hometown that thought he was good for nothing, his twin brother being the only reason why anyone would want to be around him. 

Yet there you stood, all those years later, your car stranded on the side of the road, back in the woods where it all started. Neither of you having a clue there was a reason why your banter and interactions seemed so effortless. It was like you picked back up right where you started.

“Stanley, what are you doing down here?”

Ford’s voice startles him, almost causing him to topple over in the chair. Before he can explain himself or even come up with some excuse, one last scene fizzles on the screen for both brothers to watch.

You wander through the aisles of the convenience store, having a basket cradled in the crook of your arm.You were in the small town of Gravity Falls, visiting an old friend from college who was here doing research. Fiddleford had sent you to grab some basic staples, and you happily accepted, needing the walk to clear your strangely foggy head.

Staring at the list that Fiddleford had scrawled on a piece of paper as you squint to make out his chicken scratch, you don’t catch the hooded figure with his head down walking directly towards you. You collide with one another, falling on your butt and the contents of your basket spilling out. 

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologize, scrambling to grab the contents of your basket. “You’re fine, I wasn’t looking either.” A hauntingly familiar voice replies back, reaching for the loaf of bread and handing it over to you.

Your eyes widen, and you look up, seeing a man who had the same face of the person you wanted to forget staring back at you. The brown locks that you remembered were longer, hitting the nape of his neck, the furry lining of the beat-up hoodie adorning the top of his head. Tired eyes gazing back at you.

The world stands still around you, not realizing the crowd that was beginning to form after hearing the sound of your basket crashing to the ground.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Stan says, staring at you with concern as you continue to gape at him.

“Stan…” You finally say, the memories of Ford beginning to seep back into your consciousness. 

Stan’s eyes widen when you say his name. Not Ford’s but his. 

Before he can react, he watches you stand up suddenly, abandoning the items on the floor and pushing past the bodies to bolt out of the exit.

You don’t think, your feet carrying you back to the hut that Fiddleford was staying in. Slamming the door behind you, Fiddleford jumps, his hypervigilance still activated as he picks up his banjo to start swinging it. He relaxes when he sees it’s you, placing the instrument down, “Sweet sarsaparilla, you scared me, Y/N!” He lets out a surprised yelp, feeling your embrace tight around him.

“What’s the matter? Somethin’ happen while you were out?” Fiddleford says with concern, his spine rigid at the thought of you encountering one of the many anomalies that disturbed him during his time in Gravity Falls. You mutter into his shirt, “I saw him, Fidds… and all the memories came right back… it hurts so much.”

His eyes widen, and he pulls you away briefly to stare into your tear-soaked eyes, “You saw S?” You shake your head back and forth, “No… his brother. He’s in town.”

“Ah shucks, did he recognize ya?” Fiddleford asks, guiding you over to the rocking chair before taking a seat on the floor in front of you. “No, I don’t think he knows what I look like. I did say his name though.” You pause before letting out a sad chuckle, “They really do look alike, apart from a few differences.”

The two of you sit in silence, Fiddleford reluctant to offer yet again to use the memory gun on you. It was one thing to erase the memory of the anomalies from his own brain and the brains of several Gravity Falls residents, but asking him to relieve you of every single memory you had of the man you both cared deeply about, he was conflicted. Your time with Ford encompassed most of your adult life, and he would be taking away essentially years of your life. He had attempted to talk you out of it, but when he saw how all sense of joy had been sucked out of you and your eyes puffy from all the tears you had shed, he caved, wanting to take away the pain.

“Fidds, I can’t stay here… I need to go back home.” You sigh, bringing your legs up to your chest and rocking in the chair, “Everything about this place is a potential reminder of Ford… I just want to put this all behind me.” Fiddleford nods, “I understand… do you wanna..” he trails off, getting choked up over the thought of erasing your memories again. 

“Yes… and I’m going to need you to erase my memories of Stan too.” You say, extending your hand out, feeling Fiddleford’s fingers rest on your palm. 

“Hey Fidds…”

“Yeah…”

“Thank you, I know this hasn’t been easy for you either.”

That evening, you and Fiddleford have one final dinner together, going through old photos and memories from the past. After today, all the pain would be gone so why not open up some of the wounds to at least have a final farewell to your life with Ford and Gravity Falls?

After booking a one way ticket back to your hometown, you sit on the floor, watching Fiddleford configure the Memory Gun. “What’s his full name again? Just gotta make sure… it’s accurate.” Fiddleford asks a casual question for such a heavy task ahead of him.

“Stanley Pines.”

Fiddleford finishes typing out the name before sitting down in front of you, “Are you sure you wanna do this, Y/N?”

You nod, “I’m sure, Fidds. I spent so many years of my life revolving around Ford… I want to do the things I put on hold, and I know if I still have his memory lingering in my mind, I’ll be stuck for a long time.”

Fiddleford gives one final nod before suddenly hugging you tightly, “Don’t be a stranger now. I expect a letter about your adventures when ya get the time.”

You chuckle sadly, returning the embrace, “I won’t be, Fidds.” 

Feeling the cool bulb press against your temple, you close your eyes, envisioning Stan’s face from earlier. You have one final hope that his presence means Ford finally let someone in.

‘Goodbye, Stanley… at least one of my wishes came true and I got to meet you.’

The scene cuts, the screen goes black, the two brothers’ crestfallen expression reflecting back at them.

Ford places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Stanley… is this the end of her memories?”

Stan shakes his head, his head buzzing from the memories coming back to him. God, he felt like his brain was about to burst from all the information flooding back to him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales, “There was a second capsule… I found it in the basement of the museum earlier this week but I didn’t say anything cause I didn’t want to complicate things.”

Ford’s eyes widened at the revelation, “So the second capsule was…”

“It was her memories of me. Guess you weren’t the only one she wanted to forget, Ford.” Stan says, hating the bitter tone on his tongue, “My memories of her started coming back, I guess, after we hung out yesterday. Started having a dream just like hers.”

“You know we need to tell her about it…” Ford stated with a softer tone, slightly pressing but not being too demanding. He understood what it was like to feel erased, the same questions likely circling in his brother’s head.

Was I insignificant enough that you erased me?

Was your life better off without me in it?

“No, not yet!” Stan says frantically, “She’s already struggling with her memories with you, I don’t wanna make this worse for her.”

Ford sighs, trying to reason with his brother, “You know she’s going to find out eventually. If your memories of her were starting to come back, I’m sure the same is happening to her.”

Stan mulls it over, his brother having a point. On the other hand, he heard what Ford’s last words were to you, and they weren’t pretty. Was it right for him to throw another curveball at you just when you’re so close to getting to that fight?

“I’m willing to take the risk… I just want her to focus on what’s up ahead with your memories with her.” Stan says with a sense of finality.

Ford nods, knowing after so many years, not to argue with Stan when he speaks with conviction. “Alright… I’ll let you handle your memories with her, and we’ll keep forging onward with her memories with me.” He walks over to the machine, removing the capsule and placing it back into Stan’s hands. His eyes glance over at the letters strewn across the table, watching Stan quickly scoop them into his arms.

“Stanley… did she write you those letters?” Ford asks. He wasn’t completely oblivious to your efforts in the past to keep in touch with his brother, mostly turning a blind eye to it as he was so focused on the portal. He hadn’t realized though you two had been in communication much more consistently than he had realized.

“She did… since someone was too stubborn to reach out himself.” Stan snorts, grinning as Ford huffs in response, “You’re one to talk! The phone goes both ways, Stanley, and I never heard anything from you either.”

“Hey, I did try calling one time!” Stan defends himself.

“Oh really because I don’t recall you ever doing so?” Ford says.

“Well, you picked up… I just didn’t say anything and hung up.” Stan mutters.

“Stanley, that hardly counts!” Ford protests.

“Am I interrupting something?” Your voice cuts off the brothers’ bickering, watching in amusement with two coffee mugs in your hand. 

Stan quickly stumbles, fumbling to hide the capsule behind the papers as Ford approaches to take the mugs from your hands, “Thank you for bringing these down, we’ve got a long day ahead of us if we want to get back on track.”

“Sorry, Stan, I would have brought you coffee if I knew you were down here. Thought you were still sleeping when you weren’t in the kitchen.” You apologize.

Stan shakes his head, using this as an excuse to slip out, “I’ll go grab myself one, don’t sweat it. I’ll get out of your guys’ hair.” He begins walking towards the stairs, pausing mid-way up the stairs to spare a glance at you.

You lean against the work station, watching Ford carefully place the capsule back in its slot. You pass him his mug, Stan’s eyes lingering on the brush of each other’s fingertips despite neither of you or Ford reacting to the touch.

Being twins, many would presume there would be a lot of things the brothers would share in common. Despite the similarities in appearance, they were two distinct individuals, with different goals, hobbies, interests, and personalities. 

While there was friendly competition here and there, there was rarely a moment where Stan coveted something that Ford had aside from a few instances of fighting over a favorite toy and the one time in 5th grade where he and Ford had a crush on the same girl, Niki Marino.

This was one of those moments.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 12/3/2024

no tuesdaypost next week! some real martha stewart homemaking ass activities going on rn tho

listening

extremely rare musical fallow week, mostly bc i have not felt well enough to drive places or walk around my apartment complex. i have mostly been relistening to old Well There's Your Problem episodes, a podcast about engineering disasters (with slides).

of course this would fuckin happen in jersey

-

reading

im having a brain time related to an unpleasant anniversary and have been churning through my stacks of weird little paperbacks. i am in the bad habit of picking up cheap interesting-looking older scifi and fantasy and then not touching them for years on end. the trouble with loving scifi and fantasy as a genre is that most of it is not very good. u gotta wade through a lot of chaff to find one thing that sort of delivers on its premise.

unrelated to all of that, ive had a little stack of cold war and wwii spy paperbacks sitting around since i bought them in high school. these have been with me through So many moves. unfortunately i have only enjoyed one of them, Peter O'Donnell's Modesty Blaise novel I, Lucifer.

i did not know anything about ms. blaise before reading this sixties spy/thriller but it was catnip to me. it has not aged particularly well, but the stuff per chapter is very high. lots of the latest and greatest sixties Cool Stuff- amateur parachuting competitions, trained dolphins, paranormal and ESP cognitive tests, impersonating american tourists for fun and profit, packets of industrial diamonds. a genuinely fun and inventive ransom method. evil marionettes? the next time i am in a real used bookstore and not a half price books i will look for more of these little fuckers.

modesty is so much fun. she gets to sleep around and be her own boss and have fun but also have her own moral code. peter o’donnell is good at writing a fight scene, and good at setting up and paying off much later but unfortunately he is still subject to the social mores and orientalism of his time.

“I’m going to try and make the black couch a thing,” Gifford says as she arranges a selection of pumpkin decorations in her living room. “Hopefully that becomes identifiable as my couch.” It’s a sentence that would sound absurd on its own, but this is the minutiae that can preoccupy the minds of influencers — especially if they live in a constant state of unease, worrying someone else will copy their life. The fierce competition of this industry means you can’t be normal about your living room furniture.

“I’m going to try and make the black couch a thing,” Gifford says as she arranges a selection of pumpkin decorations in her living room. “Hopefully that becomes identifiable as my couch.” It’s a sentence that would sound absurd on its own, but this is the minutiae that can preoccupy the minds of influencers — especially if they live in a constant state of unease, worrying someone else will copy their life. The fierce competition of this industry means you can’t be normal about your living room furniture.

i think this was a longreads suggestion from the new tabs suggested articles on firefox?

-

watching

racked up eighteen things on letterboxd this week, mostly bc kanopy had a collection of thirteen betty boop shorts. the one that tickled my fancy the most was Bimbo's Initiation (1931). six and a half surreal and horny minutes about secret society and fraternity initiations. the ass slapping machine was a real thing you could buy specifically marketed toward initiations like this.

-

playing

bc i have nothing but time on my hands i compared a list of my hidden achievements in genshin impact with a list of known hidden achievements and have been knocking them off. some of them were embarrassingly easy and i do not know how i missed them. i do have a fat stack of commission-related hidden achievements (somehow the only nation whose commission-related hidden achievements i have completely finished is the new nation. i have been playing this game for almost five years since 1.0. augh). there are a ton of co-op achievements that i don't think i'm ever going to rack up bc i don't generally play co-op but like. that's fine. there are 1428 known achievements so i think 1273 is pretty fuckin good.

-

making

sometimes i have a problem: loose threads, hang tags, etc on clothes bother the fuck out of me but i don't do anything about it bc i can never find scissors and if the kitchen scissors leave the kitchen i will never ever remember to put them back in the kitchen. the solution is getting rid of the friction involved with finding scissors and remembering to put loose threads in the garbage where my cats can't eat them and remembering to put the scissors away. too many steps! too much friction! i have reappropriated a little garbage can from my office to the laundry room and added scissors on a command hook. this will also help stop lint from piling up on top of the dryer. the second set of scissors is inside my closet, where i have command stripped up a pretty tea tin for a tiny garbage basket.

another extremely annoying thing/minor problem: i've had to wash my couch covers a lot lately. this is fine. they are designed to go through hell. however, bc i made them myself from giant dropcloths and just kind of tuck them in, it is hard to tell what the correct placement is on the couch.

there are vanishingly few practical applications for embroidery. i initially stem stitched the SHORT and chain stitched the LONG and then hated how the stem stitch looked a little messier, so i ripped it out and redid it. front & back below, there are dabs of fraychek on the knots to help them survive the wash a bit better.

i'll do the other futon cover too eventually but the couch cover has needed more frequent washing lately and was a little more of a priority. these were all extremely minor things that felt very silly to do but they did solve minor annoyances. yay.

[seraphicloves]

I was going yo write a multichap for sally face but i am much better at oneshots so i am scrapping that idea however i am sharing how much i had written so far

"Why can't you let us know anything about what happened?" You argued, glaring at the stubborn police officer guarding the door. Ms.Sanderson was somebody you held dearly in your heart and she was dead so quickly. Of course you wanted ton investigate but it was difficult when police officers wouldn't answer any questions.

"Get lost, little girl." The police officer ordered, glaring down at you. You rolled your eyes and started walking away, when in the corner of your eye you noticed a person with blue hair in pigtails. They must be new to Addison apartments and possibly your age.

"Hey!" You called out, rushing towards them. You got closer and they turned around, wearing a mask? (No, actually you realized it was a prosthetic something you had seen on TV recently.)

"I'm [Name] and I live in 202. What's your name?" You said, holding out your hand for them to shake. They accepted the offer, their hand cold (but nice) as they gave you a firm handshake.

"The name's Sal but my friends call me Sally Face." The person responded, voice slightly raspy and very masculine. Oh, so the new kid is a boy. There wasn't anything wrong with that, in fact its totally cool! "I just moved in and decided to check out my neighbors."

You nodded and smiled, listening to his words. He had such a soothing voice, it was incredibly easy to listen to. You were determined to make him your friend.

"Well I can introduce you to Larry, one of my best friends who also lives here." You said, hoping Sal would take the offer. You wanted to be his friend, if he doesn't want to hang out with you now will he ever?

Much to your relief, he nods and starts following you. Maybe he can help you figure out what happened with Ms.Sanderson! So will Larry, probably, but the more helping is better.

You passed by some of your other neighbors, which makes you describe them all. From the creepy Charlie to the strange Mr.Addison. It was hard to tell if he was listening since you couldn't see his expressions through the mask, but you kept talking anyhow.

"Hi, Lisa." You waved as you approached Larry's mom cleaning the floor. She looked up and smiled, smiling at Sal behind you as well.

"Hi, dear. Who's this?" She asked, although more framing the question towards Sal. He introduced himself, and Lisa did the same.

"Is Larry in his room?" You asked, wanting yo get back to the reason you had approached her. Lisa nodded and tossed you a key to her apartment so you could head inside.

"How long have you lived here?" Sal asked, walking side by side with you. He looked at you, one of his eyes a gorgeous blue color that was so vibrant it was surely electric. His other eye was a much more muted blue although just as pretty..it seemed he had only one eye that actually functioned.

"Probably as long as I can remember." You chuckled, shrugging, "I've grown up in Nockfell and I think I've pretty much lived at Addison since I was a toddler. Where are you moving from?"

"New Jersey." He replied, voice a bit more curt. You winced and noted it as a touchy subject, hopefully Larry won't bring up any of this when you see him.

Finally you two made it to the basement and you unlocked Lisa's apartment, "She gets to live here basically for free since she is the janitor. Larry is her son and he's our age."

Sal nodded and followed you as you entered the apartment. "Larryyyyy," You yelled, "Get your lazy ass out of your room!"

A few seconds go by and surprisingly enough Larry walked out of his room. He was tall with long hair (that looked surprisingly soft despite him being terrible at taking care of it) and of course a Sanity Falls t shirt.

"Whoa, dude." Larry said, laying his eyes laying on Sal, "Nice mask!" He gave Sal a thumbs up, the bro code for gaining his respect.

"It's a prosthetic," You corrected at the exact same time Sal says it too. He glanced at you, seemingly surprised.

"How did you know its a prosthetic?" He asked, eyes boring into your skin. Your face warmed and you looked away, unused to such a piercing stare.

"I just guessed since I have seen them on TV before." You replied, trying to hide your fluster. Larry raised his eyebrow at you, noticing your reaction but luckily he said nothing. You would've fought him otherwise.

Sal nodded and left it alone, glancing around the room. He noticed the Sanity Falls poster and Larry started geeking out on him.

`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀✿ᘡˊ°`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀✿ᘡˊ°`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀

"Is this a good idea? Probably not." You said, sighing as you realized what you guys were about to do. But it's for Mrs.Sanderson! It's necessary.

"Okay so I distract the officer while you too sneak into Mrs.Sanderson's room. I have one walkie talkie that you guys can both use." Larry says, tossing the walkie talkie to Sal. (Rude, you've known Larry longer.)

Sal and you both nodded, ready to get the plan in motion. You all exited Larry's room, with Larry going to her room.

You and Sal waited nearby, listening for the signal you can proceed. Your heart pounded and your blood felt charged with electricity, this was more exciting than you were used to.

Finally the walkie talkie crackled to life as Larry gave the all clear. You glanced at Sal and nervously smiled, rushing towards Mrs.Sanderson's room quickly.

Your footsteps echoed your heavy heartbeat, threatening to jump from your chest. You tried to mentally prepare yourself, it was going to be bloody probably and it could be scary. Stay calm, just stay calm.

Sal opened the door and courteously went in before you, probably since his noticed your hands shaking with nerves. Even though your fear was valid it was embarrassing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you followed Sal and crinkled your nose at the utter stench of death.

You dragged your eyes through the scene, dark red splatters all around the room like a gruesome painting. Attempting to focus, you noticed something. There was a empty spot where the blood splatter went...like an object was there and got removed.

"Sal, Sal, look!" You hissed, nudging him with your shoulder and pointing at the spot, where it looked like there was a missing glitter pony. Sal nodded and looked at you.

"Good job! Now lets go before we get caught." Sal said, turning around and hurrying the way you both came. Footsteps were quiet and rapid as you guys practically ran out of the room before the officer came back to the room.

Once you were safe, you leaned forward catching your breath. Sal was staring at you, his emotions unidentifiable under his mask.

"Its cool that you noticed that earlier, I almost missed it." Sal said, giving you a small nod. Larry showed up a few moments later, a big grin in his face.

"Now we just have to find evidence in Charlie's room." Larry said, feeling serious about locking the creep up. And honestly, it made some sense that Charlie killed Mrs.Sanderson.

"I'm sure one of his glitter ponies has blood on it. That could be evidence." Sal said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but he would flip out if we got too close to them." You pointed out.

Larry nodded, seeming a little deflated. You were too, how would you get close enough to the glitter ponies without Charlie trying to commit even more murder?

"He falls asleep when he drinks Mr.Addison's tea..maybe we could make it stronger?" Sal suggested, the observation skills being on point. You smiled, although not sure how you guys were going to drug Charlie.

"Do you guys have any sleeping pills?" Larry asked and you shook your head sadly. Without any sleeping pills how would you make Charlie go to sleep?

"My dad takes sleeping pills. I can get those." Sal said, and you all agreed on it. It was scary how easily your plans were working but there was no time to question your fortune.

Sal got the pills and you got the tea. Together you mixed the concoction and got ready to drug your neighbor. Normal teenager behavior of course.

"Since he might be a murderer and try murderous things, you can stay behind me." Sal said, holding the tea and staring at you. You gave him a warm smile, something that has been happening more since Sal showed up.

"Thanks, Sally." You said, following behind him as you entered Charlie's room. You had a plastic baggie in your hands, big enough to snatch up a glitter pony if you find it.

Charlie was sitting on his chair as usual, practically melted into the furniture. He looks at you as you enter, his eyes trailing down your skin. Ew.

"I got you some more tea." Sal says, handing the cup to Charlie. His eyes light up and he slurps the tea greedily, only to pass out right after.

"At least we know it works?" You said, before shaking your head and focusing on the collection of toys. Carefully you scanned each one looking for any sort of blood stain.

A presence stood beside you, Sal moved to stand beside you somehow completely silent. Finally he must have noticed the bloody pony because he took the plastic baggie and grabbed it.

"oh, awesome!" You said, jumping when