#i have 3 plants in my room right now although .. one is. ... hes not doin good hes not been good for like a year i think i might have 2 ..

[ornges]

i’m watchin jenna marbles new vid & .... hoo boy

[eunoiaflow3r]

i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Discord pt 89

[Date: 17/03, 12.53 PM GMT - 17/03, 02.33 PM GMT]

[This conversation was going on in #arg, partly simultaneously to another in #general2.]

Maxwell: “Give me one sec I’m gonna go check on the buds....

Maxwell: “....you guys

We might have a slight problem

Or well it’s a big

Bad

Problem

Jack the Observer: “Right.

Hit us”

Maxwell: “The buds

There’s more

And the ones from yesterday....they’re opening up and blooming”

Jack the Observer: “Unfortunate. But not surprising.

...”

Maxwell: “what do I do”

Maxwell: “I’m....gonna have a nap...”

Jack the Observer: “Rest well, max

We’ll... work on it”

Maxwell: “Thank you”

[People discuss possible ways of getting rid of the buds that had been brought up the previous day.]

donti (e): “FLOWERS USE PHOTORECEPTORS TO KNOW WHEN TO BLOOM

wear hat 24/7 so no light?”

Maxwell: “I almost always wear my hood but I don’t know if that’ll help

It grew from last night”

donti (e): “if light is hitting the bud its not enough,,,”

Maxwell: “There’s more buds and some are starting to open”

donti (e): “oh no...”

looks like we have til the 20th to figure things out, if that speeds anything to go by”

Maxwell: “I think little leaves may be forming too although they’re very tiny...”

donti (e): “max.. we got this.. you can trust that we'll help you”

Jack the Observer: “Does it hurt to touch?”

Maxwell: “Not really it just feels sore, I can’t feel my hair touching it but I can feel my hands on it

It’s....weird...”

donti (e): “... are you feeling the BUDS or like, the feeling of bUDS being touched

like,,, do the buds have.. nerves

or is it more like you can feel it bc its physically attached to you”

Maxwell: “I think i can feel it cause it’s attached to me like I can feel my hood on em...

It’s not super noticeable but I can still feel it”

donti (e): “alright thats good so theres,, not any nerves that are based on sense of touch,,, thats good thats good”

Maxwell: “Isn’t it technically though?

Since I can feel through em a bit”

LLyr: “is it like how you feel nails?”

Maxwell: “Like if something touched them I could tell cause I would feel it...”

donti (e): “or like hey someone is punching my backpack type of feeling”

Maxwell: “More like a skin thing....”

Jack the Observer: “Like if someone touched your fingernails you can feel it”

donti (e): “uh oh...”

Jack the Observer: “Even tho ur nails have no nerves”

donti (e): “nerves,,,”

Jack the Observer: “And you can cut fingernails safely”

LLyr: “hm. thats not good.”

Jack the Observer: “If there are actually nerves in there. That’s more complicated.”

Maxwell: “Yeah....”

[This means that cutting the buds out is not an option anymore]

Maxwell: “.....”

[But perhaps cutting the buds out could be done as a last resort?]

Maxwell: “Please no”

donti (e): “max, its up to you, would you rather have to keep the laurel or have it be cut off as a last ditch effort”

Maxwell: “I don’t know neither is a good option—”

[Methods of potentially slowing the buds’ growth are discussed instead]

donti (e): “we can also try like,,, straight up trying to freeze the buds off”

Maxwell: “I’ve been outside in the freezing cold a lot cause I’ve been to go to school in person some days and it hasn’t done a thing”

donti (e): “.... im talking colder than that. artificial cold.”

[Were the flowers like spring flowers then? Could they be destroyed by intense heat?]

Jack the Observer: “I feel like anything hot enough to melt metal should not be getting near Max’s head.

Might just be me /s”

LLyr: “no i’m with you there 3:”

Maxwell: “Also if this wreath does have nerve endings that will not feel nice”

[donti (e): “max try the light thing for now... and take a hot bath later”]

Maxwell: “I actually had one yesterday....

donti (e): “did it help at all?”

Maxwell: “It didn’t do anything”

Maxwell: “Maybe it would help if we know what’s gonna bloom from them....?”

fetch: “mona's got hella farmers almanacs and gardening books

somewhere on the bookshelf in the living room, so you can nose around over there”

Maxwell: “But there’s so many different flowers...”

Jack the Observer: “They’re unlikely to be very delicate.”

Jack the Observer: “I would say check early spring flowers. Snowdrops and the like.”

fetch: “also before yall ask yes I've accepted the fact that it is in fact a circlet and not matted hair and no I don't want to talk about it”

Mothbo: “Totally understandable Fetch”

Jack the Observer: “Uh huh.

Very cool, fetch.”

fetch: “what were you expecting?”

Maxwell: “If they’re flowers...did page ever say what his flower was? If this is meant to be like a new circlet maybe it’ll be that”

Jack the Observer: “Oh! That’s a good idea actually

Let me check”

fetch: “page liked freesia flowers”

Maxwell: “Hm...I looked at the meanings and white ones mean innocence and yellow mean friendship...sounds fitting”

https://www.gardenia.net/plant/freesia-single-white

Found more stuff on em

Maxwell: “They require minimum maintenance....”

Maxwell: “They don’t all look like freesias though....I can barely see but the inside seems to be a different a flower? Hold on ima try to find which one it is”

Maxwell: “I think I know which one it may be...”

Maxwell: “I think they may be marigolds”

donti (e): “... i see”

Maxwell: “I don’t think it’s the average one though”

donti (e): “huh. whats up”

Jack the Observer: “Marigolds are usually quite large. If they do end up growing in, it would be quite the sight.”

Maxwell: “Calendula

Or pot marigolds...”

donti (e): “it says overhead watering is bad, but once again, bath. so these are probably way more sturdy”

Maxwell: “I’ve always liked them....”

donti (e): “ah.”

Maxwell: “They can be used to treat different things so they can be helpful for survival

https://www.gardeningknowhow.com/ornamental/flowers/calendula/common-calendula-uses.htm”

Jack the Observer: “So a mixture of what you like and what Page likes.”

Maxwell: “Funny....”

donti (e): “... yea”

Jack the Observer: “It is, a little bit. But it makes sense.

Maybe you should make a memory list for yourself, by the way.”

donti (e): “so guessing from what we've already notices, the flowers that are budding do not have the same characteristics as their natural counterparts”

Maxwell: “Says the plant can tolerate a lot of conditions...

A memory list?”

Jack the Observer: “Marigolds are quite sturdy.”

donti (e): “but the other flower isnt”

Jack the Observer: “A memory list is a list of things you’d want to remember if you were wiped, given to someone you trust. For example, Marcus couldn’t remember his name or his sister right away when he took the circlet off. And there’s some speculation that it could help you “snap out of it””

Maxwell: “Hm...”

Jack the Observer: “Some people have made them already.”

Maxwell: “Do you have a list of things I should add to it perhaps? Knowing me I’d forget important things to add heh....”

Void: “not to distract from the current convo, but have yall checked the doc recently? (please Internet connection let me send at least this message)”

donti (e): “! whats wrong with the doc?”

fetch: “the doc is fine?

trust me I'd know if something was wrong”

jaynoblade: “i can't see anything that's really changed? just a bit of an update to include baroness in the court”

donti (e): “yea,”

fetch: “Yeah, thats all I been doin

Adding baroness, and all we know about her”

Void: “just. about sunflower seeds? well maybe not”

fetch: “:?”

Maxwell: “Seeds?”

fetch: “no clue what you're talking about bud”

Maxwell: “.....lemme check”

fetch: “I mean sunflower seeds are a good snack”

Maxwell: “Where do you see that?”

[This is the referenced doc change, written by fetch:]

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

Through The Years pt. 6 (Bucky Barnes x Stark! fem! reader)

tags: @a-girl-who-loves-disney @the-romanian-is-bae

A/N: feedback is appreciated! And OH MAN- is it sad. It’s a long chapter. And guys, we’re nearly done with the first avenger, moving on to The Avengers after this! Also, I’ve decided to update this every weekend. no specific date, but if i can, it will be updated from Friday-Sunday. :)

Summary: After rescuing Bucky, Y/N and the 107th from the Hydra facility in Austria; Steve Rogers begins work to assemble to Howling Commandos; an elite task force of top-ranking soldiers that are able to do what regular soldiers never could. 

~~~~~~

 DECEMBER 12, 1944

LONDON, ENGLAND

You walked into the cozy, crowded London pub with your hair done up nice, and that sky blue dress you loved. Why Steve called you here to meet, you’ll never know. 

Eyes scanning the area, you spotted Steve and a couple of other men sitting around a table with drinks. Steve looked up and saw you, ushering you over to the table. Everyone else went silent.

“Gentlemen, this is Y/N Stark. She’ll be joining us this evening.”

You sat done as of the men, with a darker complexion said “The Lieutenant General? What are you doing? Assembling an elite task force?”

Giving a curt nod, “That’s exactly what I’m doing, Gabe. Now please settle down.”

Steve passed you a beer and started explaining. “An elite task force, of sorts. To be able to do what regular soldiers never could.” 

After almost an hour of explaining, you put a hand up. “Steve, this is an excellent idea. If we didn’t almost die last time! You really want us to go back?”

Agreements were heard around the table. “What the Stark over here said!” exclaimed Dum Dum Dougan as he clinked his glass with yours. 

“Well- it sounds fun actually. I’m in.” Falsworth said. 

Two of the other men agreed, and Steve looks at you. “Y/N, you in?”

Sighing, you said “I’m in. This better work, Captain.”

“You have my word, Lieutenant General. What about you, Dougan?”

“Well- I’m in. But as long as you open a tab, Captain.” Said Dougan, chugging the last of his beer. 

“Of course. Y/N, help me out?” Steve asked.

“Let’s go.”

You both gathered all the mugs on the table and walked into the bar in the next room. “Buck! What’re ya doin’ here?” you said, walking over to sit next to him in surprise. He finished the last of what looked like scotch. You grabbed both of his hands in your own “I thought you had sniper training for another week!”

He scratched the back of his head nervously, but then intertwined his hand with your own. “They let me off early, doll. Christmas is up soon, after all. I wanted to see my best girl.”

“You make me blush too much.” you settled into your seat and waved the bar tender for a drink. 

“So- are you two ready to follow Captain America to the jaws of death?” Steve said, sitting on your other side. 

“Hell no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was never afraid to back down from a fight. I’m following him.” Bucky said, throwing an arm around your waist.

“As for myself, I’m following that boy I met in the lab one day who wasn’t afraid. The little guy who was willing to trust me and brother with his life even though he had only heard about us through a radio. That’s a hero. I’m following him.” you said. 

The bar went completely silent, and the three of you turned your head to see the source. 

“Peggy! My goodness you look radiant!” you said, grabbing her hands. 

“That’s all you, Y/N. She said, pecking both your cheeks and turning to Steve. 

“Captain.”

“Agent Carter.” Steve said, obviously nervous at the sight of her. 

“Ma’am.” Bucky said in greeting. 

Peggy glances at you and then at Steve again. “The Starks have new equipment for you to try, tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. Don’t be late.”

She then turned around and walked out. “It’s like I’m invisible, Steve.”

“Relax, Buck. Maybe she has a friend.”

“Rogers! I am the friend!” you said, feigning offense. 

“And for that-” Bucky said, wrapping both his arms around you from behind. “I am the luckiest man in the world. Fancy a dance?”

“You know I do.”

~~~~~~

THE NEXT DAY. 

“Me, Rogers, I concentrate on work, not fondue-ing. You’ll never know what goes on inside a woman’s head as long as you say that. But right now work consists of making sure my sister’s soldiers don’t get killed.” Howard said, leading Steve to a table. 

“Good morning Steve!” you said, slapping him straight across the face.

“What was that for?” Steve said, nursing his cheek with his hands. “That’s for hurting Peggy. I know what you did.”

“She doesn’t even-”

“Not another word from you. I keep you around because my brother likes a soldier like you.”

“Like I said, Rogers, you never know what goes on inside a woman’s head. Especially my sisters.” Howard said.

“That’s enough, you. Anyway, Steve, this is carbon polymer. It should withstand your average German Bayonet-”

“Because HYDRA’s not going to attack you with a pocket knife.” Howard said, guiding Steve around the table. You followed close behind.

“Anyway- Steve. I saw you’re quite fond of  that play shield of yours. The prop right?” you said. 

“These, Rogers are prototypes. We’ve made each and every one, in any way deemed possible from Stark technology. 

Steve looks over all the shields, then points at one on the bottom. “What about this one?” 

“A failed one.” Howard said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Made of the same stuff my sister’s armor is.”

“Starks, are you almost done?” said Peggy, strutting in. 

Steve then proceeds to smile at her, as if to ask if she approves of the shield. She then proceeds to pick up a gun and shoot three times at it. It startles the entire lab. 

“I like it.”

You put a hand on Steve’s shoulder as she walks out. “She really is pissed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I had some ideas about the uniform?” he hands you both a piece of paper. 

“Whatever you want.”

~~~~~~

JANUARY 30TH, 1944

BELGRADE, SERBIA

You used your powers to crack open the doors, and the Howling Commandos shot up the place, shooting HYDRA officials left and right. Dougan put a bomb on the power plant, set the timer, and you all ran out. 

As you boarded the truck and left, the base exploded, and the rest of the Howlies cheered. “That’s another one down, boys! Where are we off to next?” you said, slinging your gun back on your shoulder and putting your swords back in their holders. 

“Kharkiv, in Ukraine.” 

“Let’s go!”

~~~~~~

APRIL 24, 1944

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY

“Welcome back to Channel 2, your news on the radio. Captain America and his team of - er- Howling Commandos? Captain America and his elite soldier task force, The Howling Commandos have invaded the Russian HYDRA base. It’s the 14th base they’ve taken down this year, and at this speed, they’ll secure a victory for the allies.”

“This team consists of a rag-tag gang of hopeful soldiers, including Stark Industries co-founder, Y/N Stark, making her the first woman to serve in the Army of this great nation!”

~~~~~~

THE ENGLISH CHANNEL.

JULY 16, 1944. 3:00 AM. 

It was a quiet and cold night as the boat creaked and made it’s way up the channel. After taking down another HYDRA base in Milan, The Howling Commandos crossed France, and made their departure from Brussels, Belgium and where now headed for another HYDRA base in Oslo, Norway, before returning to London for a rest. 

Sitting in your bed, in the bunk you shared with Pinky, who was snoring away, while you couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. Turning on the tiny oil lamp, you pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. You were long overdue to write a letter to Howard.

Howard,

Hello Brother! Today is the 16th of July, 1944. It’s currently 3 am and we’re on the English Channel. We haven’t been able to catch a break. The Milan base was something else. But we got to rest up for a few days in Czechoslovakia, although we couldn’t stay long; Nazi territory. But me and Bucky where able to take a few pictures together, with Jim’s camera. They’re enclosed. I can’t detail much about where we’re headed next; but I can tell you this is not how I imagined traveling the world, with me being on the Axis Powers’ wanted list. Guess we’ll have to do it all again when it’s over. Have you received any letters from Maria? I can’t believe you haven’t introduced her to me yet. I can’t wait to meet her. 

The Better Stark, Y/N.

Carefully putting the letter inside the envelope, you would give it to the captain in the morning to mail it. Wrapping a silk robe around your nightgown, you made your way to the main deck. It was nights like these that made you hopeful of a world without war. Taking a deep breath and staring out at the water, you heard a creak behind you, slowly turning around-

“Hiya there, darlin’ ” Bucky said, wringing his hands together. He looked nervous. 

Giving him a smile, you wrapped your arms around him and brought your lips to his, giving him a peck. “What’re you doin’ awake, Buck?” 

“s’ couldn’t sleep. Heard you got up. Thought I’d keep you company.” he said, bringing you to rest on his chest.

“The stars look beautiful tonight.”

“You know who else looks beautiful tonight, doll? you.”

“Buck, I-” 

“I want to watch the stars with you forever.” he clenched is jaw. He was practically shaking. 

There was a silence, with the exception of the waves crashing against the boat. 

“Marry me.”

“Bucky, what?”

“You heard me correctly. Marry me, won’t you?”

“I- but my brother. And there’s a war- elopement?”

“No buts. I asked permission via a letter. Should’ve seen him. And I checked with that Captain of yours Tommy Andrews, was it? He has a license. We could get married the second we get back to London.”

“Let’s - Let’s do it. I love you so much, Buck.”

“Yeah? Ready to become Mrs. Stark-Barnes?”

“Born Ready.”

He kisses you deeply, wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair when you separated. He was the luckiest man on earth. 

~~~~~~

CHRISTMAS EVE 1944.

LONDON, ENGLAND. 

It felt to so good to be back in London. It was truly a second home at this point. It had been a few months since getting engaged, and a few weeks since your last HYDRA base explosion in Hungary.

Bucky had given you his mother’s ring, a plain gold band. But you loved it nonetheless. It symbolized the relationship you had built over the past year, and the love you would share as husband and wife. 

Howard hadn’t been thrilled, but didn’t let it show for your sake. Which brings you to where you are now, At Peggy’s townhouse in London, celebrating Christmas Eve with the fellow Howlies, Howard, General Philips, and Tommy Andrews, all sitting around the dining table. 

“So- you two got engaged. Kept it a secret for months- and pretended it would be okay to tell us a week ago?” Dum Dum Dugan said, wiping his mouth after chugging his beer. 

“I know right- they are really the most rude.” Howard said, sitting back with a smirk, sipping his wine. 

“Howard, leave the kids alone. When’s the wedding?” General Phillips asked. 

“Well we were- we really have no idea. There’s not very many venues open.” 

Tommy interrupted “I could do it.” 

There was silence around the table. “I’m licensed. In 40 states, actually.”

Peggy smiled at this. “A Christmas wedding!” 

“We’re all here! It could happen.” 

“Hear, Hear!” 

Before you knew it, Tommy had grabbed a bible and everyone had been sitting around you and Bucky, watching you.

“Repeat after me. I take you, James Buchanan Barnes as my loving husband, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.”

“I take you, James Buchanan Barnes, as my loving husband, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live.”

“I now pronounce you- husband and wife. You may kiss the bri- or you could do that too.”

Bucky was kissing you deeply, with hand at the back of your head and one around your waist, spinning you around.

“Alright, Alright. Break it up. Welcome to the family, Barnes.” Howard said, shaking his hand.

Yeah. A Christmas to remember. 

~~~~~~ 

FEBRUARY 1ST, 1945.

THE SWISS ALPS. 

It had been almost two months since you had married Bucky on that warm Christmas Eve in London. Ever since then, the smell of hope in the air had followed you into the new year. 

The Allies were closing in. It would only be a few more months before the war was over, or so Winston Churchill had said over the radio. Now, you were on one of the last missions with the Howlies. It really wasn’t the last mission, but you could feel it in the air. All the war and destruction was finally going to come to an end. 

“This won’t be like Coney Island, right? Where you made me ride the cyclone and I got sick?” Bucky asked, gripping our hand.

“You did that, Steve?”

“I did, Y/N. And why would I do that now?”

“We were right, Steve. Zola’s on the train.” Gabe said, leaning closer to the radio to hear the transmission. “We’re in the right place. HYDRA’s given him permission to open the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him badly.” 

“We must get going. They’re moving like the devil.”

“Well. We’ve only got a ten second window! You miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield.” Steve said, putting his hook on the zip-line. 

First was Steve, the, Bucky, then you, followed by Gabe. 

Quickly, the four of you had moved across the top of the train and gotten inside. You were shooting up the HYDRA soldiers, but they just always did seem to be one step ahead of you. 

You had successfully dodged several bullets, until a hole was blown into the middle of the train. It had pulled you and Bucky out, hanging by a single metal bar. 

“Bucky! Y/N! Hang on! I’m coming to get you!” Steve yelled. 

You tried to use your powers to move the bar up, but it didn’t seem to work, and it hurt your head immensely, causing you to scream. 

“Stevie! Stevie. Take her first. Please. If anyone makes it out of here, its gonna be her.”

“Bucky, no! Hang on, please!” you said, through sobs. 

“We’re going to be okay! Steve, grab her arm.”

Steve was able to pull you to the train safely. Now the situation was getting Bucky in.

“Bucky, grab my hand!”

Bucky reached out to Steve, but what he didn’t realize was that this was putting to much weight on the bar. 

You’ll never forget his screams as he fell down. It would haunt you as long as you lived. 

“NO! BUCKY! COME BACK!” 

You could hear Steve crying before eventually helping him on the train. He collapsed into your arms, both crying. 

James Buchanan Barnes; soldier, friend and husband was gone.

~~~~~~

A/N: I nearly burst into tears. feedback is appreicated!

- Talya

[thehoodsweetheart]

Sandcastles | Part IV.

A/N: I want to start by apologizing for taking so long to create Part 4 to Sandcastles. I had writer’s block for a while and then life got in the way. I hope you all enjoy this. I will be continuing this series. No real music inspo for this part. The picture above is just adorable but not a depiction of Y/N and Iman. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammatical errors. It might be a bit rough. I was just trying to get this out.

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Slight Angst (?), Mentions Violence, Hints of emotional abuse, Mentions Miscarriage, Hints at abortion, possible triggers

Summary: Y’all not getting one this time.

Erik x Black Reader (will always be a Black reader. Sorry not Sorry).

——————————————————————————–

        Erik remained seated on the leather couch of his living room holding his phone to his ear yet still silent. His mouth opened but he soon shut it, as he was unable to form words. The sensation of his chest tightening followed by the familiar lump in his throat nagged at him. Erik leaned forward his elbows planted on top of his knees. His shoulders tensed. The feeling of regret washed over him for the umpteenth time. He had felt this too many times for his liking. The one person who for years brought him peace was bringing the storm. If he had to choose he’d say it was a hurricane followed by tsunami. The type of damage that it could cause would have anyone questioning if God was mad at the world. But Erik was the source, and he was internalizing just how much pain he was still causing you.

       The tone of your voice was enough to make him feel like scum. This was the second time that afternoon you had called him in a panic. The first was after his text threatening to kill the movers. Of course he listened to you and didn’t kill them… but he was already seeing red. It was too late for him to not do anything, at all. In Erik’s mind, at very least they deserved their ass beat for banging on the door like the police after he told them to get off of his property. Erik did just that. He beat their ass. The movers definitely needed to be in someone’s emergency room getting checked out for cracked ribs, a broken nose, maybe even a broken jaw. In Eric’s mind, this was light damage in comparison to what he wanted to do. They put themselves in the way of being the target of his frustration. Nonetheless, his logic could do no justice nor could it sooth your worries.

        You continued to yell at him through sobs, full blown hiccupping sobs. Erik hated the fact that for the countless time in less than two weeks, he was the reason you were crying. Some things you said he could barely understand due to your crying, but he sat there taking it all in, staring at his bruising knuckles as he assessed the damage made. What he could make out was that you were sick of his shit.

“Y/N, come on. I’m sorry alright? I know I fucked up…again, but please try to calm down princess. It’s too much stress on the baby.” Erik finally took a jab at some type of reasoning with you.

       He knew the potential consequences of high stress during pregnancy. In fact, you and Erik were not strangers to the disappointment and heartache that miscarriage could bring.  You two had suffered a miscarriage before conceiving Iman. Although, neither of you knew that you were pregnant until Erik rushed you to the hospital for what he thought was a possible rupture appendix, only to receive the heartbreaking news that you lost your first child.

       The first pregnancy was not exactly planned. Erik had been teasing you since you guys’ third date that he was going to get you pregnant one day. At that point you hadn’t even been intimate with him yet. He was nowhere near being ready to be a parent at that time. Erik was genuinely amused at how you would roll your eyes and scoff every time he mentioned it. It was just something he teased about more than anything. He loved to get a reaction out you. Nonetheless when he did imagine himself having children, he knew you were the only woman he’d envisioned. So when the time actually came and you miscarried, it triggered his fear of loss. Erik in term became even more overprotective of you, if that was even possible.

“STRESS?! STRESS ON THE BABY?! NIGGA YOU ARE THE STRESS ON THE BABY!”  You cried out. Erik pinched the bridge of his nose taking a deep breath. He could hear Iman crying in the background.

“Just…come home love. Let me take care of you and Iman. Let me try to fix us for real. All this yelling and shit probably has Iman scared.”

“EXACTLY ERIK! She is! This is just too much for me. ” Y/N sniffled. “Why would I ever come back? You make me physically sick to my stomach. You can’t even control yourself. What if they press charges? What if they sue me for putting them in that situation?”

           It was the truth. You were always right. He sighed in defeat. He knew he blew it once again.

“They not fuckin stupid. Them niggas was trynna take my family from me.” Erik mumbled. “I can have T’ch-“

“Don’t you dare” You cut him off. “T’challa? Really Erik?! T’Challa can’t solve your problems or be your voice of reason for you… and YOU lost your family on your own. Nobody  took us from you but  you.” Y/n ended the call immediately after, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

           Erik was left with is thoughts and your last statement replaying in his mind like a broken record. He was the cause of this entire situation and that was a tough pill to swallow. He was still at square one without the slightest clue on how to fix you all’s relationship. Maybe he did need to get himself together before he tried to pursue the mending of his family?

           Erik smacked his lips before picking up his phone once more. He scrolled through his contacts begrudgingly tapped a name he hadn’t dialed in almost a year. It was time he visited his therapist. He listened to the ringing before a chipper voice answered. It was his therapist’s secretary that annoyed him with her overly cheerful persona.

“Dr. Lang’s office, Amber speaking. How may I help you?”

“It’s Erik Stevens. Can you get Dr. Lang on the phone…immediately.”

“Sorry Mr. Stevens, but Dr. La—“ Amber hesitated.

“I’m not gone ask again.” Erik barked.

           Amber tried to cover gasp of astonishment with clearing her throat and politely telling Erik to hold. Amber knew exactly who Erik was, and against her better judgment she’d eavesdropped on his past sessions. It took less than 3 minutes for Dr. Lang to pick up the line.

“Mr. Udaku-Stevens, it’s been a while. How are you?”

“My wife left me.” It pained Erik to utter those words aloud.

“Ah! Well, how about you come in tomorrow 9 AM? If your schedule permits…”

“I’ll be there.” Erik kept it short hanging up the phone.

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

        You threw your phone down on the bed staring blankly into space. The sensation of saliva thickening in your mouth brought your attention to the nausea you had been trying to ignore. You used your sleeve to hastily wipe away the tears left on your face. You didn’t owe him a goodbye. You could barely comprehend why you were talking to him in the first place. Why do you always feel the obligation to reason with Erik? And to an extent, why did you still bare the burden of trying to protect him from himself? Erik could be his own worst enemy with his self-sabotaging fits of rage.

        Your thoughts were interrupted by a shriek that came from Iman as her cries intensified. Iman was having a full on fit. Her round golden face was now tinted in a red hue, hot tears spewed down her face, and her dimples piercing her cheeks as she flailed her chubby fist. Iman was teething and it was giving her the blues. You picked her up cuddling her close to your chest, rubbing small circles in her back, attempting to sooth her. A teething baby was a force to be reckoned with. You’d given her some medication in hopes of breaking her fever but just by touch you could tell that it had barely worked. Iman pushed at your chest and if you could guess you would only assume she didn’t want you to hold her.

       A light knock came to the bedroom door, before it cracked open far enough for your twin brother, JR, to peak in. With an exhausted yet concerned look on his face, he scratched his full beard looking at you and Iman. He had returned from football practice less than an hour ago and his usual routine would have been to take a shower then nap. It was apparent that that was interrupted. His expression softened as you made eye contact.

“What you in here doin’ to my niece?” he joked trying to lighten the mood. JR staggered further into the room. “What’s wrong wit my lil baybeh?” He cooed as he took Iman from your arms.

“She’s teething and sleepy so she’s fussy.” Y/N mumbled letting out a heavy sigh.

       JR cradled her in his muscular arms as Iman clung to him beginning to calm down. He was practically the same build as Erik. The idea of her possibly missing her father crossed your mind, and by no means were you intending to keep her from Erik, but taking her back to him was out of the question. You weren’t sure if he was in the right mental space and seeing his face only made you angry.

       You stood up from the bed briskly walked over to the adjoining bathroom shutting the door. You couldn’t resist the urge to vomit any longer. It was starting to make you feel physically weak. What more could you possibly throw up when you haven’t even brought yourself to so much even eat a grape in six hours? Your body was giving up all it had to give, and at this point it was only bile. You clung to the porcelain toilet wondering if this was all a test of faith. Why was everything falling apart? Why was this pregnancy so hard? Better yet, why was life so hard right now? How come you couldn’t be home with a supportive and faithful husband like believed he was at some point?

“She ain’t the only fussy one wit all that yelling you was doing at her Daddy.” JR mumbled as you walked back into the room collapsing on the bed.

“You heard all that? Sorry.” You knew you probably didn’t even need to apologize, but who really wants to come home to a bunch of drama that has nothing to do with them. JR waved you off with a nonchalant look.

“Don’t worry about. Take it easy though. You look…dehydrated.”

“Are you calling me thirsty?” You retorted with cut eyes.

“No nigga! You literally look dehydrated like you need Gatorade or coconut water. It’s some in the fridge.” JR shook his head as he readjusted Iman in his arms laying her head on his shoulder. Iman’s wails had settled to a soft whine by now.

“Thanks but I doubt that I could stomach either of those.”

“Is that normal? Being pregnant and all? That shit seem like a bad hangover and virus combined.”

“I don’t really know. I didn’t go through this with Iman. I had some cramping and nausea but this is just…ugh... Wassup? You getting ready to have a baby I don’t know about?”

“Hell nah. My niece and future nephews are enough. I got a good five to ten years before I let somebody trap me.” He shrugs.

“Excuse me? You don’t know if I’m having a boy or not. And you said nephews with an S. You trynna make me sicker something?”

“I’m just concerned with your health. It got my twin senses doing weird shit. Maybe you should try to see your doctor before your appointment? I’m trynna tell you, you’re super sick cuz you having triplets. What you gone do with four kids under 2?” JR commented earning an eye roll.  Here he goes with the twin sense stuff. Sure it’s a real thing but JR could be a bit dramatic.

“I’m NOT having triplets. Are you crazy?” JR smacks his teeth.

“I’m not crazy but me and niecey gone take a nap on the couch. If you still lookin’ like you getting ya ass whooped from the inside out in a hour, then I’m taking you to the hospital.”

4 hours later

           After enduring an hour wait in the emergency room waiting room, you had been pricked and probed too much for your liking. The past few hours consisted of countless tests and tubes of blood being drawn. You were already reluctant about going to the hospital in the first place. You would have rather gone to your regular OBGYN, but your brother insisted on taking you to the ER tonight. There was no doubting that you needed to see a doctor. How you were feeling was not the least bit normal and it was only getting worse.  

       It seemed like the nurses were more interested in your brother than what you were going through. Being that he is in the NFL, the attention was something he’d grown accustomed to. You on the other hand didn’t care. You almost snapped on one nurse who was so insistent on smiling in JR’s face, that she incorrectly inserted the IV in your arm four times. If you weren’t toting a sleeping Iman in your other arm, you probably would’ve caused a scene. At that point, JR excused himself from the room taking Iman with him. He stated that he wanted to give you privacy and limit the distractions.

           Hyperemesis Gravidarum was what the on duty physician diagnosed you with. Hyperemesis Gravidarum is a rare condition that causes sever uncontrollable nausea, vomiting, and dehydration. You stared down at your slightly protruding belly as the doctor continued to explain what the condition was. Your vision blurred as your eyes burned and your ears began to feel hot. You tried to process what the doctor was telling you but the sound of your heartbeat and breathing seemed to be battling over his voice. From what you could gather is that he was deeply concerned that you developed the condition with this pregnancy especially since it wasn’t your first. If it concerned him, it surely scared the hell out of you.

“I’d like to do an ultrasound now to make sure everything it alright with the baby. We gotta take care of mommy and baby.” He said while holding out a Kleenex box and using his free hand to pat your knee. He called over a technician who wheeled over the ultrasound machine.

“What if it’s not?” Your voice became small, almost child like. Fear was starting to get the best of you. You went through a miscarriage before and didn’t want to face another one.

“We’re going to stay hopeful, Y/N. Something tells me I know a possible answer for this condition. The circumstances can vary…” He said as he turned on the ultrasound machine before pouring the cool gel on your lower abdomen. The doctor placed the device against your abdomen causing you to slightly jump due to its warm surface catching you off guard.

           The crackling of static when the device touched your stomach was followed by the blaring rapid heartbeats offsetting each other. The doctor turned the monitor to give you a better view of the screen. Moving the device around, the doctor zoomed into a particular area. He studied the monitor and his once stoic facial expression cracked with a glint of satisfaction. Your line of sight moved from the provider’s face to the monitor before the two of you. You froze, blinking a few times to be sure you were seeing correctly. Your breathing became shallow as you opened your mouth to speak then immediately closing it. Is this really happening?  You sat there wide-eyed trying to take in this moment.

“Is that—are those—“ You attempted to ask before the doctor cut you off nodding.

“Congratulations Mommy! Looks like you’re having twins with very strong heartbeats might I add.” He announced with a smile. “Which is what I thought was triggering your condition. Would you like us to bring in the proud papa and big sister from the waiting room?”

You lowered your head shaking it as uncontrollable tears began to pour down your face. You couldn’t quite understand your own emotions.  Are you happy? Are you upset? You should be happy… right?

“H-He’s not the dad. He’s my twin brother.” You stuttered.

“How exciting! A twin having twins!” A young nurse perked up with a smile in attempts to lighten the mood. You offered her a soft smile as you wiped your eyes. There was still an obvious presence of your lack of enthusiasm.

“Are you okay Y/N?” The doctor inquired with a concerned expression, for which you simply nodded. “There are options you can discuss with your assigned OBGYN. You’re still in your first trimester, which is a trying time for a multiples pregnancy. We have a few pamphlets here that might help, but don’t hesitate to inquire about any of your concerns.”

“I understand. I’ll discuss it with her.” You said just above a whisper.

“Great, now let’s get these fluids hooked back up to your IV. I’m writing you a prescription to hopefully help with the nausea and excessive vomiting. I think you should stay overnight for observation. We really need to get a handle on your dehydration.” He stated while typing into the computer.

        Great, now you had to stay in the hospital. Who could watch Iman until your discharged? It was pretty late in the evening and JR is having an early start the next day. Your mom wasn’t exactly your greatest support system. Your grandma adored Iman but you know that Iman can be a bit of a busy body for her. You could call Nakia but there was a chance that T’Challa would tell Erik you were in the hospital. That was the last thing you wanted. They were still the best candidates. You could hardly find a baby sitter for one child, what were you going to do with three? How were you going to handle being single mother with three kids? Life comes at you fast.

       You closed your eyes for a moment laying your head back against the observation bed. You were starting to feel nauseous again. You opened them looking at the empty chair next to where the doctor placed pictures from the ultrasound with markings for baby a, and baby b. Underneath the ultrasound were the pamphlets for the options he hinted at earlier. Your hands began to sweat as you reached for them. You stared blankly at the one on top.

“It’s my body right…”

*************

Tag list

@purple-apricots @chaneajoyyy @toniilaney @wakanda-inspired @almeda-344 @desireatatyana

@wakandalivesforever @yoyolovesbucky @beaut1fulone-blog @sarcastic-sunshines

@elaindeereads @soufcakmistress @bujotellsyourstory @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir

@theblulife @leilaxaliel @uzumaki-rebellion @cutewylie @yourwonderbelle @letsshamelessqueen-m

[papa-rhys]

Return (Javier X Reader)

Note: Have a lil cutesy reunion with Javier after he comes home from guarma, courtesy of me. Enjoy!

Category: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1853

You’ve been the de facto leader of the Van der Linde gang for just over 3 weeks now and with each day spent waiting for the boys’ return, the gang grow less and less hopeful that they’ll come back at all. You all stand to lose a lot if they never come home, since you all care for those boys greatly, and without Dutch, the gang may not be able to move much further forward than this. But you have your heart tied up in the boys’ venture across the seas. See, Javier has taken ownership of that tender organ that beats at your core and you’re scared you’ll grow cold without it, should you never see him again.

You and Sadie have worked particularly hard these past few weeks; both of you feeling a niggling desire to prove yourselves to the few that think that Dutch has left them in incapable hands. With Pinkertons breathing down your necks, you’d had to flee from the old rickety mansion at Shady Belle – not really a sore loss, considering the state of the place, but at least it was better than the unforgiving hellhole that you find yourselves in now. Lakay, Lemoyne: where the foulest creatures on earth come to rot in swamp water and other unspeakable gunk. You suppose there’s some comparison to be had between those creatures and yourselves, but that’s a thought that you can’t spare the time for right now.

You sit on the porch of one of these horrid little houses that you’d… respectfully relieved the previous owners of. It may be a living nightmare in these parts – filled with alligators and bugs and the elusive Night Folk – but at least it’s quiet. Although you think that’s more likely to be due to Micah not being here, rather than the location itself. It’s just gone sunset and the sky behind the trees is turning a darker shade of purple with each minute. That makes yet another day without any sign of the boys and you can feel your faith dwindling down closer to mere embers every time you’re forced to go to bed alone.

“Y/N?” Charles’ voice speaks from behind you, warm and soft in its tone.

You turn to look over your shoulder as you sit in your chair with your feet up on the railing that encompasses the deck. “Oh hey,” you sigh, giving him a weak smile.

He steps up onto the deck and makes his way over to where you sit, pulling up another chair and sitting beside you. “Sadie went into town and picked up some supplies for us. Pearson’s fixin’ some food now.”

“That��s great,” you nod. “Folks could use some proper food. I’m getting’ sick of alligator eggs.”

“Yeah, me too,” Charles chuckles. There’s a short silence before he speaks again. The two of you look out into the swamp and you wonder if this place gives Charles the creeps as much as it does you. “They’ll come back,” he tells you and you turn your head to find him already looking at you. “Javier knows what he’s doin’. He’s with Dutch and Arthur… he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe.”

“Y/N!” Sadie’s voice whispers from the shack next to the one you sit on the porch of. You look to her and she’s crouched down with a rifle in her hand, pointing out towards the trail that leads into this tiny cluster of houses. “We got company.”

Charles hands you his rifle and pulls his sawed-off from the holster at his hip. Keeping quiet, you both slide out of your chairs and drop to the floor and you signal for him to go around the right side of the shack whilst you take the left side; both of you staying low as you move into position. You’d all prepared for this; Pinkertons, cops, whoever is it. It was only a matter of time before they found you again and since Dutch and the others so kindly left you all to handle things yourselves, you’d wasted no time training up the less combat-ready members of the group.

You pull up your rifle and aim it steady, focusing completely on the figure that slowly approaches through the darkness as if it were the only thing on earth. The figure is unrecognisable among the fog and poor lighting of the swamp and whoever it is keeps quiet on their approach, hobbling down the trail on a seemingly injured leg.

“Who is it?” Karen’s voice whispers.

You turn to find the rest of the gang hidden low in the windows of the main building; all armed and ready to fight since the gang is down 5 of its best fighters.

“We can’t see ‘em yet,” you respond, keeping a keen eye on the figure as it continues to limp forward.

You watch as they move closer and you lower your weapon and squint to get a better look at the man you’re seeing. He’s dressed in a tattered dress shirt that used to be bright white but is now a shade of grey. He looks beaten and weathered and he’s sporting a bloody bandage wrapped around his leg as he limps into the centre of the clearing. You take a sharp breath in and hold it, waiting for confirmation that he’s real.

“It’s Javier!” Sadie calls out.

“Oh my god,” you say through an exhale of relief. Charles and Sadie stand up straight and the gang spill out of the shack at the end of the trail as you rush down the steps of the deck, dropping your rifle in the mud as you run towards Javier.

He greets you with his arms open and he catches you as you collide with him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. “Hola,” he says, rubbing gentle circles on your back with the palm of his hand.

You lift your head from the torn-up fabric on his shoulder and cup his face with both your hands, planting a kiss on his lips. “I thought you were dead,” you tell him, repeating the phrase a few times. “I thought you were dead.”

The gang approach the spot where the two of you stand and your attention is pulled away from Javier as the others swoop in to welcome him home. “What happened there?” Charles asks, nodding his head towards Javier’s injured leg as he pulls him into a brief hug.

“Got shot,” Javier states, causing your heart to beat faster with fear.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” Charles says and the two of you help Javier walk over to the main building to get fixed up.

You carefully wrap a fresh dressing around Javier’s leg, being as gentle as possible as he holds a lantern over you so you can see what you’re doing. The two of you sit opposite each other on wooden chairs in the corner of the room, tucked away from everyone else whilst you fix up Javier’s leg properly. Whoever has bandaged him up overseas hadn’t done a very good job at cleaning the wound first, but you suppose they didn’t have much in the way of resources, so you’ll excuse them if and when they return. Javier had told you of Dutch’s plan to arrive home separately as you’d stitched up the bullet hole in his leg. Well, he’d explained the plan between obscenities and gasps, but you’d caught the gist of it, at least. All you can do is wait and hope that the others made it too, but for now you’re happy enough with Javier.

“Looks like you make a good leader, mi amor,” Javier smiles, watching you intently as you dress his wound. “Everyone looks better cared for than when we left.”

“Yeah, hopefully Dutch doesn’t feel too threatened by me when he gets back,” you joke. “We might have to fist-fight for dominance.”

“I think that’d be the first fight that I’d bet against Dutch in.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“It’s okay, he’s a few miles away. I don’t think he can hear us from here.”

You shake your head with a wide smile as Javier throws his head back and chuckles at his own joke, causing the lantern to swing above you as he does so. “Will you keep that lantern still?” you giggle.

He reaches his other arm up to steady it until it’s still again. “My arm’s getting tired. Are you nearly done?”

You tuck the end of the bandage into itself and smooth it out gently with your fingers. “I’m done,” you smile and Javier leans forward in his seat to kiss you.

The kiss starts out as a peck, but the two of you quickly come to realise that after so long apart, neither of you are satisfied with a measly peck on the lips. The kiss deepens as Javier lowers the lantern and places it on the floor beside his chair before curling his fingers around your waist and pulling you forward out of your chair and onto his lap. “Careful,” you tell him, breaking the kiss as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly; kissing your shoulder once or twice for good measure. “Your leg.”

“Ay, I’m okay,” he assures you. “If I can’t have my love sit in my lap and nurse me back to health then what was the point in coming home at all?”

“Oh, behave,” you smile. You rub your fingers up the underside of his waistcoat collar and pull them back to find them covered in mud that they’d collected from underneath the fabric. “What the hell did you boys get up too out there?” you ask, your laugh mixing with the horrified look on your face to form a combination that Javier finds most amusing. You flick the mud off your fingers and wipe them on the front of his shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to wash our clothes after we were shipwrecked,” he laughs, adjusting you in his lap. “We were kinda busy with other things.”

“My god,” you gasp, your smile dropping as you look him in the eye.

“What?” he asks, concern washing over his features.

“Javier Escuella without access to clean clothes…”

“Ay, ay, okay,” Javier nods, grinning and rolling his eyes as he realises the trap you just laid out for him.

“You must have suffered so badly,” you tease, pinching his cheek. “I can’t believe those nasty boys dragged you all the way out there into the wilderness with only one outfit. How could they be so cruel?”

“You’re real sympathetic,” Javier says sarcastically. “You know I got shot, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll never let me forget it,” you rib, snaking your hands up his chest and wrapping your fingers around the nape of his neck.

“You should be waiting on me hand and foot.”

“You should be so lucky,” you retort, leaning in closer.

“I don’t feel very lucky,” he says quietly with a feigned pout.

“Well lets see about changing that, shall we?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his as you speak the words before kissing him once more.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 10

Title & Song: Black Treacle

Characters: Alfie Solomons x OFC

Word Count: 5100+ (To get you through the long weekend)

Summary: Genevieve is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. She’s been intrigued by Alfie since she met him, but where should she draw the line between business and pleasure now that she’s caught his attention? 

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Black Treacle by Arctic Monkeys  The songs give a good background to the stories and have some further insight into the characters. All text in italics is spoken in French.

Part 1: Thieves & Kings.- Pt. 2 Conquest - Pt. 3 Nail In My Coffin - Pt. 4 - 60 Feet Tall Pt. 5 I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor Pt. 6 Stop The World Pt 7 Making A Fool Of You Pt 8 L'Amour et la violence Pt 9 Play With Fire Pt 11 These Stones Will Shout

My Masterlist. 

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer​ @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r@iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @angry-kazoo-noises

He was asked to lead the blessings by the staff and carried out the ritual. He was flocked to by everyone but you basically. You sat back, feet up on the end of the dining room table, sipping the wine in your hand. You glance over at him to watch him charm the pants off the maids as you chuckle at the sight unfolding before your eyes. 

You know that he's aware he's charming, but you wonder if he's meaning to make the young dears sigh as he also touches shoulders and swats his hands at the men he's speaking with. You'll give him the benefit of the doubt after you see him so smoothly and passively reject one of the girls advances as her hand moves to touch his chest. You laugh into your glass at the pouting face of the poor thing.

You find yourself in the kitchen after dinner, sitting on a countertop while people move around and drink wine and converse. You feel like you're transported back to some of your fondest childhood memories. Except you sat on a potato sack back then, women didn’t sit on the countertops, you were told. Alfie has a glass of wine in his hand from dinner and so do you. He's up against one of the pale tiled walls, talking loudly with his hands and rolling out entertaining stories all the kitchen boys are just dying to hear. It takes you back home to France for a moment, you stare into your wine glass, watching it swirl and dance, sticking to the edges of the glass and running down again in a daze, stuck in your memories for a nice warm moment, nights spent in a room not that different from the one you’re currently in come back to you vividly. You could see the smokey room and hear your uncles and cousins shouting at one another. All arguments ended in the oldest always putting the youngest in a headlock and then they'd all start laughing again. Your Uncle pointing his finger at you with a wink as he catches you holding a bottle of rum, laughing loudly he takes it from you as he pulls you into his arms. "Peu lis!" he'd shout at you in an affectionate scold, his eyes sparkling with love and amusement. You can still feel the scratch of his coat under your hands.The boom of his voice as he laughed and cursed while he retold stories of your mischief and it made you feel loved to be spoken of so endearingly. He always knew how to make you feel special when he saw your pre-determined life was starting to steal your smile from your face. No other male figure had done that for you growing up, certainly not your own father.Least of all him. Only those extended family members of your mothers. Your heart started to ache.

"Genevieve?" Alfie's low voice rips you from your time travel and your eyes flutter up to his, sitting under a raised brow, a slight look of concern on his face for you. "You alright?" he says lightheartedly, he flinches to reach out to touch you but hesitates and decides against it.

You clear your throat and blink and wiggle your face around for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I'm fine." you take a deep breath. "Deja vu of sorts." you sigh, "Got lost in my memories there for a moment, didn't I?" you give him a half smile, your eyes back to being set in reality.

"Well that's fine from time to time, innit?" he says with a gruff tone that holds no judgement.

You nod, your eyes moving about the room, there were fewer people around than the last time you looked. "Must be the wine." you say scrunching your nose, making an excuse for your daydream.

"You do look a little flushed, if you don't mind me saying." he nods his head to let you know he doesn't mean anything by it, making sure you didn't take offense.

"It's fine, Alfie." you say with a quiet chuckle, smiling and sliding off the counter. "Come, let's get some air. Not going to get better sitting in the scullery." you say, motioning for him to follow you.  

You've set your hand on the stone railing across your back patio, overlooking your garden. The moon is high and the sky is black against her. Small lights peppered across the lush ground of your garden give off the only light in the dense flora that carries back and fades as you reach the far end of the garden, your bees, and berries lying beyond that.

"I've not had the opportunity to tell you how lovely your home is, Gen." he says politely, his eyes focused, looking out into the garden.

"Thank you. I'm quite fond of it myself." you say back in the same tone, as your eyes wander. You sigh contently, moving towards the stairs. Feeling encapsulated in the bubble of your very aesthetically pleasing garden, flowers in clusters all along the right, a trail to a small secluded lily pod off the path, closer to the line of the woods, a small pond. To the left your personal garden of herbs, vegetables, and fruit. Farther back still on the left is the barn looking building which functions both as a garage and also a home to the horses you keep to help on the farm.

You turn your top half back towards him, he's already looking your way as you meet his eyes with yours. "Would you like a walk through the garden, Alfie? Seeing as you live here and all now I should show you around, shouldn't I?"

"In the middle of the night?" he asks, his eyes moving up to the moon and back to you.

"Yes. Why not? It's even more beautiful in the night. Are you frightened of the dark or something?" you give him a playful grin and a small laugh that shakes your shoulders just slightly. He purses his lips and lowers his brow at you.

"Scared of not being able to see a fuckin' thing and wastin' my time." he says with a light-hearted mocking tone.

You walk down the stairs with a shrug to the stone path laid into the ground around the small fountain. "I don't know...That sounds like something someone who's afraid of the dark would say." you snicker childishly and lower your head as you see him shake his.

"You serious?" he says, motioning with his hand to the air to emphasize his question.

"Yes! Well," you say with a small shrug,  "about showing you around, not so much the fear of the dark stuff." you call out, your shoulders slumping slightly and your expression is set in an easy going and teasing smile. "There are lights all over. C'mon, let me show you the garden." you hold out your arms as he gives in and walks down the stairs.

Without the need for coats, you're both dressed down, him in his white shirt that's partially untucked over his trousers, braces still hanging by his hips, the wind rustles the excess fabric of his shirt. You're in a navy sleeveless dress, the sheer fabric worn over a matching slip lets the cool breeze hit your skin and you welcome the sensation.

He mostly listens, although never short on words when asked for an opinion. You've shown and explained the sectors of the garden, told him what lands were around you and how far yours went. You, as usual, end up speaking of your flowers and garden like an old lover. He would always get oddly still when you'd start waxing poetic. He even stopped walking as you lilted on lavender at one juncture, watching you as you moved across the path, cooing about the lavender in the fields from your childhood and how currently, it's oils made you want to sleep when added your bath at night. The moon reflective off his eyes as they moved with you, his mouth set into a pleasant expression. When you met his gaze there would always be a smile waiting beneath his shifting mustache, but you didn't know if it stayed the whole time you spoke. --------------------------------------------------- "WHAT THE FUCK YA DOIN'?" you hear him shout as you unfocus your eyes and turn your torso to the sound of his voice. Your feet are still firmly planted shoulder-width apart, taking aim at the statue on the other side of the pond. He sees you standing in an authoritative pose with a gun in your hands. The dress you wore made you look as if you were displaced in time. The Lady Genevieve Greene of some time long ago, much resembling the lavender of the fields near your family's home in France you'd told him about the night before as it moved with the gentle morning breeze.  The laced edges of the neckline of the dress worn down on your arms with bare shoulders, the sheer violet fabric billowing out before being edged again with tiny white ribbon. The dress was cut in an empire waist, cinching just below the swell of your chest, covering the slip of matching color you wore underneath. The dress swung about your ankles, moving as your hips did, reminding him of a Bellflower. A white apron with big pockets was tied around your waist, a ribbon was loosely holding back your thick dark hair in a bow at the base of your neck.

"Target practice." you say obviously, your fingers wrapped around the pistol in your hands.

"You could fuckin' warn a man, ya know!" he says, shaking his cane in your direction as he trots down the small downward slope that conceals the pond from your garden.

"I'm used to living alone. I'll be more considerate next time." you say with an apologetic tone, turning back to the statue.

"Why are you shootin' at a statue anyway?" his tone is still slightly annoyed and his voice higher pitched in his animated words and hand movements.

"Because I fucking hate it." you state matter-of-factly. He laughs at your response and squints his eyes to look at it from a few feet behind you.  "Also because I need the practice." you let out a sigh and place the gun back into the pocket of your apron. "I've been using knives so much recently that I don't want to get rusty." you explain turning to him, wringing your hands.

"Why do you have this statue if you hate it so much?" he says, he continues around the pond since you've stopped shooting.

"Don't bother with it Alfie," you say in a groan, following behind him on the dirt path surrounded by dark green grass on either side. One side rolling up and into a tree line, the other side sloping down and into the water. You begrudgingly start to explain. "I had a statue commissioned in Paris before I moved here and I paid for it and it was shipped without me seeing it and I just," you let out another sigh and put your hands on your hips as you stop behind him, both looking up that the statue. "It makes me look like a fucking horse or something, I dunno." you start to mumble, your face frowning.

"That's supposed to be you?" he asks, his finger pointing at the statue. You move to stand next to the statue and pose in it's likeness, one hand on your hip, the other up and bent behind your head. "You don't see the resemblance?" you ask while making a contorted face and pushing the front of your nose up with the hand that had been on your hip. You roll your eyes and purse your lips in an exaggerated way to show your distaste for it. He lets out a low laugh and shakes his head at you.

"No, I 'spose not. I mean I only know what you're face looks like, right? So I can't very well speak as to the accuracy of the rest of it now, can I? " he smirks and shrugs and doesn't look at you, his eyes remain mischievious and focused on the nude statue.

"Alfie." you scold in a laugh and reach out the playfully smack his arm but he leans out the way easily as you're pawing very slowly at him. "You cheeky boy," you say with a very amused scoff, it coming out higher pitched that you intended. You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your finger at him. "Don't you worry yourself with those resemblances," you say while walking past him. He can't help but let out another small chuckle before turning to follow you, being relieved he had found that you could, in fact, take a joke at your own expense. "What are your plans for the rest of your morning since it seems my practice roused you early?" you ask, not looking back at him, you could hear him walking behind you, the pattern of his steps and barely noticing his cane hitting the ground. Did he even need that thing?

"Well, since you decided to go shoot yourself so early in the day I hadn't had time to consider yet." he says, his voice back to it's even and gruff sound.

You let a huff of a laugh out at his choice of words. "You have a spare moment to give me now?" you ask, now stopping and waiting for him as you stand in the fork in the path.

"What d'ya need me for, eh?" he asks with no hesitation.

"I don't require anything but your company," you say your shoulder slightly rising with a polite smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to take that tour now. Know what's in the house, see where what I sell you comes from." you state, your hands clasped together at the end of your fully extended arms.

"Well I did start my day off earlier than intended, dinnit I?" he asks rhetorically. "And I would like to meet these bees of yours. What with the way you talk about 'em an all."

"House first. Then breakfast and to the Apiary before swinging back around and I'll let you go." you suggest, turning to move towards the house he motions with his hand for you to continue on your way as he falls in behind you.

You take him into the house through a less obvious backdoor into the cellar and up and into the kitchen leading into the main hall. You skip the guest wing and the dining room as he's already familiar. The ballroom at the side of the house opposite the dining room, separated by a large entryway and lobby into the house, the embossed with white and gold designs on the ceiling starting to twinkle in the early morning light that came in through the large window above the front door and the window in the top of the domed ceiling over the entryway. You show him your wing. You elect not to show him your bedrooms, didn't want him getting too friendly too soon or being given the impression that was what this was about. You lead him through your study that serves as an office when needed. You lead him up the metal spiral staircase tucked away behind a large bookshelf that leads to the second floor of your wing. You do a casual peek at your leisure room, some dance, some singing, and music when the mood struck you.

You come to your studio. You're excited and he can read it in your body language, but not much on your face. But as you finally turn to open the door, exposing the large space, large windows with heavy velvet curtains pulled back to let the light in. A circular raised platform in the middle where your stool and an easel, currently holding your work in progress sit. Workbenches across the wall, a desk, fainting couch and room divider placed around the other side of the room. The wooden floor was covered with various colored ornate rugs, with furniture upholstered in various jewel tones. Canvas and tarps propped up against walls, in the far corners of the room, a male and female set of statues stand in recessed sections of the wall.

You stand by the door as he walks into the room, his eyes wide as he studies the currently mostly dark background covered canvas in the room, it was large and called all the attention to itself.

"You painted these?" he asks, his chin pushing into his neck, eyebrows furrowed with curiosity as his hand slices through the air, directing your attention to contents of the room.

"One of my hobbies." you nod proudly.

"Why steal 'em at all if you can just paint them yourself?' he asks in an amused tone, shrugging his shoulders in a huff.

"Not as much fun to have an imitation of the real thing is it?" you answer his seemingly rhetorical question as he comes back to you, not wanting to pry too much into a room of such personal significance to you. He didn't want to show his greed for information about you. He lived in the house now so surely he could find the time to have a look at what was covered from sight in this room.

"S'pose you're right on that, yeah?" he nods with an agreeable face as his hand comes out to show you to lead once again.

Your main discussion over breakfast was your personal garden. Telling him about what was used from it in the meal and what you would be having coming up with the seasons changing. He finds himself not holding his tension in his shoulders for the first time all week. Your voice is soft when you're at home he finds. It's been speaking about things you loved in a sweet tone that had lulled him the entire morning.

Now he's listening to you greet your hives, you spill compliments to them in French, the way you have such a calmness to your actions in the midst of the seeming chaos of movement and noise make a heavy sigh build in his chest. You were a bit hypnotizing, he'd thought when he would watch the way your eyes would go intensely focused and almost command things from their target. They were currently showing the fast way you took in information from sight alone. You're speaking softly to the man in the full netted suit. Your face lights up as you point to another hat and shuffle your way excitedly towards him.

"Don't be shy, Solomons, come introduce yourself." you grin, placing a hat and net on his head. He adjusts it as he follows you towards the source of the buzzing down the path between the numerous short stacks of hives.

"Telly has found a virgin queen and I can't have you miss this." He laughs silently behind you at your enthusiasm as your hand is firmly wrapped around his, tugging him along despite his lack of defiance.

"Virgin queen? Didn't know bees cared about such things." he kids. You snort in response.

"Means she's new." he sees your shoulders moving as you quietly chuckle at him. "She's piping and I want you to see what I meant when I said they sing."

"I remember you saying that, yeah." he nods, eyes wide and now very aware of the buzzing around the opened hive you were approaching. You keep hold of his hand even though you've stopped. You don't even notice in your excitement as it feels natural to do such a thing.

He gives a polite nod of acknowledgment to Telly. "There's the little lady." you coo, touching the bees so delicately with one bare finger, moving them just slightly. He'd never seen someone do such a thing. Who sticks their fingers into a mass of bees? Especially in the fearless, tender way you did.  The difference in the queen and the others was so slight that he wouldn't have noticed if he'd been given hours to look at the vibrating and constantly shifting mass of tiny bodies. He sees first hand now that you really do know what you're talking about with the buzzy buggers. "Look at her go, now she's singing." He can hear the sound. But the pride on your face is what he's really interested in. He hears the intervals of melodic buzzing. Piiiiiiiip - pip-pip-pip. "Her little wings rub together to make the sound. Much like a cricket," you explain softly, looking up at him for a moment while you speak. "Can you hear her?" you ask, still doe-eyed at the bee.

"She's got a lovely voice, Genevieve." he grins as you meet him with a pure, closed mouth smile.

You stand and clasp your hands together, sighing. "I'll get out of your hair, Tel. I know you'll be as busy as they are with new queens." you eyebrows raise and the man nods back at you with a kind expression. "Don't want to scare off Mr. Solomons now do we?" you smirk as you turn to walk out of the fenced area. Once you're at the gate, you take his hat off of him, hanging it on the fence post. "If you're around them enough and they get used to you, you won't have to wear the hat anymore." you explain, turning back to walk down the path to the house.

"Genny and her bees." he hums in amusement. "I'm surprised you allow other queens to share your space." he jokes.

"Well I'm a very gracious ruler, aren't I?" you laugh with a swivel of your chin in jest.

"Very gracious indeed, Genny bee." he says with a nod and a mischievous grin. You felt like you'd be hearing that nickname again from him whether you acknowledged it or not. You let him have his fun. --------------- You are in your study, looking over blueprints for a proposed job. It was late but you weren't going to bed. If you tried you would lie in bed and be thinking about doing this so it was useless. The house has been quiet for some time now. You're in the middle of solving the maze of hallways when you hear a noise shift outside your door and in your focused state you instinctively reach for your gun under your desk and pull it and hold it to the door before you look up to see who is on the other end of your aim. You hear a shuffling noise followed by a clearing of a throat as he rounds the doorframe and into view.

The look he gives you is not immediately of worry as you're used to and the almost offended but still amused look on his face makes you roll your eyes before lowering your gun and laying it on the far side away from him on your desk.

"Lovely to see you as well Genevieve, yeah?" he says in a mocking tone as he holds out his arms and walks towards your desk.

You tilt your head but hold out your hand for him to not come closer and he gives you a puzzled expression. "I was focused and forgot you lived here for a moment. The maids know not to bother me in here." you shrug implying he already knew the rest of how that story played out.

"Right." he says, nodding, chin down, looking at your hand, still unsure of the gestures motive.

"Before you get any closer to this desk I'm going to need a very honest answer to a very serious question." your face loses the amusement at him it held just moments before, now reserved.

"Then a very honest answer you will receive." he nods, moving his hand for you to continue, welcoming the question.

"Are we at a place in our professional and personal relationship where I can allow you to see or know things that are not involved in your personal business affairs and not have to worry about you selling or giving, by any other means, my information to anyone, ever?" you rest your hands back on top of each other, your forearms on your desk.

He nods with a thoughtful face at you, impressed by the many situations your words covered. "You are aware there is a man that is out to kill me, correct?" you push your chin out in reaction to the strange answer.

"Yes, I know that." you narrow your eyes and shake your head in a desire of a more thorough elaboration.

"And you're still letting me stay here in your home, innit ya?" he says, motioning towards the chair in front of your desk. You frown and motion back for him to sit.

"Yeah, I leveled up my security, so? What are you on about?" you command of him, your shoulders slumping.

"I'm a guest in your house, having been personally invited by you, right?" he points his finger at you as his words pass to emphasize it's importance to you specifically. "With this invitation, you knew you were possibly putting yourself in harm's way on my behalf. I don't know what awful things you've heard others say of me and the way I handle my business, but I would like to assure you that I can recognize a debt when I see one and it seems that I am now the one in debt to you, aren't I?" his hands clasped together as he finished speaking, resting on his stomach as he leans back in the plush chair.

Your lips pout as you look away from him to your desk in thought. He was right, it had not occurred to you that he would think about the situation in this way but you were oddly relieved at his mature admission.  

"So just so ya know...ya know." he nods animatedly at you. "With me being here, yeah? You don't have to worry about what I see in this house. Ya just don't, Genevieve. I may be a fuckin' piece of work but I'm not gonna fuck ya over, not when you've done nothin' but right by me since I met ya, yeah?"

You watch him as he speaks. You're surprised that you feel like he's telling the truth. Your previous life experience wants you to reject the notion. "And for my own piece of mind," he says, his hands touching his chest, his tone lighter, "Ya don't have any plans on servin' me up with an apple in me mouth, d'ya?" his eyes blink slowly at you.

"I have no current plans for that, no." you can't help but grin in response.

"Then I'll keep behavin' myself and you keep not killin' me in my sleep and we'll be good as gold, mate." he gives you a flash of a charming smile with a gruff chuckle, full of amusement.

"Then that's the plan." you meet his smile with one of yours you found disarming in hopes to incite the same feeling in him as he was trying to draw from you with his. "Your cooperation as always is very much appreciated and does not go unnoticed." you say with a warm smile and polite nod of punctuation.

"You're very kind, Genevieve, yeah?" he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, "You know that? Not something I expected from ya with the stories I 'eard about ya." his grin returns in full but his eyes are less sentimental.

"Well luckily for me, you just agreed to not tell anyone my secrets so that will just have to stay between you and I, won't it?" you look back down and speak with raised brows and a smug expression, moving your hands across the papers on your desk to smooth them.

His gaze drops after you share a look of agreement. His head tilting and his shoulders relaxed. He clears his throat to speak, "Now it's my back that 's got me up at this late hour." He shifts his weight, now on one arm, resting on the chair. "May I ask what's got you awake or have I gone and interrupted you?" he asks politely.

"No, your intrusion is welcome, Alfie." You reply, your lips pursed and as you went ahead and stacked the papers neatly to look over later. "It's a job I'm thinking about taking. Trying to get a good study of it before I accept or decline. Nothing that interesting to be honest." you half smile, stretching in your large chair, rolling your neck. "I don't need to chance my eyes staying foggy from reading in the low light for this long anyway." you yawn, rubbing your eyes. "Might need to get glasses like yours if I keep up these late hours."

"Oh, you takin' a piss outta my glasses now?" his lip shoots up in a reactionary grin.

"Never." you laugh, shaking your head. "It allows you to wear glasses that also function as jewelry," you state in an obvious but enthusiastic way. "I wouldn't know what hell to give you about them. Seeing as I'm fond of them myself." you shrug and roll up the papers as you speak, your mood back to friendly with ease. "Who has picked on you for your glasses, Alfie?" you say, lowering your head to tease him just slightly. "You're defensive of them. Do I need to go give some rude men a talking to?" you offer with a grin, shutting the papers inside your desk.

"More like rude women if I'm being honest, mate." he says, shaking his head with a small laugh, his hand moving out in the presentation of the joking statement.

"Girls been making fun of your glasses?" you say in a genuinely surprised, higher pitched voice, your elbows are on your desk, your hand to your chest in tandem with your statement.

He nods with his mouth open, brow furrowed as if he's trying to think of where to begin with his thoughts.

"How very rude," you say with a nod of your head to interrupt his thoughts. "Making fun of a man's glasses." you tsk, shaking your head dramatically, seeing his grin slowly build as you carried on your animated task of cheering him up from the idea. "All terrible I'm sure. Self-loathing, projecting, feral mannered tarts." you continue your insults until you begin to laugh at your over the top delivery.

"Not nothin' like you, are they Gen?" his voice is lower than you anticipated but the praise immediately goes to your head and projects itself onto your face loudly.

"I've yet to meet a woman that is." you flash a beaming, pride-filled smile at the statement. A laugh that sounds ill-intentioned bubbles out through your shapely lips.

Pt 11 These Stones Will Shout

[orangeoctopi7]

Stanswap AU Part 27

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Part 26

Fanfiction.net (Read here to leave reviews and see Author’s comments)

Before we get started, I drew a lot of inspiration from artists who’ve done some fantastic comics and such for the Reverse Portal AU.

@busket Here and Here

and @biteinsane Here

Also, this chapter was brought to you by the Pardon my Klingon page on tvTropes.

The white light faded, and gravity returned. Everyone fell to the ground with a thud. Dipper groaned and glanced around warrily. It didn't look like the world had ended… but how could he be sure?

The portal had sustained a lot of damage, but it was still standing. The center was glowing a soft blue, but there was a shape moving within the glow. The shape grew and solidified into the silhouette of a man, but there was something… lopsided about the figure. He finally stepped out of the light, and jumped down from the portal with a grunt. That's when they got a good look at him. Despite his scraggly silver hair, scruffy beard, and large, reflective goggles, it was easy to see this was Stanford's twin brother. Dipper even briefly wondered if they were actually identical twins, or just remarkably similar fraternal twins.

The most noticeable difference was the reason his silhouette had looked so lopsided: his right arm was missing just above the elbow. The corresponding sleeve of his dirty brown leather jacket was roughly torn off, revealing the end of a scarred stump. What could be powerful enough to tear through leather like that? In his remaining hand he gripped a staff. It was simple and black, topped with a red jewel inlaid in gold that reminded Dipper of Pac-Man, or maybe a Pirahna Plant.

The boy drank in all these details in just a couple of seconds. Almost as soon as this man had stood fully upright he pulled off his goggles and locked eyes with Stanford.

“...Ford?” He breathed with a gruff voice.

“Stanley…” Ford said tearfully, like he couldn't quite believe this was happening. The old researcher ran to close the distance between them. Stan opened up his arm and a half to receive his brother in a hug. The two of them just stood there embracing one another for a solid minute without saying anything more. In that moment, Dipper couldn't believe he'd almost stopped this from happening just because he was scared the end of the world might happen.

Stanley finally pulled away and held his brother at an arm’s length, but only so he could get a better look at him. “You did it! You finally did it! You saved me! I always knew you would!”

Ford's face fell at this comment, like he'd just realized something horrible. Stan’s expression slowly changed to match his brother’s as he apparently came to the same realization.

“It… it was you, wasn't it?” Stan asked, although his tone implied he already knew the answer.

Ford's awkward silence was confirmation enough.

Stanley's face twisted into a scowl. “You didn't even try to bring me back, did you!?” He shouted.

The old researcher finally found his voice again. “Stanley, you know that's not true!”

“Oh, you call what you were doin’ twelve years ago trying!?”

“I was doing the best I could--”

“That's a lie, and you know it!”

“--under the circumstances! You don't understand how dangerous this portal is! I risked the safety of the entire universe just by leaving it intact!”

“Oh, I understand a lot more than you think, nerd!”

Suddenly Mabel popped up between them, temporarily ending the argument.

“Hey, Mabel here! What the hey-hey are you guys fighting for?” She asked.

Dipper thought he had a good idea of why. Less than five minutes ago, Ford had agreed to help him and Agent Trigger shut down the portal, stating that the risk was too great, and when Mabel had asked Ford if she should leave the portal running, he’d simply shouted he didn't know. It seemed somehow Stanley had already figured as much, and took his brother's hesitation personally. But what was all this shouting about twelve years ago? Hadn't Stanley been gone longer than that?

“Blitznak, Ford, what the smegg are kids doin’ down here!?” Stan exclaimed when he noticed the young twins, giving Ford a shocked glare.

“I hadn't meant for them to be down here, things just… just got out of control.” Ford said. “They're Sherman's Grandkids, Dipper and Mabel.”

Stan gave a relieved chuckle. “Phew, Shermie’s grandkids, that makes sense. Shoulda known you wouldn't settle down and have kids.” He crouched down and offered his left hand to Mabel. She automatically stuck out her right hand to shake with him, but soon realized her mistake. He grinned at her. “Hey, I'm Stan. Sorry, I know it ain't right to shake hands like this, but it's all I got left.”

Mabel grinned back like he'd just given her a bag of sweets. “Dipper, he's got jokes!”

The boy suddenly felt very shy. Well, no, that wasn't quite the word for it. He was just acutely aware of the fact that he'd been set on shutting down the portal. On stopping Stanley from returning.

“H-hi.” The boy stammered as he also shook hands with Stan.

Stan turned his attention to the last two strangers in the room. “If these two are Shermie's grandkids, then who the grop are these guys?” He pointed his staff first at Soos, and then at Agent Trigger, who was still lying prone on the floor.

“Oh my gosh we totally forgot about Trigger!” Dipper cried.

“Is he… dead?” Mabel asked worriedly.

Ford's heart kicked into overdrive again. Between his elation at finally seeing his brother again and the ensuing argument, he'd completely forgotten about the government agents. Trigger here was just the start of their problems. There were still all the agents Soos had fought upstairs, not to mention Powers and the rest of his team.

“Hopefully he's fine, but either way we need to get him out of here.” he said much more confidently than he felt. “Soos, help me get him back upstairs with the others.”

“Hey, don’t think you can get outta explainin’ yourself that easy, Ford!” Stan grumbled.

“We'll talk in the elevator.” Ford assured him.

The elevator was pretty crowded with the six of them, and especially with Ford and Soos carrying the unconscious agent.

“Soos is one of my former students. He helped me build the rift containment unit.” The old researcher finally introduced them.

“'Sup dawg?” Soos greeted his new acquaintance cheerfully.

“Wha?” Stan grunted, confused by the greeting. When Soos didn't clarify, the old traveler shifted the conversation back to his brother. “So you're still teaching, then?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And deadweight here is…?”

“A government agent.”

Stan laughed nervously. “Seriously?”

The elevator opened and they carried Trigger up the stairs, where the rest of his team of agents were still knocked out, sprawled across the library.

Stan gave a low whistle. “You had a whole team of government agents on your back…”

“Well, I'm not the one who fought--”

“I am so proud of you!” He slung his good arm around his brother's shoulder.

Ford blushed at the praise despite himself. “There are more coming. They should be here any minute now. I'm going to need your help, Stan.”

“Now that's what I like to hear!” He grinned, shifting his grip on his staff, holding it like a club. “What's the plan?”

Ford handed him an old car key. “She's in the garage and ready to go. I filled her up just a couple of days ago.”

Stan's eyes lit up. “We're gonna outrun 'em in the Stanleymobile?”

Ford shook his head sadly. “Not me. I need you to take the kids and get as far away from here as possible. I still need to contain that rift; it could destabilize at any moment! I’m not even sure the containment unit will work. If this is the beginning of the end, then you need to put as much distance between yourselves and the rift as possible.”

Dipper and Mabel could see Stan deflate from where they were standing. “What.” The old man growled dangerously.

“Stan, please, you're the only one I can trust with their safety!” Ford pleaded.

Stan's face hardened like a stone. “You're never gonna change, are ya?”

“Stanley…”

“C'mon kids, let's get outta here.” Stan stormed out of the house and onto the porch impatiently.

The young twins followed, but they cast a glance back at their first Grunkle. Ford just nodded them on.

“I'm sorry.” Ford called to them as they left. “I didn't want it to be this way.”

“Neither did I!” Stan shouted back angrily without even looking back.

Dipper realized a potential problem as they piled into the old Diablo that had been sitting in the garage all summer. “Are you sure you can drive with one arm? Do you even remember how to drive?” He asked Stan.

“Probably not, but that's never stopped me before!” The old conman laughed. After struggling to fit the key in the ignition, revving the engine a few time before remembering he had to shift it into drive first, and struggling some more with the clutch, he finally sped out of the garage and down the dirt road. They would be well on their way before Agent Powers and the rest of the government guys showed up.

Ford felt his heart break as he watched them go, but at least this way he knew they were all going to be safe. He sighed forlornly and turned to Soos as they went back inside. “You should go too. Go pick up your abuelita and--”

“But I wanna help!” Soos protested.

“It’s too dangerous.” the old teacher put his foot down. “I don’t want anyone else to suffer for my mistakes.” He was about to push Soos out the door when he noticed one of the agents groaning and coming to. He picked an excessively large book off the shelf and dropped it on the agent’s head. “Hmm. The rift might be too dangerous, but maybe you could help me take care of these guys?”

Soos turned his hat around dramatically. “I’m on it!”

“And if I do get the rift contained, I’ll need you to keep it safe.”

“Wait, aren’t you gonna take care of it?”

Ford shook his head. “I’m going to turn myself in. Hopefully once they take me into custody they'll forget all about you and the kids.”

“But… but they could lock you up forever!” the young mechanic cried.

“I've done what I set out to accomplish. My brother is home safe, and once the rift is contained, it doesn't matter what happens to me.”

Soos looked like he was about to argue, but Ford simply turned around and descended the stairs to the portal lab, shutting the secret door behind him with finality.

Stan's emotions were all over the place. For a start, he was furious with Ford for putting him through the exact same paces they'd been through thirty years ago.

And yet Ford had kept his car for him.

And apparently Ford wasn't even the one who'd brought him home in the first place! But then why were there hostile government agents in his house?

Yet Ford had taken care of El Diablo; she was running even better than when Stan had left.

“So!” Mabel poked her head up between the front seats. “it looks like we're gonna be cooped up in this car together for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?”

“Grop, are ya sure? I’ve seen some serious shef’th, it's not a krutacking walk in the park on the other side. If I had a cred for every time I saw some rigellian zarking some poor shazbot… well, let's just say it was void, and leave it at that.” Stan rattled off. The kids gaped at him like he'd thrown up a whole rotten pizza: confused and slightly disgusted. “Whassa matter with you guys? ...Oh, grop, you guys are kids! I gotta watch my frakking mouth around you little shazbots! Eh, sorry, sweet Moses, I gotta watch my frakking mouth around you little shazbots!”

Mabel did her best to ignore what appeared to be alien swears, and asked the question she really wanted the answer to: “So why did you and Grunkle Ford start fighting all of a sudden? What happened between you two?”

Stan heaved the most tired sigh she’d ever heard. “‘Sa long story, kiddo.”

“Well, like I said, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us!” She said with an encouraging smile.

The old con-man smirked. “Yeah, walked right inta that one. Alright, but I got some questions of my own first. Like, how much do ya already know?”

“About what?” Dipper asked.

“‘Bout me. What’d my brother tell ya ‘bout me?”

The young twins exchanged a glance. “Honestly we didn’t even know you existed until about a month ago.” Dipper admitted.

“Well, we know you’re twins and you were Grunkle Ford’s only friend in the whole wide world when you two were growing up in New Jersey!” Mabel chimed in.

“Aaaand that you had a knack for getting in trouble.” The boy remembered.

“Ha.” Stan laughed, and the kids had the hardest time identifying the emotion behind it. “Of course he’d say that. Ever go into specifics about what kind of trouble?”

“Uh, he told us about how you got kicked out when you were in high school after you wrecked his science fair project.” Dipper continued.

“I should’ve known.” The old con man growled. “I bet that wamsutter still says I did it on purpose, too!”

“Well… he did say something about you convincing yourself it was an accident.” the boy confessed.

“He what!?” Stan roared, rounding on the kids with rage etched on his face.

“Eyes on the road!” Mabel reminded him.

Stan turned back around just in time to course-correct for an upcoming turn. “Krutacking little e chu ta, I can’t believe him.” He muttered under his breath. “If I ever get the chance I’m gonna stick my staff right up his--”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Dipper tried to patch the wound he’d obviously just opened, “He also says the two of you were both being stupid teenagers about the whole thing.”

That seemed to pacify Stan a bit. “So… so he’s not mad about it anymore?”

Mabel and Dipper shared another glance. When Ford had told them the story before, he’d definitely still had a bitter outlook on the event, but… it didn’t seem like he still held any grudge against his brother.

“I don’t think so. At least, not mad at you.” Mabel said slowly, “And he’s worked so hard this summer to bring you home, that’s gotta count for something, right?”

Stan huffed angrilly. “I thought he was working hard to bring me home for almost twenty years, but that turned out to be a big fat lie.”

“What do you mean?” Dipper asked curiously

“My turn to answer questions, huh? Alright, here goes....”

The agents had been somewhat surprised when Ford turned himself in, but, like the old researcher had hoped, they seemed to forget all about Soos and the kids once they had him in custody. They were still sweeping his house to try and locate the portal lab. Luckily Trigger’s concussion was bad enough that he didn’t seem to remember the entrance behind the bookshelf. Since their search was fruitless, they turned their main attention back to Ford.

“Where’s the helicopter?” Agent Powers asked one of his men, “The sooner we get Pines to Washington, the sooner we can squeeze the answers out of him.”

Ford remained silent. He was sure he could hold up under pressure, even under torture, but there was a very good chance the agents would find the portal lab on their own if they just looked a little harder. Or tore down his house.

“Sir, our requisitioned helicopter crashed during the last major gravity reversal.” the agent replied. “It’ll take a while to fill out the paperwork to send in the new one. And once that’s completed it’s about an hour’s flight from Fort Lewis to here.

Powers sighed impatiently, but he knew it couldn’t be helped. “Alright, put three rush tags on that paperwork when you email it to HQ. In the meantime, I want a full security detail on Pines. No more breakouts.”

“Sir yes sir!” the

“And get some med guys to look at Agent Trigger and his team.”

Ford tried his best to get comfortable, despite being cuffed to the stair-rail. It looked like he was going to be here for a while.

Stan started his story with a bombshell. “The night I went through the portal wasn’t the last time I heard from my brother before now.”

“What!? How’s that even possible!?” the boy exclaimed.

“Hey, who’s tellin’ this story?” Stan shushed him before continuing. “When I went through the portal, I found myself in a nightmare realm. The place was crawlin’ with monsters that’d make Harry Claymore faint, but none of them could touch me. It was hard to judge time; I might’ve been there a couple of days or a couple of hours. Luckily I found a wormhole to escape through before I got into too much trouble. I thought I’d left the monsters of the nightmare realm behind, so I holed up in a tree and got some sleep for the first time in ages. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was about to meet the King of Nightmares himself.

“He wasn’t nightmarish to start with though. Came to me in a dream with a nice warm fire and a promise that he’d let Ford know I was still alive. He didn’t even look scary; who’d be afraid of a cartoony yellow triangle?”

Dipper gasped. “You mean Bill!?”

“Oh, so Ford told ya ‘bout him?” Stan guessed.

“More than that, we’ve fought Bill twice this summer!” the boy exclaimed.

“We defeated him with kittens and tickles!” Mabel added.

“...It was a lot more heroic than it sound.” Dipper muttered.

The old man actually laughed. “Now that’s a story I’m gonna wanna hear later! But like I was sayin’...”

“Wait, does Ford know you’ve dealt with Bill too?” Dipper asked.

“Sheesh kid, let me finish and maybe some of your questions’ll get answered! Flap-dras’n kids, no appreciation for story tellin’.” Stan muttered.

“Anyway, he didn't seem like a nightmare at first, but he was offering ‘deals’ that were too good to be true. I knew a thing or two about phoney sales pitches from my own time in infomercials, so I knew something was fishy. I wasn’t about to go and make any deals with him, but… I didn’t exactly tell him to get lost either. He was the first thing I’d met since fallin’ through the portal that at least acted friendly, and havin’ a fellow con-artist as an ally in unknown territory seemed like a good idea at the time. I figured I knew enough about scammin’ that I wouldn’t get scammed myself.

“Bill did end up makin’ good on at least one thing: he let Ford know I was still alive, and with that Ford was able to figure out a way to keep in touch with me through some sorta dream-sharing thing. ‘Course, Bill wasn’t doin’ that just to be helpful; he had a reason, but I didn’t find that out until years later. Heh, it’s funny. Ford and I talked more in a year while we were in different dimensions than we did in ten years when we were in the same country. My brother promised me he’d bring me home, no matter how long it took. I promised I wouldn’t give up on him if he didn’t give up on me. And for almost twenty years, I believed that.

“For all those years, Ford kept droppin’ in on my dreams, but I started to notice he’d stopped making progress on bringin’ me home. At first I thought he’d just hit a snag, but as things dragged on into years I started wonderin’ if somethin’ was wrong. Bill kept checking in on me too. I made a point of never making a deal with the guy, but he started tellin’ me about how he’d worked with Ford, how they’d been friends until there was an accident. He kept tryin’ to convince me to talk to my brother so they could work together again and get the portal workin’ to bring me back. Ford was always goin’ on and on about how dangerous the portal was any time I tried to tell him to just power it up and see if it worked, and I knew whenever he cut ties with someone he was… pretty set on not seeing or talking to them again, so for a long time, I never even mentioned Bill to him. Until one day, I got desperate.”

Stanford had gotten so little sleep in the past two weeks that it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that he drifted off not long after the agents had decided to move him into one of the armored humvees. What was a surprise was Bill invading his dream almost immediately.

“AWWW, DID SOMEONE FALL ASLEEP OUTSIDE HIS PRECIOUS SHIELD-SPELL?”

Ford’s heart hammered in his chest as he momentarily panicked, but it didn’t take him long to realize he actually had the upper-hand for once.

“You can torment me all you want, Bill, you’ve lost this time!” he grinned triumphantly.

“OH NO, YOU’VE DEFEATED ME,” Bill mocked flatly, “HOW WILL I EVER RECOVER FROM THIS SETBACK OF A FEW WEEKS?!”

“What!?”

“AHAHAHA, DO I REALLY HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU, SIXER? EVEN IF QUESTIONMARK MANAGES TO KEEP YOUR TACKY SNOWGLOBE SAFE, YOU OVERLOOKED AN IMPORTANT DETAIL. THE CHAOS ENERGY THE RIFT IS LEAKING IS GOING TO GROW EXPONENTIALLY OVER TIME.”

Ford’s mind raced as he compared this information to the calculations he’d used to build the Rift Containment Unit. He didn’t need to write anything out to know the containing measures wouldn’t hold.

“THAT THING’LL BE CRACKING BY THE END OF THE WEEK. I SHOULD HAVE MY DOOR INTO YOUR UNIVERSE BY THE END OF THE SUMMER! AND FAILING THAT, THERE’S ALWAYS THE SECRET GOVERNMENT ORGANIZATION ABOUT TO SEIZE THE PORTAL STRUCTURE. I PRACTICALLY RUN THOSE GUYS ALREADY! IT’LL BE A SINCH TO GET THEM TO REBUILD IT FOR ME!

“No.…” Ford fell to his knees. He’d actually thought this was all over? How could he have been so blind?

“YOU’RE ADORABLE, YOU KNOW THAT? IT’S BEEN A HOOT, WATCHING YOU SCRAMBLE TO TRY AND FIGURE OUT THAT PORTAL AGAIN ALL ON YOUR OWN. AND TRYING TO KEEP YOUR FAMILY OUT OF IT? HA! THEY’RE INVOLVED WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, FORDSY!” Bill waved his arm above his apex and three symbols from the prophecy wheel appeared: a pinetree, a shooting star, and another symbol that Ford vaguely remembered from the fez his father used to wear. But now that he looked at it again, there was another place he recognized it from: Stanley’s staff.

“BUT PLEASE, KEEP TRYING TO PUSH THEM AWAY ANYWAY.” Bill said with a smirking glint in his eye. “IT MAKES THINGS SO MUCH MORE ENTERTAINING!”

“Leave them alone!” The old scientist screamed.

“OH-HO, BUT IT’S NOT UP TO ME.” Bill smirked. “WELP, THIS IS GETTING BORING. HOW ABOUT I TAKE YOUR BODY FOR A SPIN, JUST FOR OLD TIMES’ SAKE? I COULD MAIM ALL THE GUARDS AROUND YOU!”

“Don’t!” Ford got back to his feet even though he knew, deep down, there wasn’t really anything he could do.

“HAH! GULLIBLE! I THINK IT’D BE A MUCH BETTER USE OF MY TIME TO GET CRACKING ON STEALING THAT RIFT! AND YOU’RE NO USE TO ME ON THAT FRONT, GETTING DRAGGED OFF BY THE FEDS AND ALL. SEE YA IN THE ODDPOCALYPSE!”

“Y’see, My life after leavin’ Earth wasn’t much different from my life after leavin’ home.” Stan continued his story as he drove, “I’d drift from place to place, lookin’ for chances to make a quick cred and, if I was lucky, get my hands on somethin’ that was transuniversally valuable. Main difference was it was even more dangerous in the multiverse! There were a lot of times I could’ve died, and I probably would’ve if I’d just given up, but I thought I had a brother out there, trying to bring me home. I didn’t want him to do all that work for nothin’.” he growled bitterly.

“One day I’d swiped some star-rubies from a royal starcruiser, they weren’t too thrilled about that, obviously. I managed to fight the entier security team off with just a blunderbuss and my own two fists, all except the captain. That guy, he fought dirty. I’d almost gotten free of their ship before take-off, when he blinded me with flash powder and shut the air-lock on my arm just as I was jumpin’ out the exit. I was hangin’ out the door as the engines started firing. The captain said I could either come with him to face the royal court, or be dragged along outside the ship while it left the atmosphere and burn up from the friction. I took a third option, and blew my own arm off.”

The kids both gasped. So that was how Stan had lost his arm.

“After that, things got a little too real for me. Sure, interdimensional travel was dangerous, but I was kinda havin’ fun adventuring around, up to that point. After losin’ my arm, it wasn’t fun anymore. I couldn’t even take care of my own bleeding stump properly; I didn’t think I could survive on my own at that point. Bill found me. He actually helped me escape the royal guards and get out of that dimension. Then I wanted to go home so bad, I didn’t care what I told Ford or how he reacted, as long as it got that portal working again.

“I invited Bill to come into my dream the next time Ford got in touch with me. That was the first good night’s sleep I’d had in nearly a month. Before Ford showed up, Bill said… said I lie to other people, but Ford lies to himself. I didn’t get what he was talkin’ about so I just shrugged it off until Ford got there. At first my brother was relieved to see me, but he freaked out even more than I’d expected when Bill showed himself. That’s when Bill told me what my brother’d really been doing with that portal.”

“What?” Mabel asked hesitantly.

“Abso-krutacking-lutely nothing!” Stan spat. “He’d had the smegging thing done for nearly nine years, and he’d just been sitting on it! Biding his time! Once again I was struggling to survive, and he wasn’t doing a zarking thing about it!”

“But...but that can’t be right!” Dipper interrupted. “Grunkle Ford didn’t finish the portal until this summer, we helped him find the Journals so he could do it!”

Stan scoffed “He didn’t need the frelling Journals to open the Portal, he just need them to stabilize it.”

“But what would be the point of bringing you home if the world ended immediately after you arrived?” the boy asked.

“...Maybe you’re right, kid,” the old conman grunted in defeat, “But he could’ve told me! He didn’t have to lead me on with some false hope! He could’ve told me about Bill before, then I would’ve known to stay away from that monster! But I didn’t know any of that shef’th! All I knew was my brother’d been lying to me, he’d given up on me!”

“But he didn’t give up on you!” Mabel protested, “He kept the portal up, he kept looking for the Journals, he’s the reason you’re here now!”

Stan wasn’t convinced. “Is he now? My turn to ask questions, how’d that portal really get opened?”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged glances again. Stan wished they’d stop doing that, the way they could communicate with just a look. He’d had that with his brother once, and he’d hoped they could have it again when he’d first emerged from the portal. Of course, he should’ve known better than to hope.

The young twins told Stan all about finding the Journals, about recovering Ford’s memories from the Blind-Eye, and about building the Rift Containment Unit. The old man had been surprised by the existence of a memory-erasing cult, and seemed somewhat annoyed that Ford had elected to delay opening the portal by two weeks in order to prepare for the rift, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“And then, the day we were finally gonna open the portal, this morning, these government guys show up outta nowhere!” Mabel continued with the story, “They arrested Grunkle Ford, so we had to break him out of jail so he could be there to see you when the portal opened! And also so he could stop the world from being destroyed. But then Agent Trigger followed us down to the lab (he’s that unconcious guy from earlier, remember?) and he was gonna force Grunkle Ford to shut the portal down! So--”

“It was my fault!” Dipper blurted out.

“What!?” Stan looked over his shoulder at the boy in confusion. Mabel had to direct his attention back to the road again.

“Trigger was threatening us with a gun and I’d just read some of the warnings in the Journal about how opening the portal would bring about the end of the world, and a couple of weeks ago Ford was telling me about how Bill wanted to bring chaos and destruction into our world and I just panicked! I told Trigger about the manual override, Ford would’ve let the portal keep running otherwise.”

“Whaddaya mean ‘otherwise’?” the old con-artist asked with a scowl.

Mabel put a comforting arm around her brother’s shoulders. “Well, after Dipper told Agent Trigger about the manual override, they needed one more person because there were three keys… so Ford helped them.”

“Trigger would’ve shut the portal off if Mabel hadn’t tackled him before he got to the shut-down button.” Dipper explained, finding his voice again. “Even when I was practically screaming at her to turn it off, she wouldn’t push it. She’s the reason you’re here.”

Stan was silent for a moment, processing this new information. “Thanks, uh, Mabel.” He finally said awkwardly, “And Dip, I don’t blame you for this, ok? You didn’t know.”

“I did know though!” Dipper protested, “I knew Ford was trying to bring you home, and I knew I would’ve done the same thing for my sister, but I still tried to shut the portal down!”

“It’s not your fault, you’re just a kid!” Stan reassured him. He didn’t look very reassured. He looked upset.

Dipper pouted for a moment or two before finally responding. “I just don’t want you to be mad at your brother for something I did.”

The old man heaved a sigh. “Me and my brother’ve got plenty of issues with or without you, kid. Don’t worry about it.”

Stan had been ready to forgive his brother for the whole portal thing, even the fact that Ford technically hadn’t been the one to open in. Now that Stanley knew the whole story behind why Ford had been so hesitant, the old con-artist was even more inclined to forgive that particular detail.

But then Ford had to go and push him away again.

Everyone sat in silence for a while longer. Dipper watched the “Now Leaving Gravity Falls” sign whiz past through the window. “We can’t just let those government guy drag Ford off to jail, there’s gotta be something we can do… right?”

The silence dragged on for another moment or two before Stan finally snapped. “Argh, alright! Hang on!” He spun the wheel tighter and faster than Dipper thought was possible for a one-armed man. The car swerved across the median and pulled a U-ie into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding an SUV full of very frightened campers. The kids yelled in surprise as the momentum squished them to the side of the car.

“Grunkle Stan, what’re you doing?” Mabel asked.

“I never listened to my brother before, I sure as grop ain’t gonna start now!” He said savagely. “We’re gonna go back and save his sorry slagg.”

Ford wondered idly if telling the agents everything about the rift and Bill would persuade them to let him go, or at least to help him secure the rift. Either they wouldn't believe him, or they would try and use the rift themselves, and Bill would surely get the better of them. The old man hung his head in despair. All these years, and Bill had still gotten the last laugh; Ford still couldn't fix his mistakes.

“Sir, we’re almost done with the paperwork for the new helicopter!” An agent came up to the humvee and handed a tablet to Powers, who had decided he wanted to guard Ford personally. “I just need you to sign off on it.”

“Excellent.” Powers smirked. “You hear that, Pines? Playtime is over. I’ll enjoy putting you away.”

Ford just looked down at his shoes. What could he possibly do or say at this point?

Everyone in the humvee looked up with a start when they heard the sound of a vehicle coming down the dirt road. Whoever it was, it sounded like they were driving recklessly. That was Ford’s first clue.

“Must be some lost tourists.” Powers grumbled, and turned to the guy who’d brought him the tablet, “Go take care of them.”

“Sir, yes sir.” The agent nodded, and jogged down the road.

He hadn’t gotten very far before a bright red El Diablo barreled into view. The agent barely had time to jump out of the way when he realized the car was coming straight for him, and it was not slowing down. It continued, picking up speed, until it suddenly swerved, and drifted sideways right into the humvee that held Agent Powers and Stanford. Luckily Ford was strapped in, as part of his security, but the government guys hadn’t thought wearing a seatbelt in a parked vehicle was really necessary. Powers, whose door had still been open after taking the tablet, had been ejected from the vehicle. The other guards were flung up against the side of the humvee.

Stanley and the kids hopped out of the squashed El Diablo, somewhat shaken but none the worse for wear. Of course, Stan had warned them what he was going to do, and they’d buckled and braced themselves accordingly. The old con man made a beeline for the undamaged back door, threw out the stunned guards, and got to work picking the lock on Ford’s cuffs.

“Are you trying to get me killed!?” Ford asked as soon as he got over the shock.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, bro.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“You’ll need a key, these are military-grade--” the old scientist began to protest, but he was cut short as Stan opened the cuffs with a satisfying click. “How did you…?”

“You really gotta ask?” Stan smirked and pulled his brother out of the humvee. They made a dash for behind the garage, where the kids were waiting for them.

“What were you all thinking!?” Ford asked agitatedly the second they were all hidden. “Even if we do somehow manage to escape an entire team of highly trained secret agents, it’s not like they’re going to just forget about it and go home! The government will keep sending more agents after me!”

“Eh, I’ve been on the run from the Feds before, it’s really not that hard.” Stan shrugged.

“But we can make them forget about it!” Dipper reminded them, pulling out the memory erasing device from his backpack.

Stanford grimaced. He hated to stoop to this level, but if he was taken away, there was no chance of sealing up the rift. If he could stay here in Gravity Falls, he could at least try. “I hate to do this but… it seems to be our only option.”

“Alright!” Mabel grinned. “Now we just gotta tie ‘em all up so we can shoot the memory gun at all of ‘em at once! Do any of you have a lasso?”

Dipper’s eyes widened as he realized his plan might be a lot more impractical than he’d thought. Ford put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s possible to convert the memory pulse into an audio wavelength, rather than a visual wavelength. If I could hook this up to some sort of emitter, and get it on the same frequency that the agents’ headsets are running, that could do the trick. If we can get back into the lab without being detected…”

“Don’t bother, I think I got one right here.” Stan unbuckled the straps and slung his pack off his shoulder. “Hopefully it’s still workin’, everything kinda got messed up when one of Bill’s cronies tried to take a bite out of it.”

“What!?” Ford gasped.

Stan ignored him and pulled a long, mangled hunk of wires, circuit boards, and other advanced kinds of technology. If you squinted at it just right, you could almost tell it had once been a prosthetic arm.

“Emitter was in the elbow. That took the least damage, so it should be fine.” Stan handed the busted robo-arm to his brother. “Think it’ll work?”

There were so many questions rushing through Ford’s head right now, but he didn’t have time to ask any of them. He simply nodded mutely and took the scrapped arm. They were in luck; the emitter was in working order. It didn’t take long for Stanford to wire the memory erasing device through it.

“Cover your ears!” He warned his family. This was supposed to just send a signal to all the agents’ com-links, but you could never be too careful.

They didn’t see the pulse of energy wash through the agents, but they certainly saw the effects. The government guys all paused in their scrambling search, and suddenly began ambling about, as though they weren’t sure what they were doing there. An evil grin spread across Stanley’s face; the kind he got when he was about to cause some trouble. He ran out to confront the agents before anyone could stop him.

“Hey! Whaddaya think you’re doing!? Look what ya did to my car!” He bellowed indignantly, storming right up to Agent Powers and pointing at his wrecked El Diablo.

“What?” Powers asked in confusion. “What are we doing here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Stan shouted. “I park here for five minutes, and when I come back there are government spooks crawling all over the place, and my car’s totaled! The government better be payin’ for that! She’s a classic, and she was in showroom condition!”

“But we didn’t… I don’t remember…” Powers looked over the scene in bewilderment.

“Don’t remember!? Oh, you been drinkin’ on the job?” Stan asked acidly.

“Of course not!” Powers exclaimed.

“Then explain to me what happened here! Or better yet, explain it to my lawyer! Heh, that was my first car, too, might be able to get some emotional compensation…”

Powers scowled. “Now look here, we’re a top secret government organization. What we’re up to here is... highly classified.”

“It won’t be when my lawyer’s done digging up the dirt on you shazbots!” The old con man threatened.

Powers kept his expression neutral, but Stan could tell that last threat had hit a soft spot.

“Surely there’s some way we can settle this outside of court?”

Stan put his hand to his chin and mimed thinking hard about it. He finally seemed to come to a conclusion and poked Powers square in the chest. “Alright, you wanna settle this here and now? I want three thousand cash to cover all the damage your men’ve done here, and I don’t wanna see your sorry mugs around town ever again! Then we can both pretend like this never happened.”

“We only carry a thousand cash with us, will that do if we wire the rest to your account?” Powers asked.

“Are you kiddin’!? I ain’t givin’ you yahoos my bank info! Just gimme the cash and go!” Stan demanded.

Powers tried his best to look like he was still in control of the situation as he pulled out his wallet and handed all his emergency funds over. Stan grinned, putting his arm around Powers’ shoulder.

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir!” He patted the agent on the back as the government guys left.

The rest of the Pines family came out from behind the garage, mouths hanging open at the incredible performance they’d just witnessed. Stan was counting his money, chuckling.

“Hah! A thousand bucks!” He crowed, then opened his hand to reveal a small tablet and a thumb drive. “And whatever this stuff is! Looks like a mini TV and… what is this, some sorta new-age gum packaging?”

“Did you just pick the pocket of a government agent!?” Dipper asked incredulously.

“Sure did, kid!”

Ford took the thumb drive, which had ‘Pines’ scrawled on it in permanent marker. “This… this is their case file against me! Without this, they don’t have anything on me, or the Portal! … Thank you, Stanley…” He added quietly.

Stan stiffened at his brother’s words. “Tch, the kids talked me into comin’ back.” He scoffed.

Mabel looked back and forth between her two Grunkles. “I know what you two need! To hug it out!” She paused, waiting for one of them to make their move. Neither did. “Hug it out!” She declared again. “C’mon you guys, you were having and hugapalooza earlier!”

“I think you kids need to get to bed.” Ford said, changing the subject. “It’s been a long day.”

“Aw, come on!” The young twins protested.

“Don’t try and worm your way out of it, you need your sleep.” The old scientist said firmly. “And my brother and I need to have a… personal conversation.”

Mabel and Dipper certainly understood the need for that. So they gave in the fight and dutifully entered the house, leaving the elder twins standing on the porch.

“Let’s get this over with, Poindexter, I haven’t eaten in three days.” Stan grumbled.

“Oh!” Ford felt like kicking himself. He hadn’t even thought of that, but of course food had to be scarce on the other side of the Portal. “We can talk in the kitchen.”

As soon as they entered the kitchen, Stanley moved straight to the fridge and began helping himself to anything he didn’t have to heat up. He’d scarfed down two leftover tacos before he’d even sat back down at the table. Between bites, he started unlacing his boots.

“‘M honna hakeoff m’sues ‘n sohs.” he mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.

“What?” Ford asked, barely suppressing a laugh.

Stan swallowed. “I’m gonna take off my shoes and socks. I take no responsibility for any related deaths.”

Ford laughed.

“I’m serious, it’s gonna be bad.” Stan peeled off a sock. It was bad, like rotting fish and stale body odor. Ford thew open a window and turned on the fan above the stove.

“Stan, I know you’re mad at me.” Ford said as he sat back down at the kitchen table.

“Hmm.” Stan grunted as he continued chewing on a leftover hamburger.

“And you have every right to be.” Ford continued.

“Glad we agree on that.” Stan said thickly as he swallowed another bite.  

“I’m sorry, for everything, just please, Stanley, give me another chance!” Ford pleaded. “I want to make things right between us, I swear!”

Stan was quiet for a long moment. He looked so tired. Tired with life.

“I’d like to believe you.” He finally said. “I really would. But you haven't got the greatest track-record.”

Ford's heart sank. He couldn't really argue with that. “So… what're you going to do?”

Stan laughed dryly. “Well, can't exactly leave with my car wrecked, can I?”

“I-I could fix it for you.” Ford suggested hopefully.

Stan glared at him. “You think you just gotta find the right thing to do and suddenly everything's gonna be hunky-dory?”

Stanford could practically feel his patience snap. “Well at least I'm trying! What do you want from me, Stan!?”

Stan rolled his eyes and got up. “You really don't get it.”

“So explain it to me!”

“You want me to spell it out for you?!” Stan shouted. “Fine! We're basically strangers now! I'll stay 'til the end of the summer, but when the kids leave, so do I. 'Cuz as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I got left.”

Ford wanted to say something to his brother as he stomped out of the kitchen. He wanted to grab his brother and hug him. He wanted to find some way to fix this. But it seemed all he was capable of was sitting there and watching his brother go.

Soos was sitting in the basement with the Rift Containment Unit, still waiting for the agents to leave. He wasn't really sure how he was supposed to know when the agents were gone, but Dr. Pines had said he should stay there all night if he had to. So that was what the young mechanic intended to do. He was very good at sitting for hours doing nothing. He didn't need anything or anyone to entertain him.

… Well, maybe he would call Wendy. Update her on the whole “Two Stans” thing.

[fuckthis-and-fuckthat]

His loss, My gain. PART 5

JokerXChubby reader

Summary- Not saying anything bc I’ll give it away!

Warning- No smut this time. It’s very triggering. Talk of self harm and suicide attempts. Please don’t read if you are triggered. Angtssyyyy! Don’t worry, it gets better next chapter. 

A/N- I made J like super soft but also super mean and rough. I love playing with the different sides if him and how the reader fucks with his head and heart. Not quite sure if the Joker has ever cried, but in my story he does! Well, not like ball out cry, just a tear. Also, I made Harley like a super bitch in here. I love her too death, though.

Part 1- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173544548545/his-loss-my-gian

Part 2- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173576126505/his-loss-my-gain-part-2

Part 3- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173650770775/his-loss-my-gain-part-3

Part 4- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173740290955/his-loss-my-gain-part-4

Part 6- https://1-800-kill-me-im-gay.tumblr.com/post/173765326075/his-loss-my-gain-part-6

Tagging- @haileysarahmarie @xxqueenwxtchxx @indifitel6661

@i-m-p-a-l-a-6-7 @lovermrjoker

So, I completely forgot to tag you @indifitel6661 but, the masterlist is up there^^^

Joker’s point of view.

Joker’s point of view.

She was driving me crazy. Her smell was on my clothes, in the bed, in my office. It’s like she ripped herself apart and placed pieces of her inside of me. I need to get her out and soon. The sooner we get the show on the road, the sooner she won’t feel anything and she’ll be numb. If she feels nothing for me, I won’t feel for her. 

I couldn’t even look at her as I walked by her. If I did, I’d lose my hair and flip the tables. My head was turning and I couldn’t think of anything but her, and I needed to clear my head. I texted Lucas and told him to bring around the car. 

Right as we walked out the house, my feet stopped in their tracks, meeting faces with a very pale woman with red and blue hair. Harley. I nearly spat at her and killed her, but also curious to what she wanted. Grabbing her by the hair, I slammed her into the back of the black SUV.

Pulling out my gun, I aimed it at her head, making her frown. “Whatcha’ doin’ pointing a gun at me, puddin’!?” She squeaked. I surely did not miss that obnoxious voice and accent. 

“Why are you here?” I growled, pressing the gun against her head. 

“I heard yah replaced me, puddin’! I couldn’t sit here and do nun! come ooooonnn, didn’t yah miss me, daddy?”

I didn’t miss her, but she was exactly what I needed to get my mind off if Y/N. I looked down at my phone when it buzzed, noticing it was a message from Fost.

-Y/N left. Brick took her to her apartment and to her editor. Said they wouldn’t be back for an hour or two.

I growled and threw my phone across the car. Opening the door, I stepped out onto the side walk in front of the house since we never left. How did I miss Y/N leave? Grabbing Harley by her hair, I dragged her into the penthouse and up to my room, pushing her on her knees.

“Show daddy how much you missed him.” What am I doing!? I was screaming at myself for doing this, but it had to be done. I was falling too hard for Y/N and I needed Harley to get my mind off of her. Although, it is true I hate the bitch, she gave pretty good head, but not better than Y/N. No one was better than Y/N.

Growling at Harley, I ripped open my pants, pulling out my cock and shoving it in her mouth. She quickly wrapped her lips around my length, bobbing her head back and forth. 

Closing my eyes, I tried to picture something other than Y/N, but all I could think of was how perfect she was, how her mouth felt on my dick and her pussy clenching around me. I gripped Harley’s hair harder, shoving my dick into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat, making her gag. 

I looked up, meeting eyes with a pair of vibrant Y/E/C ones. There stood Y/N, eyes wide and bloodshot at the door. I wasn’t thinking clearly and didn’t think about shutting the door. Before I could do anything, she slammed the door closed, darting down the stairs. I was quick to pull Harley away, throwing her across the floor, making her scream. 

Tucking my shit back in, I ran down the stairs and to the road, watching as Y/N’s new lambo sped down the road. Screaming, I got on my phone, calling the henchman and letting them know to find Y/N and tie up Harley. 

I jumped in my car as fast as I could, going straight to Y/N’s house, finding her car there. Running upstairs, I ran through her house, finding nothing but a note on the mirror written in lipstick. 

You fucked up, J. What ever happens to me is your fault. 

Xoxo, the soon to be new Harley Quinn. 

“AAHHHHHH!” I punched the mirror, sending shards of glass flying, some cutting my knuckles. I sprinted back to the car, tracking down Y/N to the chemical plant. My knuckles were bleeding all over the steering wheel and were squeezed tight as I hurried there, hoping to get her in time before she does anything stupid. 

Hopping out of the car, I run into the building, finding the stairs and jumping up them, finding Y/N standing at the edge. “You come near me and so help me, I’ll kill you.” She says, holding up a gun, I notice how blood drips down her arm, dripping underneath her long sleeve Shirt.

“Y/N, please, baby. Put down the gun and come to me.” My voice was soft and trembly, filled with nothing but emotion.

“DON’T CALL ME ‘BABY’! You think you can call me that and try and sweet talk me after I walk in on you with your dick in some sluts throat!?” She lets out a maniac laugh, scratching her head with the gun. “Down Harley Quinn’s throat.” 

I take a deep breath, stepping toward her to where I can pull up the sleeve of her shirt. She lets me pull up her sleeve, smearing blood over carved leters reading “I hate myself.” Pulling over the other sleeve, there’s a huge gash down the middle of her forearm and is dripping blood heavily. 

I feel my Herat break in my chest at the sight if her. Blood dripping from her arms. I could feel everything inside of me break. The wall I built around my heart came crashing down and for the first time in years, a tear slipped down my cheek. The thought of me breaking her killed me. I couldn’t watch this girl...the girl that I was falling desperately...who I was IN LOVE with die. Not over me and not over Harley. 

Y/N’s eyes closed, wobbling lightly, but not enough to lose her grip on the gun. I tried smacking it out of hand, but she twirled it in her hand, hitting me with the handle. I grunted, moving my hand to my now bloody lip. I was trying to hold my composure, to not let anger take over me. I felt my eyes stare as she went completely insane. And then a tear fell.

“you think you can manipulate me with a fucking tear and try to take my gun....don’t, don’t you think you’ve hurt me enough?” Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing and keep her eyes open. She was probably about to pass out form the blood loss, or die. “You know what, J? I love you. I’m...I’m in love with you. And If you cared...about me...” I watched as she stepped to the edge “you’d save me.” I reached for her arm, but was too late, she was already over the edge, falling into the bubbling acid. 

I grunted, walking backwards, thinking about leaving her, but I rip off my jacket.

Jumping in after her. I hit the acid, slightly burning my skin, swimming to the bottom and grabbing a hold of her and dragging her to the top. I took a gasp for  air, expecting Y/N to do th same, but she didn’t. I looked around us, noticing black swirling in the yellowish chemicals. I brushed my lips against hers, again, expecting her to make up, but she didn’t. Pressing down harder, the taste of chemicals envaded my mouth, still not waking Y/N. 

“J!” Looking up, I saw frost and my henchmen coming in. 

“Frost! Get us out! She’s not waking up!” I growled angrily, kicking over to the side and started to push Y/N up, letting the henchman grab her. I climbed out of  the chemicals, falling on to my knees beside of Y/N. “Come on, baby. I need you to wake up.” I looked up at frost eyes wide with desperation, somthing he’s never seen before...something I never felt before. 

“What happened, J?” 

“Harley happened. I couldn’t get my mind off of Y/N so I used Harley and she caught us. Then she said that she’d be here....and then....” I motioned towards her, my breathing ragid. 

“Why isn’t she waking up? Harley woke up.” Frost was looking confused, pressing his fingers to Y/N’s neck, finding her pulse. 

“Her wrists are slit.” 

“That explains why there’s barely a pulse. She lost a lot of blood. We need a hospital, J. Now.”

We barged into the hospital, Y/N in my arms, limp. Frost started screaming for a doctor, making multiple rush to us, stopping as soon as they saw who it was. 

“Save her and you won’t die.” I growled, placing Y/N on the bed. “Do I...make myself clear?” I pointed my gun at her as she nodded her head. “Good....now, she has a slit wrist and she jumped into acid. Now.....do your job...and save her.” The lady cut of Y/N’s top off and I watched as her lace clad breast came into view. Forcing my eyes away, I watched as she peeled her shirt off of her body, pulling it away from the dried blood. The cut was deep and thick, and the other arm with the letters craved into it was still bleeding a little.

“We need to hook her up to Iv’s and have a blood transfusion. If she looses too much blood then we’ll lose her for good. Sir, do you know her blood type?”

“A+.” I answered. How I knew, that’s a funny question. I had a file on her, I knew everything about her, I studied it day 

“I need an A+ and the Iv’s. Hook her up. She should be awake in an hour or two once we get her set up.”

Frost and I went home so I could change and get Y/N clothes so we could get her once she woke up. Frost’s phone started to ring and he answered it, a look of concern washing over his face.

“Sir, Y/N’s gone. It was the bat.”

[sonofthecarver]

doin this trend for most of the main pcp deities i work with so heres my patron, The Carver

General Questions:

1. What is the name of the entity and what is their canon universe? 

The Carver, The King of The Infernous, Emperor Hash'bor'kanibal

The Arkn Mythos 

2. What drew you to this entity? What drew you to their world?

I was introduced to the Arknverse through my partner and I felt a strong pull to him. 

The series is one of my favourites, and, although it took me a while, I eventually csme to him and asked if I could worship him. 

3. Did you choose them or did they tap you? How?

A bit of both, as I felt a pull to worship him, and I wanted to myself either way. 

4. How do you typically communicate? 

I communicate with him through his designated oracle deck, or through what he likes to call "vibes". 

He radiates a very distinct energy for me, so I can feel his emotions and opinions on my choices. 

5. What role does this entity play in their universe?

Ooh, he plays the role of a chaotic grim reaper, in my opinion. 

He has no true side, he works for himself and his own amusement. 

6. What kind of relationship do you have with this entity?

He is my patron deity, and he has lovingly dubbed me his son.

7. What aspects does this entity reside over?

He is the Dekn Lord of Pain, Torment, Suffering, Torture, Cheese, and sometimes Lettuce, The King of the Infernous, the Arkn Lord of Power and Truths, and The Joy of Fear

8. What kinds of offerings do you/would you give this entity?

He's not picky, but he likes cheese, tobacco, booze (specifically whiskey or vodka), spicy foods, weed, knives, and bones.

Non physical offerings include smoking or drinking in his honor, inflicting pain, and drawing blood.

9. What kinds of animals, stones, elements, plants, etc do you associate with this entity? Why?

His symbols are knives, sickles, devil motifs, skulls, cigarettes, blood, crowns, his devil mask, cleavers, guns, and the Dekn Symbol. 

His sacred animals are predators, and his element is fire. 

He likes any darkly colored stones, especially red calcite and bloodstone.

10. Are there any songs, books, or quotes you associate with this entity? Why?

He enjoys Ghost and a lot of more folksy type of songs like "The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie" and "In Hell I'll Be In Good Company".

11. How and when did you first encounter them as an entity? 

I don't exactly remember, but I'd have to say the first time I properly felt his presence in my room was when I was sick, and he was floating above my bed where I was whining to my boyfriend.

He was teasing me about not being able to handle sickness, but he seemed genuinely concerned about me.

12. How are they particularly involved in your life? Do they teach you anything specific? If so, what?

He's decided he's my father, so he's pretty involved, he hangs around me a lot. 

Not really anything specific, more just tellinge when I fuck up or little bits of life advice. 

13. Do they have any identifying symbols in canon or otherwise?

His sickle, his crown, and his mask are the three I can think of. 

14. Do they have alternate versions, verses, or canons? Do you communicate with all or some of them?

I'm sure there are, but I don't speak to them. 

Compare & Contrast:

15. Choose an aleady-existing deity from our world that has similar traits to this entity. How are they similar, and how are they different?

My immediate comparsion is Ares. 

They're both associated with violence, and have shown affection for certain mortals that are good at just that. 

The difference is that Carver is much more interested in the one on one intimacy of inflicting pain on one with your own hands, while Ares is a war god, which id the broader type of violence. 

16. Choose 6 tropes this entity may or does fall under. Explain if you agree or disagree, and why. 

Alas, Poor Villain - Absolutely. He's put through some shit that a regular viewer of the series has trouble watching. I know he's considered a villain, yet every time he gets hurt it hurts me. 

The Chessmaster - He succeeded in an eons long plan to trick a literal god, and he always seems to have every piece in his corner in the games he plays. 

Fallen Angel - Within certain Arkn stories, he is considered a once-great Arkn who was corrupted and defected to the Dekn side. 

Laughably Evil - He's absolutely fucking hilarious. 

Body Horror - I've only seen his true form a few times but holy FUCK is it terrifying. 

Heroic Sacrifice - I'm going to say it now, him letting his body be destroyed to create the new universe wasn't done in heroics. 

17. What academic studies or professions do you associate with this entity, and would you study any of them yourself? Why or why not?

Anything with death, history, or psychology.

I would, but he's a been pushing me to persue something I would genuinely enjoy, lile tattooing or computer programming. 

18. What is something surprising you have learned about this entity when working with them? Why was it surprising?

He's honestly so nice if you're nice to him, which was a little surprising because he's very much not a nice guy.

He's extremely protective of his worshippers/children: I had an issue with Ellpagg (an arkn entity) coming after me for a good while, and Ellpagg finally backed off after Carver beat him into the ground and said he'd chuck him in the Infernous again if he ever tried to lay a finger on me. 

(I was in the middle of a math class while watching that happen lmao) 

19. Is there a common misconception about this entity? What parts are true, and what parts are wrong?

That he's evil and only ever seeks to harm people. 

Evil? Yeah basically I can't argue that away he's done some pretty henious shit. 

But if you respect him and his power he won't bother you.

If you taunt him or disrespect him it will not end well for you.

Especially if you try to hurt him. 

Gods help you if you're one of the people stupid enough to try and hex or curse him.

20. Has some aspect of your life, energy, emotion, or other changed since meeting the entity? What would it be like if you hadn’t?

I've gotten better at standing up to people and defending my loved ones (at the downside of my anger issues getting worse). 

I've accepted my anger and rage much better now, and my energy has become more offensive because of his influence. 

People tend to think that his protection his a negative or bad thing when they first sense something touched by him. 

Self & Shadow

21. What are things this deity is capable of helping you with, personally? How?

He helps accept anger, rage, and violent urges as a natural thing not to be ashamed of. 

He'll teach you how to stand up for yourself properly, and when to not take any shit from stupid people.

22. Has this entity ever refused something to you? If so, what and why?

I mean, he probably has but fuck me if I remember what. 

23. What do you want to learn from this entity? Why?

Everything he has to teach me. 

He doesn't exactly sit me down like it's a fucking school lesson, its a more in the moment teaching style. 

24. Is there an end-goal with this entity, or do you plan on continuing a relationship with them?

He's my patron, he's stuck with me until I die. 

25. Have you ever disagreed with this entity? Why or why not?

Oh, all the time. 

Usually he's right, and if I don't agree with him he just let's me do it my way and then when i fuck it up he smacks the back of my head and says "see, dumbass, i told you so."

26. What does working with this entity reveal about you?

That I'm a raging bitch and if you fuck with me or my loved ones I'm not afraid to fuck up your whole life? 

27. What do you think you should cultivate about yourself to better work with this entity? Why?

Should probably stop being so stubborn but that's not gonna happen, he likes the banter. 

Also need to work on my godphone smh. 

28. Do you have any fears or anxieties about working with this entity? Why?

Nope. Not a single one. I'm not afraid of him and he's made it clear I have no reason to feae anything that could come after me because of him. 

29. What about this entity’s canon has impacted you the most? Why?

Just, the philosophy of it all. 

30. What UPG/Headcanon do you have about this entity? Why?

This man likes FNAF songs. 

I am dead fucking serious. 

31. Choose 3 major differences between their world and this one. Do these differences affect how you interact? 

Too tired to do this fully but no, it doesnt affect how we interact. 

He understands me and why I do the shit I do and I understand him and why he does the shit he does. 

(stolen from @highpriestness )

[impalaanddemons]

Gravity - Part 5

Summary: Reader’s a young security officer (Lieutanent Junior Grade) who happened to be on an away mission and fall hard for a certain Chief Engineer. Both of them aren’t the most outgoing regarding their feelings and tend to just watch each other from a distance, which is going to change.

Wordcount: 1590

A/N: Some of you guessed what would happen - well, you guessed wrong :P I really hope you like this one!

This fiction is set in AOS

Warnings: some blood, injury, nothing too explicit

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

„MEDICAL TEAM REQUIRED AT SHUTTLE BAY 2.“, Lieutenant Tahak signaled to the Enterprise. You would’ve hailed the Medical Team yourself, but you were too busy pressing down on Cassandras leg. „Stay with me, Cas, just stay with me.“, you said to her as calm as possible, remaining a professional facade. Just as you had learned in academy. What was it with those freak away missions in the last few weeks anyway? „How are you feeling, Cas?“, Ensign Bancroft did his best to tie off her leg. Carmichael was applying first aid to Ensign Mihan from Engineering. „G…Good.“, the voice of your friend was weak, but steady. You gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. „Stay with me for just a bit longer, then, you don’t want to miss me embarrassing myself on shore leave, don’t you?“ you tried to sound reassuring and turned your head to the helmsmen: „How long ‘til we reach the Enterprise?“ - „Just one more minute, Sir.“ Cassandra managed something of a giggle and a grin.

„S..So.. you’re goin’ to ask him out, will ya?“ she muttered. You could see her consciousness slipping away. „If that’s what makes you stay with me right now“, you smiled down to her. Her breath was coming in small, short gasps now. „TOUCH DOWN IN 30 SECONDS, MEDICAL TEAM STANDING BY.“, your helmsman shouted. „There, we’re basically there“. „TOUCH DOWN IN 10 … 9 … 8 … 7 …“ Your head started to feel dizzy for a moment. A soft shock went through the shuttle as you touched down. The ramp was pulled down and the medical team flooded in. „We got two people injured“, you said but of course they were already informed. A relieved sigh left your lips, as you staggered down the ramp: Cassandra and Ensign Mihan were transported off hastily, hypos were used faster then you could look. They were in good hands now. Space: 0 - Enterprise Crew: 1 Once again. You managed an exhausted smile.

The shuttle bay seemed brighter then you remembered, but you tried to not be bothered by it. Your head started too feel light and your eyes seemed to lose focus. „Ah, shock.“, you said to yourself. „Better get to my room then.“ - you felt how the adrenaline pushed logical thought away and how wobbly your legs were. You knew the symptoms, of course. It happened to anyone. Someone called your name, but you didn’t care - focused on your room and on maintaining balance. That voice was far away. Maybe you should sit down for a moment. A giggle slipped from deep in your throat, making it sound alien. Now you were sure it was a shock. A couple of hours in bed, a cup of tea and writing your report would do. You had done this before. „Lieutenant Y/L/N“, the voice was sounding positively angry. „Stop. Right now.“, it was a dark voice. You turned around and saw the great doctor himself. He caught up to you in two long strides. God that men was gorgeous. Not your type but he was like an angry god descending upon you. An angry god, carrying a medical tricorder, which was promptly planted in your face. „You’re vitals are way off, kid, are you injured?“ - „What? No, Sir.“ you stifled a giggle. „Explosion in one of the engineering thingies“, you said and blinked slowly. That should probably not be the wording of your report later on, but at the moment it seemed as accurate as necessary „Right, engineering thingies.“, he muttered and continued his scan. „How’s Cas?“ - „I’ll tell you in a few hours. You’re in shock. I’ll give you a tranquilizer, you’ll stay in medbay for the day.“ he already waved over a stretcher, but you tried to decline: „No, seriously, Sir. I’ll just go shower, go to bed“, you stifled a giggle and straightened up, „and write my report after sleeping it all off.“ He was now growling: „Why does Security always have to argue with me? I am your doctor. You’re in shock. Medbay.“ - „Sir, please. It’s really nothing. We’re trained for this“ giggling again you probably did not make the best argument for your case, but adrenaline was a curious thing. „Good Lord, woman!“ he pushed you onto the next stretcher, nodding to the nurse and  put a tranquilizer shot into your shoulder. „Off to medbay with her“, he scoffed, and that was the last of it.

Two away missions and out cold on both of them. The rest of your crew mates in Security would never have an end of it. You would have to spent a few drinks on shore leave, just to prompt them to forget that. Although, you thought, you weren’t out cold exactly and in this particular case it was foul play on behalf of the CMO. „I’m fine“, you mumbled as you were transferred to a biobed. ��Is she STILL protesting?“, the angry gods voice crossed through the room, but steps quickly left and you sighed. Your eyelids were heavy, but you wouldn’t give up that soon. „Doctor gave you a mild sedative to ease the shock“, a blonde nurse next to you said. „I would really“, you tried to get up and grumbled as your plan did not work out. „ .. really like to just go to my room“. Mild. Yeah. Of course. Another voice pierced the buzz of medbay: „Hows Ensign Mihan doin’?“ - „They’re all fine. As in: Not dead or dying.“ the answer was a slow growl that was really too busy to deal with anyone right now, but it was the first voice that oozed through a thick layer of medicine to your half-awake brain. Oh shit. It was Montgomery Scott.

Feet shuffled around and that voice was talking to someone. The blonde nurse - Chapel - was gone. He hadn’t seen you yet. Maybe you could just get up and sneak to your room? There was nothing more sobering in the universe then deep felt embarrassment. You test-wriggled your toes and got a positive response. Your arms moved too. Balance wasn’t fully there yet. You slowly moved your feet over the bed and to the ground. Just in case your eyes followed your feet to verify correct position. What had that Doctor given you? You had a slight shock, nothing more. Medics always had to blow everything out of proportion. It was this fundamental schism that made life with Medics so … interesting. „‚‘Tis nothing but a small laceration“, said the redshirt with the missing leg, and continued working - you giggled at the thought. „Y/N!“, exclaimed that voice, thick with accent, concerned. Ah Shit. „Are ya alright? Ya not gonnae stand up, are ya?!“ „Would be interesting to see her try“, Doctor McCoy raised an eyebrow at this. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and mumbled something to yourself best not heard by anyone but the gods that may or may not be watching you. „What the hell happened to you?“ his voice got husky with worry, at which you felt flattered. Only then did your eyes notice the blood on your clothes, splattering that uniform of yours. „Oh“, you said. „Ya alright?“, he repeated and strode over to you. You blushed. His hair had that light red shine in the light, his face stern, furrowed with what looked like honest concern on the edge to becoming alarmed. „It’s not my blood“, you answered as if that explained everything, whispering and blushing and turning your head away. This day could not possibly get any worse. „Ya look like shit, lass.“ - his warm hand touched your shoulder without much hesitation. „And like ya could use a drink.“ the color of your face now matched that of your shirt, as you turned to look at him again. It was now in the range of possibility to not understand anything he said - blood rushed through your ears too loudly. „I just want to go to my room, have a good couple of hours of sleep and I’ll be fit as a fresh day.“ How could you not feel flattered by his concerned face? How his eyes were tracing you, as if there was no medical tricorder in the galaxy he’d trust until he’d made sure for himself? „Doctor McCoy here won’t let me“, you added. The engineers hand still rested on your shoulder, his thumb now drawing small absent-minded circles on your back as he turned to speak to the Doctor. You didn’t really listen to what he said at this point. The intimate gesture send goose bumps down your arms. „She can go in the evening, when I’m sure she’s got no internal injuries. And I’ve got no more time to discuss with bull headed people who think they’ve got several years of medical study covered, because they „feel like it“, and with that, Bones turned around, scoffing at a nearby nurse and made it ever so clear that this discussion was over. The smile on Scottys face as he turned back to you was more of a half grin - clearly satisfied with himself. It was the warm, slightly impish expression of someone confident that if he could handle a Warp Core at Warp 9, he could take on a few other challenges in his life. It was also the expression of a man with a plan, which only slightly intimidated you. „Ya heard the doctor, lass.“ his hand lifted from your shoulder. You already started to miss the warmth.

„So…“, he began and there was a glint of laughter in his eyes, „Shall I escort you to your … room this evening?“

READ ON

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS! PLEASE LET ME KNOW! :) YOU WANNA BE TAGGED? LET ME KNOW! :) 

@kirk-enterprise @youre-on-a-starship @kaitymccoy123 @webhoard@inaugural13 @flowerbunbunny

[sevralships]

“Just Because You Can” Part 3 of 7, Chapters 9-11

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal​ after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 9: Operation Tessie

Friday had felt like it would never end, so great was Dipper’s anticipation for Operation Tessie. But finally, as he knew it would, the day had come. He and Jo had risen early, eaten breakfast, grabbed the packs they had prepared the night before, and backed the Chariot out of the driveway before the sun (or the rest of their family) had stirred from their rest. Dipper had lost the race to the car, as usual, because despite his significantly longer legs, Jolene had the advantage of being a cheater. That meant he had been the one sitting behind the wheel as the sky lightened to a milky hue.

In contrast to their daily drive to school, they hadn’t played any music on the drive. There was something sacred about the pale quiet morning that neither of them wanted to disturb. Jo had sat in the passenger seat, turning the waterproof camera they’d pooled cash for last year absentmindedly in her lap. They had spoken little, both silently prepping for the adventure ahead.

The sun was high in the sky now, shining bright and hot on the woods. Dipper was grateful for the shade of the trees, but still found sweat wetting the back and underarms of his tee shirt. They’d parked the station wagon on the little gravel lot by the trailhead for Cave Rock. Cave Rock was a large natural rock formation on the southeastern shore of Lake Tahoe. The hike to the top was short, easy, and popular. The trips had done it with dad once years ago, and in a photo album somewhere, was a picture of the three of them grinning wide photo-ready smiles with the tableau of the lake behind them. Dipper smiled inwardly to himself thinking of it. He’d stood in the middle of his two sisters, as he customarily did for pictures, wearing the electric blue Monstermon tee shirt that had been brand new and treasured at the time. He still had it in the back of his tee shirt drawer, though it was much to small and worn thin, the decal faded and cracked, in some places peeled off completely. Mabel had been on his right, an explosion of gleeful little girliness. She’d insisted on wearing a cotton candy pink tutu over her jeans, and their parents had allowed it, already knowing better than to stand between Mabel and her overzealous fashion choices. Her hair was pulled into pigtails on either side of her head and she was smiling that signature huge Mabel smile, showing off her uneven pre-braces teeth, eyes directed mischievously at the bunny ears she held poised over Dipper’s head. Jo had stood to Dipper’s left, her shorts revealing scabby knees and bandaids on her shins, battle scars from climbing the knotted branches of the Dogwood tree in their backyard. Her auburn hair, worn longer then than it was now, was fluffing out of a single french braid Mabel had done for her in the car. Jolene wasn’t looking at the camera, though. Although she had a smile obediently plastered on her face, her head was turned so that the photo captured her profile. Her right arm was looped loosely around her brother’s waist, but her left hand shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun, casting a shadow over her face as she looked out of the picture’s borders into the distance, impatient to go back to exploring.

They weren’t doing the hike to the summit of Cave Rock today, though. They had come in the entrance of that trail, but instead of following the white blazes that marked the ascent to the top, they had broken away to make their way toward the water. It was tough going some of the way, when game trails petered off and they had to bushwhack their way through underbrush and tread carefully on uneven ground. They had worn their swimsuits underneath their clothes, in case the need to go in the water should arise, and as the day got hotter and hotter the prospect of swimming was sounding more and more appealing to Dipper. It’s early enough in the season that the water will be really cold, Dipper noted, Cold sounds pretty damn good right now.

“Are we theeeeere yet?” Jo whined sarcastically, although Dip could hear a tinge of very real impatience in her voice.

“If my estimate’s correct, we oughta get down to water level in the next ten minutes or so,” Dipper replied. He squinted through the trees at the unmistakable glint of the sun on the water’s surface.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jo said with a stiff salute, “If that’s what your calculations deduced I daresay that hypothesis is sound.”

“Ya know, if you didn’t want an answer, you could have tried not asking me every three minutes,” Dipper pointed out.

“But Bro-tective,” Jo said with a falsely sweet smile, “Your hypotheses are always so exciting.”

Dipper rolled his eyes but smiled. Jo was totally in her element. She never shone as brilliantly as when she was in her hiking boots, traipsing through the woods, hot on the trail of one mystery or other. Like a plant, she wilted indoors but flourished and brightened in the presence of sun and fresh air. She was moving at a brisk pace, taking in her surroundings happily, her focus never wavering from Tessie awaiting them somewhere ahead. She walked ahead of Dipper and the life jacket attached to her pack swung a little from side to side with each step, in unison with her short, springy ponytail. It was all Dipper could do to train his eyes on the orange life jacket and try to keep them from gravitating down to her round bottom.

Jo asked how long it would be twice more before they reached the rocky shoreline. It was common lore that Tessie lived in a subterranean cave beneath Cave Rock and they’d agreed to start their search with that. The leaves and soil gave way to pebbles and flat fragmented stretches of stone underfoot.

“Fiiiinally!” Jo exclaimed, spreading her arms and giving one grateful spin before picking up the pace and rushing ahead.

“Wait, Jo-jo!” Dipper called, speeding up to follow her, “Let’s review the plan.”

Jolene gave a prolonged groan, but stopped and turned to face him. She crossed her arms impatiently and pinned him with an unrelenting green gaze. God, her eyes are amazing out here, the sight of them always struck Dipper when they were out amongst the trees like this, “Fine, fine,” she said, “Tell me the plan again.”

“I don’t like your tone, young lady,” Dipper said, in his spot-on impersonation of dad.

“Ew, no,” Jo said, covering her ears, “Uncle! Uncle!  I’ll listen to the plan. Just please don’t do the dad voice, it’s so skeevyyy!”

Dipper grinned at her dismay and retrieved the typed out plan from the pocket of his swim trunks. He unfolded it and said, “Let’s see… m’kay, we already completed steps 1A through 3C,” he nibbled his lip in lieu of a pen, “Whiiiich brings us to 4A.”

“...which is?” Jo prompted in a bored tone.

“ ‘Upon reaching the shoreline,’ ” Dipper read, “ ‘Assess the presence of any cave openings or irregularities at the base of Cave Rock.’ ”

“No, duh,” Jo grumbled, turning on her heel to do just that.

“It goes on to state the following,” Dipper continued, “ ‘4B1, In the case of no openings or irregularities apparent, fan out in either direction to assess the nearby shore.’ or ‘4B2, In the case of apparent openings and/or irregularities, screen for evidence of preternatural presence (i.e. shed scales, ectoplasm, tracks, or other byproducts of the extra-ordinary).’ ”

“Cool beans, boss,” Jo said, shooting Dip finger-guns, “Or, in layman’s terms, look around for weird stuff.”

Dipper gave a long-suffering sigh, “Yes. Look around for weird stuff.” A companionable silence fell between the two of them as they moved forward, taking in their surroundings carefully in search of ‘weird stuff’.

Chapter 10: Operation Tessie, Cont’d

Jolene’s body thrummed with the purpose of adventure. She could practically smell Tessie nearby. The banks near the base of Cave Rock were stony and precarious, so, though her mind pushed her to leap into action, she had to proceed with care. Dipper moved along the base of the rock face in one direction while Jo took the other. The anticipation and promise of something, anything, hung too heavy in the air to leave room for errant conversation. She moved along, keeping her eyes peeled for any ‘opening and/or irregularity’.

“Jo-jo! Over here!” Dipper called behind her. He was about twenty feet away but she was beside him in an instant. Before she could ask or he could explain, she saw what he’d seen. There was a small inlet of the lake, no more than six feet across. It looked unremarkable enough, but it was worth further investigation. Jo dropped her pack on the ground and set about unlacing her boots. Dipper stared at her, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, brainiac?” she asked, without looking up, peeling off a sock and stuffing it into her shoe, “I’m going swimming.”

“4B2, Jo, we’re looking for evidence of the preternatural,” Dipper reminded her, sounding miffed.

To hell with 4B2, I ain’t gettin’ any younger here, the voice of adventure complained in Jo’s head, “Yeah, that’s what I’m doin’, Dip-man,” she said, trying to appease him, as she shucked the sock from her other foot and stood in her bare feet on the pebbles, cool in the shade of Cave Rock.

“C’mon, Jo,” Dipper said, his voice taking on some of its old squeakiness as Jolene undid her fly and wiggled out of her jeans, “Can’t you just follow the plan we agreed on?”

“Dipper, Jesus, I already told you I am!” Jo said as she pulled her sweaty tee shirt off over her head. The muscles in her brother’s jaw were tight, his gaze darkening now that she stood in front of him in just her teal one-piece bathing suit, “I’m looking for ‘evidence of the preternatural’ down there, in the ‘opening or irregularity’!” I love him, but I’m not letting his reticent bullshit stand between me and Tessie, Jo thought fiercely, as she nudged Dipper out of her way, and jumped unceremoniously into the water.

“Jo!” Dipper called uselessly as his sister’s head disappeared under the water with a splash, “...your life jacket.” He said, effectively to himself, for all the good it did.

Jo kept her eyes open, true to her word that she was looking for evidence. The water was cold, but no colder than she’d expected. She was pleasantly surprised that the water was deeper in the inlet that it had appeared. It had only looked about seven feet deep, but it was never easy to tell with naturally occurring bodies of water like this one. In fact, it was much deeper than that, at least fifteen feet. And beautiful. It was another world. The rocky basin of the lake was worn smooth from thousands of years of gentle currents, and slick and lush everywhere with dark green aquatic vegetation. The muffling effect of water pressure was a welcome otherworldly silence in her ears. The sunlight penetrated the surface and filtered through the lazy waves in slowly-rippling lines of green-blue.

Jo propelled herself forward with one smooth breaststroke and had to resist the instinct to gasp at the sight before her. There was a roughly round opening in the bedrock in front of her. The top of the opening was mere inches below the surface of the water. Desperate to see more before her breath ran out, Jo kicked her legs and pushed herself forward with her arms until she was at the mouth of the opening. It was just under four feet across at its widest part and dark within. Jolene’s heart was racing, wishing with all her heart she could breathe underwater, not wanting to waste time surfacing, knowing Dipper would waste more of her time with his stupid plan. But she could hold her breath no longer.

In the time Jolene had been submerged, Dipper had irritably stripped off his clothes and was securing his life jacket on. Jo’s head broke the surface, gulping deep breaths of air. Before Dipper could get a word in, Jo’s eyes found his. Oh no, he thought, seeing the familiar light of chaotic zeal in her eyes. It was the look his sister got whenever she was on the brink of adventure, when she was feeling alive in the face of danger. She gave him a slightly crazed grin, and said simply, “Cave!”

“Jo, you need your life jack--”

“Did you hear me, Dip-man?!” Jo cut him off, “I found a cave!”

“Okay, but--”

“No, Dip!” She snapped, scrambling out of the water and unfastening her pack, “Fuck the life jacket! I need a flashlight and the camera!”

Dipper wanted to insist, he wanted to yell at her, to convince her, but his voice died in his throat at the sight of her. Her bathing suit was soaked, and clung to every inch of her body. He could see the small nubs of her nipples, hardening under her suit as the air cooled against her. She bent over to rifle through the contents of her pack, and he was presented with the sight of the wet fabric snug against her rear. He swallowed hard as his gaze followed the cleft of her ass down between her legs, where it became a cleft of an entirely different nature. He could clearly see the shape of her lips and watched, transfixed, as a drop of water gathered and fell from them, distantly aware of his stiffening erection.

Jo had only one thing on her mind and it was getting into that cave. She retrieved the underwater flashlight and the camera in no time and turned back to the water without giving Dipper a second glance. “Oh, fuck it,” she heard him mumble behind her and a splash a second later. She looked over her shoulder to see his head emerging from the water, shaking the water from his hair like a dog. He had ditched his life jacket next to hers.

“Good of you to join me,” she teased, “The cave’s right in front of us, and the mouth is big enough for us to fit through.” She took a deep breath and dove back under without further explanation. Dipper cursed to himself again before following her lead.

She had switched on the flashlight and he instantly saw the cave she had been describing. He swam forward until he was beside her, studying the slippery walls of the cave entrance. His eyes widened at the sight of something by his right shin. He bent fluidly in the water to retrieve it and held it up for Jo to see with him. Sure enough, it was exactly what he’d thought. A scale. It was about an inch or two larger than the palm of his hand, and unmistakable. It was hard to tell the color underwater, but it shone with an indifferent iridescence. He slipped it into the pocket of his suit and Jo smiled at him, keeping her lips shut, and offered a fist bump.

As he reciprocated, a rush of murky-smelling water came from within the cave, and Jolene and Dipper retreated in opposite directions, each laying their back against the stone to either side of the cave. With the suddenness of a train flashing by in a subway station, something large and dark flew out of the hole in the rock. Tessie! Jo and Dipper exchanged a millisecond-long look of disbelief before each kicking off of the stone and swimming to catch up with the object of their search.

With the beam of the flashlight directed at her and her trajectory leading her into the better lit openness of the lake, the creature looked to be about thirty feet in length. Description of her had varied anywhere from snake to seal to dolphin. Dipper had not gotten a good look at her head, but her body was most like that of a salamander. Long, supple, and soft with four webbed feet and a tail. She moved by a combination of wriggling like a snake and paddling like a salamander. She moved at a neat pace, but it was not hard to keep up with her. She was a beautiful black, shining cobalt and green like the plumage of a Grackle.

Dipper had been so taken with the sight of her, that he had stopped watching for Jolene. He looked around now, panic-stricken. In his mind suddenly vivid fears were bursting like flashbulbs, of bubbles streaming from Jo’s drowning mouth, of her soft body dashed against the rocks. A flash of pale skin alerted him to her location and he swore at her loudly in his head. She was just beside Tessie’s head, flashlight tucked between her body and her elbow, holding the camera up and desperately snapping pictures. Instinct to protect his sister overwhelmed instinct to protect himself and Dipper cried out for her, water rushing immediately into his mouth and lungs.

Jo didn’t hear him and didn’t realize at first what happened, but Tessie’s ears, more sensitive than theirs to the vibrations in her waters, whirled around at once, her fleshy tail colliding with Dipper’s side and flinging him through the water.

Jo’s thirst for proof was intoxicating, maddening, clouding her senses. Tessie was right there. But this wasn’t just about Tessie, it was about all the past adventures she had missed, all the future adventures that victory could open the door to. Tessie twisted again in the water and presented Jolene with a perfect composition, revealing her entire form, the details of her face and color of her scales revealed by a shaft of watery light. Jo mashed the button on the camera without ceasing until Tessie had swam swiftly away.

With Tessie’s retreat, sense began to return to Jolene. Her lungs were on fire, screaming for air. And a rush of shameful adrenaline shot through her when her mind landed on Dipper, and she swam as hard as she could in the direction Tessie had thrown him.

Chapter 11: Homeward

Despite the success of their journey, Jo and Dipper did not speak much on the ride home. A shamefaced Jolene had offered to drive and Dipper had shrugged silently and climbed into the passenger seat. It was uncomfortable sitting in their wet bathing suits, but neither of them complained. It didn’t matter.

Dipper fumed quietly as Jo drove. This shit is exactly why we need a plan, he repeated to himself for the hundredth time, we cannot do things that way. They had been lucky this time. When Tessie had struck him, she had pushed him back into the inlet where they’d jumped in. Fortunately, he hadn’t been too out of it to recognize his surroundings and had managed to crawl out of the lake, hacking up the water in his lungs and trying to get his bearings. Jo did not follow for a few minutes, and Dipper had spent those minutes in a complete panic. Before his breathing had even returned to its normal rhythm, an anxiety attack was upon him. He was convinced that Jo was dead, that she’d died on his watch, that he’d led her to a watery grave.

I knew, he had chastised himself, I saw the signs. She was acting crazy, stupid, she was going to get herself killed. A toxic self-loathing bubbled in his chest. When she came out of the water, he should have stopped her. Should have made her see, should have forced her to see reason. But you were too busy checking her out, you sicko. The sight of her wet bathing suit snug against her skin was vivid in his mind and it doused him in shame. You were too busy ogling your sister to protect her. Not fucking cool, man. That is your only and most important job.

When she had popped out of the water, gasping for air and calling his name, his anxiety had transformed instantly into anger. It’s not my fault, he realized, the situation coming clear in his mind, it’s her fault. She put us both in harm’s way! A thought had popped into his head, suddenly, uninvited, of Mabel at home. They’d left that morning while she’d been asleep, hadn’t said goodbye, and with the reckless dangerous bullshit that Jo just pulled, it’s a miracle we’re both going home. Anger and guilt and sadness tore at the inside of his ribs, at the thought of Mabel up all night, worrying why her two best friends hadn’t come home, hadn’t called, hadn’t even hugged her goodbye or said where they were going.

Jo’s impulsiveness had gotten them in trouble plenty of times before. And it was bad enough that Jo had almost gotten him killed, could have gotten herself killed, but she would’ve broken Mabel’s heart, without even caring. That, Dip couldn’t forgive.

You’re such a piece of shit. You’re such a piece of shit. You’re such a piece of shit. The mantra in Jolene’s head had hardly let up since Tessie had swam away. In an oxygen-deprived frenzy, she had scoured the area for her brother’s inert form before admitting she couldn’t help him if she let herself drown. When she’d come up for air, she’d found him sitting on the stony bank with a stormy look on his face. Dipper didn’t anger easily, but when he did, he made no effort to hide it. They’d dressed and hiked back to the car without saying more than ten words to each other, and even less since they’d been on the road.

A sharp, sorry feeling gnawed at Jo’s insides. She had gotten so caught up in Tessie, in the proximity of victory, in the thrill of the chase, she’d practically forgotten Dipper was there. She’d felt so invincible, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t either. You are such an unbelievable piece of shit, she told herself again. Yes, they’d both wanted this, but she had acted like an idiot. I should maybe have paid a little more attention to the plan.

“Learn to follow a plan,” Dipper said, as if he’d read her mind, his voice dangerously quiet, “Learn to follow a plan, or this is the last adventure I go on with you.”

“Okay,” Jo said, her voice whistling out of her pathetically.

“I’m serious,” Dipper said, leaning his head against the headrest and shutting his eyes, “No more ditching a plan the minute you find a clue. No more unnecessary risk.” he sighed, “It seems like I can’t keep you from trying to get yourself killed, but you’re not going to get us both killed.” She saw him grimace out the corner of her eye, “I’m not doing that to Mabes.”

Jolene had thought she felt bad before, but those words hit her like a truck. You’re a reeeeeal piece of shit, Jolene Pines, the voice in her head insisted, You love your sister enough to watch her change and jack off to her, but not enough to consider how much you could be breaking her heart. Way to fucking go. The tears were rolling silently down her cheeks before she even realized they were in her eyes, “I’m sorry, Dipper,” she said softly.

“Just don’t pull this shit again,” he said simply. They were both quiet for a moment, stewing in their private guilt, before Dipper asked tentatively, “Did you… did you get a good shot?”

Jo shook her head, “I’m not sure. I think so, but I, uh, I haven’t looked.”

Dipper reached into the backseat and fumbled around for the camera. He turned it on and used the preview feature to flip through the photos Jo had taken, “Wow,” he said softly.

“Wow good or wow bad?”

“Wow good, Jo,” Dipper said, a hint of excitement rising in his voice, “Wow very fucking good.”

A few minutes later, Jo pulled the Mystery Machine into their driveway. Her heart twinged with relief at being home, and guilt that she was almost the reason they didn’t make it home. Too exhausted and excited to worry about it, they left their packs in the backseat and went inside with only the camera. No sooner than they opened the door than they were greeted by the smell of food cooking and Mabel’s voice, “Jo-jo? Dip? Is that you guys?”

“Yeah,” Dipper called, with a somewhat bashful smile, “It’s us, c’mere!”

Mabel came tearing into the room from the kitchen, the smell of some feast clinging to her and making their stomachs grumble. As if she wasn’t irresistible enough, Dipper thought, breathing the aroma in deep, such a welcome change from the murky lake smell that clung to himself and Jo. She explained that she was making dinner for all of them. Mom and dad had gone out (something they’d been doing a lot, trying to ‘rekindle the spark’ or something) and she figured they’d have worked up at appetite with all that mystery-hunting. Both Dipper and Jo felt the guilt clamp down a little harder on their hearts, imagining Mabel waiting at home with a full supper getting cold on the table, laid out for siblings that weren’t coming back.

However, they pushed the feeling aside and mustered the appropriate enthusiasm to show her the best photos of Tessie and the scale they’d swiped from the entrance to her cave. Mabel bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet and hugged them and congratulated them, assuring them that they were ‘totes gonna win’. After a few minutes of jubilation, Dipper and Jo excused themselves to get cleaned up before the food was ready.

Mabel walked back into the kitchen and let her excited facade fall. She covered her face with her hands and took deep steadying breaths, trying with all her might not to cry. They match, she told herself brokenly, They come in all sunburned and exhausted and stinky and I’m here like a dumb housewife, putting dinner on the table. But why would they care about that? She sniffled, taking her hands from her face to stir one of the pots on the stove, Why would they want this when they could have someone brave and smart like them? They’d both glowed with the same weary pride as they showed her the proof they’d brought back, and there was only room for two in that pool of light. Whatever it was that had happened to the two of them out there in Tahoe today was just another thing between them of which she could never be a part.

Continue to Part 4