#you wouldn't have come if we just invited you....

[artificial-transmutations]

A night you won't forget

You arrived at the parking lot exactly on time, but Zach was already waiting for you in front of the building, regardless. Similar to yourself, he was wearing a suit and had his dark hair styled for the occasion.

'The occasion' was actually not that special. A new casino, the 'Shifting Sands', had opened in town, and a couple of friends invited the two of you to a poker night in one of the private rooms they rented. You knew one of them, Daniel, for a long time, and when he got together with his now long-time partner, Ryan, you were introduced to one of his friends, Zach. The two of you got along okay. You were both straight, and occasionally, you hang out together to watch a game, but Zach wasn't necessarily your *best* friend. Still, he was a decent dude, and you greeted him with a fist.

"Hey, Zach. What's with the fancy get-up? Didn't they tell you it's just gonna be the four of us? No girls to get all pretty for."

Zach grinned and returned the greeting.

"Who knows what the evening will bring? Perhaps we will get out of our room later, and for that, I'd like to be *prepared*. Besides, you're suited up as well."

"Guilty as charged. I've had the same thought, and I've come *prepared* as well."

You flashed him a condom wrapper that you carried inside your chest pocket and the both of you laughed heartily.

The 'shifting sands' was a modern and glittering casino in the theme of Arabian nights. The staff was dressed accordingly and was pretty attractive, a fact that neither you nor Zach missed as you looked around.

"This place is amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't have minded if we just stayed and played here instead."

The two of you followed a hostess into a separate room behind a curtain and were greeted by the two other players. The gay couple had dressed up as well, and wore matching suits, which produced a playful roll of the eye from Zach's side.

Besides the two of them, there was one other person in the room, a rather good-looking and muscular fellow wearing a sleeveless shirt in the house's style - without doubt an employee of the casino. You waved a hello, and the employee smiled.

"I believe we're complete, then."

He got up and closed the door, drowning out the noise from the rest of the casino effectively.

"Greetings everyone. I'm your host, Gene - which is short for Eugene, if you are wondering - and I'm here to guide you through a night you won't forget."

The guy had a slight exotic accent, and the way he pronounced 'Gene' sounded somewhat like 'Genie' - which was, without doubt, what he was aiming at. While you could appreciate that the employee was certainly somewhat handsome, you guessed that Daniel and Ryan had to be practically drooling.

After exchanging some pleasantries, the five of you sat down at the table to play. This was the moment you had been somewhat nervous about, and you were glad that only your friends were here.

"Uhm. Before we begin. I actually have never played poker before."

Zach looked at you like you had just announced you were a chicken in disguise, but the dealer just chuckled.

"No problem. What's your name?"

You told him your name, and he nodded. "Alright, let me just explain the rules."

He did, and you listened closely. It didn't appear to be all that difficult, but it was a lot to remember the different card and hand values. Finally, you nodded.

"Great. Now, before we begin, let's get to know each other a bit. The two of you are together?"

Ryan nodded.

"Yeah, we are. I'm Ryan, this is my boyfriend Daniel, and this is Zach, a friend."

The dealer smiled and his eyes sparkled. "Well, welcome to the 'Shifting Sands', once more. I guess you are the top?"

Daniel looked like Gene had just punched him and he flushed red immediately. Ryan, however, answered.

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"Just genuine interest. And the two of you..."

Zach was half a second quicker to answer than you.

"We're not together. And not gay."

"Got it. Not gay." Gene chuckled for a moment before starting to deal the cards.

Besides his shameless questions at the beginning, Gene was a brilliant conversationalist, with a bit of a show master attitude and even though you lost most of the games, you had a great evening filled with laughter, light food and tasty drinks. Your only solace in losing was that Zach fared little better, although he supposedly knew the game better than you.

Later in the evening, the chips representing your money had melted away to a point where it was doubtful you could play another round, and Zach's looked quite similar. You excused yourself to the toilet before that last round. Even the men's room was tastefully designed in the casino's theme, and you understood why this place had such high rankings on the internet.

When you returned to the table, you noticed that the tiny stack of chips in front of Zach had grown a bit: one more chip, in a glittering, shining color, had been added to it.

"Hey, where did that come from? You were as broke as I," you protested, but Gene just flashed a smile.

"Relax. Zach just brought one more thing to the table. Remember, you can bet everything you brought here."

"So, what did you bet?" you asked, curiously. Zach looked like he was trying hard to stay serious, and finally, Ryan burst out laughing.

"He bet *you*."

"He... what?" you asked, confused.

"To be more exact, Zach bet your humanity." Gene explained with humorously sparkling eyes. "As I explained, everything you brought is fair game."

It was clear you were past the serious game part of the evening, and you laughed as well.

"Well, then I want to bet something, too. And that is... Zach's *decency*!"

Everyone on the table laughed, except for Gene, who just smiled and dealt you another sparkling chip.

"Very well. I guess this is the last round, then."

He dealt the cards and even though your hand wasn't too bad, Ryan won everything, including your new chips.

You didn't mind losing, and after the game was over, the four of you got up to leave, but Gene raised a hand.

"Gentlemen, you still have to pay up. As I said, it's going to be a night you won't forget."

Suddenly, you felt *strange*. It was hard to describe the feeling, but a sudden wave of weakness went over you. Before you could voice your discomfort, however, you heard Zach talking.

"Man, is it getting hot in here all of a sudden?"

Your friend had already disposed of his jacket and was just half unbuttoning and half ripping open his shirt, in front of the eyes of everyone.

Suddenly, Zach grinned as he wiped away the sweat from his brow.

"Na. It's not getting hot, *I* am hot. Hot as always."

He cupped his groin, which was developing an obvious tent, and winked at Daniel and Ryan.

"Come on, admit it. You wanted me here just so you could ogle me all evening. I don't blame you, I'm just a hot stud."

He ground his groin into the air, and you could see him *changing*. His muscles swelled and his pecs and abs popped, his shoulders grew broader, his arms thicker. His hair became darker and longer, until he resembled a greasy biker model, complete with tattoos on the thick arms.

Zach's body wasn't the only thing growing. His cock, which was obviously hard all of a sudden, also grew in both length and girth, and it was spurting pre as he flaunted his new body shamelessly.

Both Ryan and Daniel were staring incredulously, and Daniel, who was the bottom of the two as you had learned today, even subconsciously licked his lips.

"You like what you see, huh?" Zach addressed Daniel now, who couldn't help but stare.

"Thought as much you needy boy. Hey, Ryan, how about we share your bitch tonight?"

"I, uh..." Ryan began, but Daniel looked indeed like he was about to drool.

"Ookay, I guess. But right here?"

"Yeah, fuck it." Zach answered. "I even brought protection."

With that, he grabbed you by the hair. You were so weak by now you had trouble standing and more or less collapsed in front of him.

Thinking he wanted to have the condom in your pocket, you fumbled with your own jacket, but Zach had other ideas, as he ripped down your pants.

"Come on, let's get nice and ready for that ass of yours," he addressed Daniel, while unceremoniously ramming his hard cock up your ass, which made you nearly cry out in surprise. However, it didn't feel as painful as you had expected, and to your confusion, the cock inside your ass seemed to grow even larger.

Only as your clothing slipped off from you piece by piece, you realized this wasn't what was happening. Instead of his cock growing larger, you were becoming smaller! The room around you grew, as more and more of your insides disappeared to make room for the gigantic cock, leaving yourself somehow... hollow.

At the same time, your skin changed texture. Within moments, what had once been normal skin, felt more and more artificial, even rubbery, no, more and more like *latex*. Only now did you realize with horror what you were becoming. Wrapped tightly around the cock of your previously straight friend, you were reduced to a condom!

With your last strength, you looked towards Gene, but the man was just leaning back in his chair, watching the events unfolding with an amused smile and a sparkle in his eyes.

Your legs and arms had disappeared, and so had your face, but you could see, smell and feel everything, including the musky cock filling you up to the brim. Now, however, Zach gave your elastic form another tug and Ryan a high five, before they both got to work on different sides of the amazed bottom. In mere moments, your world was eclipsed by the ass of your friend, as Zach and Ryan spit-roasted Daniel. You were pistoned in and out of his eager hole, and you couldn't help but share the excitement of all parties involved.

It didn't take too long with the movement of three sweaty male bodies until Zach's balls contracted and you felt his dick pulse inside of you. Then, with a powerful spurt, you were filled up with his cum from the inside, bulging out the section of your latex body that had once been your face. All your senses were fixated on the load, which you both felt and tasted at the same time. The moans from the other end told you that, simultaneously, the other men had reached their climax as well, and you felt like you had cummed yourself.

It took a few minutes for the afterglow to fade, but once Zach has caught his breath, he pulled you off of his dick and tied your back end into a knot before throwing you into the trash can without further consideration.

You faintly heard the three of them say their goodbyes to Gene and some plans to hit the clubs now, but after a few minutes, you were left alone, in the stinking dark, still filled with your friend's cum.

Later in the night, the trash bin was emptied into a big container, but that didn't change much. It seemed like you were left there for good, just an object to dispose of. Eventually, you drifted to a kind of sleep.

When you woke up, it was already morning. Thankfully, you were human again, although naked and in a trash container, and you could still taste Zach's cum. You held your head.

That was certainly a night you wouldn't forget.

And, against all rationality, you looked forward to doing that again. You did feel somewhat empty without a dick to fill you out...

[spectralscathath]

Tour Guide to the Unexplained- A Gravity Falls Fanfiction

Chapter 2- Blue Light Fright Night

Stan and Ford didn’t expect much when getting shipped up to Gravity Falls to stay with estranged family. Not a party-hating ghost, not new friends and new enemies, and definitely not the Mystery Shack and their lying uncle who runs it. But with Ford’s smarts and Stan’s punching, there’s no mystery they can’t solve.

Ao3 Link

"I can't believe it," Ford scowled as he restocked the snowglobe shelf. Little mini Mystery Shacks mocked him as they sat beside glass-encased Waddleses. How did Grunkle Dipper even get question mark-shaped glitter for these? "Gnomes on our first day- then we don't see jack!"

"Maybe we fought the gnomes so well they told the rest of the forest to be scared of us?" Stan polished the body parts jars on the other side of the aisle. 

"I think you're giving yourself too much credit."

"Hey-" Stan kicked him in the shin. Ford kicked back without thinking, focused on trying to get all the snowglobes lined up perfectly. "Maybe we're just looking in the wrong places? It's only been three days since gnome-pocalypse."

"We're not calling it 'gnome-pocalypse'. It was only a hundred or so gnomes. An apocalypse would require at least a thousand." He was rounding down as well. 

"Fine. What are we gonna call it then?"

"Uh-" 

"So are you guys coming to the party tonight?" Carla interrupted as she came around the corner, her nametag pinned to the front of her pink shirt and a flower in her hair. 

"Party?" Ford looked at her, setting down the final snowglobe. 

"Yeah!" Carla beamed and did a little dance in place, hopping from one foot to the other. "It's at the high school gym- the local sheriff sets up one every month for all the teens and it's super fun. You should totally come and meet all my friends- it'll be awesome!"

Ford's breath caught in his throat, an indescribable mixture of wonder and excitement filling him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. A real invitation to a real party. They'd never had one before! And here Carla was, offering an invitation like they were normal . Like it didn't matter that Ford had six fingers and Stan had the school record for detentions. 

"Yeah, we'll definitely be there!" He blurted out immediately, unwilling to let the opportunity of a lifetime slip by. "Wow, this is so exciting- Stanley, our first party!"

"Have you… never been to a party before?" Carla's face fell. 

" Pfft - of course we have," Stanley jumped in, waving a hand. "He just means in Gravity Falls, yunno. Jersey parties are really different so-"

"Oh, totally. But get ready, a Gravity Falls party is gonna knock your socks off!" Carla was all smiles again. Ford could see the reason why Grunkle Dipper had her as a cashier, she had a very upbeat demeanour that seemed popular with the tourists. The way she talked to them, able to get them smiling and laughing and telling her stories about their travels, she made it look so easy. Like talking to people was easy. Ford wondered how she did it. 

Maybe if he asked, she'd let him observe and record her interactions for science?

"Earth to Sixer-" Stanley poked him in the face and Ford spluttered, swatting at his hand. "You okay in there?"

'I'm fine!" Ford looked around and adjusted his glasses. "Where'd Carla go?"

"A tour finished so she's gone to do her charm offensive on getting them to buy junk," Stan shrugged. "Are you sure you want to go to a party?"

"Yeah!" Was that even a question? "Don't you? Why did you lie to Carla? We've never been invited anywhere before."

"Listen, Fordsy," Stanley put an arm around his shoulders. "When people invite you to do stuff you haven't done, you gotta pretend you have, or else they'll think 'wow, what kinda losers are those guys, never going to parties'. You wanna be in the in-crowd, go along with the popular decision if you don't wanna stand out."

"How do you know that?" Ford scrunched his nose. It seemed unnecessarily complicated, wouldn't honesty be the best policy in any conversation?

"Just makes sense," Stan shrugged. "Now Carla won't be thinking, 'those guys must be lame', she'll be thinking we're cool dudes back home."

"But we're not?"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't say that." Stan patted his back. "Do you really wanna go?"

"Of course! This is a chance to meet the wider population of Gravity Falls, and I bet with all the anomalies in this area, I won't even be the weirdest thing anyone's seen today!" He'd always wanted to go to a party. Like a regular kid. Maybe Gravity Falls wasn't so bad. 

"You're not weird," Stan scowled. "If any of them give you trouble I'll hit them."

"Stanley, mom said one week. You still have three more days." Ford reminded him. 

"Blegh-" Stanley stuck out his tongue. "Now we just gotta convince Grunkle Dipper to let us go."

"Why would we need to convince him? Surely he'll understand how important this is to our preteen social development."

#

"Not a chance." Dipper didn't even look up from the pasta sauce he was stirring. 

"What?!" They yelled in unison, Ford looking like all his dreams crashed and burned and Stan slamming his hands on the kitchen table. He hid a wince. Toughen up, Stan. Be a man. 

"It's a cop party, no nephews of mine are going to a cop party." 

"Grunkle Dipper, do you have something against cops?" Stan had to ask.

"I didn't agree to more questions."

So the answer was a yes. Cool. 

"But Grunkle Dipper-" Ford whined. "We've never been to a party before and we told Carla we'd be there. Please?"

"Okay, here's the thing." Dipper turned around and pointed his pasta spoon at them, pajama pants and a threadbare sweater on. It was silly. It had a puppy on it. "Grenda throws these parties once a month for all the teens in town, and because everyone's kids are there, all the townsfolk treat it as a social event. It's loud, annoying, and seriously not worth your time."

"But we could be party rocking in the house tonight." Ford said it with all the sincerity in his soul and Stan wanted to know how his nerd of a brother had found out about songs that weren't from the 1700s or whenever.

"What?" Dipper's face scrunched before he shook it off and went back to mixing pasta sauce and spaghetti. "Let me explain: I don't 'like' or 'trust' most of the people in this town, and the feeling's pretty mutual. Why don't you just have a party here? This is a house, it can- it can 'party rock'."

"Can we invite people?" Ford perked up.

"No."

"Grunkle Dipper!"

Stan hid a snort-laugh as he watched, studying Dipper more so than Ford, head tilted to make sure he didn't miss anything. There had to be a magic word of some sort to get him to agree. He didn't trust the townspeople, hey?

"If you don't like anyone here-" he cut off Ford's rant about the 'psychosocial development of twelve-year-old brains' before it really got going- "then the smartest option is to bring us into town when everyone's gonna be there." Stan shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, playing up the casualness. 

Dipper looked at him with suspicion. "What's your game, kid?"

"That way you can point out who to avoid and who we should keep an eye on so we can recognise them. I mean, we're gonna need to go into town eventually, might as well get it over with."

"... Alright, that's not a bad point." Dipper nodded, brow furrowed. Stan gave him an absolutely angelic smile, well practiced for when mom busted out the camera for family photos, and Dipper's brows furrowed harder.

"So can we go? Carla invited us as well, it would look bad if we went back on our word. And you said you wanted us to have a good summer."

"Okay, okay, okay." Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, serving up three plates of spaghetti as he joined them at the table. "You can go, but if Sheriff Grenda asks about me, tell her I'm dead or whatever."

"Yes!" Stan punched the air. "Yes!"

"What?! How is that the conclusion of this?" Ford looked stunned, mouth hanging open.

"Your brother drives a hard bargain, kid," Dipper pointed with a plastic spork. All his cutlery was plastic and Stan thought it was weird, no metal, no forks. But  it was the durable, colourful kind used for camping. "Eat your pasta and we'll get this over with."

Stan shoveled the pasta into his mouth, enjoying the taste of victory. Whaddaya know, for once Stan got them the win. That was never gonna happen again.

#

Ford's excitement only grew as they drove into town, staring out the window and trying to see anomalies in the dark. Stan kicked the back of the empty passenger seat and tossed his head back with a groan. "Why are we listening to BABBA?" 

"Because I love this song." Grunkle Dipper turned it up a notch and sang along, badly. Ford winced at the falsetto of "Dis-co Girl! Coming through! That girl is you!"

"Get me outta here!" Stan's next kick used both feet. "If you're listening, save me, Paul Bunyan!"

"Calm down, Stanley, we're almost there!" Ford could see all the cars parked outside the high school, and a giant RV with GIDEON across the side that towered over everything else. "What's that?"

"First people in this town you need to avoid: Gideon Gleeful and his lil b-" Dipper growled, cutting himself off before continuing- "Bud Gleeful. Gideon's the worst, they're just a creepy pair. Just got back from touring America with their fake psychic act."

"Okay." A fake psychic. Just like their mom. Ford missed her, she promised she'd call every week but it didn't feel like enough. "Anyone else?"

"Preston Northwest is about your age and a piece of work?" 

"I thought you'd have more enemies." Stan grinned mischievously.

"Those are just the child ones." Dipper hooked an elbow over his seat and looked back as he reversed into a parking space, wearing one of the baseball caps from the gift shop with a pine tree logo. His denim jacket and pajama pants clashed terribly with his 'dog playing basketball' sweater. Ford hadn't seen him wear the same sweater twice, but they all looked decades old, handknitted, and far too irrational for him. Perhaps he had some ancient sweater collection?

"How many adult enemies are there?" Stan unclipped his seatbelt as the truck stopped. 

"Don't you have a party to go to?" Dipper waved a hand at them. "Have fun and don't die or something. I'll be here when you want to leave."

"Thanks, Grunkle Dipper!" They chorused and hopped out, Stan racing around to Ford's side of the truck. 

"You ready?" He took Ford's hand for a second, and Ford snatched it back, trying not to think about his hands. It was gonna be fine, this wasn't Jersey. People here would like him. 

"Race you in?" He offered instead, shoving his hands into his pockets just in case. 

"You're on." Stan grinned and took off. He might have been better at punching, but they were both pretty fast from a childhood of dodging bullies. Usually it was a tie. 

This time Ford got there first by mere seconds and paused, able to feel the thud of the music inside in his ribcage. Of course- soundwaves were physical, that only made sense. He was about to lift his hand from his pocket before hesitating. His first party. Did he want to start off with a bad impression?

Stan caught up and pushed open the door. "After you, Sixer."

Ford smiled gratefully at him, stepping in as the smell of dry ice and cheese flavouring hit him. The gym was big, all the bleachers tucked away, and while there was no disco ball, someone had set up projector lights that sent rainbow shapes and lazers everywhere. The room was surprisingly full, and Ford had a sinking feeling they arrived late. "Were we meant to be here earlier?"

"Don't worry- it's cool to arrive late, I heard." Stanley stuck by his side as they stood in the doorway. "Should we find Carla? She's the only person we know here, I think."

Ford had a thought. A bit of a mean thought. Did he want his first impression on people to be Stanley as well? Not that Stanley was bad, Ford loved his brother more than anything, but his nicknames might give people the wrong idea, and the other way around- Maybe Stan would want to meet people without having to talk for Ford as well?

"We can split up, do a sweep on each side, and meet on the other end of the gym." He felt guilty saying it, but he couldn't help being interested in what would happen if he made introductions on his own for once. It was an experiment. 

"See who spots her first so we can talk to her, good idea." Stanley nodded. "Race you there."

He took off through the crowd to the right, leaving Ford to his own business and taking the other. He didn't move as fast as Stanley, keeping his hands in his pockets as he avoided the major crowd and skirted the edges. His head swivelled like an owl's as he looked around, trying to see anyone who might be safe to talk to. 

He saw something sparking near the wall and immediately remembered the various dangers of electrical hazards, resolving to check it and report it to the nearest grown-up- oh, but if that was Sheriff Grenda, Grunkle Dipper said not to talk to her-

Ford didn't really want to do what Dipper said, but… what if he got angry at them for disobeying?

More sparks. He blinked, regaining his focus, and sped up, noticing they were tucked beside the folded bleachers, hard for people in the crowd to see, hidden by the fog of dry ice. 

There was someone there. Two someones. Ford drew closer, in time to see a blowtorch light up and be lowered to a piece of metal. 

"What are you doing?" He blurted out, the two teenagers looking at him. It was hard to make out clear details in the dark hall, but the one leaning against the wall held a plastic bag of sliced bread, and the boy on the floor had a welding visor over his face. 

"Hi there!" The boy stood and flipped his welding mask up, revealing round glasses, a thin face, a long nose, and a friendly smile. "I'm Fiddleford McGucket, local inventor."

"You're an inventor?" Ford smiled. "Me too! I mean- I'm branching out into the field, I'm currently working on a magnet gun."

"Well that sounds mathematically feasible, I reckon." Fiddleford offered a hand to shake, absolutely covered in bandages.

Ford stared at it. "Uh- won't that hurt if I touch it?"

"I've got an un-nat-ur-al-ly high tolerance to pain, doctors say," he laughed, singsonging each syllable in a playful Tennessee twang. "Don't mind the bandages, all from my thingamajig building."

Ford hesitated just a moment longer before he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook Fiddleford's hand.

"Why, that is a mighty fine case of polydactyly you got there." Fiddleford complimented. 

"Th- thanks." He stuttered, in utter shock. No one had ever actually complimented him on it before. Most people didn't even know the term. "You too- I mean- not polydactyly, just thanks?" 

"Thank you kindly, and this here's my friend, Tad."

"Hi, I'm Tad Strange." The deepness of the other boy's voice had Ford reeling. Was that natural? He looked barely older than Ford, with shiny black hair and very neat clothes. He had to be the most nondescript person Ford had ever seen. "Would you like some bread?"

"Uh- okay?" Ford took some of the offered bread. Plain white sliced, from a grocery store. Was he meant to eat this without anything on it? Well- okay, he could try. "Do you carry this everywhere?"

"Of course. It's my emergency bread."

"Oh. Cool?" It didn't seem normal, but maybe it was for Gravity Falls? His hypothesis was correct, he was an anomaly in a town of anomalies! He could fit in here! "I like your voice."

"Thank you." Tad smiled. Ford liked his diction, how deliberately he spoke, how even his voice was. It seemed so calm. "It broke when Tad Strange was seven."

"If we're talking about weird body things, I'm double-jointed?" Fiddleford offered and pulled out a pair of black goggles, a matching pair to the ones Tad had pushed up into his dark hair, hard to see. "Here, put these on, I'm working on improving Tad's phone. I reckon I can really spruce it up."

"Tad Strange would like jetpack capabilities." 

"Yeah! I'd love to help!" Ford's smile was so wide it hurt at the edges, so excited he feared he may explode. Not that it was scientifically possible. 

Was this how easy making friends could be? 

#

Stan plunged into the crowd like a superhero charged through henchmen, keeping his head cocked in case he heard Ford get in trouble. He had to be always ready for bullies, Ford could have all the hope he wanted, as long as Stanley protected him. 

He squinted through the dark, not able to see too much in the weird party lights, lots of pinks and blues and kinda dark. He didn't really like his glasses much when he had to wear them, they were nerdy and made bullies throw stuff at him. He could see most things anyway, just blurry, and as long as he could get the gist he could work with the rest. 'Sides, no point in him having glasses anymore, amount of fights he got in.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he swung without thinking, catching air. Carla's laugh was bright and cheery. "Easy, tiger! Didn't mean to surprise you."

"Sorry." Stan mumbled. He wasn't as noble as some of the boys back home, who didn't hit girls. Seemed insulting to Stan, if they wanted to fight they should get to fight. But Carla wasn't like the girls back home, he didn't want to hit her. 

"C'mon, my friends are this way." Carla took his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Her hand was warm around his, and she didn't even hesitate. Known him four days and still took his hand. Wow, she was nice.

She pulled him to the snacks table, piled high with chips and chocolates and one very big lady in a cop uniform serving punch. Carla let go of his hand and spun around to face him, her skirt twirling as the lazers made the sequin design on it sparkle, and Stan suddenly got why Shermie used to get so weird around girls. Holy Moses.

"Stanley Pines, meet my besties!" Carla gestured at the group. One girl was spinning in place with an eye closed, two boys were having a string cheese war that looked more like flirting than fighting, the other girl was filming, and the last boy was cheering everyone on. "That's Shandra, Susan, Daryl and Edwin, and Tyler! Everyone, this is Stan!"

"Hi." Stan nodded at them, getting a nod back from the girls and Tyler. 

"And- wait, where's your brother?" Carla looked worriedly at him. "Didn't he come?"

"Course he did! Just went to scope out some of the party," Stan played it off, even as he looked around. What if Ford was already getting picked on? "He'll catch up."

"Okay, cool!" Carla looked up over the crowd and brightened. Didn't seem possible but she managed it. "There's Bud! Hold on, I'll get him." She dove into the crowd again, leaving Stan with her friends and no idea what to do.

He grabbed a random bar of candy to eat to avoid having to make conversation, shoving it all in his mouth in one go. He accidentally made eye contact with the cop and looked away too fast. That was probably suspicious. What was it Grunkle Dipper said? Don't speak English to cops?

Carla came back to the group with a wave, her hand entwined with another boy's. "Okay everyone! I need to introduce you all to my new boyfriend, Bud Gleeful!"

Stan was real dumb. Shoulda seen that coming, obviously Carla had a boyfriend. Little weird that it was one of Grunkle Dipper's enemies, but it was Stan's own fault that he got all weird just because the prettiest, nicest girl he ever met thought he was worth being kind to. No point being disappointed because he got stupid. 

"What a delight to meet you all," Bud smiled cheerfully, his brown roots visibly showing through white hair dye. Stan turned his back and started eating more candy.

The other teens offered a chorus of uninterested 'hi's, still focused on their cheese fight. Looked like Blubs was winning, if the goal was to spray as much cheese as possible in his mouth? 

Stan was starting to get why Grunkle Dipper didn't bother with the town, he was not impressed so far. Except by Carla, but she worked in the Mystery Shack so she didn't count. 

"And who might you be, lil fella?" Bud drawled from behind Stan, which had his hackles up and his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Bud was twice his size, but so was Crampelter, and Stan had won that last fight. He wasn't weak and useless anymore, he wasn't the wimp that cried after just one hit, not now that he could fight.

He turned around, feet shifting into the stance from his boxing lessons as he looked up at the bigger teenager. "I'm Stan. Who wants to know?"

"Why, just 'lil ol me'-" he spoke it like a quote- "it's merely just- well, small towns, I tend to know near-everyone. But I don't recall seeing you here before."

"He and his twin are Dipper's nephews and they're in town for the summer," Carla smiled, clinging to Bud's arm. "They're here all the way from New Jersey, how cool is that?"

The other teens looked a bit more interested hearing that, looking at him like he was an oddity, something to gawk at. Was this how Ford felt? All the time? 

"Yeah, what about it?" 

"That's quite a distance," Bud whistled. "Would I be right in assuming you're staying in that old shack in the woods?"

"Where else would I stay, smart guy?" Stan mouthed off, focus narrowing to who else might be coming in for a sneak attack. Crampelter had friends, maybe Bud did too. "My Grunkle lives there."

"Yes, a so-called man of mystery," Bud clicked his tongue. "He's quite a shameless fraud, wouldn't you agree?"

"Coming from someone who's dad is a fake psychic?" Stan aimed for what would hurt, because it hurt when he thought about it. "What a liar, bet you can't trust anything he says."

Everyone gasped. But they didn't know. He loved his mom so much, so much , but she lied so much, just because, even when there was no reason. She didn't mean any harm, but… 

"Hey now, that's not true!" Bud snapped, getting angry, and Stan regretted saying anything when he saw the look on Carla's face. She looked at him like he said something bad. He did say something bad. He was a bad kid, everyone knew it. 

What was he doing? He was ruining the party, he was making everyone upset, and Ford wasn't here, Stan needed him and he wasn't here, and why did he instantly make it a fight? Because Dipper said not to trust someone?  What was wrong with him?!

He had to get out of here. He pulled a smoke bomb from his pocket and hoped and prayed he got it right- got something right- and threw it at the ground. 

It shattered with a flash and a POP! and sent up a cloud of smoke and sparkles that had everyone coughing, and Stan bolted. 

He ran, sticking to the walls and the shadows, passing a supply closet as he looked for Ford. Where was his brother? 

He was rounding the bleachers when he heard Ford laughing. At what? He slowed his steps, peeking around the corner to see Ford holding a blowtorch and soldering something, laughing and talking with two other boys. He looked like he was having a great time. Without Stanley.

Stan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, fists clenched tight and shaking with that energy he got in fights. Ford had some sciency name for it that Stan couldn't remember right now. 

Ford was fine. He found people who liked him. Just like he wanted. Stan was tempted to go over there and say hi- but if Ford wanted that wouldn't he have come and got Stanley? Ford always wanted to show off cool things he found, he dragged Stanley all over Glass Shard Beach, so this must mean Ford didn't want to show off his new friends. 

Stanley could take a hint. Heck- Ford would probably be better off with friends who were smart like him. Stan just caused trouble, everyone knew it. 

He backed away, genuinely considering sneaking out to go sit with Grunkle Dipper. Even if that meant listening to girly pop music. 

Actually-

Nah. Still not desperate enough for that. He still wasn't sure if Grunkle Dipper even wanted them around, Shermie had been the one to push for the trip. Even brought the bus tickets. 

Everyone else kept making decisions and Stan kept having to deal with them. He scowled and found the supply closet again, because at least Carla and Bud wouldn't find him in here if they wanted to get mad at him for causing problems. 

He closed the door behind him and shoved over the nearest thing, sending janitor supplies clattering to the ground as he yelled, just to get the energy out. "I never even wanted to come here! Ford did, not me!" 

He turned and punched the drywall. "I hate stupid parties!"

The drywall cracked. Cracked more. Fell away to reveal a big boxy safe hidden behind the plaster, rusted and covered in dust and cobwebs. Stan had a suddenly cold feeling, a looming sense that he'd done something very stupid. 

A girl's voice whispered in his ear.

"Me too."

#

The screaming started as Dipper chewed a pen, brainstorming new attractions for the track. He caught the smell of ectoplasm in the air, able to recognise it instantly, and shoved open the door to his truck, sprinting towards the gym as a pale glow began to surround the building. 

He could hear the panic of the townsfolk,  his focus set on the door as he raced the ghostly energy, trying to get in before it cut off the gym from the outside world. The boys were still in there.

"No, no, no, no-!" The ectoplasm covered the door right as he reached it, the handle chilling his fingers as he failed to yank it open. He kept trying to jiggle it open before he switched to banging his fists against the glass. "Kids!"

"My lil Buddy-boy!" He heard from behind him, Gideon Gleeful running in his bedazzled suit, his white pompadour bouncing with each step of his wingtip shoes.  Dipper ignored him and braced his shoulder against the door, trying to shove it open. Now wasn't the time to start fighting his nemesis. Maybe? He could multitask.

"Hold on, son!" Gideon panicked before turning to the crowd, hand on his bolo tie. "Everyone, please! I need you all to step back and let me use my psychic abilities! Step back, everyone!"

Dipper felt himself step back before he could snap at Gideon to back off, watching Gideon raise his hand to the building.

"Spirit! I compel thee! Release our children and be banished from this place!" Gideon's voice boomed out bombastically, bringing his TV psychic bravado to the real world.

Nothing happened.

Obviously.

"Oh no! Something's blocking my powers! My innate abilities! That I definitely have!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dipper snarled and pulled a glove from his pocket, yanking it on as he stomped to the door. "Hey, ghost! Open up!" 

He drew back his fist and punched the door, the ectoplasmic coating jiggling like jello before it started to wobble faster, energy building up. Bad sign.

Dipper had enough time to swear for real before the ghost blasted him away from the building and into darkness.

#

One minute Ford was helping solder an ignition wire, the next the walls were glowing and tables and chairs were floating in the air. Snacks were flying, aimed at people's heads as screams filled the air, and Tad had to struggle to hold onto his bread as it threatened to fly away too. 

"What's happening?" Fiddleford clutched his hands together, rubbing at his spindly fingers. The rest of the party were freaking out, some rushing the doors, others trying to hide, some freezing in fear. 

Ford? Ford felt alive . This was it, the weirdness he knew was here. 

"Hold on, I may have an answer-" but the diary was so uncool-looking, what if his new friends didn't want to be his friends because of it? 

"Ford!" That was Stanley! "Ford, Ford, Ford!"

"Over here!" He responded without hesitation, because that was his brother calling and Ford would always answer. 

Stan rounded the bleachers and skidded to a stop, worn sneakers nearly losing traction on the smooth gym floors. His eyes were wide and he almost looked scared. Couldn't be true though, Ford had documented Stan's phobias and fear responses. Paranormal activity wasn't meant to register. "It's bad! It's really bad!"

"Wait-" Ford adjusted his glasses. "Stanley, did you do this?"

"I didn't plan on it, Sixer!" Stan flipped a switch into anger, shoulders hunched defensively. "I think it's a girl! I heard a voice!"

"A voice? So not only is this clearly paranormal activity of some form, but it's aware enough to manifest vocals and self-identify? Fascinating!"

"Uh, Ford? Who's this?" Fiddleford tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh!" He'd completely forgotten they were there, so caught up in the supernatural. "Fiddleford, Tad, this is my twin brother, Stanley. Stanley, these are my friends, Fiddleford and Tad."

"Hi. I'm Tad Strange. I like bread."

"Yeah, great to meetcha, the nerd book , Ford, what does it say ?" Stan made a swipe for Ford's jacket, where he knew the book was. 

Ford backed up. "I don't- I haven't looked yet!"

"Why not?!"

"Because-" laughter, vicious and dark, rang out around the room, and Stan whirled, hand out like he was protecting Ford and his friends. Ford stared as Carla lifted into the centre of the room, her eyes glowing white from within and her arms outstretched.

She spoke with a voice that wasn't hers. "Sixty years I've watched you all party! Now tonight will be your last!"

"Hey!" Sheriff Grenda stomped forward and pointed at her. "You're under arrest for possession! Get outta that teenager!"

"Adults," the ghost scoffed, crossing Carla's arms. "You threw this party? Then I'll throw you!"

Carla pointed as Grenda was enveloped in pale light before she seemed to- rip apart? But it looked wet? But there was also no blood or anything, her matter was just rearranged? That was so cool! Oh- and bad too, right.

"Sheriff!" 

"Where did she go?"

"It turned her into a disco ball!"

It had. Ford had never seen a disco ball with a face before. He wanted to take so many notes.

"Back behind the bleachers, c'mon!" Fiddleford dragged both the twins to the corner he and Tad were hiding in, sitting them down as they hid in the shadows. It wasn't much of a hiding spot, but the panicking crowd likely drew more attention. 

"Poindexter!" Stanley grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You gotta focus! How do we stop this?"

"Okay." He pulled out the diary and started flipping through, face burning. He hoped Fiddleford and Tad didn't laugh at the sparkliness of it. "Ghosts, ghosts, I know I saw something- here!"

He cleared his throat and began reading the sticker-covered page, googly eyes pasted onto a drawing of a happy ghost.

"Dear diary,

I fought a ghost today! It was crazy! He was really cute, definitely dreamy, but he was also a major meanie who wanted to destroy town, so dateability: questionable. 

Good thing I saw some of her ghost hunting tapes, otherwise I wouldn't have kicked ghostly butt! I bet this one would have counted as a Category 5, so kind of a ghost wimp. Lemme list the categories before I forget! Womp womp!"

Ford scanned through the categories before he found it. "This must be it! 'Category 8: Haunted Buildings- these ghosts are stuck in one place and make reality go all whoa! But they can't actually hurt people permanently and you can totally work things out with them by talking about their feelings, awwwwww' and then there's a heart drawn in? And people hugging?"

"We're all gonna die," Stan decided. 

"Stan, you have to tell me how this happened. Maybe there's a clue there."

"I just hit a wall." Stan shrugged, looking away. "Same as always."

"Perhaps we should ask the ghost what it wants?" Tad offered as a solution, looking abnormally calm while Fiddleford was having a silent freak out next to him, rocking back and forth and carding his hands through his hair. Ford felt a bit bad to see him so nervous, he must not have encountered an anomaly before. 

"I think it's pretty easy to tell what the ghost wants, Strange." Stan snarked.

"I WILL DESTROY ALL THE PARTY SPIRIT THAT HAS EVER EXISTED!"

"Yeah, that bit's obvious," Ford agreed. "It says that Category 8s aren't unreasonable, so maybe we can convince it to leave everyone alone?"

"We have to get it out of Carla," Stan agreed and took Ford's hand. Ford blinked at him in surprise. Stan must have really been scared, they hadn't held hands in a while. His fingers were trembling. 

Ford didn't let go this time. Not if Stanley needed it. He squeezed his twin's hand and pulled them both out of hiding, the room nearly empty from everyone being turned into party favours and posters and stuff. Carla's body floated, items swirling around her like a tornado, her flower missing from her hair. 

"Hey, ghost!" Ford yelled as he and Stan stepped up. "We wanna talk!"

"Oh?" Carla's body raised a hand and they were both floating. Ford felt Stanley's hand go tight in a death grip, hard enough to hurt. His fear of heights, Ford had to do something. The ghost continued, making Carla's face angry in a way that didn't look right. "What do you possibly have to say? Here to defend parties like everyone else?"

"I- we wanted to ask why you're unhappy!" Ford blurted out. "We want to try fix it!"

"How can you fix it? You were invited to this party like everyone else, I bet you've been to lots of them, everyone has! Everyone but me!"

"No we haven't!" Ford tried to convince her. "Tell her, Stanley!"

"I-" Stan's eyes were scrunched shut, face pale and sweaty. "We haven't! Look at us, we're losers! Who'd invite us anywhere?!"

Everything in the gym stopped spinning. Then it all crashed to the ground, Stan and Ford included. Stan immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the floor, while Ford landed a little steadier. He placed a hand on Stanley's back and looked up at Carla, or, more accurately, at the ghost that had appeared, holding Carla up by the shoulders.

She looked like a normal teenager in retro clothes, just with thick glasses like Ford. 

"You're losers like me? But you don't look like it!"

Ford held up his hand and wiggled his six fingers. "I'm definitely a loser. And my brother…"  they both looked at Stanley, currently muttering 'sweet Moses, I love you ground'. 

"But if you're losers, then why are you at a party?" She scowled and adjusted her glasses. "Especially when one of you hates them."

"Huh?" Ford looked at Stanley, feeling betrayed. Stanley didn't like parties? But he was the one who convinced Grunkle Dipper, and said they'd been to lots to Carla, and-

And, Ford suddenly remembered, dodged the question about wanting to go in the first place.

"Stanley?"

Stanley looked away and swiped his nose with his wrist brace. "Whatever. So what if I do?" He pointed at the ghost. "Why do you hate them?"

The ghost gave a very big sigh and Ford braced for backstory. "No one in this town ever invited me to anything."

"Even all of the parties that were meant for everyone, I would get an anti-invitation. An unvitation ." The ghost floated just above the ground, looking sad.  "So one day, I decided that I would ignore my unvitation and go to a party meant for everyone."

She tilted her head. "Unfortunately, that party was to celebrate Gravity Falls' Annual Heavy Object Tossing Competition, and a safe landed right on me."

"That can not be a real thing-"

"It's real!" Sheriff Grenda, in disco ball form, yelled out. "I've won it eight years in a row!"

"Okay…?" Ford shook his head, resolving to ignore that. "So you've been here ever since?"

"Yes. I've watched people party for sixty years here!" The ghost began to turn red and catch fire. "And still! No invitations!"

"What if we invited you?" Ford offered.

"Or Carla!" Stan blurted out. "Carla over there, you just possessed her. She's super nice and will invite anyone. She invited us, for cryin' out loud."

"Oh. Okay." The ghost floated over to Carla, sitting on the floor staring blankly into the middle distance, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hi Carla! Can I come to this party?"

"Uh…" Carla looked over at them, frazzled and ruffled. Ford nodded as hard as he could while Stan gave her very emphatic thumbs up. Carla looked back to the ghost. "Sure...?"

"Great!" The ghost snapped her fingers and everything went right back to normal. People turned back into people, Grenda was no longer a disco ball, and the music started up again. "I've always wanted to go to a party! Whoo-hoo!"

"Can I ask you a million questions about being a ghost?!" Ford asked now that the danger was gone, pulling out a spare notepad and pencil, not noticing Stan walk off.

#

Stan picked up Carla's plastic flower and held it out to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure?" Carla accepted the flower, putting it in her hair. "I think my whole worldview just changed."

"Yep." Stan hesitated, fidgeting with his wrist brace. "I'm sorry I said mean things to Bud."

"Oh. Well- thanks, but I think you need to apologise to him, okay?" Carla smiled at him and stood up, brushing off her skirt.

Stan nodded and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "I will."

"Thanks. You're a good kid, Stan." She patted his shoulder. "And for the record: I don't think you're a loser, you or your brother. Jersey doesn't know what they got."

"Kay." Stan agreed because how was he meant to argue that? Not when Carla was smiling at him like she believed it, like she wasn't so cool. "Thanks, Carla."

"Carla!" Bud shoved through the crowd, flowery shirt looking a bit rumpled. "Are you alright, dearest-darlingest?"

"I'm fine, really!" Carla beamed, taking Bud's hands. "Stan and Ford saved me."

"I can see that." Bud shot Stan a filthy look. 

"Hey, Bud." Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, having to drag the words out of himself. He didn't like apologising much. Usually it didn't help things. 

"Can I help you, Stanley?" He made it sound utterly frigid. 

"Sorry for what I said about your dad and stuff. It was mean." Stan looked away, looking at Ford, who was introducing the ghost to Strange and McGucket. At least he was having fun. 

"I… suppose I'm also sorry about what I said about your great uncle. It was uncalled for." Bud tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Perhaps we should call a truce?"

"Sure. Truce." Stan stuck out his hand, too late realising it was his braced hand. 

Bud took it, squeezing way too hard and making the bones hurt. Stan didn't flinch and dug his nails in as an answer. 'Truce'. Sure. When Carla was around, at least.

"Yay!" Carla did a happy dance. "The power of friendship wins again!"

They both put on a smile for her, immediately shooting daggers at the other the moment she wasn't looking. Looked like they'd be hating each other in secret. Stan could live with that.

"I'm gonna go check on my brother." Stan yanked his hand back and walked off, already sick of Bud Gleeful. He was joining his Grunkle's rivalry on the side of his Grunkle. 

#

They found their Grunkle Dipper snoring in the back of his pick-up truck, having one of those old people naps he usually had in his armchair. Ford poked his face with a pencil, not expecting him to bolt upright and immediately fall out of the truck with a surprisingly girly scream.

"Augh! Dipper down! Dipper down!"

"Grunkle Dipper, we met a ghost!" Surely he saw the building glow, right? He'd believe Ford now!

"Huh?" Dipper rubbed his head, accidentally showing off the birthmark on his forehead of the Big Dipper constellation. He picked up his cap and set it down, blinking blearily up at Stan and Ford. "You what a what?"

"Met a ghost. Fought her, invited her to a party, whole shebang," Stan yawned. "Can we go home now?"

"I made friends!" Ford already had so many plans. "Can they come over for a sleepover tomorrow? They already called their parents and asked!"

"Sure and sure?" Dipper dusted off his pajamas, surprisingly dirty for a nap in his truck, and Ford noticed something.

"What's that glove?"

"Glove?" Dipper looked down before he noticed the blue glove on his right hand. He made a weird face before he pulled it off. "Uh, it's a- a compression glove? Yep! That thing! For my old man arthritis. Flares up sometimes. 'Cause I'm old."

"Aren't you fifty-seven?"

"I'm whatever age a senior's discount at the movies is," Dipper snarked, and Ford scowled. That felt sorta illegal. Definitely unethical.

"I like your moxie, Grunkle Dip," Stan complimented as he clambered out of the back of the truck. "So did you see any of that?"

"Any of what? I've been sleeping." Dipper blinked innocently.

"Oh, come on!" Now Ford really had to find proof of the supernatural. Time to build a gnome trap.

He reached for Stanley's hand again, resolving to talk to him later about stuff. Stanley squeezed his hand back, smiling at him before he yawned again. 

Ford yawned in response. Okay. Tomorrow. They'd talk tomorrow. Stanley shouldn't have to feel like he needed to hide things, not from his brother. 

Mystery twins forever, after all.

[jelzorz]

Oh boy oh boy if you're taking ficlet requests, how about Opeli making sure Soren doesn't collapse of exhaustion while he's supervising rescue efforts and providing aid in the aftermath of Sol Regem's attack?

193.

It's all kind of a blur afterwards. Soren chalks it up to being exhausted from, well, everything, but it's not like there's been time to rest between it all anyway. There are too many wounded, too many dead, too few supplies to share between the too many refugees, and he has enough to deal with without the grief creeping along the edges of his mind, waiting for him to feel it and to process it on top of everything else. The physical labour is hard, but he's used to that. The emotional labour...

Well. It can wait.

So he heads out to the castle ruins with different groups of soldiers and volunteers to salvage what little they can. He moves rubble and bodies and supplies, helps pitch tents and herd children, tends to the wounded with the limited training he has. He's worn thin and he knows this. He hasn't slept for more than a couple of hours since the attack and he knows this too. He knows because Opeli keeps telling him to rest and Corvus keeps telling him to sleep and they're just as tired as he is, but neither of them stop, so why should he?

It's been a week. A little more he thinks, but he doesn't really know because the days have started to bleed to into each other and the rise and fall of the sun doesn't really mean anything in light of everything that's going on. He knows that the others had all come back the morning after the attack, and he knows Ezran had given the order to move everyone to the Banther Lodge after a couple of nights at the temples, but beyond that, all Soren knows is the ache in his muscles and the precarious uneven rhythm of his next step, and the one after, and the one after that.

He's sitting by the fire tonight. There's a pile of damaged armour beside him that he doesn't really know how to repair but the blacksmith didn't make it and the Banther Lodge works, but they're still sitting ducks out here. Damaged armour won't do them any favours. There's no room to lose anybody else. He's fixing the leather in a bracer when they find him, Corvus and Opeli, both tired, both weary, both obviously concerned.

"'Sup," greets Soren absently.

Corvus and Opeli glance at each other.

"We've been ordered to rest," says Corvus.

Soren snorts. "How's that going for you?"

Opeli twitches her lips. "I can't refuse an order from the king," she says drily, "but more importantly, neither can you."

Soren pauses in his work and raises an eyebrow.

"You need to rest," says Corvus, taking the bracer from him and shoving the pile of armour over with his foot. He takes a seat next to him without waiting for an invitation and Opeli does the same on his other side, already frowning at the bandage she'd placed over the cut on his forehead.

"You've split your stitches again," she says, her disapproval obvious.

"I'm fine," mutters Soren. He tries to snatch the bracer back but Corvus holds it purposefully out of reach.

"You need to rest," says Corvus again, tossing it back into the pile and kicking the whole stack of it further away. "We all do," he adds pointedly to Opeli, who wrinkles her nose petulantly and draws her knees to her chest.

"I'm not arguing," she mutters. "But whether or not we do relies on Soren, doesn't it?"

Soren stares at them both. Corvus actually smirks.

"We made a deal with Ezran," he says somewhat smugly. "I don't need a break—"

"Yes you do," snorts Opeli.

"But I wouldn't take one unless Opeli took one—"

"And I won't take one unless you do." Opeli gives him a look then, her usual stern-faced glare laced with something stubborn and a little sour, but something hopeful too: an opportunity to rest mandated by someone else that she won't feel guilty for taking. "So whether or not we get to take a break is up to you, really," she says.

Soren pauses. Then he scowls at them both. "That's a dirty trick."

"It's pretty fair actually," says Corvus, stretching out beside him. "You need to rest, Soren. If not for yourself, then for the people who care about you."

"And you do have people who care about you," says Opeli. "You must know that."

There's another pause. Corvus leans into him on one side and, hesitantly, Opeli does the same on the other, their warmth a comfort against the evening cold, their weight a ward against the feelings he isn't quite ready to feel.

He doesn't remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, it's dawn. The morning is quiet. The fire is out. Corvus has shifted so that his head rests on Soren's shoulder and Opeli has tucked herself under his arm in her sleep. The blanket draped over them is scratchy but warm.

Soren lets himself go back to sleep.

[farmergirldulce]

Farmer Confessions Part 1

Here's a scenario: How would our romanceables react to us, the farmer, confessing our love for them? (,,>ヮ<,,)

Part 1: The Bachelorettes

♡ 𝒜𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

It takes quite a bit to get Adeline alone for you to talk to her because this lady is always so busy

Like?? Girl your budget portfolio can wait LOL

You send her a letter about a "potential project" you wanted to discuss with her and was able to fit yourself in her schedule for that week (okay technically a lie but you had to)

When you get to her office, as soon as she puts out the tea cakes and opens up the manilla folders on her desk you just cut to the chase

"Adeline, I like you! In a more-than-a-friend kind of way!"

She drops her pen, stunned

Her cheeks turn as pink as her hair as she's trying to process what you just said. You? Like her? What did she do to deserve this?

She finally manages to shyly respond, tucking her hair behind her ear:

"Farmer I... I like you as well. Thank you so much for telling me."

She also insists she won't let work get in the way of her relationship with you and she'll always make time for you. You also always offer to help her with work so you two can spend more free time together.

(btw she was lowkey pouting there was never a "project" you wanted to discuss but she forgave you; don't worry lol)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

♡ 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮

You decide to tell her on one of the days she invites you over for tea

You take a few days to gather her favorite flowers to create a beautiful bouquet you hope she'll love

You knock on the door and she opens it to see the bouquet of flowers completely covering your blush adorned face

"Oh my, what's all this? For me? How beautiful~!"

She's floored with the sweet gesture and your nerves dissipate a bit

After she brews the tea and sets it down in front of you, she asks what the occasion is for the bouquet

Ho boy the nerves are coming back

You don't know what you'd do if Celine didn't return your feelings

You manage to croak out your confession, peeking though one eye to see her reaction

Her face is flushed, her index fingers touching each other as she says:

"Hehe... you beat me to it. I invited you over to tell you my feelings for you!"

You both share a sweet embrace, enjoying each others company for the rest of the day

You both become the sweetest couple in Mistria. Everyone wants what you two have!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

♡ 𝓡𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓪

You two are besties so all the more difficult to profess your love without making things awkward

You've been practicing in your head all week on how to tell her without scaring her off as well as praying she returns your feelings

A perfect opportunity lands on your lap when Reina asks for your help taste testing a soup recipe she's been working on

Dressed your cutest, you head to the inn

She looks as prettier as ever when she greets you

Get it together Farmer

As the private tasting session goes on, you give her feedback what you think would be better (a little more pepper, cut back on the acidity, etc) and out of nowhere, before the conversation of culinary consultation can continue she giggles lightly and says:

"Wouldn't it be crazy if we like, started dating? We have so much in common anyways!"

You freeze at what she just says and she gasps, covering her mouth and cheeks turning red

"W-WAIT I meant like hypothetically because we both are good cooks and-"

"Nah, that's not crazy at all. In fact, let's go out!"

You're both shocked at how easy that was and just stand there like dummies, accepting each others feelings

You can feel Josephine and Hemlock behind you two with a thumbs up of approval as you squeeze Reina's hand

You're lucky to have a bestie AND girlfriend in Reina

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

♡ 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃

Yep; you've done it now

You've fallen for the town's doctor

You've tried so hard to put your feelings on the backburner simply because you think she's way over your league and Juniper would never let you live it down once she finds out you were rejected by Valen (oh ho ho ho ho!)

But my god; that doctor is beautiful and you had to tell her you love her or else you'd go mad

As your lovesick thoughts take over on how you'd woo Valen, you forget you're in the mines rn and one of those rock bastards make you trip and smack your head on the mine floor

You shed a tear as you pass out, regretting not being able to tell the hot doc how you feel (rip bozo)

You slowly open your eyes to see Valen over you with a light behind her

"My angel... am I dead?"

But no; you're just at the clinic and Valen is there tending to your injuries

"My, you've had quite the injury. You need to be more careful, (Y/N)."

She tells you you had a concussion and you should stay away from the mines until you're better

After a few hours of monitoring you, she discharges you and lets you go home and write to her if anything

Write? BINGO

You definitely write her, but not to whine about your injuries, but tell her exactly how she makes you feel

After a few days of silence, as you start to worry, she one day pops up on your farm with the letter in her hands, a slight blush on her face

"A love letter, hm? How cute... why don't we chat about what's happening here?"

You don't hesitate to let her inside your house to talk things further

You two will most definitely take things slow, but nonetheless you two will take care of each other and blossom this relationship to something beautiful

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

♡ 𝒥𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓅𝑒𝓇

You almost didn't want to have these feelings for this Mean Girl ₜₘ

But goddammit you wanted the hot witch lady whether you liked it or not

When you receive yet another invite to be her guinea pig you take this as an opportunity to get your feelings out of the way

You reluctantly arrive at the bathhouse to see the lady of your dreams looking as attractive as she ever has

Did she already give you some kind of potion? Under some kind of spell?

After you give the good boi Doozy well-deserved pets, you give yourself up to Juniper as she performs all kinds of experiments

You turn into a variety of things until you're a frog, in which she has trouble changing you back

"I dunno, (Y/N). This is a great look for you! Ohohohoho~!"

Before you get pissed at her, you recall a certain fairy tale and smirk.

"Doesn't a kiss from a beautiful princess turn me back?"

She nearly chokes

"A-A PRINCESS?! How dare-"

You both turn to see Doozy bark and point his paw to a page in the spell book and sure enough, a kiss in fact DOES reverse it

Yep; Doozy the Wingman LOL

She groans and gives in, kissing your froggy head, and you turn back to normal

"There. Satisfied?"

"I dunno~ Maybe the spell didn't work~"

"You little-"

You silence her with a quick peck on the cheek and dart out of the bathhouse, leaving a baffled and blushing mess out of Juniper

Not a confession per-se, but you got her thinking about you and craving more.

Once you finally tell her though, I'm sure she might warm up to you by then

(well maybe lol)

Next: Part 2 with the bachelors!

[hellonerf]

I really like ur stuff because u fulfill my need to see America be gross the way that teenage girls are gross. like 19 yr old girls on discord style degeneracy. Room a fucking mess take out boxes everyone kitty headphones. moe and out of his fucking mind. Landmine girl. Does this make sense

aw thank you so much anon ☺️ this makes me laugh. i've accepted the ame i draw is like teenage girl. really reminiscent of a mentally ill teenage girl. i'm okay with it #encourage. i was gonna put this image as ame to answer here because it'd be funny but i thought it fit cana more lol.

if ame invited you over and the room he was currently in was a total fucking mess he hasn't cleaned up he'd probably just book a hotel or take you to some random apartment room(and claim it's his) or go to the second nearest house he has because he probably has multiple. cana wouldn't be so elaborate in that. i think he'd accept his fate and clean his room the best he could. or just pitifully go with it depending on how much time he has until you go to his house. so now i have two images with both of the na brothers like this. 🤦‍♂️ which makes me come to the conclusion that we should kill them. no it's okay they did their best

anyways happy to fill this niche(?????

[clubpenguinthrowaway-blog]

Garykernal or known as Runin, Module0, Mothnwizard, Blaketwo, or any other possible account is a stalker. There is more under the cut. More parts will be posted, We have to break up all of this into segments. Keep in mind, Gary is 25 through this all. The person who is a victim allowed for at least their age to be stated, that being 19. There is a minor in this situation, but for now this post is about the oldest of the victims.

Green's Story

This user has stalked and harassed a club penguin blog for some time now. Unfortunately, this blog had to be created to warn other users about this person. Green is a victim of Gary's behavior. They did not know Gary very well. Written by them, they said this to me:

"I vaguely knew them, like you pass by this person on Tumblr and like a few posts and I saw them in a discord (they got invited by someone) but after all this they got banned from said discord. They obsessed over me to an unhealthy degree, I kinda just rarely replied to the dms they sent. They only knew me for a week before confessing they were in love with me. I wasn't interested, I was kind in turning them down because I didn't want to date anyone. I was clear in this, though things persisted. Gary would flirt with me, yet I wouldn't fully process it nor did I really want to engage with it. It was clear to everyone around that it was uncomfortable. I was scared to say anything in fear of causing issues. Well, guess that went out the window considering how this went down. They would draw ship art of themself and I. My sona isn't a sona, it's my real physical self. They had an entire whiteboard fox where they drew us kissing and whatnot. Sorry White, I rather not send that to you. They would ask me to send them images and tag it as us when I didn't know them well and sure that isn't a horrible thing to do, though they crossed my boundaries a lot. They had brought up my abusers in a conversation at random while I was already stressed out. I asked them to stop at the time, they did not respect that. I ignored them even more at one point, my friends knew how overwhelmed and scared I was to come out about anything. They were my rock in this time. Yet, I was still functional with what I knew at the time. I thought it was a baseline creepy stalker they couldn't have gotten any worse than this and I'm just pissed they harassed my friend Coral because I blocked Gary and decided I had to cut them off. They were bad for my mental health, they were bad for me. In the screenshots I sent you, it all came down because they decided to look up my old username (which I did not tell them at all so they had to go digging for that) and then dmmd me about it and it felt off. Thank god I cut them off then. From what I learned recently, not only did Gary have a shrine of me, but Gary had drawn porn of them and I. When I learned this, I threw up not only because it was of me when I, in fact, do not like to be sexualized nor would it even be a normal and sane thing to just draw nsfw of a real physical person. That's just gross. I'm not a fucking oc nor am I a character from a media. I'm a real person. Flesh and blood. Yellow and I were mortified, Yellow being my current partner who has known me for years before we started to even date. Yellow had to comfort me when I left my college classroom to go throw up. All of my friends were in my dms trying to comfort me, tell me it was ok, but I feel violated. I don't care if it's stupid that I feel that way, I'm not famous. I'm not someone that should be sexualized. I'm a victim of CSA and SA, this gave me paranoia and a flare up in pstd. I know this is heavy. I hope you're able to speak for the other victims too. Coral I feel bad for, they were harassed by Gary and now a friend of Gary's to let Gary contact me after I blocked them. I'll pass you onto Coral now, after that I think you should talk to the minor who Gary sent nsfw dms to as well. Red I feel most bad for. I know that I'm the main victim of Gary, but dear lord did Red go through shit."

Green stated that they felt bad for how they typed everything out a bit messy. They wanted to get their feelings out so I reassured them it was fine. This is Green's final messages with Gary. After the final message Gary sent, they blocked them.

I asked Green for any final comments on this. "I know that I only have these screenshots to back up my end of things, though Coral has some and Red has a ton. Though if I had to state any last thing to Gary and their system, especially from my system- Yellow and I together in this, fuck off. Delete that gross porn you made of me you vile freak. You're one of three people now I can never forgive in my lifetime. I hope no one has to deal with the shit I did. To your system, if anyone has a shred of sense in it, destroy that shrine to me. Scrub away every single little bit of ship art or nsfw art that Gary made of me. God forbid this, if anyone else drew art of us together I hope they block you. Stay away from me, stay away from my system, and stay away from my friends and my family. I can't forgive you for the trauma you put on me. Maybe someday you'll be a better person, but people who send nsfw messages to minors deserve to burn. I hope Red is able to recover from this like everyone hopes I do."

Thank you Green for letting me post this. I wish the best for you and your recovery.

Coral's story -> Red's story/closing statements

[unproduciblesmackdown]

hey mordecai, why do the savoys call you babygirl..................and send you a special invitation to their hotel room b/c they already Get you so well, where they're like, sure we just met last week but it's like we've known each other all our lives, let's stay together forever. getting down on one knee, with a knife,

[thebluehoursofmorning]

grrwrhadjfsa;

[ame-to-ame]

the thing abt btr is i really wanna see more characterization/ ixn but i don't think anything i write will be able to capture the essence of the source material :(

[severepink]

Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

[ddejavvu]

Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff

You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.

Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.

"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"

"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."

"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."

"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."

You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.

"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."

"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."

"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"

"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."

Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."

"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.

"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."

"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."

"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.

For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.

"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."

"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."

"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

[endzithefangirl]

"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

[rin-may-1103]

Delilah's language (part two)

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"Tomorrow?" Danny repeated, glad he had set his cup down.

Mr. Wayne smiled, relieved Danny hadn't completely brushed him off. "yes, it's tomorrow. Damian, my son, is a huge conservationist. he gets it from his mother."

Danny blinked but before he could cut in, Mr. Wayne continued, "Oh! not that I don't care about the environment and stuff, it's just-"

"I get it," Danny reassured. he did not want to get stuck listening to Mr. Wayne try and fail to 'fix' his self-perceived mistake. "but I still don't really understand why you want me there..."

like sure, the kid's a fan of Danny or whatever (he was still trying to wrap his mind around that one.) but would the kid actually want Danny at his party? wouldn't that be like... he didn't know, weird? to just have this random guy from Illinois show up?

"Right!" Mr. Wayne coughed, scratching his face in embarrassment. "once Damian learned that the purple back gorillas would be in Gotham, I suggested we have his birthday party at the zoo. He told me he wanted to know everything he could about their species. so, I invited all the scientists working with the gorillas to the party so he could talk to them."

Danny nodded in understanding when Mr. Wayne glanced at him, even if Danny thought that that was the most fruitloop way he could have gone about it. then again, Danny's pretty sure all billionaires were fruit loops...

"He started digging into their history once he learned about them, and after some digging, he discovered that you basically saved their species. He has declared that he must meet you at all costs. something about needing to know their language?" Mr. Wayne trailed off, looking at Danny as if to see if he knew what his son meant.

If the kid was looking to Danny so he could learn the language then that meant he read the same paper Danny had. the scientists that had dedicated themselves to studying Delilah had printed one claiming that the purpleback Gorilla language was apparently hard to learn. (Even if Danny had been able to understand it pretty easily and told them so.)

they had listed Danny as the only person fluent in it so far, which now that Danny thought about it was kinda rude. they hadn't asked to put his name in there and now look at him! being visited by Fruitloops looking for him to be at their son's birthday parties.

anyways.

so, if the kid, Damian, read the same paper, he must have concluded it would be easier to learn the language from someone who was already 'fluent' than try and teach himself. (something Danny can't blame the kid for, but still.)

"KIDS!" Dad's voice bellowed from downstairs making Mr. Wayne startle and turn to glance down the hall. "IT WORKS! IT WORKS!"

...

"so, when do we need to leave?" Danny asked, all previous paranoia and reservations thrown out the window.

mr. Wayne slowly turned back, his brows furrowed in confusion. "we, uh, we'd have to leave in," he glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening a little, "an hour. I have to leave in an hour."

mr. Wayne then frowned as he looked back up at Danny, "I just need your parent's permission and you can come with me now, or I can arrange for another flight for you later tonight or early tomorrow?'

danny did not want to find out how they were going to test their new machine, so, he turned and cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted, "HEY MA! CAN I GO WITH MR. WAYNE TO HIS KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY?!"

it was silent for a second before she shouted back, "SURE! JUST BE BACK BEFORE WE LEAVE FOR OUR TRIP!"

oh, right. his parents had a trip planned for their anniversary. something about a huge ghost or demon trap in Wyoming they wanted to investigate.

"YOU'RE LEAVING TOMORROW THOUGH!" Danny shouted back, "DAMIAN'S BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW! I CAN'T GO IF I WANT TO BE BACK IN TIME!"

"OH! UH, THEN JUST BE SAFE! TAKE YOUR BLASTERS WITH YOU!"

Danny blinked, then shrugged. He could do that. turning back he found Mr. Wayne staring at the floor, his brows raised and furrowed in concerned confusion. Danny didn't know someone could make a face like that, but seeing as Mom had finally gotten Mr. Lancer to curse in front of him last year, it wasn't that surprising.

"let me pack my bag and then we can get going," Danny announced, standing up and grabbing his cup from the table, silently offering to take Mr. Wayne's as well. the man handed him his full cup and watched as Danny walked away.

well, at least Danny had already told the other ghosts to leave him alone for the rest of the week. they shouldn't get into too much trouble while he's gone. speaking of trouble, Mr. Wayne lived in Gotham, a place riddled with crime and violence.

dupping the cups into the sink, Danny turned and rushed up the stairs. unplugging his phone, Danny sent Sam and Tucker a text to let them know he wouldn't be in amity for the rest of today and tomorrow. he also let them know he'd keep them updated.

once done with that, Danny turned to his closet and rummaged around until he found his old backpack. pulling it out, he dumped the contents onto his desk and made quick work of packing his essentials. Clothes, phone chargers, and ectoplasm in case of emergencies. Mr. Wayne said he'd pay for the travel fair and hotel expenses, so Danny only needed to worry about food.

glancing in the mirror, Danny finally noticed he was still dressed in his pj's. he took a second to debate whether he really cared enough to get dressed properly or not before shrugging. Mr. Wayne's already seen him in them and they're comfy, no point in changing.

zipping up his bag, Danny tossed it over his shoulder and quickly ran downstairs. Mr. Wayne was walking around the room, studying a few of the leftover project pieces that his parents had left lying around. man, Jazz was going to be so annoyed once she learned they hadn't been picking up after themselves. again.

"Alright, Mr. Wayne. I'm ready when you are." Danny greeted, stepping into the room. the man turned to look at him, a strained smile on his face, "Just Bruce is fine."

"Alright, mr. bruce then." Danny agreed, gesturing for the man to start making his way to the door.

mr. Bruce heaved a sigh, shook his head in resignation, and turned to walk out the door. digging his keys out of his pocket, Danny turned to shout into the house one more time, "BYE MA, DAD! I'M LEAVING! HAVE FUN ON YOUR TRIP!"

not waiting for a response, he closed the door and locked it. turning around, he found Mr. Bruce studying him. lifting his brow in confusion, Danny started making his way down the steps and over to Mr. Bruce's fancy car. why the man had a fancy car when he said he'd be flying Danny didn't know, but he's pretty sure it has something to do with image or something.

Vlad did the same thing after all.

Next

[hedgehog-moss]

I volunteered to help the florist with her Mother's Day deliveries today, it was fun! My favourite parts of the experience:

early this morning I delivered flowers to women who were busy with morning farm chores, usually out in the barn; some had forgotten it was Mother's Day and were pleasantly surprised to see me show up holding a bunch of flowers above my head (so it wouldn't get eaten by barn animals on the way)

speaking of: one woman let a cow smell the flowers, then said "they're probably treated with chemicals—better not have a taste" with an apologetic look (at her cow)

a little boy opened the door at one point and I said, flowers for your mum! and he called her and while waiting for her to come downstairs, he said, "I learnt a Mother's Day poem at school", so I said, let's hear it! And apparently he hadn't expected that, and he lit up upon realising he would get higher returns on his poem investment than expected. He thought he'd recited it once and it was over but here was a fresh new audience!

a woman whom I found at the back of her garden hanging out with ducks deplored the fact that she didn't have a coin in her pocket for a tip, then said "Do you want to see my baby pigeons?" Yes of course I want to see your baby pigeons. That's a good tip

I delivered a bouquet to someone and a woman next door, who was in her garden, turned to the open window of her house and said, "[Neighbour's name] got flowers! For MOTHER'S DAY."

I later had to return to that street after a last-minute order was placed to this woman's address. Whomever she was talking to inside the house got the message loud and clear :)

at one point I entered a barn that seemed empty (except for cows), said "Is anyone here?" and a goat SPRUNG UP out of nowhere and poked me with her hoof and gave me a heart attack

I returned to the shop and the florist let me pick a couple of plants as thanks, and we had the usual conversation—"Would this cheerful yellow plant thrive in my house?" "No. Your house is under 10°C. Try this one instead." Me: "This one isn't yellow :( It's more austere" Her: "So is your house" (She entered my non-heated kitchen in December once, and ever since I've been trying to convince her that it's not always like that) (just six months per year)

as I sat in the shop waiting for more bouquets to deliver, a man came in to buy roses and the florist started wrapping a ribbon around the bunch and the man asked, could you put a ribbon around each rose? I said aw they're for several mums? :) And he said yeah—that he was going to visit his mum at the retirement home and he wanted to get something "for all her friends too, why not!" It made everyone smile

admiring the florist's skill as she quickly put together a bouquet for a new order, I said something like "at least AI won't steal your job" and she said "with quantum computing, you don't know... not sure what it is but I read an article and it sounded scary." I said, I heard it's still impractical because the quantum computer particles need to be kept in very cold environments, like close to absolute zero, and she said "Quantum plants would thrive in your house."

Florist: "I'll accompany you for this delivery because the person who filled the form gave a 'turn left after the third mossy rock'-type of address"

I was invited at her house for lunch, and I asked warily "Does your husband still have swans?" She said "No, we only kept the geese. We have just 3. They're evil too but not as bad as the swans"

one of my favourite interactions was when I delivered flowers in a hamlet that could fit in my pocket, and a young girl who came to the door asked me in what village I lived, and I said, it's not a village, just a lone house in the woods, and she sighed "I wish I could live away from civilisation." I looked around us. Asked, how many people live in this village? She said, "Sixty." I said, "That's too many?" She said, "Yeah."

Final stats for today: I was offered a coffee 4 times, Mother's Day chocolates 2 times, and 1 meeting with baby pigeons; was startled by 1 goat and terrorised by 3 geese; petted 2 windowsill cats, and was asked if Pampérigouste was currently in her pasture 4 times.