#truly i wish i could finish and post things on a regular schedule instead of not posting for 2 months then finishing 80 things in one day

[cuubism]

Joy

Dreamling | T rating | Retired Dream | on emotional repression

I was thinking about a post, which I cannot find alas, about retired Morpheus struggling to deal with the fact that his actions and emotions don't have universe-wide consequences anymore. Like, he's allowed to just feel things now? And as someone who's also been extremely checked out of their own emotions at various points I can tell you the transition is… not easy. Anyways.

--

Morpheus is out when Hob gets home, or so he assumes. When he steps into the hall, the flat has the utterly still quality of total vacancy, no noise or distant movement. For all that Morpheus is a relatively quiet person, generally speaking, Hob has still become attuned to what his presence feels like, or the lack thereof.

Or so he thought.

For when he reaches the kitchen, Morpheus is there, sitting at the kitchen table, completely still. Hob almost doesn't see him, that's how still he is. Back straight, hands folded on the table, looking down at them as if he's meditating, or working out some complicated problem in his head.

Hob quietly sets down his bag and sits across from him. “Hey... love? You okay?”

He almost whispers it so as not to break the silence. Normally Hob would leave him to his devices if he was in the middle of something, but despite the fact that Morpheus is not given to unnecessary movement, the complete stillness sends something uncomfortable creeping up Hob’s spine. Morpheus hadn't even seemed to hear him come in.

With glacial slowness, Morpheus nods.

“It’s just…” Hob continues, biting his lip. “You’re not moving. At all. I almost didn’t think you were breathing.”

“That is the idea,” Morpheus agrees, still looking at his hands.

"Not breathing?"

"Not moving."

"Can I ask why?"

"I am. Preoccupied. With." His fingers flex against each other on the table as if forcing stillness. "Movement within."

Hob doesn't know what that means. "Can you elaborate?"

"I must make it still," Morpheus says. "I have before. I will."

Which clears up nothing. And Hob is getting the increasing sense that something is wrong but he's floundering as to what.

"Will you come sit on the couch with me?" he finally asks. "You look like you're about to snap in half."

"If it will please you," Morpheus says. Like his own pleasure-or-not in this matter is something he'd prefer not to touch.

"It will," Hob says. Morpheus follows him to the couch, moving like– like he did before. That ethereal creature that considered every step like he was crossing a thinly frozen lake.

So that's what it is.

Morpheus sits down beside him, drawing his knees up to his chest in a movement that, Hob is almost relieved to observe, is very much not like before.

Hob drapes the blanket from the back of the couch over his shoulders. Morpheus flinches, but doesn't push it off. "What's going on, hon?"

"It is..." Morpheus admits, slowly, "loud."

Hob frowns. "In your head? I thought you said it's been quieter since–"

"No." Morpheus presses a hand to his sternum. "Here."

Hob touches his chest, carefully, hand resting beside Morpheus's. All he can hear, or rather feel, is Morpheus's heartbeat, still a new and learning thing. "Your heart?"

"Everything. It... resounds. And drives off reason."

"Okay." Hob rubs his hand up and down over his chest, as if that might soothe him. Hob is aware enough of the feeling of overwhelm, and of Morpheus's particular brand of it, now that he has so little to distract him. "Just give it time and it'll pass, love."

Morpheus shakes his head. "That is not–" his lips press into a distressed line. "Duration is. Not the issue. It is. What will be left. After. Detritus."

Hob's own heart clenches. "Your feelings aren't a storm, love."

"Are they not?"

"You aren't going to make storms in the Dreaming, now," Hob says, though he knows Morpheus knows this.

"I speak not of weather, Hob Gadling," Morpheus growls. "I can– raze minds, I can spin balanced consciousness into euphoria, I can twist it all on its head with no effort and I will–" his fingertips dig into his chest, and Hob thinks that if he were still capable of manifesting claws he'd be drawing blood even through his shirt– "I will make it stop. It will be quiet again, I swear it."

"Only thing you're spinning is yourself," Hob says, gently.

And the thing is, he knows Morpheus knows this. Knowledge isn't the issue. It's sort of like how he never quite believes that Hob will never want to die, no matter how many times Hob tells him. I know that, Hob Gadling, he will say, but Hob can never quite get him to feel it.

"I know that, Hob Gadling," he says, again, now. That same tone. How dare you not believe it. How dare.

"Give me your hand," Hob says.

"Hob–"

Hob takes his hand and pulls it to himself, pressing Morpheus's palm flat to his own chest. Morpheus makes as if to pull away, then surrenders.

"Look," Hob says. "It's not hurting me, is it?"

"No," Morpheus admits, reluctantly, still with that tension through his shoulders.

"What about the room? Is everything shaking into pieces? Is it all going haywire? People rioting in the streets?"

Morpheus shakes his head no.

"See?" Hob says, squeezing his hand. "It's alright."

"I want it quiet," Morpheus says. He no longer sounds frustrated. More defeated. "It should not be... here." He touches his breastbone. "Here." His throat. "Here." His head.

"Where's it supposed to be, then?"

"Gone."

Hob sighs. This will not be an easy fix, not at all. He leans in, awkward though the angle is, and kisses Morpheus's chest, his neck, his temple, then stays, leaning against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, love. I know it's not easy. I happen to like you not gone, though, for what it's worth."

"Me?"

"Uh-huh. You. That's you in there, you know, not some brain-eating amoeba."

He gets a tiny huff of an almost-laugh from Morpheus. "Is it?"

"Yup. The part you weren't allowed to see because everything else was so loud." He rubs Morpheus's chest again, where he keeps saying it's hurting.

Morpheus's mouth opens as if to protest, and Hob adds–

"I'm not going to criticize you for it, okay? I promise I'm not."

Hob gets it. Well. He can't get it, actually, he's never been in charge of the entire dreaming world, but he tries.

"I thought you were supposed to go out today?" he says. "Weren't you getting tea with Rose? What happened with that? You were looking forward to it, I thought."

"I was, yes." He says it as if this is bad somehow. "Looking forward to it, that is. Her company is... enjoyable.”

“Okay? That's good, right?"

But Morpheus shakes his head. "It is too much."

"Too much?" Hob asks. "Were you nervous about it?"

Again, Morpheus shakes his head. “Joyful.”

Hob's heart is actually going to break. He knows this is part of why Morpheus left in the first place. And yet it's still tormenting him, which feels criminally unfair. And the worst part is there's no one to really blame, he knows why Morpheus did it, he can't and won't fault him for it when he was put in such a position.

He asks quietly, “So that joy didn't feel good to you?”

Morpheus shakes his head, biting down hard on his lip, and then, to Hob's horror, bursts into tears.

For all that Morpheus is prone to drama and moping, Hob has never actually seen him cry. He hadn't cried when he’d told Hob of his imprisonment, offering only a hint of scorched anger to indicate how he felt about it, the words, I had not realized what it was to be isolated and embodied until then. It was agonizing, said with the even cadence of the moon in orbit instead of the rawness they deserved. Nor had he cried when he'd shown up on Hob's doorstep and, when greeted with a concerned Hey, Dream, are you okay? – because he certainly didn't look it, drenched to the bone and his cloak absent its swirling inner cosmos – answered merely, You should call me Morpheus, I am no longer Dream of the Endless. The closest Hob had ever seen was the glimmer in his eyes when he'd thought Hob no longer wished to live, all the way back in the 1600s, and even then, his tears had not fallen.

“Oh, darling.” Hob pulls him into his arms, rubbing his back. “It’s alright.”

“It does not feel,” Morpheus continues, voice remarkably steady given the tears streaming down his cheeks, “good. It feels loud. And I am not in control, I am subject to these whims and I am no subject, Hob.”

"Those feelings are part of you. Not subjecting.”

“I don’t want it,” Morpheus insists, with the bitter frustration of a former king, used to shaping the world around him as he wishes. “If they are free I do not know what might come out.”

What comes out are parts of you, Hob thinks, but doesn’t express it again. The raw parts that you think are so awful. “Well, if there’s any feeling to try it with, wouldn’t it be joy? Happiness?”

Morpheus huffs. "Do you think that sorrow and rage are the only feelings with the capacity to destroy? Joy can become hysteria, joy can ruin, I have seen it, I have done it, when I was much, much younger and did not understand my abilities. Strong feelings have power, the very Dreaming is crafted of them. It could not exist out of apathy.”

“Neither could you,” Hob points out, and Morpheus just huffs again, shaking his head.

“I thought that if I relinquished my responsibilities, I would no longer have to worry so about everything outside of myself,” Morpheus says. “And how it entangles with me. Only now. It is still there, but I can do nothing to stop it.”

“But listen, darling.” Hob squeezes his hand. “You’re allowed to be tangled up with everything, now. You’re supposed to be.” He twists their fingers together. “I want you tangled up.”

“I will— without access to my realm I will step wrong, and—”

“And you can fix it,” Hob says. “Promise. No rebuilding a whole universe required.”

Morpheus sniffles, and Hob wipes the tears from his cheeks. “You always kept yourself above it all, didn’t you?”

“It is my responsibility to keep the collective unconscious in balance,” Morpheus says. He hasn’t quite stopped talking about his responsibilities in the present tense — Hob thinks it will be a while before he fully internalizes the lack of that weight. “Not to sway it to my feelings. Historically, when I have involved myself, it has… not gone well.”

“It doesn’t always as a human, either,” Hob says, and Morpheus’s frown deepens. “I mean, we’re all just bumping up against each other, you know? But you’re allowed to have space there, even if it doesn’t always go right.”

“If you mean this to be very comforting, I will have to disappoint you,” says Morpheus, but there’s more humor in it now, and he’s stopped crying. He pushes his head into Hob’s shoulder, and Hob wraps his arms around him tighter, holds him close.

“I wish it could all be immediately easy for you,” Hob says. “I’d do anything to make it so.”

“I did not expect this to be easy,” Morpheus says, voice rumbling into Hob’s chest. “But the challenges have repeatedly come from unforeseen directions.”

Hob kisses the side of his head. “I’m glad you’ve stuck with me anyway.”

“You have been very patient with my… meandering attempts at basic humanity.”

“Always will. I love you.”

It’s another thing he’s struggled to get Morpheus to truly accept, that Hob’s care for him was never contingent on any of his abilities or powers. That Hob won’t be scared away no matter his mistakes, because Hob has faced a lot of terrifying things in his life and the worst is the prospect of losing Morpheus entirely.

This time, Morpheus doesn’t reject it. He just hums and lets Hob pet his hair, lets Hob keep him and quiet him towards ease, which Hob intends to do until Morpheus can find it himself, and then after, too.

And several weeks later, when Morpheus comes home from the park with a colored pencil drawing Jed made for him, smiling and holding it to his chest with real joy in his eyes, Hob shines with pride, and the part of his heart that might have broken just a bit listening to Morpheus cry that day heals over again.

#how many goddamn fics is it acceptable to post in one day #this is technically the third #truly i wish i could finish and post things on a regular schedule instead of not posting for 2 months then finishing 80 things in one day #but alas #anyway #this has been lingering for months near finished but unsatisfying. finally scrapped 1000 words of the ending and just redid it #WORKING THROUGH SOME STUFF HERE PERHAPS #dreamling #dreamling fic #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #retired dream #let dream be happy 2kforever

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

#johnny seo scenarios #johnny seo scenario #johnny seo smut #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct smut #lets not talk abt the ending i needed to end this monster

[imagine-lcorp]

My Love, Don’t Stop Burning (One Shot)

Request

can I get uuuuuhhhh...Lena and Reader having been pining for each other for ages, and finally acting on their feelings, but Reader is a secret superhero and has to respond to a threat to National City in the early hours of the morning, leaving Lena to wake up alone thinking Reader regrets what happened or sees it as a one night stand? Angst with a happy ending pls?

A/N: Hi once again my little beans, hope you enjoyed the holidays and everything is well. Now I hope we can get again on a regular schedule of me posting your request but that’s just me hoping, also lol this request did sound like a fast food order, but here you have it :) Kudos to the dear anon that sent this one and I hope you like this!!! Love u!!!

Lena Luthor x Superhero/Metahuman!R // Word Count: 2,511

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

It was late in the morning when Lena finally opened her eyes to the light coming from her bedroom window. She felt warm and relaxed, even happy for what felt like the first time in such a long time. She smiled and turned to see the cause and reason for such a miracle only to find empty space beside her. The side of her bed where you had laid to sleep the night before was now cold with rests of your scent lingering between the wrinkles of her sheets.

She sat upright, pulling them to cover her naked body, and looked around in confusion. There was no sign of you around the room. For a moment she had worried something had happened to you while she slept, because after all that was said and done the night before she couldn't find a reason why you wouldn't be there.

It had been the last game night of the year, and the superfriends had convinced Lena to host it. You had spent quite a few hours playing and drinking and dancing and laughing between turns, and Lena had left herself enjoy every single moment of your company as it was almost rare of you to be around big crowds. She had noticed that from the first time she ever met you.

When you finally starter to really meet each other, Lena realized there was so much she didn't know about you. Your life seemed like a mystery, full of blank spaces she tried to fill with whatever little clues she could gather about you. She knew there had been an accident when you were younger, one that had took most of the things you loved and left you instead marked by tragedy. Which explained most of your personality and your mannerisms. For most people, at first sight, you were a cold person. You remained calm and collected, always in control of your own emotions, as if you didn't want to be bothered by the rest of the world, and you didn't speak that much unless it was required.But Lena knew what it was to go through tragedy too and she could see it was only a facade to what laid beneath the surface.

You had in fact one of the gentlest personalities she had ever encountered and she had been, inevitably, drawn to you. It was your shy and little smiles and sneaky jokes only the closest people got to see, the few but always true words that came from you when someone needed them, and your soothing presence that always brought a sense of ease to her, like the flame of a bonfire illuminating and warming up the night. She wondered how it was when you truly opened up.

"(Y/N), I'm serious. I can clean this in the morning." Lena had told you, picking up plates and glasses after everyone else was gone.

"It's alright. Besides I'm partially responsible for this mess as I'm the one that suggested we played this." You said picking up loose pieces of monopoly someone had tossed in a tantrum.

"Well, now I know why this game was banned in the Danvers family. I just never imagined Alex was this competitive." Lena walked to the kitchen counter, leaving the plates for later but discovering a little silver car in a plate. She picked it and walked back towards you to return it. "Here."

You looked up from the floor from where you had been searching for any other missing pieces to find the little car in her hand. You pushed yourself up and took it, brushing your fingers against Lena's palm as careful as it was possible for you. Lena noticed it enough for her heart to skip a beat.

"You don't want to see her when she really loses it." She saw you smile fondly. "She can be scary."

"I can imagine, but I do wonder if you ever get like that." She smirked. "I actually think I have never seen you other than really ...zen."

"That's by design." She saw your expression briefly change to a small frown and then look at the car in your hand.

"What do you mean?" She couldn't help but wonder if she had inadvertently changed the course of the conversation as she felt this wasn't just about board games anymore.

"If I get like that people can get hurt and I don't want to hurt anyone." She watched as you looked back at her with an expression that told her you had said more than intended.

Lena figured that was maybe the closest she would get to an opportunity to see you finally open up. She wanted to know you and decided to take the chance.

"How could you hurt anyone?" She asked stepping closer to you. You fidgeted with the little car, the proximity of your bodies making you nervous for a moment.

You could also sense what was happening at that moment. Without meaning to, you had opened a little breach on the delicate crafted mystery you had surrounded yourself with and it wasn't that you didn't want to tell Lena all about you, that had been the first thing you may have ever wanted to do when you met her, but it was complicated. Because you weren't ready to bring back the memories, because you were afraid she would be scared, because you knew Lena didn't get along well with secrets.

"I wish I could tell." You breathed in, trying to calm yourself but knowing if she asked you couldn't deny her anything.

"So you never lose control, (Y/N)?" She asked searching again for your eyes.

"You don't want me to, Lena." You said looking back.

"What if I want exactly that?"

The little silver car found itself a new place on the floor after you felt Lena's lips move over yours. Your hands couldn't keep holding it as they wrapped around Lena's body. She could feel your initial hesitation. The way your hands moved with just and enough pressure that she was sure you were holding back but were unable to stop yourself.

Lena had wanted to ask much more about you that she didn't think even for a second to stop what happened next. She had wanted to unravel the truths you held under yourself but she hadn't imagined the desire to unravel just you was going to be stronger.

Now, as she felt the morning getting colder, she imagined she had crossed a line you hadn't been ready to and cursed before getting up. She tried to call you but after the second unanswered call she gave up. It was clear for her what had happened. So she decided to go on with her day. She had a busy schedule, enough to keep her thoughts away from you. She could deal with her messy feelings later.

"I never thought I would say this but, Hellfire, uh, hold your fire." You heard Supergirl call from above you after you swept a line of fire to keep the aliens at bay. "We don't want to make them kebabs."

"Maybe we should." You replied with a hint of a grunt. "We could end this faster."

Kara could hear the annoyance in your voice. "That would be a bad example."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm trying to hurry up!" You said launching a small fireball to an alien that was coming directly for you.

Almost an hour had passed already and you weren't done fighting. It didn't help that Lena had called and you had been unable to answer. Suddenly, you also felt about to lose your temper.

Your morning had started as a dream, better even, as you woke to the most beautiful woman you had ever met. Then it was all ruined when you received an emergency call from the DEO. There was an attack from an alien group right downtown and you were required as a back up under Alex's direct orders. You knew you couldn't say no. The threat seemed serious enough and while you had wanted to wait till late morning in the Lena's bed, your fair conscience wouldn't let you leave your friends alone. You had spent one of the most incredible nights of your life, and you were stuck fighting aliens. Mostly, you were afraid this was the beginning and the end of your relationship with Lena.

"Why are there so many?" You grunted as you finally landed a punch who knocked one of those aliens.

"(Y/N), focus. Your fire may spread." Kara said and you realized a couple of your fireballs had hit a couple of small vending carts.

The flames around you were getting bigger, and you had to stop for a second to take a few deep breaths to lessen them. You also didn't want to cause more collateral damage with your powers.

"Alright then, let's finish this before you do decide to carbonize them." She joked.

"Good." It was all you said before continuing the fight.

Finally, you managed to end the fight. All aliens were taken to the DEO and while Alex and Kara had wanted you to accompany them to fill the reports you told them you had an emergency somewhere else. So you burned and used your flames to propel yourself into the sky.

Lena was taking a small break after finishing a meeting, watching the news a bout the alien attack downtown when her phone started to ring. She recognized your number and frowned for a moment before deciding to answer.

"I'm sorry." She heard you say and it wasn't something she had expected to hear first on this conversation.

"You don't need to apologize, (Y/N)." Lena responded with a coldness that made you wince on the other side of the line. "I'm sure you had something more important to do this morning."

"N-no. Yes." You rushed and Lena was left confused for a moment. You never stuttered. "I mean that I... I didn't mean to leave like that. I want to tell you what happened."

"You don't need to explain."

"I do." You replied with more confidence. "Meet me in the rooftop."

That left Lena startled and the fact that you mentioned the rooftop got her even more nervous. So she hurried, leaving a call for her assistant to cancel the rest of her appointments, and headed to the company's rooftop.

She couldn't start to imagine why you were there or how you had managed to even get there in the first place, it seemed so out of yourself that she almost feared she really pushed your buttons last night. Whatever you were planning, she was going to make sure you didn't do anything more reckless.

She pushed the door to the rooftop and found you pacing in the middle at the base of the helipad. She could hear the whole city from up there and the wind rushing in her ears.

"(Y/N), what are you doing?" She said as she approached you.

You walked towards her and stopped a few steps away. "I'm sorry."

"I know but why don't we talk about this somewhere else?"

"I figured your office had fire alarms." You said.

"Fire alarms?" Lena tried to take another step towards you and you had to take a step back. "(Y/N), I don't understand what's happening."

"Do you remember what we talked about last night?" You saw Lena frown a bit in confusion. "About me never losing control because that would get people hurt?"

"Yes." Lena watched you with attention, noticing the subtle hesitation behind your eyes and your words.

"It's just that..." You shook your head and then took a deep breath before raising your arm. "It's hard to look at."

"(Y/N), you don't need to-" She saw the exact moment your arm began to catch fire. You held your hand at eye level and watched it as it started to burn.

She opened her mouth in shock and surprise as it finally clicked in her brain. The news about the alien attack were pretty much excited to have a better look at National City's new hero known as Hellfire and while looking at you she thought the name was fitting. You had been right, it wasn't something easy to look at. Soon enough it wasn't just your arm but your whole body burning. The flames made their way consuming you and she could see your burning flesh through them. Skin, muscle and bone was burning the way she would expect some piece of carbon to do so. Then it was your eyes, glowing like molten lava.

You let Lena watch for a moment before meeting her eye. After seeing the shock in her face you decided it was enough for a show. You took a deep breath once again and let the flames die, leaving your scorched skin exposed but it healed so fast that it was barely noticeable what had happened.

"When I was younger, the building I lived in with my family burned. It was night and we woke up to late to escape the fire. I was caught in the fire, and I burned...and burned, and burned, and burned." You remembered the night it had happened, still fresh in your memory and as painful as ever. "I was found in that same building during the night. I had no burns, no wounds, no scars, and no one that could explain how that was possible. They took me to the hospital and when they told me I had been the only survivor, I got so angry and desperate that I started a new fire right there."

Lena went back to the night before, the way you seemed to hold yourself, the way your hands touched her body almost methodically, the air becoming hotter with each heavy breath. She had imagined you were about to burst, and she had no idea how literal that could have been.

This time when she approached you she was glad you didn't step back again. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because I was afraid of a lot of things. Because you ignite something in me, Lena, something I have no real control over." You swallowed, her closeness making you nervous once again.

"Last night you were pretty much under control." She moved closer and closer towards you. There was certain relief in her words. All her fears and doubts had been erased as she realized you wanted this as much as her.

"That's because the thing I'm most afraid of is hurting you. I would go mad if that ever happened." You lifted a hand up to her face and traced the line of her jaw with your fingertips. "I can't lose you."

"You won't." She said before she pulled you in for another kiss.

She felt your lips against hers and she found herself thinking again about the flames of a bonfire, warm and soothing against the cold of the night. She thought it wouldn't it be that bad to be consumed by your fire.

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena x you #lena x reader #metahuman reader #metahuman!reader #superhero #superhero!reader #superhero reader #angst with happy ending #fire #request #one shot #burns #tw burn

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Idle Chat with Kiro

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Lucien / Shaw / Victor

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: We can visit that dessert shop today! Because I. Don’t! Have! To! Work! Overtime!

Kiro: Although we’re separated by the screen, I can sense Miss Chip’s happiness~

Kiro: Since this is the case, our challenge today will be to--

Kiro: Wipe! The! Dessert! Shop! Clean!

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Went to work feeling muddle-headed today, which left me with a stack of incomplete work. Sigh, I might have to work overtime today.

Kiro: Did you spend too much time watching dramas last night?

Kiro: Next time, you have to stick to a regular sleeping timing.

Kiro: Also, isn’t the male lead by your side?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The market hasn’t been good lately, so the income I received has also gone down. I feel like I’ve left everyone down...

Kiro: Back then, MC went through such difficult times.

Kiro: I think these little twists and turns don’t account for much!

Kiro: Because you’re always producing miracles!

-

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve received my pay~ I even have a bonus this month! Aren’t I incredible?

Kiro: As expected of Miss Chips!

Kiro: As a reward, I’ll give you a present.

Kiro: Want to know what it is?

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I have no idea why, but I haven’t been interested in anything I do. Could it be because it’s a long time till payday?

Kiro: Mm... want to consider changing occupations and becoming my assistant?

Kiro: You’ll be paid daily.

Kiro: Also, there will be an additional, exclusive Kiro hug every day.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Working overtime again and again and again and again! There’s even a rainstorm outside! The most enraging thing is that I didn’t bring an umbrella!

Kiro: I checked the weather forecast beforehand

Kiro: So I knew there’d be a rainstorm

Kiro: Give me five minutes - I’ll be there soon!

-

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Do you still remember the collaborative program I mentioned before? We plan to invite a mystery guest. Want to guess who he is?

Kiro: I’m guessing he is -- Kiro!

Kiro: If Miss Chips doesn’t invite me,

Kiro: I’ll be very hurt.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The reaction from the other party regarding this collaborative program seems bland. Actually, I also find the content a little boring. I have no inspiration at all...

Kiro: In my eyes, everything Miss Chips does is very interesting.

Kiro: But if you really have no inspiration,

Kiro: Need me to help you grab it back?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve already made over thirty amendments to the proposal for this collaborative program. What more does the other party want?! What do they mean by a “vibrant black”??

Kiro: Oo... a vibrant black...

Kiro: It does sound like a difficult operation.

Kiro: Maybe it’s the same thing as how Apple Box’s jet-black eyes are bright even at night?

-

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The program I’ve been working on for months has finally gotten approved! If I were to continue doing it, I’d probably have gone bald... Should I place an order for hair-growth shampoo?

Kiro: Instead of hair-growth shampoo, I think what you need more is sufficient sleep.

Kiro: Or a limited-edition Kiro hug?

Kiro: I’ll decide on both of them on your behalf~

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: My daily self-reflection -- Has the program been approved? Not yet :(

Kiro: My daily self-reflection -- Do I think about Miss Chips?

Kiro: Always. 

Kiro: Miss Chips, do your best!

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Good news. The program I’ve been painstakingly working on for several months has been rejected. :)

Kiro: Whenever my albums get delayed, I’ll take Apple Box out for a walk.

Kiro: Since Apple Box doesn’t have a slot recently,

Kiro: Why don’t I take you out for a walk instead?

🌻

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've reached my ideal weight! I’m really happy~ I can finally toss away the salad that even Apple Box dislikes.

Kiro: Although I didn’t think you were fat before,

Kiro: What’s most important is that Miss Chips is happy!

Kiro: P.S. You’ve stopped eating snacks recently - Apple Box and I are both very upset.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: A sincere question - If your weight remained the same after dieting and exercising for a week, would you choose to feast ferociously on crayfish or barbecue? 

Kiro: Since your weight is so disobedient,

Kiro: Let’s punish it fiercely!

Kiro: Why don’t we have barbecue along with crayfish!

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why is it that every time I indulge in extravagant eating and drinking, I always scroll to a page showing models with incredible figures?! I’m once again putting up a flag to lose weight!!

Kiro: Promise me that you won’t go on a diet to lose weight.

Kiro: Effective exercise and a reasonable work-life balance is the correct way to do it.

Kiro: But will our weekly dessert day continue?

-

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Burp-- I had a buffet this afternoon, and I’m so full now. Let me secretly tell you that I had to support myself on the wall to get out.

Kiro: Hahaha, I’m also the same after a photoshoot,

Kiro: Wanting to stuff myself to the brim.

Kiro: Next time, let’s compete to see who is the true buffet killer!

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve entered a special bottleneck period - What should I have for lunch? What should I have for dinner?

Kiro: Mm... this is indeed a big problem which frequently stumps me.

Kiro: Want to watch a documentary on delicacies?

Kiro: You might be able to find some “inspiration” on what to eat.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I was seized by a whim and did some cooking. When I changed the seasoning just slightly, I ended up creating a mysterious, indescribable taste...

Kiro: Mm... has your cooking magic lost its touch temporarily?

Kiro: That’s all right 

Kiro: Tomorrow, we’ll try again together. 

-

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I came across a picture book today, and readers can use their fingers to make a dot in the book grow bigger or smaller~ It’s very adorable!

Kiro: I really wish Miss Chips were that little dot.

Kiro: That way, I can make you really tiny

Kiro: And store you in my pocket. 

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: There’s a book wasteland... Why can’t I find a single good book...

Kiro: Someone said that the most interesting book is a person’s life.

Kiro: Could the reason you’re unable to find a good book

Kiro: Be because your life is already very interesting?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’ve been keeping up with a web series, but the author said that he decided to go on a hiatus today after receiving negative comments. My spiritual nourishment is gone...

Kiro: Negative comments truly make people upset

Kiro: Want to leave an encouraging comment to the author?

Kiro: Tell him that there are many readers who like his work!

-

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Ding-- Dear respected customer, your gaming partner has found another interesting game. If you wish to know the name of the game, kindly reply with a ‘1′

Kiro: Rejected.

Kiro: Hahahaha, I’m just teasing you.

Kiro: 11111!

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Help... I’m stuck at the fifth stage of this riddle game. What do I have to do so the squirrel would release its hold on the key?

Kiro: There’s actually such a mean squirrel?

Kiro: Let me handle it!

Kiro: If it doesn’t work, I’ll let Cello catch it!

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: My hand slipped when I was playing a game today, causing the entire game to restart :) Don’t stop me - I’m going to chop off this troublemaking hand!!

Kiro: An urgent appeal to spare your hand!

Kiro: Think on the positive side,

Kiro: We now have another thing we can complete together~

🌻

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I've prepared a studying schedule, and am filled with confidence for this new life of studying! Kiro, please supervise me from time to time!

Kiro: Understood! 

Kiro: If you get lazy--

Kiro: Heheh, there’ll be punishment. 

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’ve been staring at my book for an hour in a daze. Why do I understand the words in isolation, but not when they are strung together?

Kiro: Mm... from a certain perspective, isn’t knowledge a series of code?

Kiro: Read them as though you’re playing a riddle game. 

Kiro: Perhaps you’ll find a way to pass the stage!

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Why does my brain function so slowly the moment I start studying? Isn’t it very amazing when I play games?!

Kiro: I’d like to correct two mistakes Miss Chips made--

Kiro: Number One, whenever you get stuck in a game, you’d let me take over;

Kiro: Number Two, your brain isn’t functioning slowly. It’s just time to take a break.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Because I remembered the reward you mentioned, I finished my homework really quickly today! What’s the reward, what’s the reward?

Kiro: I already said that you could definitely do it!

Kiro: As for the reward,

Kiro: Come closer, and I’ll tell you.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Whenever I do homework, it seems that aside from the homework, I become curious about everything else. Oh yes, do you think a dog sees itself as a dog?

Kiro: Miss Chips, concentrate!

Kiro: But for your question, I’ve asked Apple Box about it

Kiro: It responded and said...

Kiro: Bark!

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: A sincere question - can homework be done in stages? I really can’t finish it ahhh!

Kiro: Take your time, I’ll accompany you.

Kiro: Although I don’t know if homework can be done in stages,

Kiro: But my care for you is a fixed asset.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is coming up soon. It’s a good thing you supervised me and ensured that I studied seriously. The scope of the exam was also very clearly detailed by the teacher!

Kiro: I think you forgot the most important thing--

Kiro: Miss Chips’ own diligence and hard work.

Kiro: Miss Chips, all the best for your exam!

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Memorising the examinable points is really difficult. It feels as though the moment I memorise a sentence, I forget the earlier one. How do you memorise the lines in your script?

Kiro: I have my exclusive Kiro memorisation technique of course!

Kiro: It’s exceptionally effective!

Kiro: If you want know about it, bring a bag of chips over to me~

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When the teacher was pointing out the important segments, he said the first three chapters are the foundation, the following three chapters are important, and the final three chapters are examinable. Doesn’t this mean I have to revise the entire book!

Kiro: It takes a long time to revise the entire book.

Kiro: Do you need a Kiro exam buddy?

Kiro: It comes with a massage, milk tea delivery, and hugs.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The exam is over~ After comparing answers, there doesn’t seem to be any big issues! Kiro, who supervised me in my revision, is the best!

Kiro: Congratulations Miss Chips!

Kiro: Since I’ve rendered outstanding service, as a reward,

Kiro: Give all your post-examination resting time to me~

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The exam is finally over... I actually don’t feel very happy... Could it be because the final question was simply incomprehensible? 

Kiro: Hasn’t Miss Chips been looking forward to this day for a very long time?

Kiro: In that case, I have to find a way to cheer you up.

Kiro: Let’s laze on the sofa and watch your favourite movie. How’s that?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I messed it up... I gave up on the last two questions... I think I’ve definitely messed it up...

Kiro: Maybe all the questions in front were correct!

Kiro: Also, one exam doesn’t mean much

Kiro: You’ll always be the smartest Miss Chips in my heart!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #more! love! for! our! little! sunbeam!

[ubernoxa]

The Groupie: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 4: A Closed Door

Masterlist

Story Summary: Even when I was younger, I knew I wanted to be in music. I had a hunger for it that could never be satisfied. I wanted to be where the music played. I was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. At first it was a rush of pure adrenalin that would fill me as I tuned their guitars and partied with them after the gigs (sometimes even more), but just like all adrenalin rushes you eventually have to come down.

Chapter Summary: Celi realizes that she was a fool.

Celi wandered around backstage looking for something to do. She continued to rub her neck hoping to ease the sharp pain that had settle there last night. She was originally spending time with the other girls backstage , but quickly grew bored of the questions about Izzy. So here she was wondering backstage looking for something to distract herself, looking to help setup for the show. She missed helping setup and tune the instruments. She felt disconnected, like something was missing. Celi couldn’t help but laugh at herself looking for work, if she told herself last month that she would go out of her way to find work she would have laughed in her own face. Back when she was with the Hempers she wished, no prayed, that she wouldn’t have to work. She prayed for a day where she could sit around and do nothing. Funny how quickly things had changed.

The hotel rooms still felt foreign to her. Each hotel room would always make her jaw drop. Granted these hotels were barely a step above the Motel 6s, but compared to the tents and busses she was used to they were immaculate. Some were nicer than other, but the beds always felt like clouds. The first couple of days Izzy would teach her to play guitar, but it was clear to her that he must have forgotten his promise or just wasn’t in the mood for it. He had been playing in a show every other night, and it was definitely taking a toll on the guitarist. He wouldn’t admit it, but Celi knew. She wasn’t sure how she could help, but instead of playing she would try to talk with him after they had sex. She quickly picked up that he was always the sweetest and protective after sex. Their conversations would range from music to the beauty of the setting sun. He would always comment how the rising and setting sun was the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her being the first. The first time he told her that he wasn’t sober, so she brushed it off. Once he said it the following morning, and every morning after that, she believed him. One of the many things she loved about Izzy is that he was poetic. His poetic ness clearly showed itself in the songs he wrote, but he would only truly show that side of him to her when they were alone.

“Why don’t you go off with the other groupies, and wait with them for the guys to finish sound check,” one of the stage hands responded not wanting to take part in whatever game Celi was playing. In his mind all of the groupies were the same. He believed that all of them wanted to fuck one of the band members hoping that they get married and she doesn’t have to work for the rest of their life. Freeloaders, a bunch of damn freeloaders. He took a quick second and looked the girl up and down. She was young, and with her bright red hair he knew exactly who she was. He had heard stories about the redhead that had caught Izzy’s attention..at least for now.., and didn’t want to be apart of one of the stories. The worst part about stories was that most of them weren’t true.

“Wow..okay...I’m not here to ‘worship’ some guy. I’m here to be with the music, and the music is here backstage, setting up this shit. I used to do it all the time before with the Hempers, so just give me something to do. I’ll sweep the stage or clean lenses,” Celi shot back. Much to her dismay there was a slight adjustment between being a groupie for the Hempers vs being a groupie for Guns, the female groupies were there to keep the guys entertained.

“Now you listen here bitch,” before the guy who stood in front of Celi could continue his growling, a guy no older than Celi interrupted their discussion.

“Hey Mark, I’m running behind schedule, can you help me with tuning Steven’s drums?” The brunette turned to Celi and asked, “Celi right? You used to tune guitars for the Hempers?”

“Yeah, I’ve also tuned drums. Need help?” Celi quickly asked as he nodded his head and motioned for her to follow him to the stage area.

“I thought the guys were already doing sound check? What’s the problem with the drums?” Celi asked practically running after the guy. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute as she followed him backstage.

“No, they’re in some sort of group meeting, and no they aren’t broken. Sounded like you wanted a job, so I thought I’d give you one,” Celi couldn’t help smile at him.

“Thanks, it’s weird...not working with the instrument. I feel so detached from the music,” Celi admitted as she grabbed the required tools for tuning from a bag backstage. She felt his watchful eyes on her, obviously this was her first test.

Without hesitation she grabbed the items, and headed onstage. She knew if she showed any doubt, if she flinched, or showed even the slightest hesitation then she wouldn’t be asked to help again.

“Really? I’d think having Izzy’s dick inside of you every night would mean that you are incredibly close to the music,” Celi froze as the guy spoke. What the fuck was his problem?

She took a deep breath, and thought to herself what Morgi would do if she was in her position. Morgi would defuse the situation, and ignore the dick ass comment. She could cuss the guy out later, but right now she needed him to have a job. She reminder herself of one of the most important rules Morgi had taught her, cause no trouble.

“Fuck off, you know what I meant,” She offered him a peaceful smile and giggling pretending that she wasn’t overly pissed off at him. Celi wanted to stand up to him, and actually tell him to fuck off. Today wasn’t the day, but sooner rather than later that day would come.

Celi sat down and began working on getting all of the tension rods finger tight on the first drum. She could feel him watching her every move as she worked, and that ticked her off even more. She shook off the eerie feeling, and lightly tapped the shell of the drum ignoring his stare. Taking the trusty drum key in hand, she began tuning the bottom head, praying that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. His eyes were on her like a hawk on its pray as she began tapping and tensioning in a diagonal pattern. Once it was to her liking She began working on the top.

Time quickly flew by as she moved from drum to drum. At least he was attempting to be nice, unlike the Mark character she had met earlier. He eventually left to go get Steven, and she couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to be with the music again.

“Hey Celi! I didn’t know you could tune drums?” She smiled at Steven as he practically bounced over towards his kit that she had just tuned.

“Yeah, let me know what adjustments you would like me to make. Kiyv from Hempers was always really particular to how he had his, so let me know!” Celi couldn’t help but let her smile grow as she spoke even though her heart was practically going to explode out of her chest.

“Pretty good, I just like it a little more....bend in the tone if ya know what I mean,” Celi nodded as he spoke trying to take in every word. He grabbed the key and torqued down some of the rods.

“You can go Sam, Celi and I can finish this up,” Steven said before turning to Sam. Ahh so his name was Sam.

“Wanna tune Slash’s extra guitars once you’re done with that? Our regular guy who does it is off talking with our supplier.” Celi nodded back at this so called Sam as he headed out. Her heart was practically performing backflips from the excitement of being able to play a guitar again.

“Wait Celi!”

Celi quickly snapped her head back towards Sam who was running back in her and Steven’s direction. “We are having a meeting at 9 pm in room 7B about post show stage cleanup. If you want to keep helping we can always use the extra hands, but if you were just here to help to make the time fly by don't bother stopping by,” Celi nodded back at this so called Sam as he headed out. Celi reamined frozen as she watched Sam leave. There was no way in hell she was going to be missing that meeting.

Steven then spent the next 10 minutes explaining exactly how he liked it tuned. After he finished Celi couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Steven rested his elbows on he knees as he looked Celi up and Down. He sent a flirtatious smile her way as he remained hidden behind his sunglasses. It was hard for him to look away, even if she was one of Izzy’s girls.

“I worked with Kiyv and his drum set for a couple months. No matter how much I tried to dial it in, they were never perfect. At first I was offended, but later on I realized that it’s all personal preference. I am not you so how will I know what you feel like playing that day, but that won’t keep me from trying to,” before she could continue she felt an arm wrap around her waist and slowly tug her away from Steven. She didn’t have to guess who it was.

“I was looking for you after the meeting, you weren’t in the dressing room. What are you doing out here,” there was a playful tone as he whispered into Celi’s ear.

“I was looking for something to do,” Celi whispered back.

“Now what has my Celi been doing all day? A girl like her can have all the booze and drugs her heart desires, and yet she found herself working onstage,” Celi’s heart fluttered as as he spoke. She thank god or the spirits or whoever was in charge of the world that he wasn’t mad at her.

“Working! It’s called working. Someone had to get the drums ready for your performance tonight,” Celi teased back earning a chuckle from Izzy. She could feel them, all the eyes that were currently on her and Izzy.

“Come on now baby, I don’t want you to be tired for tonight,” His comment caught Celi off guard, but she knew she had to quickly recover. She could recover. Her words were failing and all she could do was blush.

“Get off my stage,” Axl shot at Celi breaking her ‘moment’ with Izzy. Celi never lost her smile as she quickly surveyed the band.

“Fuck off fire crotch,” Celi shot back before strolling away to go tune Slash’s extra guitars that she he wouldn’t use for the concert tonight.

The whole time she tuned, she tried to shake what had just transpired. She played a short melody trying to dive deeper and deeper into every note. She wanted to escape from the small section of her brain that was freaking out. The part of her brain the was quick to point out the fact that she had broken every one of Morgi’s rules.

—————————-

Out of place was a good word for how Celi felt in room 7B waiting for the meeting the after show meeting to start. Celi fidgeted with the hem of her shirt trying to ignore the stares she was receiving.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” Celi turned to see Sam sit next to her. He smiled as he took in her appearance. By the way she tied her hair up, and now wore sneakers, it was clear that she was here to work.

Celi sat and listened to the meeting where they discussed the required post show photographs and interview that were lined up for the guys. The interview that Izzy had been bitching about all week. She felt eyes on her as she sat next to Sam, but she was expecting them.

“Alright Sam, standard plan for packing the drum kit. I see you brought some help, but if you need any more let me or Mark know,”

The next few hours were filled with packing and moving equipment off stage. She cussed under her breath as she forgot how tiring packing up was. The time passed within seconds, and before she knew it Sam handed her a beer in celebration of a job completed

“I thought you would bail half way through packing up,” when Arnie first saw Celi he thought that she would be a pain for two hours and then she would disappear. Arnie has been with Guns N’ Roses for the past 8 months working their lighting, and not once had he heard of a groupie wanting to help.

“Well I used to do it all the time, so really it's no big deal. Thanks for the beer, but I should probably get to showering, Long day,” Celi quickly finished her beer and headed towards the showers.

She headed towards Izzy’s dressing room, hoping to catch him before he went to the afterparty. After getting lost twice, she smiled when she saw the plain door with a piece of paper with Izzy’s name of it. She quickly jiggled the door only to find that it was locked. ‘What the fuck’?

“What time is it?” Celi asked a by-passer who quickly checked his watch.

“11 pm,” the man replied before continuing on his way. Confusion filled Celi as she tried to figure out why the door was locked. He must have been in their if the door was locked, maybe he didn’t want to be disturbed by the others? Usually all of the dressing rooms, except Slash’s would be cleaned out by the end of the show. Everyone would then congregate into Slash’s dressing room and drink their asses off. If it was locked that meant he was in there because the cleaned ones were left unlocked. Celi took a deep breath, but right before she was going knock a moan filled the empty air. Her hands dropped to her sides as she stared the bare door.

Her mind went blank and her feet took over as she wandered towards where the public showers were. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail to use as a mask as it covered her face. She cussed herself as she could feel the tears build in her eyes. She couldn’t tell if she was more mad at Izzy or himself.

‘She was a groupie, and the sex meant nothing,’ She told herself over and over again. Her heart still burned as the thought of Izzy having sex with someone else filled her brain. The moan continued to play in her head over and over again causing more tears to cascade down her face.

She purposely avoided any eye contact with anyone she encountered in the hallways. She was a fool. A stupid little girl who fell for a rockstar.

Rule Number 1: The sex means nothing.

The sex meant nothing.

The guitar lessons meant nothing.

The late night talks meant nothing.

Everything meant nothing.

#the groupie #groupie #gnr imagine #gnr fanfiction #gnr fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #guns and roses imagine #guns and roses fanfiction #guns and roses fanfic #izzy stradlin fanfic #izzy stradlin imagine #izzy stradlin fanfiction

[porchdahlia59]

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Content

Household Mediation In Leeds.

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9 Steps To Maximize Mediation At The Office.

Phone around to find the most effective price, yet keep in mind the cheapest may not be the very best. You don't require to head to mediation to aid you finish your partnership. There are someexceptions when you do not need to go to the MIAM prior to litigating- as an example, if you've experienced residential abuse. If you go to a solicitor first, they'll most likely talk to you about whether utilizing mediation first can assist. We use cookies to boost your experience of our website.You can figure out more or opt-out from some cookies. Our workplace mediation services resolve facility and tough disagreements swiftly, properly and also with as little disruption as possible.

By following this approach, we can make sure that things get off to the perfect begin, that every person recognizes the procedure, which everyone is collaborating towards that end goal that we're all seeking. As long as individuals are interacting well, assisting each other out, as well as pulling in the same direction, after that the job obtains done and also everybody wins. Stay in touch with the latest mediation and also ADR information and also believing using social media sites, plus our regular blog posts and also podcasts.

Family Mediation In Leeds.

Jan is the Chair of The University of Mediators and in 2018 won Family members Moderator of the Year at the National Mediation Awards. Legal Aid is typically offered to those who get on a low income or on particular benefits, such as Universal Credit. To see if you qualify, complete our free online Lawful Help analysis form. If you make a successful Lawful Aid application, there will certainly be no charges for your MIAM and also mediation sessions. In addition to this, it will certainly also pay for the MIAM as well as initial mediation session with your ex-partner.

Simply wanted to thank you for navigating me and also 'A' with some truly challenging problems. Your involvement has actually brought us all to a location we couldn't have gotten to without your help.

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Out of these, the cookies that are classified as required are stored on your browser as they are necessary for the working of standard capabilities of the site. However opting out of some of these cookies might affect your surfing experience. The board participants bring a wide range of experience to the firm, with supervisors' histories varying from company to social work. She was previously the Director of the Household Mediators Organization and also a Participant of the Ministry of Justice Household Mediation Guiding Team.

It's an excellent concept to speak to a lawyer before selecting arbitration - they can inform you if it's ideal for you, as well as could be able to suggest an excellent neighborhood household arbitrator. A simple mediation case may set you back ₤ 1,000, but you can wind up paying much more - the specific quantity depends where you live as well as the length of time it requires to get to an arrangement.

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Family mediation is another option if you wish to stay out of court. You must ask your lawyer to give you a written estimate of how much your legal costs will be. If you're not yet ready to obtain a separation or end your civil collaboration, they can tape your setups as a 'separation contract' instead.

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Posted: Wed, 30 Dec 2020 08:00:00 GMT [source]

You'll each require to pay your lawyers' fees, which can be expensive. Just how much you'll pay at the end depends on for how long it considers you and your ex-partner to get to an agreement. This is a created or on-line document of exactly how you as well as your ex-partner mean to look after your children.Find out even more about making a parenting intend on the Kid as well as Household Court Advisory and also Assistance Solution site. Courts normally will not decide that a kid lives or hangs out with if they assume the moms and dads can sort points out themselves. Your arbitrator will write a 'memorandum of recognizing' - this is a record that reveals what you've concurred. Consider what you wish to get out of mediation before you start. Mediation is most likely to be successful if you can spend the sessions focusing on points you actually disagree on.

I simply wished to leave a message to claim a Thank you to the girl on the front desk, I was welcomed with a lovely smile and also a friendly, type professional service. We have our own devoted mediation properties in a silent yet central area, with 3 mediation spaces, different waiting locations, a reception area with extra seating as well as a back office. If you would certainly like us not to share this responses information with the moderator worried, please tick this box. Tiny Claims Court Genie is a trading style of SV Legal Training Ltd|Our website just relates to the courts in England & Wales|Copyright 2020. If you want to give on your own the very best chance of being successful, download our best guide. It takes you through the process detailed and in plain English. There is absolutely nothing to stop the celebrations trying once more to get to regards to settlement between the two of them before test.

The conciliator is a court worker that is trained in mediation abilities.

There is mediation available for cases outside the tiny insurance claims track such as fast-track and multi-track track claims.

There are a large number of mediators around, both independent and also mediation bodies.

This means that your divorce, or splitting up, will be a lot much less difficult in terms of financial effects for your children.

The National Mediation Helpline can help with such issues or the events can instruct an exclusive conciliator.

You will certainly locate that with mediation there is a whole lot more cash which is left over for the fundamentals of life.

Meetings are exclusive and at the conciliator's office or a neutral location. We'll contact you to review your customer's requirements and also figure out whether an online MIAM is appropriate for them. After that, you can either schedule a meeting on your client's behalf or we'll call them as well as keep you in the loop.

Our solicitors draft your contract right into a separation contract which you sign and witness. We can settle your financial, residential property or parenting issues amicably, cost efficiently and relatively. business mediation services plymouth is when an objective person - trained in handling hard discussions between 2 opposing sides - acts like an umpire in a conflict. We can't respond, so if you need aid with a trouble learn just how you can obtain advice from us. You can also locate a family members arbitrator online on the Institute of Household Regulation Arbitrators web site.

Jess works in our head office and also is responsible for our lawful plans as well as client relations. Belinda runs our head workplace and ensures you receive a specialist as well as compassionate solution. Advise an independent lawyer to inform you what would certainly be a likely end result at court on your instance.

Our group of specialist and experienced workplace arbitrators deal with all celebrations in a dispute to establish their underlying needs as well as interests, urge discussion as well as inevitably, assist in an equally acceptable resolution. When an organisation contemplates introducing a mediation programme, there are three methods a work legal representative's duty is most likely to be valuable.The initial is that no one is better positioned to urge making use of mediation. Any practitioner that has experience of standard grievance and also corrective procedures will certainly understand exactly how binary the results often tend to be and also the method which parties have a tendency to end up being adversarial. If workplace mediation brighton was not enough, when litigation follows, they observe very closely the anxiety developed as well as are thoroughly associated with diverting supervisors from their main roles to plan for hearings.

Can you bring evidence to mediation?

Although mediation is confidential, if you show evidence to the other party, there is nothing to stop them using this evidence if your matter later goes to court and they can find the evidence in another way.

Nonetheless, if terms can not be gotten to, a Court will choose the matter at test. It is most likely nonetheless, that to get to a negotiation, both celebrations will need to jeopardize as well as make giving ins. The mediator will certainly focus on striking an offer, as opposed to getting involved in the detail or trying to choose who is right or wrong. As opposed to assigning blame, he will aim to reconstruct the partnership if ideal. We after that inspect back in with the parties after six weeks to see exactly how points are going as well as to ensure that whatever is running efficiently. Every scenario is various though, and one of the primary factors we are so effective is that we are adaptable in our strategy to mediation. However, typically talking, this bypassing framework functions very well.

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[hallowed-be-thy-username]

If You’re Good At Something, Never Do It For Free Chapter One: In Need Of Some Assistance

I figured I’d post the first chapter of my WIP on here! TDK Joker x Original Female Character. It is currently at 17 out of ? (Where it stops, nobody knows!) chapters on AO3! 

**Warnings for full fic include: Graphic violence, explicit language, blood and gore, smut smut smut, graphic depiction of corpses, murder, aaaand recreational drug use!**

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! I might eventually put all of the chapters up on here or check it out on AO3!

Meet Nora Hawthorne. She spent her time like most Gotham residents. Go to work, go home, keep up with the news. That changed one night. Her life becomes even more interesting after Gotham's own Clown Prince of Crime comes crashing in with a life-threatening injury, leaving her questioning her morals as well as her romantic desires

Jesus, it’s been a long day. A woman with brunette hair above her shoulders, wearing a pair of loose teal green scrubs stands from her desk chair to twist her torso until a satisfying *crack* is heard, followed by a deep sigh. The noise of her tired spine popping into alignment is heard only by her as she stands alone in the treatment area of the now empty veterinary hospital. The brick structure sits between an apartment building and a law firm in West Harlow, the Gotham City neighborhood west of downtown, adjacent to The Narrows. This location makes Dr. Nora Hawthorne one busy veterinarian. On a daily basis she tends to anything from impatient businessmen toting in their wives’ teacup Yorkies with a little cough to large Rottweilers with deep neck wounds. To say she’s gained a variety of experience is an understatement.

She doesn’t own the place, though. Two years out of school and 30 years old means she has some hefty bills to pay. Dr. Moore owns the clinic. Taking this job meant long hours and a busy schedule with not much sympathy from David Moore. “Your generation expects everything handed to them, don’t you? I had to work harder than this to get where I am,” as he just loved to remind her of every time she requested time off for a little… what is it called again? Oh right, work-life balance. Sure, Moore. Enjoy your mini mansion in Uptown since it seems you have no problem balancing the weight of your business on a pair of younger shoulders. Even if it means those shoulders are constantly wound up in to deep knots that no amount of morning yoga can seem to unravel. But she can’t quit. Those bills to pay threaten to pile higher and she’s afraid of heights. Plus, job security in Gotham is hard to come by. Especially since the Joker escaped from Arkham two months ago.

That was in May. Everyone in the city has been on edge since then and the Summer heat is not helping. The days go by but not a peep has been heard in regard to the Clown Prince of Crime’s whereabouts. Same for the Batman. The eerie silence has only been making it worse. The traffic congesting the city streets increases in intensity every evening as Gotham’s citizens rush home in an effort to avoid getting caught up in whatever devastating scheme the Joker has been cooking up during his involuntary vacation. But the threat never comes, leaving the city’s inhabitants to nervously watch and wait. Maybe it won’t come. Maybe he left Gotham for good. Left to terrorize a new city. Wishful thinking is what gets us all through the day. But the tension still weighs on everyone’s nerves, making Nora’s day that much harder when she gets an earful from her clients on a regular basis for things that are out of her control. “Sir, you don’t need to speak to me like that. I did not give your cat a urinary tract infection,” is not something she thought she’d ever find herself saying.

It is what it is. All she can do is keep her head on her shoulders and do her job, care for Gotham’s only truly innocent citizens. Animals don’t dwell in the past, they only live in the present. In that regard, they’re smarter than the majority of Gotham’s inhabitants. She made it her job to advocate for their health and well-being, since they can’t do it themselves. Nora was staying late to finish medical records for the sea of patients the clinic took in that day and she wanted it all recorded while it was fresh in her brain. If you don’t write it down, it didn’t happen. She told her assistant, “You go on home, I’ll just be here finishing notes. Get some rest.” The heavy set women expressed her concern for Dr. Hawthorne being here by herself but the job has gotten her used to being out well after dark. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door locked,” was the response her assistant, Jen, would always get in return. She didn’t want to argue so she would leave Nora to her work within the off-white walls of the dimly lit hospital in silence.

Nora stretched once more and shifted a glance to the clock on the wall. 9:58pm. Had it been fourteen hours already? Her stomach responded with a growl as if to answer in the affirmative. The hard-working staff finished cleaning the treatment room a couple of hours ago leaving the two metal tables in the center of the room shiny and ready for whatever tomorrow brings. The room wasn’t very large but the open design left ample room for patient care. The treatment tables against the walls opposite from each other extended toward the center of the room, leaving a four foot space between them, and had ceiling-mounted exam lights above them. Along the walls there were shelves of neatly organized equipment and tools. Essentials. White medical tape, boxes of gloves, bandage scissors, IV catheters in a variety of sizes, thermometers, bottles of isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, jars with gauze soaked in chlorhexidine scrub, sterile lubricant, needles and syringes, and bandage material being among the most heavily utilized items. Along the back wall is a bank of cages and kennels for patients spending the day in the clinic (any patients in need of continued care were transferred to a nearby twenty four-hour hospital) flanked by drawers full of IV fluids and sterilized tools. The back right corner of the room opened into a short hallway leading to the area that housed a small surgical suite, devoid of any light this time of night, where a cart with monitors and a gas anesthesia circuit sat in wait for its next use. Just beyond this suite is a small door marked “Radiology” indicating the digital X-ray equipment kept inside, keeping radiation exposure to the rest of the place at a minimum. Nora’s desk is in the back left corner of the treatment room, a shelf full of medical reference books sitting above her head.  Also that “World’s Greatest Dog-tor” certificate Jen gave her last Spring. Nora didn’t have the heart to tell her she found it kind of insulting.

With the last medical record completed, details of the day’s procedures noted in succinct but thorough language, it was time for the doctor to make her way back to her nearby apartment for some much needed rest. She left her seldom-worn long white lab coat on the back of her chair where it always was and removed the black stethoscope from around her neck to place it on her desk. Walking toward the red-lit exit sign above the side door leading to the alley, she flicked the switch to turn the remaining lights off. She usually had a small can of pepper spray readied in her hand when she left alone at a late hour. But Nora had been practically beaten into the ground with exhaustion at this point and her thoughts were instead centered around a hot shower and her soft bed.

She opened the door to receive a gust of warm night air to her face, intensifying her sleepy feelings. Letting out a rather large yawn, she turned to put her keys in the door to lock it. As she removed the key from the lock, she felt a strange sensation on the back her neck. Like a crawling of her skin, a feeling of dread. Before she could turn around in search of the source of her body’s sudden danger signal, a purple glove slammed onto the door next to her head. Her eyes snapped to the glove and she froze, unable to breathe, while her heart jumped into her throat.

“Evening, doc,” a nasally, raspy voice said. She slowly turned her head to find herself face to face with the Joker himself, leaning with his gloved hand against the door. His makeup was smudged wildly and he was wearing his signature purple overcoat and suit. All color drained from Nora’s face as her breathing quickened to a practically panting rate, the idea of sleep drowned in a surge of adrenaline. Before she could make a sound his other gloved hand clapped over her mouth, a knife tucked between his thumb and index finger, the blade laying flat across the top of his hand.

“Ahh tah tah, no screamin’, doc. Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors, would we?” he said, his dark eyes staring straight into hers. Nora struggled to regain her composure, it did her no good to panic. She knew begging and crying would get her nowhere with the Joker. Better to have as clear a head as possible. She took a sharp inhale through her nose. The wave of gasoline and extinguished matches that met her nostrils was overwhelming. It almost made her dizzy. But she slowly let the breath back out through her nose. Their gaze into each other’s eyes, hers wide with fear, his black and hooded, had not been broken since his zeroed in on hers. It was like magnets were keeping her eyes on his, no matter how hard she tried to look away, she couldn’t do it.

“Now. I’m going to move my hand and youuu are not gonna scream. Got it?” his voice getting slightly higher as he spoke. Without thinking Nora nodded slowly, still not breaking their stare, as he slid his hand from over her mouth.

She allowed herself to blink. Then, trying not to let her voice crack, she quietly said, “H-How did you know I’m a doctor?” Stupid stupid stupid. You are an idiot Nora Hawthorne.

Joker let out a breathy giggle and Nora’s gaze then fixated on his mouth. His scars. They were even more striking up close. Nora was no stranger to stitching up wounds and these must have been awful. She didn’t want him to see her eyeing them so she shifted her eyes back up to his.

“Who else would be here this la-te, hm?” Nora couldn’t do anything but open her mouth and shake her head, her eyebrows knitted together with anxiety.

Still bracing himself against the building on his left hand planted on top of the door he said, “Enough with the formalities doc. I am in need for some, uh, assistance, you see.” It was then that the doctor noticed the Joker’s breathing. It was shallow and rather fast. Like he couldn’t catch his breath but was trying to. Oh shit, what does he mean by that. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice his labored breathing until now. She supposed being paralyzed with fear would do that to a person. Nora watched as the Joker then lifted the flap of his coat from his right side, revealing a two inch wide piece of glass sticking out from between his ribs. There was blood trailing from it, down his green vest. She gasped. He dropped the fabric and grabbed her by the chin, jerking her head so her eyes met his yet again.

“So, my little doctor, youuu are going to provide said assistance-ah,” he growled. Nora’s eyes grew even wider.

“Wait wait, what? No no I’m a veterinarian, I’m not a human doctor,” she said in a panicked voice. Yeah, nice one, Hawthorne.

“I can read, doc,” the Joker said, gesturing to the painted door that read Gotham City Veterinary Urgent Care. “I know you’ve got what I need in that pretty little head of yours.” He tried to stifle a gasping sound from his throat as he attempted to inhale before speaking again. “I am an animal after all aren’t I, hm?” he said, leaning his head forward and bouncing his eyebrows suggestively. Nora was stunned.

“Why me? Why did you come here for help?”

“Can’t quite go to the emergency room, can I doc? Besides, you take care of little doggies and kitties all day. Just think of meee as a lost little, uh, puppy,” he said, shifting his weight to put his knife-wielding right hand against the door on the other side of her head so Nora was trapped beneath him, their noses inches apart.

Fear bubbled its way up into her head again. She couldn’t think straight. How did Gotham’s most notorious criminal end up here, in front of her, with a life-threatening injury? It didn’t matter how, it only mattered that now it was happening. But, how could she justify helping the Joker? He caused so much death and destruction to this city, her city. She could do her best to fight, she might stand a chance against him in this weakened state. But he was the Joker. He’d probably still be able to slit her throat faster than she could get out from under him. He was the Joker but he also was a person. A person in what she was sure was a significant amount of pain. Another gasping sound made its way out of Joker’s mouth.

“Haven’t got all night, doc.”

Nora’s expression softened. What the fuck am I getting myself into?

“Ok,” she said, lifting her keys and turning to unlock the door.

#joker fanfiction #tdk joker #heath ledger joker #joker x oc #fanfiction

[aiaz-marx]

Why failing your Kickstarter might be a good thing

Here is my little article about dealing with "failure" as an indie game dev. There is also a something about my #Jacksepticeye experience and Russian community.

I hope you find it useful or at least fun to read! :)

Originally published on Gamasutra.

This article is dedicated to all entrepreneurs, game developers, and just creative passionate people.

Is it a sad story about failure, or just another tale about recognition and success? That depends on what you take from it.

Okay, bear with me.

My name is Aiaz Marx. Originally from Russia, I moved to Spain about 4 years ago and I’ve lived here ever since. Now I'm 20.

Last year I finally graduated from high school, but because of the economic situation in my family, I couldn't go to college. A normal person would try to find a job and hope to enter the next year, right?

Well, guess what? I was always far from normal. I decided to take the difficult path of becoming a successful game developer from nothing, in just one year! I know what you think. Don't be judgy.

So, I convinced my parents to give me this time and I started my journey.

Escape.

First of all, I had to improve my pixel art, coding and storytelling skills.

But the hardest thing for me to learn was to share my work and take critique for my games... and there was a lot of it. Believe me, being a solo dev in the Russian internet community is like surviving a zombie apocalypse.

So after months of trial and error, in December, I finally found a good idea for a game and escaped from my soviet bunker to Twitter and Tumblr.

It was a truly pleasant experience, and my small community was gradually growing. Soon I managed to find an editor and release my first demo on itch.io.

Recognition.

Two weeks later I received this life-changing message:

"Hey, just letting you know that Jacksepticeye just played your game."

This can't be true, right?! I immediately checked my YouTube feed and indeed... there it was - a full 50 minute long play of my humble 2D horror story-driven game!

My heart was pounding, my hands shaking.

I posted this on my Tumblr and in just a few minutes I somehow got a response from Jack himself!

Needless to say, it was HUGE for such a tiny solo dev like me.

Financial success?

A celebrity playing your game. Check!

Now it's time for Kickstarter!

I had it all planned out. My Tumblr and Twitter communities were growing fast. If I release a new demo, even cooler than the old one, and translate it into three languages, I would easily reach my $3,000 goal!

On June 1st I launched my game ironically called "Dead Dreams"... and it flopped.

Remember all these people who didn't believe in your success? They were right.

The next two days were some of the worst days of my life. I realized that my Kickstarter page looked very poor, as well as the game trailer.

I suddenly felt a crushing weight, as if a giant rock was on my chest. I couldn't eat. I was in constant pain and suffering from anxiety attacks. I no longer believed in my project or my abilities to make good games. I was disappointed in myself.  Nonetheless, I spent this time trying to fix my errors. I put too much work into this project and couldn't just let it die.

My worst fear was that this feeling could last forever...

Days like these, you'll need support, but please don't put your frustrations into public view. People may feel pity for you, but trust me, it will make things even worse and can irreparably damage your image. Instead, think about taking a long walk.

Acceptance.

On the third day, I accepted my failure and started to realize that it actually wasn't one! And I was finally feeling better.

First of all, the fact that your Kickstarter has failed doesn't mean your project is bad.

Take a fine look at their website and you're going to find a handful of great games which couldn't reach their goal. You're not alone!

A successful project’s average goal is $5,000 and the truth is a lot of them were funded by the financial support of the creator’s family and friends. In many cases, the creators themselves will pledge a significant amount of money to save their campaign.

So if you're like me and can only count on your community - chances of failing are much higher.

Realization!

The dream of becoming a game developer has changed me for the better, regardless of the results of my Kickstarter campaign.

Through this experience I learned to:

accept critique and share my work with other people

organize myself and schedule my workday

manage the community and promote my product by reaching out to regular users, YouTubers, artists, game developers, and other amazing people!

Don't forget, your followers are here to stay! And now you have a bunch of friendly contacts who could help you out in the future.

But most importantly this "failure" made you stronger. You reached the bottom but managed to heal your wounds, learn from your mistakes and get back on track! Be proud of it! Don't depreciate this experience!

So now you're back on track, but really it's just the beginning of your journey!  

I recommend that you don’t get too fixed on your project and take some time off to think it all through all over again. Let's take another long walk.

Do you still want to finish it?

Here are some options:

Relaunch.

Patreon. A friendly, pressure-free environment for small creators like you!

You can also try to find a publisher!

It's hard to be a solo dev. When you have an experience like this, perhaps it's time to think about working with other people. Reach out to your contacts, maybe they could use some extra help. And if you've got an idea for a new project - build your own team!

Conclusion?

Of course, after all, this is just my experience, but I hope you’ll find it helpful.

I'm still working on the game and there is no pressure, just enjoyment. I wish for you to feel the same.

I'm 20 and my dreams aren't dead. Pun intended :)

#rpg horror #rpgmaker #RPG Maker #jacksepticeye #gamedev #indiedev #game developers #kickstarter #crowdfunding

[festingerbhw]

Struggling With Wordpress? These Top Tips Can Help!

Check out add-ons to find simple tools that will make your site or blog better. For example, you could add a calendar to your side menu bar in order to share events that would be interesting to your readers. You can also find many great add-ons that provide control for advertising, turning your site into a revenue maker.

Remember to make your sidebar as concise and clean as possible. You don't want it to be full of 100 links, ads and buttons. Instead, only put what is important in your sidebar and, if you need more links, put them into submenus which appear when the user mouses over your main menu.

Do not let your theme get stale. The first thing you should do if you notice a decrease in traffic is to check and see when you last changed your theme. As your site grows and changes, the theme should as well. Make sure that it accurately reflects your brand, and you should see a rise in traffic.

WordPress is great for adding video elements to blogs. It might require a little extra effort, but it's definitely worth it. Video blogs are perfect for Internet users who are visual. Videos can convey things words cannot, so they are very useful.

Make a schedule when you wish to start posting. By developing a schedule, you will remain motivated. As a matter of fact, you can create your posts ahead of time and then use the WP scheduling feature to post them at specific times.

The posts that you make appear in the order you make them unless you specify. Changing the date is the first step to rearranging your list. The date is always on the top, right-hand corner of every blog post. Click on the date, change it and then save your post in order to change its position.

Images make your blog look beautiful; however, the images can also help your site rank higher among search engines. One of the easiest ways to do this is to add keywords to your title tag and alternate tags. Both of these tags should contain precise keywords in order to rank your site appropriately.

Wordpress has many keyboard shortcuts that make working with posts a snap. For example, ctrl-c allows you to copy text, while ctrl-x lets you cut it. Ctrl-v will paste it somewhere else. Ctrl-b is bold, ctrl-i is italic and ctrl-u is underline. These basic keyboard shortcuts will save you a lot of time if you memorize them.

Want to change authors on a post? Just edit the post and click on "Screen Options". Next, choose the Author and then choose whomever you want to become the author of the post. Next, click "update" or "publish" to finish the change and have it go live on your website and you're done.

If you want a post to stay at the top of the page, there is no need to set it's date way in the future any longer. Instead, go to the post and click on Edit under Visibility. Choose the option which allows you to make the post sticky and enjoy it!

Titles and targeted descriptions are important. When prospective visitors use search engines to find your pages, these are among the first things they see. Therefore, they are crucial to your site.

Scribe, which is SEO software, allows you additional control over such WordPress issues. This allows you to attract additional viewers by editing the items that appear on your pages.

Back up your blog on a regular basis. This has to be done regularly. Use one of the plugins available such as Xcloner for your WordPress. Utilize the plugins or sites you like most for your blog, but take care to do backups in multiple locations. Losing every part of your blog would truly be a nightmare.

If you want to have a landing page as the front page of your site, you will first need to create a "home" page and then a second page for your blog. Next, go into Reading Settings and click the static page radio button. Choose your home page for the front page and your blog page for the posts page.

There is little debate about the tremendous appeal of Wordpress among bloggers of all types. It is a terrific way for beginners to get their foot in the door, but it can also be used by more advanced bloggers as well, to great results. Keep the tips found above handy, and Wordpress can become a versatile tool that will be employed for years to come.

#wordpresss #useful

[bibliophilicwitch]

Alright, enough of you would like to see my likely long rambly post about my 3-day weekend away so let’s do this.

About a month ago a friend of mine connected with me and asked if I would be interested in a girls’ weekend because there’s a loud music festival that happens practically in her backyard every year and she didn’t want to be in town for it. This friend lives in Appleton nearly 2 hours away from me and we rarely have reasons to be in each others’ neck of the woods anymore so I don’t really visit with her much anymore. So when she asked I really wanted to say yes, but she just so happened to be suggesting a 3-day trip the same month as my 6-day vacation to travel to North Dakota to see family and attend my cousin’s wedding. We planned a budget accordingly and I just gotta be conscious of money the next couple of weeks.

The music started on Thursday and ideally we would’ve left town that evening, but I ended up being scheduled to work until 9 PM closing time at the pharmacy that night… of course. We had plans already scheduled for midday on Friday, so I had to pack everything before work and then left immediately from work for my nearly 2 hour drive and arrived at her house at about 11 PM. I listened to some of the first campaign of Critical Role - time well spent.

So our Friday morning was spent running a few errands and finishing prep to leave Appleton before heading out to Milwaukee including running her pup to a friends’ house, getting groceries, and picking up coffee to fortify ourselves. We headed out around 11 AM I think and arrived early for our massage in a Milwaukee suburb with time to spare. It was my first massage and it was pretty good other than too much on my neck which led to a light headache. I really should’ve said that it was hurting too much, but I wasn’t sure if it would or would not be beneficial as I had never had a professional massage before.

Our hotel was in Wauwautosa and we arrived a good two hours before check in so we went and got food at Dave and Busters which, for those that don’t know, is an arcade for adults - meaning there is a bar. It was fun, but 3 of the 5 games we played didn’t work correctly or at all and then it was time to head out. Kinda wish we had had the opportunity to go back for another hour since I had plenty of credits still and would’ve really liked to play Mario Kart and check out one or two more games. I did play a Star Wars game with the wrap around screen which was pretty wicked cool.

That evening, after we checked into our hotel and washed off our oils from the massage, we went to a suburb to participate in a Paint and Sip class - this one was a paint your pet class and they even had little gift bags with goodies for you pet. I picked a picture of Binx that was low lighting which they oversaturated so you could see both his eyes, but since they oversaturated the picture he no longer looked like a true black and white tuxedo but like he had shades of grey and black all over which would not have been my kitty. Since I was not following the picture exactly it was proving impossible to distinguish his features, so I gave up and just used my time to fill in the areas I knew I could and plan to ask another of my friends, who works with me for the library Paint & Sip classes, to help me finish it some time. No idea when that may actually happen since she is super busy, but I have plans that meant I was okay with my experience. Not thrilled since it was a $35 class not including our wine, but eh. Meanwhile my friend was frustrated because even though she asked a few times for help with colors she never got close enough to be happy with her picture. On top of that she had chosen a picture of her goofy dog with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, but they CUT OFF HIS TONGUE and then didn’t make the picture as large as they could’ve so she had a lot of negative space. She was unimpressed to say the least. At least our wine was good. Really the class should’ve had prerequisites such as having participated in their other classes to be sure customers would get the best out of their experience. They did see that I had not finished and were offering a free session to join their free paint classes for help finishing… which we couldn’t do since we both live too far away (in my case a good 4 hours). I do really wish it had been a more standard paint class with the fast blended background and straightforward foreground. Ah well.

We finished day one at the Cheesecake Factory, a first for me! My friend commented that she was never very impressed by their food and she wasn’t surprised do be unimpressed yet again (though I didn’t mind my food at all), but we finished off with cheesecake, obviously, and that was delicious. Unfortunately I forgot my leftover cheesecake at her house in Appleton.

Saturday was our busiest day. We started at the Milwaukee Public Museum which was excellent though it really is a whole day affair not the two hour filler we planned for it. About halfway through my friend started to get anxious about her car and concerned it had a ticket or had been towed and I think she was also just getting tired of being on her feet. I think I was overall more interested in the exhibits too and she seemed to only be truly interested in specific things. I’m also a reader and wanted to actually read some of the shit while she just breezed through exhibit after exhibit. Like I said, we really didn’t have the time, but it was disappointing to be rushed so much.

Then we went downtown to The Safe House which she had wanted to check out. She did not realize it was literally right downtown and there was some anxiety, but we made it! For those that have not heard of Safe House, it’s a restaurant where the servers are in-character as secret agents and guests are also secret agents. There is a password to get in and if you don’t know it you have to prove you aren’t a spy by acting out some silliness. The interior is a wild and zany pieced together hodgepodge with references to spies in popular culture. Guests are given a list of missions (clues) to wander about and try to figure out the password. If you figure it out you are able to get a discount on their merchandise.

It was more confusing than my friend was expecting and not as engaging as she had expected either. She was pretty sure she figured it out, but neither of us were really worried about the merchandise, so we just didn’t even bother. They had a pen listed that we both kinda wanted, but they didn’t have any in stock.

After that we went to the North Point Lighthouse which is a lighthouse museum and I really enjoyed that little attraction. After that we finally headed back to the hotel for a short break and to get bandages because she wore strappy shoes that were trying to eat her feet. We discovered there was some sort of convention going on so the hotel was packed and TOO busy for only two slow elevators.

Next we went to Water2Wine, a winery in a suburb that imports their grapes and then makes their own wines in house. It was cute and pretty decent, but we weren’t overly impressed tbh. Next door to the winery was a Half Priced Books which my friend suggested instead of going to Barnes and Noble in the mall. So we wandered around, which was the first time I’d been to a Half Priced Books, but she got bored relatively quickly and dragged me out well before I would’ve like saying I could go to Barnes and Noble instead and then if she got bored she could wander the mall. So then we ended up at the mall and I was ready to settle into browsing for nearly an hour before wandering around the rest of the mall until close, but again she dragged me out likely because it isn’t that fun to wander by yourself. I did pick up a book at both places, Of Fire and Stars and Spinning Silver. I could’ve stayed in the bookstore all evening and likely only bought the one book, but nooooo, I ended up in the game store and bought an expensive gorgeous metal dice set. Pft. I also bought macarons which I had never been able to try and the ones I got were disappointingly too sweet for me to enjoy. We were both ready to be done, so we grabbed Chipotle, another first for me, and just curled up with a little TV before bed.

Sunday we got brunch at the ludicrously hipstery Cafe Hollanders. Very good and excellent atmosphere, but I couldn’t get over how chique it was being. The cafe was located in this ritzy area filled with high end stores that neither of us could afford, but we wandered around and gawped at insane prices before heading out to the Milwaukee County Zoo which I have WAAAY too many picture of to share here, so just check out my Instagram. I mentioned a few times, because I was seeing merchandise, that we hadn’t seen the red panda and my friend said she thought it might be a seasonal exhibit. After I was home I checked… it wasn’t. We literally missed it and I kinda wanna cry tbh.

We left Milwaukee around 4 and I ended up home around 7:30, but I tossed some gas in my car, washed it, and ran to the grocery store first so idk exactly how long my drive was. Though not everything was amazing I still had a pretty damn good time, my friend on the other hand seemed to get bored and/or impatient and/or disappointed/frustrated on a regular basis and I swear she didn’t enjoy the trip nearly as well as I did which just makes me sad. I also realized that since the last time we had really hung out we have both changed. Whereas I am online a lot and am fairly socially conscious she was not and she made a few borderline racist jokes (okay, not really borderline at all). Nothing nasty, just those ingrained stereotype jokes that are just not funny when you recognize how hurtful they can be. It also became more apparent that our interests do not overlap much at all. Which is another post to ramble about later. I loved the lighthouse and the zoo and wish I could’ve had just a bit more bookstore time and arcade time. It was nice to get out of town and not think about work while getting to catch up with an old friend though.

#text #personal #general related #milwaukee trip

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 55

Meh so yeah another meh chapter but that’s fine. Its one step closer to the good stuff I know this arc has to offer. Either way I guess there are... decent parts about it... I guess. But whatever. Here ya go. 

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/175344462879/universe-falls-chapter-54

Chapter 55: The Stanchurian Candidate

FFVIE E MIZCPV, UBIUFKI EMC ELSILMS AIS'R NYPZ WFSXMUXDC L GSCDK ZV UAN ECSN AIGGMUC EZWPT UEJ LGSSRR ELF FRTO VJRFR ZYU NYK NVZ SE XPW XY JZLR!

Since he no longer had the portal to work on in secret each night, Stan had recently taken to falling into a much more regular sleeping schedule than he had been keeping for the past 30 years. Still, that additional sleep hardly did much to help his largely exhausted and aching bones, which was something he was acutely aware of every morning when he woke up, and this one was no exception to that.

“Ugh…” the conman groaned to himself as his eyes slowly opened. The comfort of his bed attempted to tether him down to it, but unfortunately he knew that with work to be done in the gift shop and the museum, he couldn’t just lay about all day, as much as he wished he could. “Alright, Stan, another day, another random body pain. Here we go…” With a steadying breath, Stan slowly lifted himself up out of bed, only to feel a rather tight arthritic ache in his back. Despite his small hiss of pain, the conman forced himself to move despite it, only to receive another unfortunate surprise in slipping into his bedroom slippers only to realize they were strangely soaking wet. “Augh! What the-”

Stan stopped short upon noticing the unmistakably colorful, glittery note lying on his nearby nightstand, one that just so happened to explain exactly how his slippers had ended up becoming saturated sponges: “Dear Stan, I needed something to carry milk in, so I used your slippers. Love, Mabel.” Somewhat disturbed by his niece’s unorthodox idea, the conman shuddered but still kept his milk-soaked slippers on all the same as he tiredly trudged to the kitchen to get some quick breakfast. He soon received another unwelcome surprise, however, as he flipped the kitchen light switch on, only for the bulb to bust out as soon as he did. With an exasperated sigh, Stan went to retrieve a replacement from the nearby cabinet, but instead of finding any lightbulbs, he only discovered an empty box and another note in their place. “Dear Stan, I used these to build a planetarium suit for Soos. Sorry! Dipper.”

Upon reading this, the conman couldn’t help but let out another angry groan as he crumbled the note, feeling quite inconvenienced as he prepared to head out to the store to buy new lightbulbs. Trying to make this trip out as short and painless as possible, Stan quickly retrieved a new box of bulbs and headed for the checkout, only to soon receive another aggravation in the form of the group of teens who had gathered in line behind him.

“Whoa, let’s not take this line,” Lee remarked to Robbie, Tambry, and the others in the group in a not very discreet whisper. “There’s an old person in it.”

“Pfft, yeah,” Robbie agreed, his arm slung around his girlfriend’s shoulder as he rolled his eyes. “He’s probably gonna pay with like, pennies, or war bonds.”

“Hey!” Stan snapped, fiercely turning around to face the impetuous teens. “For your information, I was gonna shoplift most of this!”

“Security!” the nearby cashier called out, having clearly heard the conman’s blatant confession. However, as far as Stan was concerned, he was more than ready for the trio of security guards already running his way.

“Ha! Smoke bomb!” he proclaimed, tossing one down that he always had on hand. However, the bomb didn’t end up erupting due to its long past 1996 expiration date, much to his continued frustration. “Aw, seriously?!” he exclaimed just moments shy of being tackled by the guards, who promptly forced him to pay for goods that would have been much easily stolen if not for his apparent tactlessness.

With the drive home being as relatively uninteresting as always, the conman couldn’t help but smirk even in spite of his earlier misfortune as he thought about his plans to tell Amethyst about the twins’ annoying shenanigans and his own failed attempt at shoplifting later on so that they could plot out a scheme to get even with those who had wronged them. However, those plan quickly fell through as Stan was hit was the all too harsh reminder that he hadn’t spoken with the purple Gem since the portal incident really. Based on the hints she had given him the last time they had seen each other, as well as what he heard from the kids, Amethyst was apparently still quite upset with him, but, for the most part, he didn’t quite understand. True, there had been plenty of times in the past when the two of them had had their petty differences, but never had the radio silence of anger lasted between the pair for this long. Of course, Stan knew that he could always follow up on the advice Steven had given him the other day and travel up to the temple to make amends with Amethyst himself. The only problem with that when it came to repairing their apparently tarnished friendship, the conman had no idea where to even start.

Even so, Stan put those thoughts aside as he arrived back at the shack, lightbulbs in tow and a small, relieved grin on his face as he headed to the kitchen once more. “Ugh, rough start to the day…” the conman remarked to himself as he looked down at the box of lightbulbs he was carrying. “But it’ll all be worth it when I fix that light bul-”

Stan stopped short in the kitchen doorway only to find the twins and Soos congregated around Ford, who was in the midst of, oddly enough, replacing the broken lightbulb. “Aaaaand… done!” the author proclaimed proudly, eliciting a round of relieved cheers from the kids and the handyman.

“Does anyone see this?” Mabel asked, throwing an arm out to Ford with a beaming grin. “This is what a true hero looks like right here!”

“I thought we were out of lightbulbs,” Stan noted, his already displeased frown growing at his brother’s apparent ‘heroism’.

“Oh, we were,” Ford acknowledged. “So I invented my own! It’ll last a thousand years and the light it emits makes your skin softer.” As the kids let out a round of impressed musing over this, Stan sighed in annoyance, something that the author didn’t seem to catch as he continued. “So anyway, where were you?”

The conman didn’t respond, instead making his disappointment rather clear as he dropped the lightbulbs he had just bought right into the nearby trash bin. A rather fitting place for them, he figured, since they were just as useless as he now seemed to be.

“Well, TV, at least you still appreciate me,” Stan remarked as he settled into his recliner before the television in the den. “Give me the good news.”

“This just in,” Shandra Jimenez announced on the news almost as soon as the conman turned the TV on. “The mayor is stepping down from office.”

“What?!” Stan exclaimed, startled by this very sudden news.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Dipper asked as him and Mabel entered the den, having heard their grunkle’s shocked proclamation.

“In a completely unexpected move, Mayor Dewey has officially announced his resignation this morning,” the news continued, showing the mayor himself give a speech. “In his lengthy tenure in office, Dewey was best known for the development of downtown’s “Dewey Park”, leading out in the “Great Handship Evacuation”, and putting town menace Gideon Gleeful behind bars, in actual adult prison. In his resignation statement, Dewey professed his belief that its time for Gravity Falls to be helmed under new leadership.”

“People of Gravity Falls!” Dewey proclaimed as delivered his speech to the rather bored crowd before him. “My family has been serving our fair town here for generations, ever since my great ancestor William Dewey pioneered himself as Gravity Falls’ very first mayor! His son followed in his footsteps, as did his son, and I followed after him to create the Gravity Falls we all know and love today! Now, I know how difficult it can be to say goodbye, especially to a mayor as charming and beloved as yours truly! But my days as your dutiful mayor must come to an end so I can really enjoy the finer things in life. Like spending my days practicing my swing out on the putting green or building expensive monuments dedicated to my legacy using tax-payers’ dollars. Speaking of which… I’m pleased to announce this!” The soon to be former mayor pulled the tarp off a nearby canvas, unveiling an artist’s rendition of a statufied monument featuring him and his trio of mayoral ancestors that had each presided over Gravity Falls in the past. “Mount Deweymore! Coming to a mountainside near you! Get your commemorative T-shirts, hats, and drinking mugs now!”

After this, the feed cut back to the newsroom, where Jimenez was currently leaning against her cohost, pouring out her joyous tears. “I-I’m sorry, its just… its been so long since we’ve had real news. I’m just so happy!”

As the anchor continued sobbing blissfully, her co-host was quick to fill in and finish the report. “There will be a town hall meeting this afternoon to discuss finding a replacement mayor.”

“New mayor, huh?” Stan mused thoughtfully, a smirk spreading across his face as a sudden idea came to him. One that could, perhaps, prove that he wasn’t so ‘useless’ after all. “Wonder who it could be…”

Like all news usually did, word of Mayor Dewey’s resignation spread fast throughout Gravity Falls, and as a result, most of its denizens turned up for the meeting in town hall that afternoon. By the time Stan, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos got there, there was hardly any place to sit in the rather tiny hall at all, though fortunately they found a seat thanks to Steven, who happened to notice them enter and immediately waved them over to join him and Greg.

“Hey, you guys!” the young Gem greeted the Pines as they sat down next to him. “Can you believe Mayor Dewey is retiring? It feels like he’s been the mayor of Gravity Falls since forever!”

“Well, ever since before I came here, at least,” Greg added with a small smile.

“Whoa… then that means he’s been in charge for a super long time, huh?” Mabel mused, aptly amazed.

“Uh… w-well not that long,” the former rock star chuckled, somewhat flustered by the implication.

“Dewey’s been the head honcho around here for too long if ya ask me,” Stan remarked, crossing his arms. “It’s about time someone else takes charge and starts running this town right for a change. And by right, I mean getting rid of that stupid van with that dumb giant head of his sticking up on the roof of it. Its literally the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen; and considering I run the Mystery Shack, that’s saying something.”

Almost as soon as the conman had finished his rant, Mayor Dewey took the podium up front to begin the proceedings. “Alright, everyone, settle down, its my turn to speak!” the gathered crowd quieted down at this, yet for some reason the mayor continued cautioning them to silence. “Ah ah ah! I said quiet down! And… thank you. Now, we’re here to choose a new mayor for the first time since I humbly took the position over from my father several years ago. I realize that the shoes I’m leaving behind are metaphorically very big ones, despite the fact that I personally only wear a size 8!” Dewey paused for a beat, waiting to get a reaction from the crowd to his joke, only to be met with awkward, understanding silence, prompting him to continue in exasperation. “A-anyway… According to the town charter,” the mayor pulled open a rather old scroll, one that released a good bit of dust and moths as soon as he unfurled it. “A worthy mayoral candidate is defined as anyone who can cast a shadow, count to ten, and throw his hat into the provided ring.”

Dewey motioned down to below the podium, where Sherriff Blubbs and Deputy Durland were placing a large hoop down onto the floor. Almost as soon as they put it down, however, the first hat fell into it, one that was boldly thrown in by a certain used car lot owner.

“Well now! I do believe I fulfill all the requirements!” Bud exclaimed, rising from his seat and surprising a good majority of the townsfolk by this unexcepted claim to candidacy.

“Wait, Bud Gleeful?” Dipper asked incredulously.

“As in, Gideon’s dad?” Steven echoed just as concerned.

“He looks good! Ya know, considering we threw his son in jail,” Mabel noted.

“That was a good day,” Stan remarked, leaning back into his seat with a satisfied grin.

“May I, Mayor?” Bud asked Dewey as he walked up to the podium.

“Be me guest,” the current mayor backed off, far more interested in selling his ‘commemorative mayor-mobilia’ off to the side of the stage than really spearheading this meeting any further.

“Now folks,” Bud began, addressing the crowd with a flair of southern sincerity. “I know our family’s had its fair share of whoopsie daisies in the past. But I’d like to make up for it by formally announcin’ my candidacy for mayor of Gravity Falls! Any questions?”

“Yes!” Toby Determined exclaimed, standing up with a microphone and notepad in hand. “Are you still in contact with Lil’ Gideon?”

“That’s a great question—I’m givin’ you 50% off a used car!” Bud quickly diverted, essentially taking all thought away from the Gideon question altogether.

“Fifty percent? FIFTY PERCENT!” Toby cried, ripping his notepad clean in half out of sheer excitement alone.

“In fact, everyone look under your seats!” Bud proclaimed as the townsfolk did so to find half off coupons placed under every one of them. “You get 50% off a used car! And you get 50% off a used car!”

“Wow, a colorful piece of paper?” Mabel remarked in amazement as she retrieved her own coupon. “He’s got my vote!”

“Guys, I’ve got a really bad feeling about Bud Gleeful as mayor,” Dipper said, rather aptly worried.

“I dunno, dude,” Soos remarked with a shrug. “Its not like we have a ton of good mayor options. Everyone in this town is a tad strange. Except, ironically, Tad Strange.”

“Hi, guys,” an exceptionally normal man sitting in the crowd greeted plainly. “Tad’s the name, being normal is my game.”

“Loving you, Tad!” Mabel exclaimed, pointing to him brightly.

“And I love bread,” Tad said, holding a slice of normal white bread up.

“Hm… oh! I have an idea!” Steven exclaimed, turning to Greg. “Dad, why don’t you run for mayor? You’re super wise and really dependable. I think you’d do a great job!”

“Aw, thanks, kiddo, but I don’t really know if I’m cut out for the whole mayor gig,” Greg said with a small chuckle. “Just cause I know how to play a mean guitar riff doesn’t really mean I know how to make budgets or pass bills. Plus, I don’t even have a hat to toss up there even if I wanted to.”

“Aw…” Steven sighed in disappointment. “Well… who knows? Maybe Mr. Gleeful really does just wanna make up for everything Gideon did and help the town out.”

“I doubt it,” Dipper remarked dryly. “It’s a shame Ford isn’t here. He’d run, and win! And be a great mayor!”

Up until this point, Stan really didn’t have too much to say about Bud’s unfolding, seemingly unopposed candidacy. However, upon hearing his nephew’s sentiment that his brother, of all people, would succeed at something like this above practically everyone else, including him, he found that he really couldn’t remain silent or inactive on the matter any longer. Especially considering the stakes at hand here if Bud really did end up winning after all.

“So, since everyone’s happy,” the car salesman continued with a warm, satisfied grin. “I’ll just take the oath of office now, sound good, Soon-to-be-Former Mayor Dewey?”

“Huh?” Dewey turned away from his cart of merchandise, apparently uninterested with the proceedings. “Oh, uh, yes, we’ll get to that in just a-”

The current mayor was interupted as another hat suddenly landed in the ring, a hat that was none other than an iconic red fez that unmistakably belonged to the conman who had just rose to the occasion. “Hold it right there, Bud!” Stan exclaimed boldly. “I’m taking you on!”

A collective gasp rose from the crowd at this, none of them having really expected any actual competition to come about, much less any from someone like Stan. Likewise, Dipper, Mabel, and Steven were perhaps the most surprised by this, all three of them knowing, despite the strengths that Stan did have when it came to things like showmanship, fraud, and lying, solid leadership didn’t seem to be among that list.

“Stanford?” Bud scoffed right off the bat as Stan marched up to the podium. “No offense, but you’re just some two-bit carnival barker! And your head is more ears than face!”

“Oh yeah?” the conman goaded crossly. “Well, your face is more fat… than… not fat!”

The crowd gasped once more upon hearing this slam, though needless to say that everyone present was quite engrossed in this newfound conflict for office, including Mayor Dewey himself.

“What do ya say, folks?” Stan turned to address the crowd brazenly. “Are we just gonna let Bud win? How about a real election for a change?!”

As opposed to a gasp, a rousing cheer arose from the audience, as several other townsfolk tossed their own hats into the ring just out of sheer excitement alone. While the conman doubted most of them would actually run, he was pleasantly surprised by the positive reaction, one that would hopefully continue as he set out on this daunting path to the mayoral office.

“Well, looks like we’ve got some competition here, folks!” Bud laughed, seemingly amicable. “Which I’m completely fine with!” However, as the crowd continued in their noisy frenzy, the car salesman’s tune quickly changed as he suddenly leaned over the podium and spun Stan around unexpectedly, his voice low and sour as he addressed the conman in almost a whisper. “I was gonna let bygones be bygones, Stan, but you just made a powerful enemy. I’ll win either way, and when I do, you might not like the Gravity Falls you wake up in!” Bud finished this rather ominous threat off by punching a hole right over the Mystery Shack in the large map of Gravity Falls hanging on the wall behind him. While Stan wasn’t that phased by this, the kids certainly were as they all let out quiet gasps of fear as the crowd began erupting into a round of wild, excited chanting.

“Election! Election! Election!”

“A-and don’t forget to buy your exclusive, limited edition Mayor Dewey pins on the way out!” Dewey attempted shouting above the crowd as they began to file out of the hall. “While supplies and my remaining tenure as mayor last!”

“Let the madness begin!” Sheriff Blubbs exclaimed as him and Durland set off the old, rusty canon near the hall’s entrance, officially signifying that the race for the next mayor of Gravity Falls had indeed begun.

“Wow, Mr. Pines,” Greg remarked, heading up to meet Stan up front along with the kids. “I never thought I’d say something like this, but good luck in running for mayor!”

“Luck?” Stan scoffed. “Please, Greg, I don’t need luck. I got plenty of charisma to carry me through this election. At least more than some obnoxious hick like Bud does.”

“Uh, Grunkle Stan, what are you doing?” Dipper interjected, getting right to the point of his lingering concern.

“Running for mayor!” the conman reiterated. “Did I… did I not make that clear?”

“Um… yeah, you did,” Steven acknowledged with a bit of an apprehensive, but still somewhat supportive smile.

“Grunkle Stan, its not that we think you can’t do it,” Mabel said hesitantly. “I-it’s just-”

“No, no, its ok, Mabel,” Dipper interupted before turning back to Stan and offering him the blunt truth. “We don’t think you can do it.”

Stan let out a bit of an exasperated sigh upon hearing this, but even so, he figured he’d be honest with his doubtful nibblings as he knelt down to their level. “Look, kids, Dewey randomly retiring like this got me thinkin’. I’m an old man, and I’m not getting any younger. My dumb brother’s research is probably gonna make him famous one of these days. And what do I have to show for my life? Do I really want ‘crooked grifter’ on my tombstone? How about ‘crooked mayor’!”

“Um, wouldn’t you want ‘honest mayor’ on your tombstone instead?” Steven asked rather tentatively.

“Come on, kid,” Stan rolled his eyes. “I may be a chronic liar while I’m alive but the last thing I want is to take a blatant lie like that to the grave.”

“Psst, you guys, we need to talk,” Dipper interjected, diverting Mabel and Steven as Stan continued detailing what few campaign plans he had to Greg and Soos. “I know Stan isn’t the best candidate. Heck, he’s even committing voter fraud right now.” He nodded back to the conman, who was currently trying to forcefully shove a large number of voting slips into the ballot box near the podium. “But Bud’s definitely up to something and we’re the only ones that can stop him.”

“You’re right, Dipper,” Mabel nodded affirmatively. “Besides, Stan has a kind-of charisma. How hard could getting him elected be?”

“Yeah!” Steven chimed in brightly. “Plus, who knows? Maybe Mr. Pines will actually make a really great mayor if he wins!” At this, the young Gem was met with a pair of very skeptical, doubtful glances from the twins, which was enough to quickly make him retract a bit of his idealistic confidence. “Or… maybe we could just get him elected and hope for the best from there?”

“That’s the spirit!” Mabel proclaimed, pulling out patriotic hats and stickers and slapping them on herself and the boys. True, getting Stan into the coveted mayor seat wouldn’t be the easiest task in the world, but considering the alternative, they had no choice but to try their hardest to see it happen all the same.

In only about one day’s time, the Mystery Shack had been completely transformed into the unofficial headquarters for Stan’s mayoral campaign. With ample help from Soos, Wendy, Greg, Candy, and Grenda the kids had produced a plethora of posters, buttons, stickers, signs, and flags, all of them bearing the same vibrant message of ‘vote Stan!’. A large part of the morning had been spent distributing these campaign promotions around town, but the afternoon had been reserved for something even more important than any of them: a radio interview that was set to be broadcast all throughout Gravity Falls. One that, if all went well, would give perspective voters the feel they needed as to what the conman was like and prompt them to lend him their much-needed support.

“Spread the word, pig!” Wendy quipped as she finished spray painting ‘Swines 4 Pines’ and ‘Bud’s a Dud’ onto Waddles.

“Come on, Lion, you gotta keep the hat on!” Steven urged his pink pet as he tried his hardest to position a campaign hat onto his fluffy mane. Of course, Lion hardly cooperated, instead opting to knock the hat off his head and bite down on it instead as if it were just a chew toy. “Lion, no!” the young Gem protested, trying in vain to pull it away from him. “Let go of it! We only had so many of those made. Lion!”

“Alright, everybody, eyes up here!” Dipper called, drawing everyone’s scattered attention towards the rather old document he had found for this exact purpose. “Ok, Gravity Falls’ elections are based on two events: the Wednesday Stump Speech, held on an actual… stump. And then the Friday Debate, wherein townsfolk throw birdseed at the candidate they like most. At the end, they release a ‘freedom eagle’, who will fly to the candidate covered in the most birdseed and bestow a ‘birdly kiss’ upon him, appointing him mayor.” A beat of confused silence passed at this as everyone took in the town’s rather bizarre election proceedings before Dipper finished, echoing their bewilderment. “I couldn’t make any of this up if I wanted to.”

“Man, who could have guessed that even the way this town elects is mayors is weird?” Greg remarked, somewhat bemused.

“Ok, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel exclaimed, beckoning the conman over to the phone she had just answered. “Are you ready for your first big radio interview?”

“I got my mouth, don’t I?” Stan deadpanned with clear confidence.

“Ok, you’re on with the candidate,” Mabel said to the radio station on the other line just as their segment on Stan began, one that Dipper, Steven, Soos, and Wendy were readily monitoring on the air all the while.

“You’re listening to Falls Radio: 24 hour news and bear rampage alerts,” the usual voiceover announced. “And now here’s the T-Man!”

“Hello!” Toby Determined greeted as awkwardly as ever before addressing Stan on the phone. “Candidate Stan, first question: How do you feel about the American flag?”

“Meh,” Stan shrugged with far too much honesty for the circumstances at hand. “I can take it or leave it, too many stripes. Next question.”

“What would you do to help educate our kids?” Toby asked next, carrying the interview right along.

“Ha, simple!” the conman replied with a broad smile. “Put them on an island and make them fight for dominance. Also, teach kids swears. That’ll bring them into the real world.”

Upon hearing this blunt tactlessness, just about everyone else in the shack looked to each other with apt worry, all of them knowing that Stan’s incredibly politically incorrect answers couldn’t possibly be helping to bolster his chances in the polls at all.

“What would you do about the crime in Gravity Falls?”

“Wait, do you mean crime in general, or just the specific crimes committed by m-” Stan stopped short as the line suddenly went dead as a result of Dipper cutting it just in time.

“Ok, interview’s over,” he said succinctly, knowing that he had just saved Stan from making things any worse in the nick of time. “Candy, what’s the damage?”

“Your approval ratings started at zero,” Candy reported, looking at a live feed of the polls on her laptop. “Now it’s a number less than zero.”

“You’re memeing fast and none of them are good,” Wendy added, holding up her phone to show a meme of Stan that read ‘one does not simply teach kids swears’.

“And the angry emails are already starting to pour in…” Steven noted, scrolling through his own phone. “Yikes, this one has just about every single word Pearl’s told me I should never say.”

“Look, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel began, calmly enough. “People are like smell markers, and you’re black licorice! Its not that you’re unsniffable. You just need to learn when to keep the cap on.”

“From now on, maybe you should just read our prepared remarks,” Dipper cautioned, handing Stan a short speech him and Mabel had collaborated on the previous night. However, despite their efforts, Stan simply laughed them off, pocketing the speech and dismissing it entirely in favor of his own charisma, or lack thereof.

“Heh, sorry, kids,” the conman remarked wryly. “I always say the words that come right outta my brain. If my head says that lady’s got an ugly baby, my mouth says, ‘hey, lady, you got one ugly baby!’”

“Oh boy… this is… pretty bad…” Mabel said to Steven and Dipper as soon as Stan had walked out of earshot. “At this rate, Grunkle Stan’s gonna lose for sure!”

“W-well, we can’t just give up!” Steven persisted earnestly. “Maybe we just need to come up with a new plan to help him win! Like getting some outside help from someone who-”

At that exact same moment, both Steven and Dipper gasped, their eyes widening in timely realization with two drastically different thoughts in mind. “I have an idea!” both boys exclaimed at the same time, both of them equally excited, though their hasty unison continued even still. “Oh! So do I! That’s great! Be back in a while! See ya!”

And with that, both boys ran off in opposite directions to enact their newfound ideas, leaving an aptly amazed Mabel behind in wake of their unplanned yet almost perfect synchronization. “…What just happened?”

“And he’s insisting on speaking his mind!” Dipper finished detailing the disaster that was Stan’s campaign so far to Ford, who had been leafing through one of his journals throughout most of the story, though he had listened intently all the same.

“So, this is an emergency,” the author noted, realizing the severity of the situation. After all, if anyone knew just how callous and loose with his words Stan could be, it was him.

“The Stump Speech is in a couple of days,” Dipper continued, not even hiding how worried he was. “And if he continues like this, we’ll lose to Bud for sure!”

“Hm… it’s a shame there isn’t some device that will allow you to control someone else and stem the tide of any offensive or uninformed remarks they could possibly make…” Ford mused before reaching a quick realization. “Oh, wait. Of course there is.” The author turned to the desk behind him and pulled out something that Dipper hadn’t really expected: a patriotically striped tie with a small golden dial attached to the front of it. “A long time ago, I designed a prototype for Ronald Regan’s masters,” Ford explained, handing the device over to his nephew. “Just get Stan to wear this, and you can make him a literal talking head.”

“Whoa…” Dipper said, astonished as he peered inside the tie to see a complex array of circuitry hiding within it. “This is amazing! And ethically ambiguous!”

Ford nodded, pulling out another, much plainer tie to go along with the mind controlling one. “As long as you wear the matching one, he’ll say and do whatever you want him to.”

“This is perfect!” Dipper exclaimed, excited at the new, much more safer angle they’d be able to take with this tie factored in. “Thank you, Great Uncle Ford!”

“Yes, yes!” Ford turned back to his work as he waved his nephew off, apparently unconcerned with the somewhat concerning implications of the device he had just given him. “Use it responsibly and all that.”

“And if we don’t help Mr. Pines win, then Gideon’s dad will be the new mayor! And who knows what’ll happen then!” Steven finished his own explanation of the recent happenings, his tone quite worried as he looked desperately to the Gem he had detailed this all too. Unfortunately, she seemed to be far from worried herself as she reclined on the couch, trying her best to block the young Gem out entirely.

“And I should care about any of this… why?” Amethyst asked, her expression set in a cold scowl as she kept her eyes closed and her manner bitter.

“I just told you why!” Steven pressed. “Gideon’s dad? Becoming mayor? Doesn’t that worry you at least a little?”

“Not really,” the purple Gem shrugged. “Besides, even if I did care, why would I wanna help Stan with anything anyway?”

“B-because you guys are best friends!” Steven implored, trying his best to hide the fact that his reasoning for asking Amethyst for help was twofold. Not only did he want to get some much-needed assistance in helping Stan win the election, but he knew that the pair had been at ends for quite some time now. And perhaps a chance to work together like the infamously well-suited team they were once more would be just what they needed to repair the usually strong bond between them. The only problem was getting Amethyst to agree in the first place. “I just think you’d make a really great running mate for Mr. Pines. I mean, you’re one of the Crystal Gems, a protector of Gravity Falls! A lot of people around here really do respect you guys and the things that you do. If adding you onto his ballot doesn’t help boost his ratings, I don’t know what will!”

“Ugh…” Amethyst groaned loudly, rolling onto her stomach. “Steven, this is a dumb plan, and its not gonna work. Nobody’s gonna wanna vote for Stan because nobody can trust him. I know I don’t…” she said in a rather low mutter. “At least not anymore…”

“But… b-but…” Steven stammered, stammering as he realized his ship was sinking fast on this and he had to do anything he could to save it. “But Mr. Pines could really use your help!”

“Oh he does, huh?” the purple Gem deadpanned harshly. “I guess that’s why he asked me to help him with that stupid portal, right? Oh wait, he didn’t. He didn’t even bother to tell me about that, did he? Cause why would he actually be honest for a change, even with me?!” With this angry exclamation, Amethyst rammed her fist into the wall closest to her, the bang rattling throughout the entire house and leaving a dense, anxious silence in its place.

It took Steven a moment to fill this silence, but when he did, his tone was solemn and sincere as he offered the purple Gem a sympathetic frown. “Amethyst… if all this is really about what happened with the portal… then why don’t you just go tell Mr. Pines about how you’ve been feeling instead of just staying up here by yourself and being angry about it? For you know, talking about it might help you both finally feel better.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Amethyst sighed, turning away from the young Gem. “Stan conned everyone for years, including me. ‘He’s the one person I really feel like I can be myself around’, ha, sure,” the purple Gem sardonically echoed what she had declared to her teammates in the portal room. “Problem with that is that he was never actually himself around me or anyone else for that matter. So why would he try and start being honest about things now, just cause he wants to be some big important mayor or something.”

“But he just wants to-”

“Forget it, Steven,” Amethyst huffed, hopping up from the couch to head into the temple. “I’m not helping him. Not now, not ever. I’m not as dumb as you think. I don’t need someone like Stan leading me on and lying to me and pretending like nothing’s wrong when just about everything is wrong. Especially now…”

Steven hesitated upon hearing this, a part of him wanting to leave Amethyst alone with her feelings that she clearly still needed to work through. But another, more persistent part of him had a feeling that getting her on board with this election campaign would help everyone in more ways than one. “Amethyst, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me with no choice…” the young Gem began, his tone serious for a moment before he suddenly leapt at the purple Gem, clinging onto her leg and keeping her from making any further progress towards the temple. “Please help us!” he wailed, forcing tears as he kept his hold on her leg, even despite her attempts to shake him.

“Ugh, Steven, cut it out!” Amethyst exclaimed hotly. “Let go of my leg, you little weirdo! I already told you I’m not doing it!”

“But we need you!” Steven begged morosely. “If you don’t want to do it for Mr. Pines, at least do it for it for me, Dipper, and Mabel!”

“No, I’m not gonna do it for anyone!” the purple Gem argued back crossly.

“Pleeaaaaase?” the young Gem pleaded relentlessly. “I’ll do anything! I’m on my knees, begging for your help, and you’re the only one I can go to for this!”

“Says who?” Amethyst grunted, struggling to continue on to the temple.

“Says me!”

“Augh, Steven!”

“Amethyst!”

“Steven!”

“Amethyst!”

“Steven!”

“Amethyst!”

The purple Gem snapped around to fire another aggravated retort at the young Gem, only to stop short upon seeing the absolutely tearful expression on his face, one that made her anger start to melt almost immediately. “Oh come on…” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You know I can’t say no to that dumb face…”

“So… you’ll help?” Steven ventured, still keeping the waterworks on for good measure.

For a moment, Amethyst said nothing, her scowl lingering as she crossed her arms and looked away. Steven briefly thought he’d have to resort to continued begging once more, but fortunately, the purple Gem’s ongoing resistance finally folded as she let out a deeply annoyed sigh of acceptance, knowing that, as far as the young Gem was concerned, she really had no other choice. “Ugh… fine… I’ll be Stan’s ‘running mate’, whatever the heck that means. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

“I won’t!” Steven chimed, instantly back to a wide smile as he jumped up off the ground, no signs of his former desperate tears whatsoever. “At least not at first. Who knows? Maybe that’ll change after you and Mr. Pines get back into the swing of being a team again.”

“Yeah, no, I seriously doubt that, Steven,” Amethyst remarked begrudgingly following the young Gem out the door to head down to the shack, though not before letting out a small, wistful sigh to herself all the same. “I seriously doubt that…”

“Make sure to get my good side, Soos,” Stan said as he posed for the array of campaign photos Soos was in the middle of taking. “We’re gonna need to show it off as much as possible since apparently the kids think I bombed the radio interview earlier.”

“I think you did a pretty good job, Mr. Pines,” the handyman said earnestly as he snapped another photo.

“You’re darn right I did!” the conman exclaimed. “Those runts don’t know squat about how a real politician gets it done. If the people want ‘honesty’ and ‘transparency’, then I’ll knock ‘em upside the heads with both of those things until they can’t see straight and they check my name off while they’re dizzy and voting!”

“Whoa… that strategy’s gotta be ahead of its time!” Soos complimented, duly impressed.

“You can say that again,” Stan grinned. His ongoing photo session was soon interupted, however, as Steven came bounding down from the temple, calling out for Stan all the while.

“Mr. Pines! I have some great news!” the young Gem exclaimed, coming to a stop beside Soos.

“I already won the election?” the conman guessed with a surprised smile. “Ha! I knew that bit about putting kids on an island to fight to the death would win people over!”

“Um… no, actually,” Steven frowned briefly before quickly perking up. “The good news is that I found a running mate to help you win the election!”

“A running mate, huh?” Stan raised a curious eyebrow. “Well… I guess that couldn’t really hurt anything at this point. Who exactly did you have in mind, kid?”

“Well, I-” Steven was cut off as Amethyst suddenly plopped down to the ground beside him seemingly out of nowhere.

“Yo,” she deadpanned, not to Stan, but more to Steven and Soos than anyone else. All the same, her manner was still annoyed and cross as she all but averted the conman’s rather surprised gaze.

“Aw, Amethyst! You ruined the surprise!” the young Gem pouted. “I was gonna make this big huge announcement and everything, but you came in too early!”

“Oh well,” the purple Gem shrugged, completely unconcerned as she crossed her arms and glared at the ground.

“Uh… h-hey, Amethyst,” Stan greeted almost hesitantly, offering her the sincerest smile he could muster. All the same, Amethyst didn’t really respond to it outside of a cold, apathetic nod, entirely rebuffing his meager attempt at friendliness and showing that she wasn’t really interested in it altogether.

“Um… w-well its really great to see you two talking to each other again,” Steven commented apprehensively. “The only thing we’re missing here his the whole… ‘talking’ part…”

“Steven!” Mabel suddenly interupted, poking her head around from the other side of the shack. “Come here! Dipper wants to show us something! Soos, you come too!”

“Oh my way, dude!” Soos called, already heading over.

“Me too!” Steven exclaimed before briefly turning back to Stan and Amethyst. “Um… why don’t you guys take some time to… plan out a campaign strategy or something like that? You know, maybe put that awesome teamwork you guys are so famous for to some good use?”

“Yeah, whatever, Steven,” Amethyst huffed dryly, not even paying the young Gem’s brief concern any mind as he hurried off to catch up with the others.

“So…” Stan began with a bit of an awkward cough after Steven had left. “The kid roped you into this whole election thing, huh?”

“Guess so,” the purple Gem shrugged again, still not meeting the conman’s gaze.

“Well, uh… glad to have you on board,” Stan said, trying his very best to not step on Amethyst’s toes, especially not now. “You wouldn’t happen to know a sure fire way to get people actually like me, would ya?”

“Not when it comes to you, I don’t,” Amethyst replied, her tone completely humorless when humor usually would have been.

Even so, Stan let out a small, anxious chuckle, one that was rather forced, even though he tried to play it off like it wasn’t. “Heh, r-right…” A somewhat lengthy, somewhat uncomfortable bout of silence followed after this, one that was more than enough to prompt the purple Gem to turn and leave for the time being. However, before she could really slip away, Stan happened to stop her really only on a whim and little else. “Uh, Amethyst, wait,” he began, hesitating as she stopped but didn’t turn to face him. While the conman wasn’t one to find himself at a loss for words that often, he certainly was now as he realized he had absolutely no idea how to convey what he’d been wanting to say to the purple Gem for quite some time now. So instead, he went with the only other thing he could really think of at the moment: callous humor. “Uh… you wanna teach some kids how to swear?”

At this, the purple Gem’s shoulders dropped as a result of not receiving what she wanted to hear and without another word, she left, leaving the still quite uncertain conman behind. “Oh, um… I-I… I guess not…”

“Whoa, thanks for the slamming tie, dudes!” Soos exclaimed to the kids as he unknowingly fixed the mind-control tie to the front of his shirt. “These stripes are so slimming!”

“So wait, I still don’t understand,” Steven remarked as the handyman walked out of earshot. “How is a tie supposed to help Mr. Pines win the election?”

“Like I said, Steven, it’s no ordinary tie,” Dipper reassured, handing its matching other over to Mabel. “Flip the switch and see what I mean.”

Mabel did so, putting the tie on and pressing its button. Almost as soon as she did, Soos seized up from his spot in the yard, his expression just about completely blank until his movements began to mimic Mabel’s just about perfectly, even as she decided to experiment a bit by breaking into song. “Oh-oh-oh! I’m a dancing dude!” she sang and the handyman sang right along with her, dancing perfectly in sync as she did. “I got some fancy moves and a bad attitude!” With this demonstration complete, Mabel flipped the tie off once more, laughing in apt surprise over how well it worked. “Ha! That was amazing!”

“G-guys!” Soos shouted up to the kids, back in control of his own body once more as he panted and sweated frantically from the prior experience. “S-something weird just happened! It was like I was outside of my own head! I’m really freaked out and-”

“I am Soos-tron,” the handyman quickly interupted himself, Mabel using the tie on him once again for another short test run. “Watch me eat this pine cone!” With that, she pretended to pick up  a pine cone off the ground and eat it whole, something that Soos actually did until Mabel turned the tie off once more, resulting in the handyman going into a distraught frenzy once more.

“Oh my gosh!” Soos cried shakily, collapsing to his knees. “My entire life just flashed before my eyes! W-what’s going on?!”

“Wow! Mind control is awesome!” Mabel quipped, very impressed by incredibly technology.

“I know, right?” Dipper readily agreed. “With this, we can get Stan to say anything we want to. There’s no way we can lose to Bud now!”

“Um… I don’t know, you guys…” Steven spoke up hesitantly. “Using that tie to control everything Mr. Pines says and does… seems kind of wrong…”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Steven,” Dipper countered evenly. “Letting Bud win that election. If he does, then for all we know, he could end up letting Gideon out of jail. And after the whole giant robot fiasco that nearly got us all killed a few weeks ago, that’s something I’d really rather not see happen.”

“Ditto,” Mabel added, sticking her tongue out at the mention of the child psychic who was likely still completely obsessed with her.

“I-I… I know…” Steven frowned apprehensively. “But I still think there’s gotta be a better way to get Mr. Pines elected than mind controlling him with that tie…”

“Well, I think we should use it.”

The kids all let out a shared gasp as Amethyst rounded the corner of the shack, her arms crossed and a hint of a sly grin playing on her expression. “A-Amethyst!” Dipper exclaimed, quickly hiding the mind control ties behind his back. “Uh… how much of that did you see?”

“Enough to get the gist of you guys’ plan,” the purple Gem remarked casually. “And I want in.”

“What?!” All three of the kids looked to her in surprise, none of them having expected her support on this idea given her usual camaraderie with Stan.

“B-but why?” Steven asked fretfully, alarmed that Amethyst would be alright with this.

“Cause its like you told me,” the purple Gem leaned against the side of the shack. “Stan needs all the help he can get to win this mayor thing, right? Well then, the way I see it, if ya got some weird tie that’ll take control of him and keep tabs on that runaway mouth of his, then we might as well use it.”

“That’s the whole idea,” Dipper nodded in stern agreement. “This tie is our best bet to getting Stan voted in as mayor. There really better route to go here, at least not one I can think of.”

“B-but-” Steven attempted to interject but Amethyst cut in first.

“No more buts, Steven, except Stan’s in that tie,” the purple Gem remarked dismissively, apparently seeing nothing wrong at all with wrenching just about all control away from her once longtime friend like this. “We’re goin’ through with the plan and its gonna work great.” Though Steven was still largely against the idea, Dipper and Mabel both let out excited cheers, relieved to know that they could save the sinking ship that was Stan’s campaign after all. As they celebrated, however, the purple Gem tucked herself back into the shadows, her brief smile turning back into a petulant scowl, one that hinted at her true intentions for agreeing to this scheme in the first place. “And who knows?” she muttered to herself. “Maybe it’ll finally be enough to get Stan to admit he was wrong… even if it is technically against his will…”

Since Gravity Falls had had few mayoral elections in general, much less any in recent years, it was no surprise that many of its residents showed up for the “General Mayoral Stumpston Speeches”, which, as the town charter dictated, were indeed held on a large stump near the edge of the forest. As the early proceedings of the meeting were underway, Stan gathered backstage with his ‘campaign team’ consisting of Dipper, Mabel, Steven, and Amethyst, who seemed much more eager about serving as the conman’s running mate as she inconspicuously handed the mind-control tie over to him.

“Here,” she said, practically throwing it at him. “Wear this. It’ll make you look less like a chump. Slightly.”

“Ugh, I dunno, do I really have to wear this?” Stan raised an eyebrow as he begrudgingly put the tie on. “It looks like a flag threw up on me.”

“Grunkle Stan, just trust your lucky tie,” Mabel assured with a sly, knowing wink.

“And now, Stanford Pines!” the call from the main stage, and with it, the twins were quick to push Stan towards the curtain.

“You’re on, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel encouraged. “Break a leg!” As soon as the conman had made his way up to the podium, she quickly slipped the other controlling tie on, though as the group had planned, she refrained from turning it on, at least for the moment. “Ok, we’ll only jump in if he starts doing badly.”

“W-well, maybe he’ll do fine and we won’t have to jump in at all!” Steven said, still clearly anxious about this plan as a whole.

“Hiya, there!” Stan greeted the large crowd before him a bit too casually as he leaned against the podium. “Stan Pines here. Let’s get real. Do you think the women of Gravity Falls wear too much makeup?”

“Y-yeah, no, jump in! Jump in!” Dipper quickly urged, especially as a round of disapproving mutters rippled through the crowd.

Mabel quickly did so, switching the controlling tie on and using it to turn Stan’s rather disastrous opening completely around. “Uh, what I meant to say is… you ladies all look great! And have you done something to your hair?” the conman pointed to a specific woman in the crowd. “Girl, you are workin it!” At this, the spectating women in particular nodded their approval of Stan’s apparently genuine compliments, none of them knowing that they weren’t exactly coming from him even as he continued. “Anyway, I’m Stan Pines. You may know me as the guy who accidentally let all those bees loose in that elementary school a few years back.” As a result in Mabel’s relatively tactfulness in revealing that alarming anecdote, Dipper was quick to take action and swipe the tie away from her, putting it on and giving Stan’s ongoing speech a much safer, more patriotic stance. “But I believe in things: America, freedom, Ameri-freedom!”

A few sparse applause came from the crowd at this encouraging statement, and by now everyone was at apt attention as Stan continued, or rather the twins continued for him. “Like my opponent pointed out, I may not have a pretty face, but if you want a candidate that will listen to you, well, I’m proud to be all ears!” The audience erupted into supportive cheers at this, ones that only amplified as Mabel in particular decided that Stan was going to give the crowd a show. “Now, watch me break it down!” From there, the conman busted into an impromptu break dance, one that got the crowd even more excited to the point that they continued cheering even as Mabel turned the tie off and Stan wandered behind the curtain in apt confusion over what had just happened.

“Grunkle Stan, that was amazing!” Mabel exclaimed as the group received him backstage.

“Uh, y-yeah, I guess it was,” Stan shrugged, still somewhat out of the loop. “I just… sorta opened my mouth and spoke from the heart, or… gut or something. And what’s that sound? Why are people jamming their hands together?”

“Uh, that’s applause, Mr. Pines,” Steven explained with a bit of an apprehensive smile. “It means that people like you and what, uh, you said…”

“They… like me?” Stan asked, peeking out of the curtain onto to find that the crowd was cheerfully chanting his name in nothing less than unbridled support. Support that the conman didn’t exactly remembering garnishing, but was more than glad for all the same.

“There he is!” Toby Determined exclaimed, running up to the group backstage with a camera in hand. “Mr. Pines, can we get a picture?”

“Yes, we Stan!” the group exclaimed in bright unison, all grouping together and posing for a photo for the paper. However, as soon as Toby had left and no other passerby were in the vicinity, Amethyst casually leaned over to Mabel and made sure Stan couldn’t hear her as she dropped her voice down to a whisper. “Yo, Mabel, lemme see that tie for sec.”

“Ok,” Mabel shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with letting the purple Gem test the tie out as she handed it over to her. A mischievous smirk crossed Amethyst’s features as she slipped it on, using it to instantly take control of Stan amidst his satisfaction for how well his speech had gone. And from there, the purple Gem saw no reason to hold back from the lowkey revenge she had been craving for quite some time now.

“Heya, kids! Its me, Stan!” Amethyst mocked and the conman followed perfectly along with her overexaggerated tone and movements. “I smell weird, my hair cut’s gross, and I gotta eat a ton of ‘fiber’ and ‘vitamins’ cause I’m super old and crusty and lame. I got a bunch of freaky secrets cause I think it makes me look cool but it really just makes me look like a shady creep.”

“Uh… Amethyst?” Steven attempted to interject, sharing a concerned glance with the twins at what they were hearing the purple Gem make the conman say, but she outright ignored their worry as she simply continued her string of outright embarrassment.

“And now its time for my shady old man dance!” Amethyst continued, barely holding back laughter as she guided Stan along in a haphazard, wild frenzy of a dance, one that was nothing really more than a reckless lash of limbs that ultimately ended in a jump that the conman likely wouldn’t have been able to pull on his own accord. But to the purple Gem, the best part of it all was the resounding rip that came from the conman’s pants as she made him land in a clean split, one that elicited a wild gale of laughter from her while also prompting the kids to intervene.

“Amethyst, what are you doing?” Dipper asked in apt confusion over the purple Gem’s odd behavior. “That tie isn’t a toy! We’re only supposed to be using it to help Stan win the election!”

“And we already did that, ya dork,” Amethyst huffed, her laughter dying down a bit. “Since it worked so well, I figured I’d just play around with it for a second. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

“Uh… there might be seeing as how I’m not sure Grunkle Stan can really move like that anymore…” Mabel noted with a frown, nodding towards the conman who was still in a controlled split much like Amethyst was.

“Amethyst, its bad enough that we’re using the tie to control Mr. Pines at all,” Steven said quite seriously. “But using it to make him say mean things about himself is even worse. You’re one of his best friends! Why would you wanna embarrass and hurt him like that?”

“I dunno, Steven, maybe cause I just do, ok?” Amethyst shot back crossly. “You guys need to lighten up. This is the most fun I’ve had since Garnet and Pearl got into that big Sardonyx fight. Everything’s been a total drag since then, and this is the only time I’ve actually gotten to enjoy myself since it did and I at least deserve that after all this junk’s been going down, don’t I?”

The kids looked to each other hesitantly upon hearing this harsh question, all three of them knowing that they couldn’t very well argue against her on that point. With Garnet and Pearl at continued ends as they were, Amethyst was very likely the one most caught in the middle of a conflict she really had no part in, and as a result, things couldn’t be easy for her. But as she playfully, albeit mockingly controlled Stan, it seemed as though she found some sort of odd catharsis, one that lifted her spirits higher than they had been in quite some time. Would it really be right of any of them to deny her the levity she so clearly needed, even if it was rather crass and shameless and questionable on all accounts?

“Uh… w-well, we-” Steven began, but once more, Amethyst was quick to cut him off.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she abruptly concluded before launching Stan into another round of embarrassment, this time in the form of using the tie to make him comedically walk into a nearby tree over and over again. All the while, however, the kids watched on in growing worry, all three of them sharing the slightest feeling that perhaps Amethyst’s sudden barrage of mind-controlled pranks on Stan had less to do with a sudden need for arcane fun… and more to do with something else entirely.

Throughout the rest of the week, the election continued onward, and with it, Stan’s popularity steadily rose as the twins continued using the tie to maintain every one of his public appearances. The conman’s ratings in the polls skyrocketed as the kids made him spout out patriotic and positive morale, morale that was more than enough to garnish the support of the somewhat dim-witted residents of Gravity Falls generously give him their unbridled support. While it was true that after each debate and speech was said and done, Amethyst always made sure to have her fun in using the tie to discreetly embarrass Stan in some way, for the most part the conman was none the wiser, and neither was anyone else for that matter. The uneasy start to Stan’s campaign was all but forgotten as he quickly took the lead in the election, and by most projections it was clear: the conman was going to pull a miraculous win and more likely than not become Gravity Falls’ new mayor. A very real possibility that some took much worse than others.

“Augh! Darnit! Gosh hand huckleberry honeysuckle darnit!” Bud shouted as he slammed down the latest newspaper proclaiming Stan’s growing popularity among voters. The other members of his campaign team sitting at the table around him were all rather startled by the car salesman’s frustration, though given his rapidly sinking chances, it was rather understandable. “Erm, excuse my language,” Bud quickly apologized, using a pamphlet he had on hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Oh, this is bad! This is real bad! I-I need to speak with my campaign manager, please excuse me for a moment.” With that, the car salesman hastily retreated into the other room of his lot, locking the door tightly behind him as he anxiously turned to face the bright television screen before him. “L-look,” he began nervously, gripping his hat tightly in his hand. “I’m sorry about all this. This is a minor setback, but… w-we’ll win. I’m sure of it.”

“Minor setback?!” Bud flinched as his ‘campaign manager’ on screen swiftly spun around to reveal none other than the incarcerated child psychic himself: Gideon. “MINOR SETBACK!? You listen, daddy, and you listen good! Prison is a nightmare!” He shouted petulantly, throwing his fist down harshly on the table before him. “I eat the same slop every day! They have no hair products in here! I can’t sleep cause my cellmate took my pillow for a wife! You think I’ve been havin’ fun in here?!”

“Hey, best friend!” another prisoner cheerfully greeted Gideon as him and another inmate stepped into the frame.

“Don’t be late for friendship bracelet class!”

“I have finger painting at the same time!” Gideon fiercely shot back, tossing a book on the table at the prisoners and prompting them to quickly flee. “The mayor resigning is my one ticket outta here,” the child psychic continued addressing his frightened father. “Which is why you’re gonna win this election, pardon me outta prison, and we’re not gonna let the Pines OR the Crystal Gems get in my way again!”

“B-but you don’t understand!” Bud protested earnestly. “Stanford’s doin’ great in the polls! Its almost like magic!”

“Hm… magic, you say…?” Gideon mused as a sly, sinister smirk crossed his features. “Well, maybe its time to fight fire with fire! I’ve been savin’ this for a long time…” The child psychic said as he pulled a withered old page out of his large pompadour, one that he had managed to hold onto from journal 2, even after the book had been confiscated from him at his arrest. The page itself was an ancient incantation for possession, one that would allow the one who spoke it to magically and easily take control of someone else entirely. “I’ve just been waitin’ for the right moment to use it…”

“Now, boy, we’ve discussed this,” Bud cautioned as firmly as he could. “No more spooky spells.”

“Well, Daddy, maybe you just need to have more of an open mind…” Gideon smirked, not bothering to hear any more of his father’s legitimate concerns as he began to read the incantation. “Lleps live ykoops, lleps live ykoops, live ykoops!”

As the child psychic continued chanting, not only did his volume steadily rise and his eyes start to glow stark white, but the lights in the room Bud was in began to ominously flicker on and off before the bulbs busted entirely, much to his alarm. “Boy, s-stop that!” the car salesman pleaded, though he was unable to really resist the spell as he fell back and grabbed his head in pain. “A-anything but that! Augh!” Unable to fight back against the possession his own son was pushing upon him, Bud’s eyes began glowing the exact same white as Gideon’s, one final fearful scream escaping him before the child psychic took full control, finally ready to exact his vengeance upon both the Pines family and the Crystal Gems once at for all.

“Alright, team, listen up,” Dipper began, his tone quite serious as he addressed Mabel, Steven, and Amethyst as they gathered at Greasy’s Diner for one final campaign meeting. “Today’s election day which means we have to be at the top of our game at the debate this afternoon. I was thinking that I start things off by appealing to the voters’ sense of logic before Mabel comes in with a round of encouraging promises and politically correct jokes.”

“Ugh, do we really need to plan all this junk out?” Amethyst huffed impatiently as she put her head against the table. “Stan’s basically already won, we got this in the bag. Why don’t you guys just let me have the tie and I’ll give that crowd a real show for a change?”

“Considering how you used the tie on Stan after yesterday’s speech and made him break a pickle jar against his head, I think that’s… a pretty terrible idea, Amethyst, no offense,” Dipper countered sternly.

“Uh… I have an idea!” Steven hesitantly raised his hand. “S-since this is the last debate, maybe we don’t have to use the tie anymore. Its like Amethyst said, Mr. Pines is already gonna win, so… m-maybe we could just… not mind control him against his will this time?”

“Oh what, so he can just be free to ramble on about how he thinks handicap parking spots should be outlawed or how he wants to round up a task force to run every 3rd grader out of town?” Dipper remarked rather caustically.

“We really should keep using the tie, Steven,” Mabel rationalized much more evenly. “Just to play make sure Grunkle Stan actually wins this.”

“And to make Stan shove a bunch of leaves down his pants,” Amethyst added wryly. “Cause that’s my idea of winning.”

Steven let out a small, disgruntled sigh at this, his general uneasiness towards the tie idea still ever rising as he received an all too blunt reminder that none of the others seemed to really care just how wrong this all was. All week long, they had been wrenching control that was rightfully Stan’s away from him, all without at least letting him in on the truth of their deceit, and in the process, they were tricking not only him, but the innocent voters of Gravity Falls as well. Their entire campaign was built on lies and facades that had only been accumulating more and more with each passing speech. And as a result, Steven was getting to the point that he could no longer idly stand by his friends and accept this trail of trickery. Yet as outnumbered as he was against the twins and Amethyst on the idea, the young Gem wasn’t sure if there was really much he could do to change their minds, or really even put a stop to it at all. Unless…

“Hey-o!” As if right on cue, Stan burst into the diner, clad in a more casual suit than his usual one as he sauntered in with apt confidence for a soon-to-be-elected candidate.

“Stan!” the diner customers all greeted him back brightly, his popularity among them needing no introduction.

“Now just the ladies!” the conman called playfully.

“Stan!” the women in the restaurant chorused warmly.

“Now just the ladies my age!”

“Stan!” a single old woman cheered, much to Stan’s chagrin.

“Woof! Never mind!” the conman cringed before taking a seat at the table where his campaign team was gathered.

“On the house, Mr. Big Shot!” Lazy Susan exclaimed sweetly, setting a pile of complimentary pancakes before Stan before heading off with a supportive salute.

“Now this I could get used to,” the conman smirked, preparing to dig in to his free breakfast before Mabel hastily stopped him.

“Grunkle Stan, what’s with the outfit?” she asked, noting that his tan suit wouldn’t easy be accompanied by the mind control tie. “You’re missing your lucky tie.”

“Power tie, gotta wear it,” Dipper added succinctly and seriously.

“Aw, come on, have you seen the polls?” Stan asked, rolling his eyes. “I could debate naked and still win!”

“Huh, now there’s an idea…” Amethyst muttered to herself with a mischievous smirk.

“Heh, seriously though,” Mabel countered with a nervous laugh. “We need you to wear the suit and tie, Grunkle Stan.”

“Suit and tie, gotta wear it,” Dipper punctuated once again, this time more insistently.

“Ugh, why do you kids have to constantly tell me what to do?!” Stan exclaimed hotly, clearly annoyed by their badgering. “You don’t see Amethyst doing that, and she’s my running mate, for crying out loud! Its basically her job to boss me around!”

“I’d try but its not like you’d actually listen anyway,” Amethyst remarked dryly, letting out an exasperated huff as she did.

“Besides,” Stan continued just as admantly as before. “Everyone in this town is finally showing me some respect! Maybe its about time you kids should too.”

“Well, maybe we’d respect you if you took things seriously for a change!” Dipper argued rather crossly.

“I am taking this seriously!” the conman shot back, slamming his fist down on the table. “If you haven’t noticed, everything that’s come out of this golden mouth has put us on top. With or without your dumb advice!”

“Uh, a-actually, that’s not… completely true…” Steven interjected, much to Dipper, Mabel, and Amethyst’s shared alarm.

“Uh… S-Steven? What are talking about?” the purple Gem said with a forced, anxious laugh, one that quickly turned into a disapproving scowl.

“Yeah, kid, what are you talking about?” Stan asked, raising a genuinely confused eyebrow.

For a brief moment, Steven hesitated under the scrutiny of the twins and Amethyst, but even so, he wasn’t about to harbor this immoral secret any longer, especially since he was actually under pressure to finally reveal it. “W-we’ve been using a special mind-controlling tie invented by Mr. Ford to control you during every one of your speeches and that’s how you’ve been winning so far!”

“Steven!” Dipper, Mabel, and Amethyst scolded in unison, their well-kept secret now completely out in the open.

“What?!” Stan exclaimed, looking to the trio with apt shock and dawning anger. “You mean to tell me that you four have been stringing me along like I’m some kinda puppet all week?! And you weren’t even planning on at least telling me about it?!”

“No, we weren’t,” Amethyst answered coldly and honestly. “At least until somebody decided to blab about it.”

“I’m sorry, guys, but Mr. Pines deserves to know,” Steven said, not regretting his sudden reveal. “I know you just want him to win the election, but what you guys have been doing isn’t right, especially you, Amethyst.”

“So I used the stupid tie to pull a few pranks,” the purple Gem scoffed. “Its not like its really worse than anything I’ve done before, right, Stan?”

“A few pranks?” Stan repeated, quite confused before he let out a gasp of realization. “Wait a second… that rip in my pants the other day… that pickle juice that got spilled all over my suit last night… that was you, wasn’t it, Amethyst?!”

“I dunno,” Amethyst shrugged, unconcerned by her mischief. “Might’ve been. It’s not like you have any proof.”

“I have the fact that you just up and admitted to it a second ago!” the conman exclaimed harshly, sending the purple Gem in particular a bitter glare. “You know, it’s bad enough that my own niece and nephew don’t have any shed of respect for me, but I never would have expected something like this from you.”

“Oh yeah?” Amethyst countered, sitting upright as her manner turned even more hostile. “Well I never would have expected you to keep so many huge secrets from me, so I guess we’re both pretty disappointing, huh?!”

“Yeah, I guess we are!” Stan shouted back, standing up from his seat.

“Well, if I’m such a disappointment,” Amethyst began, jumping onto the table so she could be face to face with the conman. “Then why don’t you just go ahead and find yourself another running mate?!”

“I might as well seeing as how you’ve done pretty much nothing to actually help me in this election or with anything else for that matter!” the conman exclaimed with brutal honesty before addressing the kids as well. “In fact, I don’t need any of you! You can tell that know it all Ford that he can keep his fancy light bulbs and magic ties! I’m gonna win this debate on my own, without any of you!”

As Stan began to storm off out of the diner, Amethyst hopped off the table, shouting angrily after him. “Yeah, go ahead and do everything by yourself without letting anyone else in! Its not like that’s a huge change for you after the past 30 years, is it?!”

“A-Amethyst, where are you going?” Steven asked with apt concern as he noticed the purple Gem beginning to leave as well.

“As far away from Stan as I can get,” Amethyst growled bitterly. “I hope he loses that dumb election for all I care. Maybe it’ll finally be enough to take him down a peg for once.”

And with that, the purple Gem made her exit, leaving the kids behind in a state shared of worry and dread over just how sour things had turned, not just between Stan and Amethyst, but for their hopes of salvaging the election as well. “This is bad…” Dipper remarked with an apprehensive frown. “Really bad.”

“I know! Amethyst and Mr. Pines were really upset with each other,” Steven said fretfully. “I’ve never seen them yell at each other like that. It was terrible!”

“No, not that,” Dipper shook his head before pausing for a beat and correcting himself. “Ok, yeah, that was bad, but I’m talking about the election! If we want to beat Bud now, then we’ll need to find another candidate, fast!”

“What we need is a blank slate,” Mabel mused. “Someone totally suggestive! An empty piece of clay we can mold to our whims.”

“Hey, a little help, dudes?” Soos interjected as he came out of the nearby bathroom, a large sweater stuck to his head by the sleeve. “I accidentally got my head stuck in my shirt sleeve. Guess this is my life now.”

Upon the handyman’s entrance, both Dipper and Mabel exchanged a knowing grin, confirming that they had indeed found their new impromptu candidate to take Stan’s place. Steven, however, was not so immediately on board with this idea. “Uh, hold on a second, you guys,” he cautioned earnestly. “Before we repeat this whole mind control tie disaster, I think we should at least let Soos in on the plan first.”

“What plan?” Soos asked curiously as he peeked out from his sweater at the kids.

“We wanna use this mind controlling tie on you so we can make you say what we need you to so we can beat Gideon’s dad in the mayor election,” Mabel explained plainly and succinctly, holding said tie up.

“Is that all?” the handyman asked rather casually. “Sure, I’d be down for that, dudes.”

“Wait, really?” Dipper asked, exchanging a confused glance with Steven.

“Yeah, I got nothin’ else going on today,” Soos shrugged. “I could spare a little time to become the new mayor.”

“Uh… well, its… good that you’re ok with it, I guess,” Steven said with something of a relieved, albeit bewildered smile. Really, all three of the kids were quite relieved to have found a spare candidate at such a short notice to fill in for the now rouge Stan. Only time would tell if Soos would actually be enough to carry them to the sought-after victory that, by all accounts, they needed to get.

In order to capitalize on his currently under construction “Mount Deweymore”, Mayor Dewey had ordered that the final election debate would be held directly under the progressing monument. The soon to be former mayor himself was in the process of selling commemorative merchandise for the half finished mountain while other preparations for the debate were underway. Voters filed into the stands, picking up handfuls of election birdseed on the way in that they would eventually throw at their favored candidate to guide the ‘mayor picking eagle’ in deciding who would win and who would lose.

Among this large group, Amethyst discreetly slipped into one of the higher stands, making herself rather scarce as a result of not really wanting to be seen here. In truth, the purple Gem wasn’t quite sure why she had even bothered to show up to watch the debate in the first place. She honestly had very little investment in the election as a whole, and after her recent falling out with Stan, she really had no interest in offering him any signs of her support, at least not outright. At the same time, she hadn’t really shown up to watch his entire campaign inevitably crash and burn as a result of his own infamous tactlessness either. The reason for her attendance here was really just as much of a mystery to Amethyst as it would have been to anyone else, but she had shown up all the same which meant that the most she could really do was wait and see whatever was about to unfold here, however successful or disastrous it might be.

“Welcome to the final debate in what is sure to be, on a cosmic scale, a forgettable blip in human history,” Shandra Jimenez began to announce the debate both live and to her camera news crew. “Here come the two most popular candidates!”

Sure enough, both Bud and Stan climbed up on stage and to their respective podiums, the latter’s manner oddly cutesy and charming, even as he brightly addressed the conman next to him. “Oh, hello there, Stanford! Long time, no see! Tee hee!” he chuckled, playfully nudging Stan with his hip.

“Don’t you ‘tee hee’ me,” Stan scowled coldly. “I’ll debate you into the ground.”

“Oh, but I have a widdle twist up my sweevy-weeves,” Bud remarked coyly, his eyes glowing the faintest blue though the conman didn’t really notice.

“You are making me very uncomfortable right now,” Stan remarked, eyeing his opponent suspiciously.

“But what’s this?” Shandra Jimenez questioned as the crowed ‘ooed’ in interest. “One new candidate has entered the ring!”

“Wait a minute, what?” Stan turned to see Soos sauntering up onto the stage, the mind control tie fixed around his neck as he blankly smiled and waved to the audience. The conman stole a brief peek backstage to find the kids there, obviously using the other tie to control the handyman just as they had been doing with him thus far, much to his fury, especially now that they were using it against him like this. “Why, those backstabbing little-”

“Let the debate begin!” Shandra announced, ringing the nearby bell as the open round of questioning began.

“First question,” Manly Dan said as he rose to stand. “What’s your opinion on axes!?” The lumberjack paused, squinting to read what was on the question card before correcting himself. “Wait, I mean… taxes?!”

“Easy,” Stan began confidently enough. “Taxes are the worst! I propose we stimulate the economy by waging war on neighboring cities. We have the canons!” Upon hearing such an unsavory idea, the crowd wasn’t afraid to show their disapproval of it through a round of loud booing, much to the conman’s worried confusion. “Uh, I-I mean…” he trailed off, looking through his notecards for help only to find none as the crowd continued reacting coldly. From her high up seat, Amethyst cringed somewhat at the poor reception, shaking her head as she realized that Stan really was quite terrible at this on his own. Not that she had expected him to be that great at it in the first place, but still, he had apparently surpassed even her own low expectations.

“I don’t know much about taxes,” Soos started next, the kids taking turns controlling him backstage. “But I can promise you a kitten in every pot. That doesn’t make any sense, Mabel. You don’t make any sense, Dipper! Guys! Stop fighting!”

Though a ripple of confusion filled the crowd at this bizarre display, Bud was quick to fill it with a much more appealing rhetoric. “Friends, friends!” he addressed the crowd warmly. “Can’t you see what’s happening on this stage? These ‘politicians’ are dancin’ around the issues! Well… I can sing around the issues!” With this, the car salesman tore his normal clothes off to reveal a loud, sparkly leotard underneath it, one that had a small screen bearing the American flag attached to it. With a showy flare, Bud caught the guitar that was thrown to him and quickly jumped into an upbeat song and dance that easily garnished the excitement of the crowd. “Oh crime is bad! Crime is oh so bad! Vote for Bud and there ain’t gonna be no crime! Crime’s bad! Vote Bud!”

As the car salesman ended his song with a flashy wink, the crowd cheered happily, throwing their round one birdseed right into his bin, showing their approval, much to Stan’s concern, as well as the kids’ backstage as the debate went into a short intermission. “We’re getting eaten alive out there!” Dipper exclaimed fretfully, pacing in front of Mabel and Steven. “Since when is Bud… creepily adorable?”

“And how did he come up with a such a catchy song?” Steven wondered, just as bewildered. “Seriously, that’s gonna be stuck in my head all day.”

“It doesn’t make any sense…” Mabel mused thoughtfully. “He’s almost acting like… like-”

“Widdle ol’ me.” All three of the kids spun around with a gasp to find Bud standing right behind them, completely out of it as a result of the child psychic on his screen, who was controlling his every word and action even as far away as his prison cell. Gideon smirked smugly as he regarded the trio, all three of whom were immediately on guard as soon as they caught sight of him. “Aha! Hello there, Pines twins, Universe. Long time no see! Except in my revenge fantasies where I see you three on an hourly basis.”

“Gideon! I knew you were somehow behind this!” Dipper exclaimed admantly. “You’ve been controlling Bud!”

“And it seems you’ve been controlling Stanford!” Gideon countered knowingly. “I figured it was the three of ya. You’ve gotten much eviler since the last time I saw you.”

“Uh, just for the record, I really never approved of the whole mind control plan to begin with,” Steven said with an earnest shrug.

“Well, regardless of whose idea it was, I’m sorry to tell ya’ll that it ends right here, right now! Daddy!” Gideon snapped his fingers, ordering his possessed father into action. Before any of the kids could even have a chance to flee, the surprisingly strong car salesman rounded all three of them up, securing them tightly in his hold and toting them to the service elevator that led up to Mount Deweymore. Despite their cries of protest and intent attempts at struggling to break free, Steven, Dipper, and Mabel were unable to do so as Bud tightly tied them up together inside the hallowed out center of Mayor Dewey’s part of the statue, which just so happened to be where a majority of dynamite intended for the mountain’s construction was stored.

“Behold! Your grand view of the debate!” Gideon proclaimed smugly, commanding Bud to back away from the trio as they still continued to try and escape the ropes wrapped around them. “Once I win this election, I’ll finally rule this backwoods town!”

“You’ll never get away with it, you creepy little dork!” Mabel shouted fiercely.

“Oh, I’d be happy to spare you, Mabel,” Gideon said, sending her a flirtatious smirk. “If you agree to be mine. I even made you this wedding dress in crafts class!” The child psychic held up something that vaguely resembled a dress, though it could have easily been mistaken for anything else given its incredibly shoddy craftsmanship. “Don’t ask what its made of.”

“Ew, I’d rather die, you creep!” Mabel cringed, her longstanding disdain for the child psychic just as apparent as it had always been.

“Fine, have it your way!” Gideon exclaimed, resuming his formerly triumphant attitude. “Once I win, they’ll hit the plunger for the fireworks display, finishing the mountain’s construction and trappin’ ya’ll inside. I’ve been trapped behind concrete all summer; now let’s see how YOU like it!” The child psychic let out a sinister laugh as the kids let out a shared gasp of fear over the very present danger they were in. Say hello to the next mayor of Gravity Falls!” Gideon proclaimed with a final wicked laugh as he commanded Bud to leave the kids to their grisly fate. A fate that, by all accounts, they had no idea how to escape from, at least not on their own.

Everyone down at the debate itself, however, was completely unaware of the trio of trapped kids far above them, including Stan as he tried his best to salvage what little goodwill he had left with the visibly displeased crowd. “A-and that’s why, um… the Statue of Liberty is our hottest landmark,” he ventured, only to receive a resounding boo from the audience. “Alright, alright, she’s kinda manish. What do you want from me?”

As a result of Stan’s plummeting approval, the crowd readily tossed even more of their birdseed into Bud’s bin. The car salesman sent a smug smile at the conman, who still had no idea as to who was really pulling the strings behind his opponent’s campaign whatsoever. Even so, Stan let out a worried sigh as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, wiping the sweat from his pocket as he took a much needed breather. “Ugh, you’re dying out there, Stan,” he muttered to himself, knowing that the chances of him winning now were next to none. He did take pause for a moment to look towards the audience again, hoping for any single show of support at all, only to find none.

Or at least, none upon a first glance.

Because as the conman looked again, he happened to spot a certain purple Gem who had almost managed to blend seamlessly into the crowd. In fact, he only managed to notice her due to the solemn, almost sympathetic look she was sending him, one that startled Stan quite a bit given how harsh their falling out earlier had been. Amethyst was quick to look away upon being spotted however, crossing her arms and glancing down with renewed bitterness and also what appeared to be a hint of embarrassment, though it was hard to say given how far away she was. Even so, Stan sighed again, finally realizing just how much of a mistake he had made in his own stubbornness and folly. Because certainly, without the aid of the kids or even the purple Gem, there would certainly be no winning this election on his own. “You kids were right all along…” he remarked to himself, looking down at the speech the twins had written for him. “I should have listened to you when I had the chance. To all of you…” His expression was a bit sadder as he looked up towards Amethyst again, who actually managed to meet his glance with slight confusion, but plenty of sadness and remorse all her own.

However, whatever moment the pair might have had was abruptly interupted as a familiar, frightened cry suddenly rang through the air. “Help! Help us!”

“W-what the-?” Stan was the first to hear this cry that conspicuously sounded like it had come from Mabel. The conman swiftly spun to face the mountain towering over the debate, only to have his worries confirmed when Dipper cried out next.

“We’re strapped to a bunch of fireworks!”

“A-and they’re about to go off!” Steven added amidst the trio trying their hardest to shuffle out of the mountain cave through the one opening in the floor they could find. However, unbeknownst to them, it was actually one of the statue’s nostrils, and below it was nothing but a massive drop to the ground far below them. They were quick to discover this however as they slipped out of it, only managing to remain tethered to the inside of the cave by the rope that had tied them all up, though it was clear that it wouldn’t support their shared weight for too long. The townsfolk watching the debate were quick to notice the kids’ peril high above them as a round of fearful gasps and screams rose up from them all, including Stan and Amethyst.

“Kids!” the pair exclaimed in horrified unison at the very obvious danger the trio was in. Danger that was only amplified as the rope holding them up continued to whittle down more and more, much to their immense fear.

“L-Listen, everybody!” Stan quickly turned back to the tense crowd before him. “This debate is over! I gotta go save my family!”

“N-now calm down, everyone!” Bud tried to smooth things over, “Those, uh… those are just some… demolition dummies! Nothing to see here!”

“Can it, Gleeful!” Stan shouted harshly, fiercely tearing the sleeves off his suit jacket as he let out a fearless yell. Without a second thought, the conman rushed backstage, but he was soon stopped by none other than Amethyst as she raced behind the curtain after him.

“Stan, wait!” she exclaimed, every bit as worried as he was. “What the heck’s going on?!”

“It’s it obvious? The kids are in trouble!” Stan pointed up at the trio hanging by practically a thread above them. “Now come on, we gotta go save them!”

“…We?” Amethyst took pause, raising a suspicious eyebrow at the conman. “What, you mean you actually want help this time?”

“Ugh, seriously, Amethyst?” Stan groaned in exasperation. “We don’t have time for this!”

“No, of course, you never have time for this,” the purple Gem huffed, crossing her arms. “But you always had time for lying and sneaking around and pretending to be something you’re not, huh?”

“Uh, Amethyst, we can’t be doing this right no-”

“I just wanna know why,” Amethyst continued, growing steadily more incensed by the moment. “Why you thought it was ok to keep the whole twin brother—fake names—portal thing from me all these years! Did you really think I was like the kids and I couldn’t handle the truth? Because you and I both know I know a lot more messed up things than that. Did you even once think about telling me, or did you just plan on keeping me in the dark forever like I’m some dumb old rock who doesn’t deserve to know what’s really going on?!”

“Of course, I thought about telling you the truth!” Stan countered with equal harshness, knowing that he simply couldn’t let such an accusation go. “A bunch of times! You were the only person I ever even considered telling everything to before that portal opened! But… I couldn’t risk it.”

“Couldn’t risk what? Me telling Garnet and Pearl? You really think I’m that stupid?!” Amethyst was shouting by now but she hardly cared. She had been bottling all of this anger up for far too long now and it desperately needed to finally come out. “I wouldn’t have told them, you know I wouldn’t have! I kept our Revenge Trips a secret from them and from Rose for 8 damn years! And during all eight of those years and even up until just last week, I was dumb enough to think that you were the one person who actually played it straight with me, who didn’t leave me out of the loop or who didn’t lie to me around every turn. But it turns out I was wrong about that too since you were the one who lied to me more than anyone else.”

Stan was silent for a moment upon hearing this outburst, a small, remorseful sigh as he tried to think of some way to respond to it. In the end, however, he decided to go with the best thing he could think of: the truth. “I meant… I couldn’t risk putting all that on your shoulders.”

Amethyst flinched at this, not having expecting such rare sincerity from the conman. “H-huh?”

“Like I said, there were a bunch of times I had thought about telling you the truth,” Stan explained. “About the portal, about the fake names, about Ford, about everything. But… I knew you had lost your memories about all that stuff, and even if I didn’t know how or why, I guess… I guess I just… thought you were better off not knowing. That if you learned about all that, then… you’d fall apart, just like I did back when I first lost Ford. And after a while of running the road and wreaking revenge with you, I guess I thought that you just… didn’t deserve to carry the same weight around that I’ve been lugging for years. I’ve gotten us into a lot of messes over the years, but this was one mess that I wanted to keep you out of.” The conman shook his head morosely. “Guess that didn’t really work out the way I wanted it to in the end though, huh?”

“No, it didn’t,” Amethyst remarked, her tone still bitter though it softened up somewhat upon hearing Stan’s genuine, almost caring explanation. “Because now, everything’s even worse than it was back then. We finally got our memories back only to find out we made this huge mistake that was so bad that Rose pretty much had to take it away from us to help us survive. And then Garnet and Pearl get into it because neither of them knew how to handle the truth and now they won’t even talk to each other! And I didn’t even mention how I basically fought against both of them just to protect your sorry ass! It’s awful at home! I feel trapped and the worst part is it’s like there’s no way to escape it all! And its all your fault for keeping this whole damn portal thing going to begin with!”

The purple Gem finally let several of her pent up tears of bitter anger go at this, a harsh sob escaping her as she kept her gaze hard on the ground. Once again, Stan hesitated, immense guilt filling him as he realized just how much his own effective mountain of mistakes had ended up hurting one of his closest friends. For years, he had never even considered the possibility that the secrets he had kept so well guarded would have harmed Amethyst so much and so deeply. But clearly they had, in more ways than he could even really count. And while he wouldn’t have put forth the effort for too many others, Stan knew that he owed it to Amethyst to make amends. If that was even a possibility at this point. “A-Amethyst, I… I’m sorry…” he said, his tone deeply earnest and apologetic.

“W-what?” the purple Gem glanced up, quite surprised to finally hear what she had been looking for from him for quite some time.

“I’m… I’m sorry about all the lies,” Stan sighed, rubbing his arm remorsefully. “And about making you choose between me and your friends in the heat of the moment. A-and for what’s been going on between you three ever since all this mess happened. I really didn’t expect any of this to junk to happen, and I’m sorry that its put you in such a rough spot. Believe me, I know more than anyone else what that’s like and, well… it sucks, plain and simple.”

“You better believe it does…” Amethyst sniffled, wiping her tears away as she sent him a terse glare.

“You know, I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” the conman shrugged fretfully. “Honestly, I probably wouldn’t either after all the shit I pulled. But if you ever decide you want to, well… I’d… i-it… it mean a lot to me. I-I guess,” Stan finished with an awkward cough, trying to off play his sentimentality as much as he could. Amethyst, however, didn’t respond with the laugh or smile he had been expecting, but rather a pensive, uncertain look, one that the conman found admittedly hard to read. And in the end, her response was every bit as cryptic as well.

“I… I dunno,” she remarked, looking away from him briefly as she shook her head. “I’ll… have to think about it. But, uh, for now? We should probably get back to saving the kids!” The purple Gem quickly picked up her tone as she glanced upwards to see that the rope the trio was dangling by was just about to snap in two.

“Amethyst, you know what to do!” Stan shouted, getting back into action as the purple Gem nodded sternly.

“Right!” she exclaimed, recalling a move they had pulled off a number of times. In an instant, Amethyst shapeshifted herself into a large slingshot, one that Stan swiftly loaded himself into as the purple Gem took aim at the hole in the mountain that the kids were about to fall out of.

“Ready?” Stan asked, preparing himself for the launch with fierce determination to save the endangered trio. “Fire!”

Amethyst did so with a loud shout, shooting the conman straight upward at an alarming speed. As soon as she shapeshifted back into her normal form, she followed after him with a bold leap, ready to help the rescue effort in any way she could. The spectating crowd below quickly caught sight of the conman as he seemed to soar up the mountain on his own accord, prompting a round of very impressed cheers from them as they began tossing their support and their votes in birdseed toward him without a second thought.

“Augh! No, stop it!” Stan shouted as the seeds pelted him on his way up. “Thank you, but stop it!” As a result of the birdseed being thrown on him, a flock of stray eagles began to crowd around Stan, pecking at him as he zoomed upwards towards the kids and no doubt slowing his momentum as a result. “Augh! Get back, you terror birds!” he exclaimed, fiercely punching at the eagles until Amethyst came to his rescue, finally reaching his level and shapeshifting her hand into a large flyswatter to swat them all away. Stan offered her a thankful nod, which she returned just shy of them making their harrowing, but ultimately safe landing in the hole just above the kids. The trio themselves were in a state of paralyzed panic, unable to do anything else but scream in apt terror as the final strands of the rope suddenly snapped, leaving them to freefall to their dooms. That is, until Stan and Amethyst both grabbed onto it in the nick of time.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper and Mabel exclaimed, relieved as the pair began pulling them up to solid ground.

“Amethyst!” Steven cheered just as happily. “Wait, you guys are… working together again?”

Stan and Amethyst exchanged a brief glance, seizing each other up for a moment before the purple Gem shrugged in acceptance. “Yeah, I guess we are. N-not that that’s a big deal or anything.”

“Y-yeah, don’t read into it cause its really no big deal,” Stan said, just as flustered as Amethyst was. “A-anyway, I’m sorry for being so stubborn, kids. I guess being the town hero wasn’t enough. I wanted to be yours too.”

“Aw, we’re sorry too, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said, sincerely apologetic. “We should have supported you, win or lose.”

“Probably lose,” Dipper deadpanned truthfully.

“Hey, I can still drop you, ya know,” Stan remarked, though of course he didn’t as him and Amethyst finished pulling the kids up to safety. As soon as they were up, the pair didn’t hesitate to pull them into a tight, secure hug, glad to see that they were all unharmed. It didn’t take long for the pair to untie the kids’ ropes, finally freeing them and allowing the group to venture out on top of the statue’s nose so the townsfolk could see that they were all alright. The audience erupted into a frensy of relieved and excited cheers, all of them liberally tossing their remaining birdseed into Stan’s bin on the stage until it had easily beaten out the amount Bud had previously accumulated, much to a certain child psychic’s fury.

“No! No! No! No!” Gideon shouted through his possessed father, quickly utilizing his control pull out the primed remote detonator he had managed to get his hands on earlier, just in case. “Time to take care of you, once and for all!” With that, Bud pushed the remote, prompting the fireworks inside of the monument to begin to tick down from thirty seconds, much to the alarm of the group standing on top of it.

“Oh no! We have to get out of here!” Steven shouted fearfully, especially as the time on the countdown ticked away ever faster.

“Pfft, that’ll be easy,” Amethyst remarked confidently. “Though, it may involve one of our more… daring stunts, Stan. If you’re up to it, that is…”

“You know I am,” the conman countered wryly, though his daring did decrease somewhat upon seeing just how high up they really were. “Kids,” he addressed the twins, his tone suddenly solemn as a result of the stakes they were facing. “If I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than Ford.”

While slightly concerned, Dipper and Mabel nodded nonetheless as Stan pulled them and Steven into his arms. With another nod of confirmation, Amethyst hopped up onto his shoulders, holding onto her perch tightly as Stan rushed forward, leaping right off the statue just as the timer ran out. In a massive, singular blast, all of the fireworks denoted at once, completely destroying Mayor Dewey’s section of the statue, much to the current mayor’s abject horror.

“No! My statue!” Dewey cried, only for his terror to spike as a large piece of the statue’s rubble landed squarely on the memorabilia cart behind him. “My merchandise!” he sobbed as he collapsed to his knees in misery. “My legacy!”

As other pieces of the statue’s remains began raining down, the crowd scattered out of fear, none of them really noticing as Amethyst shapeshifted into a large parachute, one that allowed Stan and the kids an easy landing into the huge pile of birdseed accumulated on stage. At the same time, another large rock landed right next to Bud, knocking him to the ground and breaking both Gideon’s screen, as well as his possession over his father, much to his severe outrage.

“No!” the furious child psychic screamed from his prison cell, tearing the journal page on possession in half as a result of his failed revenge. “NO!” He shouted once more, grabbing his own receiver screen and tossing it across the room in his continued temper tantrum that lasted quite some time while his fellow prisoners watched on in apt alarm.

Back at the debate, however, things were only just starting to settle down from the explosion, and with the calm down came the release of the freedom eagle. The great bird readily soared out of its cage, not wasting any time in regally settling down near Stan, who was practically submerged in the pile of birdseed along with Amethyst and the kids. Even so, the eagle made its choice, gently kissing the conman’s forehead before flying off into the sunset, having preformed its duty in picking Gravity Falls’ newest mayor.

The townsfolk were quick to catch onto the eagle’s choice, one that they all easily supported in light of Stan’s blatant show of heroism in rescuing the kids. In fact, even as him and Amethyst were pulling the kids out of the pile of birdseed, their joyful shouts of “Mayor Pines!” rose up into the air, rising even over the sound of the remaining fireworks launching into the air from what was left of Mayor Dewey’s ruined statue.

“Well, I guess we know who won,” Dipper noted, sending the conman a satisfied smile.

“Congratulations, Mr. Pines!” Steven chimed in warmly.

“Heh, guess I actually gotta start ‘respecting’ you now, don’t I?” Amethyst remarked, her tone genuinely playful as she elbowed Stan in the knee.

“You haven’t before and I don’t expect you to start now,” Stan countered just as sardonically before both of them shared a much needed laugh. True, it didn’t mean that everything between them had repaired itself just yet, but even so, it was a start. And for now, a start was more than enough.

All the same, the crowd continued their show of overwhelming support for their new mayor elect, who had managed to claim the most unlikely of victories out of what had seemed like a certain loss cause. Even so, Gravity Falls seemed ready to receive its new mayor in Stan, or at least it would have been if not for one minor, or rather, major complication.

“This just in: Stanford Pines LOSES!” the news reported that night, its headlining story showing that Stan had somehow been disqualified from the election altogether, even after his triumphant turnaround victory. While most of Gravity Falls was surprised by this news, none were more shocked than the Pines, Steven, and Amethyst as they gathered to watch the official results of the election at the Mystery Shack later that evening.

“What?!” the group exclaimed in startled unison, all of them leaning in to hear exactly why this was.

“Despite winning an overwhelming 95% of the vote,” Shandra Jimenez reported. “Election officials had to disqualify Stan due to the discovery of an extensive criminal record.”

“Ohhhh, ok, that makes sense now,” Amethyst concluded, sending the conman a knowing look.

“Oh boy…” Stan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Grunkle Stan, what did you do?” Mabel asked, bewildered.

“What didn’t I do?” Stan remarked, nodding back to the TV.

“Said crimes include shoplifting, teaching bears to drive, a new crime he invented called… ‘burglebezzelment’?, first degree… llamacide?”

“That llama knew too much…” the conman growled darkly.

“Due to this shocking development and the fact that none of the other candidates properly filed their paperwork, acting Mayor Dewey has decided to resume his mayorship position for the foreseeable future, rendering this entire election effectively pointless.”

From there, the shot cut to Dewey, back on his old podium before the new ruined Mount Deweymore as he delivered a mournful speech. “Since my… b-beloved Mount Deweymore is no more and it’ll take quite some time to accumulate the funds to rebuild it, I have no choice but to step back into my former role as your mayor… and to sell my once-commemorative merchandise at half price since none of its worth anything anymore…” At this terrible thought, the mayor broke down into another round of miserable sobs as he leaned against his podium, his aids giving him comforting pats on the back before the newscast cut back to Shandra in the studio.

“We will dedicate the rest of this broadcast to listing Stan’s crimes,” she said before she began to read off from an extensive stack of papers detailing the conman’s various misdeeds. “First degree thermometer theft, pug trafficking, snacks evasion, pickpocketing…”

As the list continued on, the group watching quickly turned out, all of them knowing more than well that the conman’s crimes were quite numerous indeed. “Whew, well, at least they didn’t list any of the bad ones,” Stan remarked casually. “On an unrelated note, I have a lot of cheap pugs and I need to move them fast.”

“Hey, you know I’m always down for some illegal pug selling,” Amethyst remarked, elbowing the conman with a grin. “Or anything else you got up your sleeve for that matter, old man.”

“Y-you… you really mean it?” Stan asked, understanding what the purple Gem’s teasing was really shorthand for.

Amethyst hesitated, blushing somewhat before finally letting out a relenting sigh, knowing that harboring her anger towards Stan really only harmed herself in the end. After all, if nothing else, then it would at the very least be a welcome change to finally have someone to talk to openly and honestly in light of the ongoing schism between her teammates. And Amethyst could think of no one else she’d rather confide it all in than Stan himself. “Y-yeah, I guess so… but only if you start playing it straight with me. For real this time… ok?”

“I think I can manage that,” Stan smirked, knowing that he didn’t really have any more secrets left to hide. “Only if you don’t use any mind control ties to make me run into trees again.”

“Oh, yeah…” the purple Gem chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry about that… Like I said, I was… kinda ticked off at you. But I probably won’t do anything like that again. Probably.”

“Fair enough,” the conman accepted with a warm nod, the longstanding bond between them at long last repaired, much to the relief of the kids who had happily watched the entire exchange.

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Steven chimed brightly. “Still, it’s a shame you didn’t actually win the election, Mr. Pines.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said sincerely. “I actually think you as mayor would have been fun.”

“Eh, maybe its for the best,” Stan shrugged. “I got close to the dream though, so that’s enough.”

“Hey, uh, I knit you something,” Mabel interjected with a small smile, pulling out the knitted sash she had been holding behind her back, one that read ‘Our Hero’ in colorful letters. “It’s not official or anything, but… I think it fits.”

Upon receiving such a genuine memento from his niece, the conman couldn’t help but tear up ever so slightly, his heart warmed by the sentiment, not that he’d ever really admit it. “Grunkle Stan, are you crying?” Dipper asked, having noticed the building tears all the same.

“Ha! He totally is!” Amethyst goaded with a laugh. “Aw, Stan, ya big softie!”

“Hey! I’m not a softie!” Stan protested, though it was clear from his tone that he was indeed a bit choked up as he stood and put the sash on. “I just got campaign confetti in my eyes. Come on, kids. Wanna go vandalize Mayor Dewey’s house?”

“Yay! Vandalism!” the kids and Amethyst cheered in unison, all of them more than ready for a bout of wild and reckless fun. As the others ran out first, Stan took pause for a brief moment, glancing down at his sash with a satisfied smile. True, he hadn’t won the election, but what he had gotten far surpassed any office or title. He had solidified the admiration of his nibblings, had salvaged his treasured friendship with Amethyst, and, perhaps had gained a bit more self respect in the process. And in the end, despite the win and loss and ups and downs, that was all the conman could ever really ask for.

In light of his most recent failure against the Pines and the Gems, Gideon found that he really had no other plans for his evening other than arts and crafts with the other prisoners. Though the rowdy gang of crooks and criminals all deeply respected the child psychic and did just about anything he asked of them, Gideon himself often found their adoration annoying and suffocating, especially at a moment as low as this.

“I’m sorry the election thing didn’t work out for you, bro,” one of the larger prisoners, a man with bizarrely empty eyes who, coincidentally enough, went by the moniker of Ghost Eyes, said with sincere sympathy as him and Gideon crocheted together. “But if it makes you feel any better, we’re gonna throw a riot tonight! Does someone wanna throw a riot?”

“Thanks, Ghost Eyes,” Gideon sighed tiredly. “But I’m just not in the mood…” With this, the child psychic got up and headed back to his cell for the night, lying on the hard slab that was his bed as he stared up at the pale, moonlit ceiling. While most in his position probably would have given up hope for revenge and retribution, Gideon wasn’t one to let things like this go so easily. Especially since he still had at least one more trick up his sleeve.

“This poster is the only thing keepin’ me goin,” the child psychic remarked to himself, glancing over at the motivational poster on the wall beside him that depicted a cat hanging from a tree and read “hang onto that branch or die, cat!” And while its message was darkly encouraging, it was what lay behind the poster that was of the most importance to Gideon.

Upon making sure no one was watching him, the child psychic tore the poster off the wall, revealing the chalk drawing he had been harboring behind it for weeks: an elaborate effigy of two interconnective wheels, each wheel bearing ten symbols each, some of them recognizable and others not. The center of the inner wheel itself was empty, but Gideon was quick to fill it with the drawing of a familiar triangular being, one that he had worked with before, and for the sake of finally vanquishing his enemies once and for all, he was more than ready to work with again.

“I’m finally ready to make a deal, Bill…”

Next: 

#jen writes #universe falls #steven universe #gravity falls #crossover #au #stanchurian candidate #stan #dipper #mabel #steven #amethyst #gideon #bud #mayor dewey #soos #wendy #fanfiction #keyword is burglebezzlement

[the1rei]

Bloomin' Ross pt31

Cass thinks about Rose and their relationship, but she is still haunted by someone who looms over her past. 

<<< First Post  <<Prev Post - Next Post >>

"Hello, Xavier." Cass smiled at the blacksmith as she approached the shop.  The large man looked up from his work, his file grinding still against the edge of a piece of a breastplate.  It looked well forged, but Xavier had just started the finishing process, and it would be a while before it was the gleaming gold armor of Corona's guards.  Cass' eyes flitted from him to the back of the shop for an instant, "Is Rose around?"  

"Would she be anywhere else on you date day?"  Cass gave Xavier a withering look which much to her disappointment produced a low chuckle from him.  "Same day for four weeks, you can't deny it, my dear."  

Cass didn't bother to try.  She rolled her eyes and swept past Xavier moving towards the back and the sound of hammer strikes.  "She's got some new project going; you'll have to yell loud to get her attention, or throw something at her."  Xavier chuckled as she passed and with a wide smile still on his face began grinding the burrs off the armor again.  

The shop was hotter than usual, the heat welling up from the forge like a nearly tangible wall.  Rose stood with her back to the door fully outfitted in her smithing apron and mitts; goggles fixed securely around her head.  With a regularity for a ticking clock Rose's hammer rose and fell against the metal she held in a pair of tongs that Cass couldn't see.  Pyrepy lay under the forge's hearth, his natural flames large and bright heating it and producing the intense heat.  As Cass entered, the pup's head lifted, and he began wagging his stubby tail happily, most people wouldn't be able to see such features through the pup's blaze, but Cass had seen so much of him she could even make out his happy grin through the flames.  

Cass put her finger to her smiling lips a motion he knew to be quiet and stay still as she strode up behind Rose, not particularly trying to be quiet.  The young blacksmith did not indicate that she had heard Cass and soon Cass was looking over her shoulder at what Rose's work.  It was a long strip of metal that Rose was pounding flat, occasionally turning it to its side to gently hammer it back into shape.  

Cass' hands hovered at Rose's sides, her fingers poised to knead into them and scare the smith who might fall all over herself or even to the ground.  Then Rose would give Cass that bright, excited smile when she realized it was her.  No one else had ever smiled at Cass like that, a smile that said, 'I'm so excited you're here, I wouldn't want you to be anyone else.'  However, hovering their watching Rose work and just from the lines of her face Cass could tell Rose had a look of utter determination and focus in her eyes, she just couldn't bring herself to disrupt it.  Instead, Cass took a few steps back and leaned against the wall.  

Gently folding her arms across her stomach Cass watched as Rose finished hammering the metal and paused to examine it, before thrusting it into the intense heat of the forge.  Turning it as the metal began to glow red she held it until the red glow spread across the whole piece then took it out and folded it in half and began hammering the metal together while flattening it back out its original dimensions.  

Cass remained no more than an arm's length from Rose, but the blacksmith was too engrossed with her work to notice.  The smile never left Cass' face as she stood admiring Rose's form and the way she constantly worked without the slightest sign of fatigue.  That's was something she loved about Rose, her constant effort, and tenacity, it didn't matter if she failed or was laughed at she kept trying.  

Cass' eyes grew a little wider, and the smile fell away from her face as she realized what she was thinking.  She wondered what it meant, Xavier had been right it had been over a month that she and Rose had been friends and they had seen a lot of each other in that time, sometimes plagued by the overprotectiveness of the Captain, but was it, love?  She knew that Rose hated uncooked vegetables, was allergic to peaches, she thought fur hats looked silly, her favorite flowers were dandelions, and that nothing could convince her they were weeds.  Was that love?  Did Cass love Rose now more than she did before she learned all that?  Was it love that in moments of boredom her thoughts inevitably turned to Rose?  That Cass wondered what Rose would think of this or that?  That sometimes when they were alone Cass ached for contact with Rose, to hold her hand or wipe away one last smug of soot that Rose always managed to miss?

As they always did, such questions brought thoughts of him back to Cass' mind.  What had happened between them on those few faithful days and what happened afterward.  

---

Cass looked at herself in her mirror checking the state of her dress; it was pristine in a way it rarely was being something intended for work.  However, she was being presented with an honor today for capturing Andrew during the Day of Hearts, and she had to look her best.  The tent Market had come right after the celebration this year; its schedule was never something truly set in stone.  Because of that, her award ceremony had been pushed back to today, no reason to celebrate if everyone was going to be gone shopping.  

A knock on the door snapped Cass out of her thoughts and with a few strides she was at the door.  Pulling it open she found a guard on the other side, tall, lanky, and young he smiled nervously at her, the Captain's daughter and Cass tried to assuage his nervousness with a smile of her own.  

She was just about to ask him what he needed when the guard presented a single rose to her, "I was asked to give you this and a message.  'Sorry things didn't work out.'"

Cass' eyes shot wide as she stared at the rose for a moment, the same kind that Andrew had given her, then her eyes narrowed as she turned a critical glare on the guardsman.  Cass tried to recall if she was sure she could put a name to his face and when he nervously glanced away, possibly looking for an escape, she grabbed him.  

A firm grip on the collar of his armor she yanked him forward then slammed him into the door frame.  "Who are you and who sent this!"  She hissed at the guard whose eyes shot back and forth in panic.  

"T-t-the Princess!"  He stammered when Cass caught and held his gaze.

"Rapunzel gave you this flower to give to me?"  Cass scoffed, she had expected all manner of conciliation from Rapunzel since the incident, but Cass knew such things would come from the Princess herself.  

"N-no ma'am!"  The guard shook his head, "A girl, she wanted to bring it herself, but we couldn't let her.  She said the Princess told her what happened and she bought this rose to make you feel better.  Then she asked me to bring it up instead."  

Cass narrowed her eyes at the guard; he sounded like he was telling the truth and there was no way Andrew could be behind this, locked away.  But he was part of a group, could any of them be after her for revenge?  Releasing the guard from her grip Cass pressed him again.  "What did she look like?"  She needed details if she was going to capture these people.  

The guard breathed a little easier but quickly raddled off what he could remember.  "She had red hair, tied back in a ponytail, a brown soot cover work shirt, a pouch with a golden sun clasp on it, fingerless gloves and her forearms wrapped in cloth... or her eyes were green and about your height ma'am."  

The memory of the past few days and a particular person who had occupied them flooded back to Cass.  Her face softened, and she looked down at the rose she had snatched from the guard when she had grabbed him.  "Thank you, you can go, but don't tell anyone else about this."  

"Yes ma'am," The guard could nod and run fast enough.  Cass swung the door shut staring down at the rose remembering all she could about the girl who had sent it to her.  A smile crept onto her lips as those thoughts banished all the others of Andrew and all she had to do to capture him from her mind for the first time that day.  Cass felt so much better as her skin settled, she wished she could always feel so calm.  Moving to her weapons cabinet, Cass opened it, and it took only a brief glance before deciding to place it in among the arrows of her quiver.  It was a place Cass would see it easily and could look at it anytime the memories of him taunted her.

---

Cass was hugging herself now, Rose still working away not noticing Cass.  It had been over an hour, and she wondered when the time had gone.  Cass had to get back to the castle.  She moved to rouse Rose from her work and say goodbye and hello, but froze, the words caught in her mouth.  Cass shook her head and turned to leave and wondered what things would have been like between her and Rose if Andrew had never come into her life.

#tangled the series #cassandra #rose #cassandrose #ross #pyrepy #andrew

[anxietycounse]

Episode #11 Rituals

Episode # 11 -  Rituals 

You are not alone, we are in this together.

Hey everybody, we are pretty much into the new year, so I thought today we would do something like a New Year's resolution; not quite, but we are going to talk about relationship rituals today. So, rituals and traditions are things that within couples build emotional connections, and this could also be with your family and friends. Rituals and traditions could be with all sorts of different types of relationships. But they send messages to the people in our lives that they are important, this relationship is important. It can foster a sense of community. You are not alone; we are in this together. They might just be for a season of our lives, but we can come back to some very fond memories with this. 

 I spy...Luby’s and a Pickle

Let me tell you about some rituals that I remember from growing up within my own family of origin,  my parents and my older brother. I can remember my mom was so good at this! Especially when we were really young, just distracting us. Like when we would go out to a restaurant and we would always play the game “I spy” in a restaurant. I also remember after every doctor visit, just regular visits, and I don’t know why this was but after every single time, my mom would take my brother and me to go eat at this cafeteria called “Luby’s” and my dad would join us from work. So, I don’t know, Luby’s is in Texas and I don’t know if Luby’s is anywhere else, but it is basically this cafeteria style restaurant, nothing super special although I happen to love Luby’s. But I wonder if I especially love Luby’s because of this ritual we had when we were younger.  

 During the holiday season we picked up on this ritual or tradition probably like some of you of having the pickle ornament on the tree. Whoever finds it first on Christmas morning would get a special prize or something like that. I wanna say that it is a Dutch tradition that we picked up somewhere along the way. Fortunately, between my brother and me, I was somewhat of an earlier riser than my brother. There was one year that my brother got the pickle, but I got it the rest of the years. I am very fond of that tradition if I do say so myself HAHA, but we did stop it at some point. 

 Do you remember Blockbuster?

I can remember years back that when we were teenagers but before we could drive after school on a Friday, my mom would stop by the video store. Do you guys remember Blockbuster or Hollywood Video? Isn’t it crazy to think about that now? But we would go and pick out the VHS and have a Friday movie night with the entire family. And my mom or dad would pop some popcorn. 

 So, we had many rituals and traditions growing up. They didn’t necessarily last for years and years but for the time that they did last they were very wonderful, and I have very fond memories.  

So it is interesting with Jake and me, we have been married a little over 3 years and gosh just with different things like job stuff and moving and different schedules; and you guys know that he used to work offshore and now he works on night shift and all that. I have to be honest, we have had a hard time establishing some pretty regular rituals but we are very excited to start making some new ones now that we are both here in Virginia and hopefully the night shift will change at some point and make it easier to have some rituals. But at one point we used to do pizza and wine every Friday night. I wanna say that changed only when his schedule changed to night shift. Which makes sense. But anyway, we are really excited to create rituals for ourselves. 

 This is just something you can do within your own relationship and be creative. Build that emotional connection and have something to look back on.

 “COME ASK ME MY QUESTIONS!”

I noticed that when working with women that there is a lot of vulnerability to asking for rituals or creating rituals. Because, the age of your kids there could be a lot of push back, maybe depending on the personality or temperament or the work stress of your partner, there could be push back there. 

So, I find that my clients really want to create rituals or traditions but feel so vulnerable to ask and risk rejections like that. My heart breaks for that because I think rituals and traditions can be so wonderful. 

We kinda talk about different ways that could foster more of a sense of community instead of a sense of rejections and finding a compromise. I have a really good girlfriend who is really great with rituals with her kids and I know that she has a night time ritual where she and her husband go in and tuck each of the kids and ask them a series of questions about their day. Something to that effect. And the parents are the ones who started it and now my girlfriend is telling me that she will be downstairs finishing up her day and one of the kids will be upstairs in bed and hollering at her to “COME ASK ME MY QUESTIONS!” Now her kids really look forward to it and it is a part of their day. 

 Rituals can be anything. It could be a ritual of having coffee together in the morning before kids wake up. Or if you don’t have kids it's having coffee together and enjoying that time before you have kids and you don’t have that time together. A ritual can be a kiss on the lips when you get home from work or something like that. It can really and truly be anything. 

Encouragement going into 2020 

What are some rituals of connections that you already have? And are there any regular rituals or special occasion rituals you would like to establish?  What have you thought of? What would it be like to ask your partner? I wanna give you guys lots of encouragement to explore this idea of rituals within your relationships and as we close out December, I want to wish you a happy New Year. See you in 2020!

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[yourfirsthealthfitness-blog]

25 Secret Tips To Double Weight Loss (Evidence Based Fat Loss)

New Post has been published on https://www.firsthealthfitness.com/weight-loss/25-secret-tips-to-double-weight-loss-evidence-based-fat-loss.html

25 Secret Tips To Double Weight Loss (Evidence Based Fat Loss)

  Try these evidence-based weight loss tips from women who have lost a large amount of weight and kept it off. Become more healthy, happy and fit today!

The next 25 weight loss tips are scientifically proven to not only help you lose weight but improve your overall health. This is what women who have lost significant amounts of weight and kept it off do religiously:

1. They plan workouts in advance

If you can make plans to go to a Beyonce concert, then you can schedule a 30-minute workout at least 3 times per week.

That’s what busy, fit folks do.

2. They DVR their favorite TV shows

There is nothing wrong with recording the latest episode of The Walking Dead.

Research shows that staying up late to watch TV or Netflix hinders most people sleep.

And when your sleep is hindered, weight gain is sure to follow.

3. They corral their emotional eating side

I understand. We all have our days where life is a tasty as earthworm soup (Yuck!)

That’s why we engage in emotional eating.

Well, guess what? It’s okay.

Even fit individuals indulge in a bowl of ice cream with M & M pieces sprinkled on top (Yum!) to soothe their stress occasionally.

Emphasize on “occasionally.” They don’t let a bad day transform into a bad week that morphs into a bad month that grows into a bad year (or years).

Allowing food to be your coping mechanism leads to becoming overweight or obese.

If stress becomes too much, please seek professional help instead.

4. They avoid cream-based soups at restaurants

Some restaurant soups are so unhealthy that you might as well order a big juicy cheeseburger with a side of oily, “artery-clogging” French fries instead.

Cream-based soups are overloaded with “belly-bloating” sodium. Healthy people opt for soups that are made with clearer broths and sauces.

5. They prepare to indulge at a party or social event

Don’t be that gal or guy who avoids social celebrations because the food there won’t fit your macros.

Fitting in an extra workout or skipping desserts during the week can allow more room to eat free when it’s party time.

6. They order alcohol on the rocks

There’s a reason mixed drinks and beer taste so darn good — they’re loaded with calories and sugar.

That’s why it is better to order a drink on the rocks.

7. They aren’t afraid to lift more heavy weights

I still can’t believe there are people that weightlifting sessions consist of curling 3lb pink dumbbells.

Go heavier, please.

Numerous studies show that heavy weightlifting helps burn a significant amount of body fat as well as building muscle definition.

Use a challenging weight that you can do no more than 8 to 12 reps per set.

8. They snack wisely

The reason a lot of people are out of shape is that they snack too much.

Sure, one little bag of potato chips won’t ruin your physique.

But add up several bags of chips per day over the course of a week x 12 months.

That’s a bunch of extra calories, yet that’s how some people snack.

If you snack that often, start adding more fiber-rich foods (e.g., beans, vegetables, fruit, etc.) to your meals to improve satiety.

9. They indulge in desserts…. sometimes

Who doesn’t want to sink their teeth in a chocolate deluxe brownie every blue moon?

Living a healthy lifestyle doesn’t mean never indulging in dessert.

As a matter of fact, an occasional dessert should be treated as a reward for living healthy.

Most fit folks know and abide by this train of thought.

10. They know a weight scale doesn’t dictate their health status

Your favorite health guru may be mad at me for revealing this secret but….

WHAT A WEIGHT SCALE SAYS DOESN’T MATTER. Why is that?

Because most scales don’t tell you exactly where you’re at health and fitness wise.

It doesn’t tell you how much body fat or muscle mass you have.

It doesn’t know whether you’ve dropped a couple dress or pants sizes.

It doesn’t know whether your blood pressure is high or low.

It doesn’t truly know anything about your health…. except your current weight.

How helpful.

11. They practice meditation, yoga and other mindfulness exercises

Question: When was the last time you turned off your smartphone and got at least 20 minutes of peace and quiet?

If you’re scratching your noggin, it has been too long.

Life is too stressful for you not to get your mind right on a daily basis.

Research shows that mindfulness exercises such as meditation and yoga help stave off stress and anxiety.

12. They track their walking steps daily

Have you walked 10,000 steps today?

That’s the minimum recommended amount so that you aren’t considered a sedentary person.

Use a pedometer app on your smartphone to track your walking steps daily.

13. They know carbs aren’t the devil

Whoever said carbs are the devil also thought dietary fat was bad 10 years ago and protein was dangerous 20 years ago.

Listen, the media will always look to blame some food group for the obesity epidemic.

At the end of the day, it’s not carbs that are getting people fat; it’s the people that are eating too much of it.

Also, some people would rather eat donuts than sweet potatoes.

Guess what? They’re both carbs!

Here’s the purpose of carbohydrates: To give the human body the energy it needs to function properly and make it through the day.

Does that sound like a dangerous food group to you? I don’t think so.

14. They don’t judge others’ health choices

By reading this article, you decided to embark on a healthy lifestyle. Fantastic!

So what do you do if your family and friends would rather eat a McDonald’s apple pie than an apple? Nothing.

They’re living their life and you’re living yours.

One thing most long-term healthy individuals realize is that not everyone within their immediate circle will live a healthy lifestyle.

Sure, it is painful to watch your obese relative or friend shove apple pie down they’re throat but that’s their decision.

Just focus on your health and hope they get on-board one day.

15. They order their salad dressing or sauce on the side

One weight loss trick while eating out is to order salad dressing and sauce on the side.

This helps you control how much you put on your salad to avoid adding too many calories to it.

16. They avoid the bread basket at restaurants

The garlic bread at Olive Garden is tasty is heck in which why you should avoid them while on your weight loss journey.

Most fit folks avoid the bread basket at restaurants.

If nothing else, they limit themselves to no more than 2 pieces of bread.

17. They indulge in healthy fats

You thought eating fat was bad? Not if it’s healthy fat.

Research continues to support the weight loss benefits of consuming healthy fats like those found in olive oil, nuts, and avocado.

18. They create homemade meals more than they eat out

If you dine at restaurants more than at home, weight loss will continue to be a struggle.

Over the last 40 years, the surge of people eating out at restaurants vs.at home has led to a significant decrease in nutrient density and greater health risks.

By cooking at home, you control the ingredients and portion size, two vital factors when it comes to weight loss.

19. They don’t always finish their plate

“Finish your food. There are starving people in Ethiopia wishing they could take your place.”

If you have heard a similar mantra from your mother as a child, you probably feel obligated to always clean your plate even when you’re no longer hungry.

Fit folks don’t do that; they only focus on reaching satiety.

20. They shop around the perimeter at the grocery store

Did you know (or have you ever notice) that the fresh fruits, meats and vegetables are around the perimeter of the grocery store? Well, now you know!

If you’re destined to live a healthy lifestyle, staying “out of bounds” within the grocery store is where to be at.

21. They grocery shop on Wednesday’s

According to a study, only 11 percent of Americans shop on Wednesday’s.

Seems like that’s the day you need to go grocery shopping instead of the weekend where the grocery store looks like a warzone.

22. They push a shopping cart instead of carrying a basket

Did you know that pushing a shopping cart increases the likelihood that you choose healthier options at the grocery store?

According to one study, the strain of carrying a basket made shoppers more likely to reach for quick-grab impulse items such as potato chips since their concentrated at eye level in the aisle.

23. They know to read and diagnose a nutritional label

As you know now because a food is labeled “organic” doesn’t mean it’s healthy.

That’s why it is essential to learn how to breakdown a nutritional label to separate the healthy from the non-healthy options.

Being able to do so is one of the most important skills needed to live a healthy lifestyle.

Check out this FDA article to gain clarity on how to analyze a nutritional label.

24. They avoid anything labeled “low-carb”

Healthy people aren’t fooled with the “low-carb” gimmicks.

Food for thought: Any food that’s “low” in one thing is usually high in something else.

That’s why a number of low-carb options at restaurants are usually high in fat and/or sodium.

Don’t let them “low-carb” fool you.

25. They keep their snacks under 100 calories

Question: How many calories constitute a snack?

Most nutritionists and dietitians feel that a snack is anywhere between 100 to 300 calories.

That’s a reasonable estimate.

However, if you need to stay around 1,500 calories to lose weight, two regular-sized meals (about 1400 calories combined) with three snacks, you’re overeating, especially if each of those snacks is around 300 calories.

A great rule of thumb that most healthy individuals abide by is to keep snacking calories under 100 calories to decrease the possibility of overeating.

Snack on fiber-rich, calorie-dense foods such as fruits, nuts, and vegetables to accomplish this feat.

Oh, yea – there’s one more weight loss secret women who successfully keep weight off follow…

A Secret ‘Carb Trick’ That Burns Up To 1 Pound Per Day

If you’re like most women trying to lose weight… you diet, you count calories, you tear up the treadmill, and… nothing.

That’s how 40-year-old Sarah Donovan, an overweight mother with prediabetes was feeling…

She did “everything right” and never lost an inch.

Until she stumbled on this strange “carb-pairing” trick and burned away an unheard of 22lbs pounds in just 13 days.

And because of this one simple shift in her eating, she shed pounds and inches from her body without starving herself and without a lick of exercise!

With the same “carb-pairing” trick Sarah dropped a total of 37lbs in the FIRST month and she shocked her doctor by completely reversing ALL pre-diabetes symptoms!

If you’re a woman over the age of 25 who wants to reclaim her life inside the body she DESERVES, you should check it out for yourself.

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#Based #Double #Evidence #Fat #Loss #Secret #Tips #Weight

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (55/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

Masterpost

Chapter Fifty Four

After the initial contact with Sharon, it didn’t take long for her to get back to them and this time she had the exact information that Steve needed to really plan out the rescue. She had the guard schedules, info on the security codes and more importantly when Secretary Ross wouldn’t be there. It made it so that their rescue couldn’t happen for a few more days, but it meant they had time to plan it out well.

“I’m glad we were able to find them,” T’Challa said when he saw their plans coming together, “this was not how The Accords were supposed to operate. Their intention is still right and I think maybe you’ll figure out that there’s a merit to what we wanted. I do understand your side of things, Captain, but The Accords are in place for a reason.”

“I understand,” Steve said, “and I can see why you and Tony support them or at least the intentions that they have. I wish that things were different and that something like The Accords wouldn’t be a weapon in the wrong hands.”

T’Challa nodded. “The same can be said about just anything, Captain. Anything is a weapon if one wants it to be and sometimes it doesn’t matter what your intention is -- bad things can still happen.”

In the short time that Steve had been in Wakanda wandering around the place because it was too gorgeous not to, he had had time to really think. There were a lot of things that Steve would have done differently. A lot of things that he would have reconsidered and maybe reacted to differently. It wasn’t even about the death of Howard and Maria at the hands of Hydra and Bucky, but all the other things that he’d done wrong like not trying to work with Tony before things could truly get out of hand even in spite of everything else that was going on.

“I really wish that things hadn’t happened so fast. We might have resolved all of this before it got to this point,” Steve said.  

T’Challa nodded and Steve was reminded that T’Challa had lost his father and that he too had been driven by grief. The coronation was going to happen soon and Steve was a little curious as to what it would entail mostly because Wakanda seemed to be a mixture of the future and old tradition in a way that he had never experienced before. It opened his eyes up to what colonization had done to huge parts of the world. He imagined that a lot of places would be different and perhaps more like Wakanda as far as the culture aspect went, had they been left alone to grow and flourish in their own right.

Once the plan was ready there wasn’t much else to do. T’Challa had taken off to find someone he wanted present at his coronation and so that left Steve and Bucky in the hands of Shuri who had taken Steve’s shield and made a face at the patriotic look to it. She had still gone on to fix the scratches on it and then promised to make him something new as well because Steve really couldn’t be out there using that shield if he wanted to keep his identity hidden. He supposed that he might just go without a shield all together for a while.

“I have given you everything I think you’ll require,” she said one day while they ate lunch. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

Steve had seen the way that Bucky reacted to that question, looking at Steve with an almost guilty look on his face and yet he didn’t speak out. He left that to Steve.

“Is there any way I can send a letter? To make sure it’s not traced back to me?”

He had been mulling the idea over for a little while. He wanted to reach out to Tony -- he just didn’t know if it would be a good idea if the letter was somehow traced back to Wakanda. Steve just didn’t want anyone else in any kind of trouble least of all T’Challa or even Tony.

“Child’s play,” Shuri said. “And do you want to contact this person also untraced? Something faster than the mail?”

Steve nodded at once. “Can I do that?” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked back up at Shuri who had a glint in her eye.

“Who’s the girl?” Shuri asked, but glanced at Bucky instead of Steve.

Bucky laughed and smirked at Steve before responding. “Boy. It’s Tony Stark.”

Shuri seemed taken aback for a moment but the moment passed quickly and she perked up and got out of her seat with a glint in her eyes. She looked strangely gleeful.

“I have something that will work. Untraceable. Unhackable. Just the right thing.” Shuri rubbed her hands together and Steve was suddenly reminded of her age. “But go on write him that love letter and I’ll get this all set up.”

Steve spent most of the day after lunch trying to get the letter just right. He hated wasting paper, but he needed to get something to Tony. Part explanation and part apology. Steve knew that Tony would read it, but he hoped that Tony would also understand his side of things. But more importantly, now that Shuri was giving him the option, he needed for Tony to keep in contact with him because he didn’t know how he was going to manage being away from him. It was late afternoon when he finally wrote something that almost felt right. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do much better.

Shuri presented him with two very different phones later that evening.

“Alright, here they are. I hope you finished that letter. I want you to send this one with it.” She waved the one in her left hand.

Steve was surprised that it was a flip phone because even he was aware of how weird it was for anyone to still use one of those. He actually didn’t think that he had ever seen anyone use one ever.

“Why is that one a flip phone?” Steve asked.

Shuri smirked in a way that Steve was beginning to realize meant mischief. “Because it will remind him of you and because it’s hilarious. Just think about it! Tony Stark using a flip phone? It’s madness. But, he will. He will if he likes you at all as you like him.”

Despite her youth and her penchant for jokes and silliness, Steve had to remind himself that Shuri was a genius and that she could understand and read people well.

“Isn’t that an idea,” Bucky said with a grin and a nudge.

The other phone was more like a regular smartphone and that one was supposed to be Steve’s. He would keep it with him always and hope that Tony would reach out to him through it.

They packed up the phone and Steve’s letter and Shuri took care of sending it off, promising that it would arrive within the next two days.

Sooner than expected, Steve and Bucky were also setting off to rescue the others from The Raft. Shuri saw them off on a borrowed jet.

“That place is insane,” Bucky said as they flew out. “And to think that it’s hidden away from the entire world.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, “we always thought that my shield was made of the last of the vibranium but it turned out that the world just didn’t know there was more. There was this guy -- this arms dealer that had some. That’s how Ultron created Vision’s body. Still, I don’t think any of us actually realized how it could be used or what it could do. Seems like they’ve done well by staying in the dark. Imagine any of this getting into the wrong hands.”

“It’s not just weapons,” Bucky said and there was awe in his voice. He didn’t say anything for a while, but Steve could tell he wanted to and that Steve might not like what he had to say.

Being in Wakanda had really been beneficial to Bucky. Steve had been stuck in his own head and then planning out getting Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Scott out of The Raft that he hadn’t really thought about Bucky much. He didn’t really need to, not when Bucky was right there next to him. But he had noticed that Bucky had started to relax some. He seemed calmer and less paranoid and yet Steve knew Bucky and as such he knew that his friend hadn’t ceased to worry about the brainwashing.

There had been moments here and there where Bucky had drifted off with Shuri or one of the many people that Shuri had working in her labs and Steve hadn’t thought much of it because Bucky had always been curious and interested in science. It was a shame in some ways that he and Tony hadn’t gotten to meet in a different way because Steve suspected that they would have actually gotten on well.   

“I spoke to Shuri,” Bucky said at long last. “I -- I will never not be compromised. I’m a risk no matter where I am or who I am with because that book and those words exist and my mind isn’t my own.” He paused to look at Steve and there was a sorrow to his eyes that Steve hated seeing.

“Buck, we can figure something out,” Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. “I was going to go off on my own again,” he admitted. “Kind of a risk but I did well enough for myself before.”

Steve opened his mouth but Bucky waved him off.

“No, let me finish,” Bucky said. “No matter what this is going to be difficult. I spoke to Shuri about it. She’s just such a smart kid. She thinks there’s a way to fix it -- fix me.”

This was exactly what he wanted for Bucky. Bucky had become more and more himself since Steve had found him again and yet there was an edge to him and that paranoia that seemed to be a constant with him. He was different, and Steve knew that taking away the brainwashing wouldn’t fix everything, but it would change some things. Might make him freer.

“I’d have to go in the ice again,” Bucky continued, “but it would be worth it no matter how long it takes if I can be me again.” His lips turned up a little but Steve could tell that Bucky wasn’t letting himself hope for the best result. It made Steve wonder if Bucky would ever be anything like the man he used to know.

“Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t have let you leave,” Steve said.

Bucky let out a laugh. “You could have tried, Stevie, but the truth is that you love Tony Stark and your stubborn need to come after me hurt that -- hurt him. It took you almost seven hours to write him a letter. I won’t be your weakness or part of the reason you . If I stay in Wakanda and let Shuri try to heal me I won’t be. It’s better this way.”

It also almost made it feel like none of it had been worth it. Like finding Bucky and fighting for Bucky had been for nothing because despite how T’Challa had allowed them into Wakanda, Steve wouldn’t be able to stay there. He wouldn’t put T’Challa in that position and Steve knew that getting the others out of The Raft was just the starting point to whatever came next. He couldn’t even begin to guess to what would come next but he knew himself well enough to know that he would never be fine just hiding out somewhere not doing anything. He wouldn’t be able to just stay somewhere -- not even a place as lovely as Wakanda -- without some sort of purpose. At least now he would know where Bucky was and he could go and visit.

“I guess this is the way it’s going to be,” Steve said and smiled at Bucky.

Bucky nodded.

Chapter Fifty Six

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #iron dad #iron dad fic #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #mcu #marvel

[clapyourhandsrec]

14 Savvy Ways to Spend your Leftover Man Cave Budget

14 Savvy Ways to Spend your Leftover Man Cave Budget

Of course, saving extra money helps you out in the long run, but what if you already have enough in the bank and want to treat yourself? Let’s talk about 14 savvy ways to spend your leftover man cave budget and treat yourself for a change! With your biggest project—the man cave—all taken care of, the extra money in your pocket just begs to be spent. Before you dash to the nearest store and go on a spending spree, check out these different ideas that

    1) Snack Attack

Everyone loves snacks. With a brand new man cave to stock up, buy ingredients for charcuterie, nachos, sandwiches, homemade French fries, pizza, and so on! Throw some beer and soda into the cooler for good measure. Whenever you need a little snack, your fridge contains the solution. The rest of your family will also appreciate the sudden influx of treats. After all, with a lot of money going into the man cave, they might feel neglected! Treat both them and yourself with these delectable treats.

  2) Books, Games, or Movies

Entertainment helps keep stress at bay, and when you know you can afford it, spending a little bit to treat yourself works wonders. Sit down with a favorite book and enter the realm of fiction. Or, if you prefer, step into a new game (or even game console!) and enjoy some multiplayer fun. Go out to that new movie you look forward to! More than anything else, keep your mind stimulated so that you may enjoy life to its fullest even as you work.

  3) Machines

Since this covers quite a broad range of items, I want to specify what sort of machines I mean. The cost of tools eats at your wallet, especially when you need a lot of them. A real man knows that there are more tools out there than anyone can afford. So, using your leftover budget, think about the next essential tool to put in your shed. A fancy cordless power drill? A new circular saw? A leaf blower? Or maybe an Ohmmeter, for the electrically inclined? Whatever you choose, it will help you for years to come!

4) Tickets to the Game

If you live in a small town, hop in the car and drive to the city. A game awaits you! Football, soccer, hockey, and baseball all provide hours of entertainment and relaxation for an affordable price. Use your extra money to spend a night out, grab as many snacks and t-shirts as you want, and pick your favorite seats in the house! A very savvy person’s wallet may even afford a season pass to your team of choice! A whole year (or more, depending on your team and sport of choice) of guaranteed game seats more than makes up for the cost.

  5) Small Vacation

If you have the money for a vacation, then take it! But I don’t expect anyone savvy to have a monumental amount leftover. After all, your budget should match the actual price of your man cave as close as possible! While a cross-country vacation extravaganza pushes the limits of ‘extra’ cash, perhaps a small vacation works for you! Go to your nearest tourist spot—whether it’s a museum nearby, a historic park, or even just downtown. Whether you know the area or not, enjoy it as a brand new tourist. Forget about your worries and relax for the whole day! At the end, return home to your recently finished man cave to top off the day.

Upgrade the House

As I previously mentioned, your family probably wishes some of your man cave money went to them instead of your own fancy room. Use any extra cash to appease them and upgrade parts of the house that they desire. Replacing an old microwave, buying new furniture for the living room, upgrading your TV, or installing a patio in the backyard all help even out the attention to your man cave and the attention to your house. Your family will appreciate it, that’s for certain!

  A New Suit

Buy a sharp new suit to match your inner self. A custom tailored suit evokes both wealth and wisdom and shows everyone how accomplished you are. Furthermore, suits with a good fit just feel great to wear! Use your extra cash to improve your first impression on others and your appearance in the work place. Of course, outward appearance only goes so far to express your inner self. That’s why you make sure to match your savviness to your style before you put on the clothes!

Nice Wine

Sometimes it helps to go back to the basics. Treat yourself with a bit of alcohol—but instead of going with regular beer, grab some wine and pour a glass for yourself! On top of that, never settle for your regular brands. Go out on a limb and try a fancy brand that caught your eye a few weeks ago and looked out of your price range on that day. Alternatively, grab a whole bunch of craft wine or locally made wine to round out your at-home selection. You never know when you might find a new favorite flavor!

  Gym Membership

Your body and mind both benefit from a gym membership, and since I highly doubt you own a personal gym, why not use your extra money to invest in yourself? Depending on where you live and what you want, gym memberships range from highly affordable to incredibly expensive. To spend your money smartly, plan out a workout schedule and see which gyms accommodate you. In example, that huge gym down the street holds dozens of different types of machines and a whole pool, but if you only use weights and a treadmill, a mom-and-pop gym works better and costs much, much less.

  Sign Up for a Class

While we’re discussing self-improvement, find a class for a hobby or skill you desire and pay in full! Sometimes a single class from a local college does the trick, but for labor skills, I greatly prefer learning from masters of the craft directly. Blacksmithing, woodworking, and masonry skills all passed from master to apprentice for hundreds of years, so why not dish out some extra dough to ensure you learn from a pro in the traditional way? It also helps you make friends and connections with similar people nearby.

  New Haircut

Rather than going for your ten dollar trim, find a stylist in your area and try out something new! Too often we stick with the hair style we grow up with. It’s not like we’re ladies, after all—as long as it looks passable, we don’t need to worry about our hair. However, putting effort into looking sleek and stylish goes further towards making a good impression than a fancy suit! On top of that, it just feels great sporting a new look. A professional stylist ($40 and up) will identify which length, texture, color, and even sheen suits your hair best. They tell you how to take care of it and you leave their salon looking like you popped out of a magazine cologne ad.

Set Up a Garden

No, don’t plant a flower patch. Part of maintaining your perfect yard involves tending to the plants as well. Look into what sort of trees grow in your area as well as what sort of plants flourish. In my area, herbs like thyme, cilantro, and mint grow like weeds. I always keep a small garden of them in the yard so that my home meals taste better than a restaurant. Certain types of plants use less water than grass, and as droughts affect more and more areas, planting these types of things really works in your favor. Of course, rock gardens also work to save water, and the stones regulate the temperature of your yard both day and night!

  Get ‘Extras’ for your Man Cave

Do you really consider your man cave finished? Just because you checked off everything on your to-do list, don’t think you finished working on your man cave! Sometimes, we only realize the most essential part of our cave after we sit down and start using it. In example, a rustic basement man cave works great…but needs some serious air filters and dehumidifiers to prevent the room from smelling like soggy hay all the time. Those both cost a bit of cash. Use your man cave for at least a week before you call it done. In the meantime, every savvy man will keep the extra cash in his pocket for the moment he finds out what he missed!

Donate to a Good Cause

Hands down, the best way to spend your hard-earned cash is to give it to those in need. If you truly see no way to improve your man cave with it and can live just fine without your extra cash, then consider giving it to a charitable organization of your choice that could really use the money. Starving children, homeless mothers, and even sick stray animals rely on people like us to support them in their time of need. You find them everywhere—both inside and outside the United States—and it’s up to us to help them.

  If you don’t like giving to people, then perhaps causes suit you better. Conservancy groups, medical programs, mountain climbing clubs, and so on all could use the money. Treating yourself is great, but have you considered how to help others, since you already find yourself satisfied with what you have? While it probably won’t affect you—even in the long run—the feeling of helping others tops everything else on this list.

  No matter how you spend your money, look at it as an opportunity to live the high life—even momentarily. Someone who used a conservative budget and still came out ahead deserves to keep a little bit to themselves. Now, indulge yourself, and remember to relax in your man cave once you finish!

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