#“it was supposed to be you and me forever!” he says and ford thinks its childish but STAN REMEMBERS.

[babyblankyerror]

I like to think Stanley has photographic memory (is that what it's called?)

Like he's able to look at one thing and remember it to detail- if you ask him to describe someone he will give you full details that you wouldn't even consider because it's things he noticed..

He's especially food with faces which wouldn't be nice for a little kid- he'd remember each of his father's micro expressions and hold onto those. He'd remember vividly the way teachers looked at him and the things people said about him TO DETAIL. The day he listens in to the conversation of how he will be scraping off barnacles? The night he was kicked out?? He remembers EXACTLY how everything lookes and sounded..

Someone finds this out and Stanley becomes useful in the streets. He is asked what he saw in a certain place and he will describe it, he will remember and even draw a blueprint if you ask him- Some goons can ask him which way is safer and he'll just be like "well, if you went right here you'd be in the clear but up ahead it's more dangerous. Here, however, the guard looked shifty- big pupils and all. Definitely high- you'd be safer through there-" and so on.

I don't know :3 I just think it'd be fun if the guy with the best memory is the same guy that loses it (which would explain why he remembered right after too)

[feenoire]

Heartfelt Veils II. A Doe Loves Its Wolf

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 6.2k

warnings: age difference (18/50), sexual harassment (cat call), fluff, angst, sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: spending your 18th birthday with your stepdad ended up being an unforgettable day, one that will forever linger in your mind.

a/n: Joel quoting Romeo’s line in spanish, that’s the note. i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

series masterlist

The drizzle cascades outside, tapping the window of your bedroom. The pumpkin spice candle fills your room with its warm, comforting scent. You’re sitting on a chair, pen in hand, as you pour your thoughts into your diary at the study desk.

“Dear diary, I almost cry at the sweetness of October. Woken early by Joel, who made breakfast for me: avocado toast and raspberry juice. Days seep by like the stain of a raspberry on my pearl blouse. A week has gone by since I arrived in this small town, this new haven—Joel’s home. I could make a list of all the warmest things: my new chamber, forest saunter, delicacies, cold weather, the sleekness of his wood carvings, and Joel.

I’m afraid to admit it, but I think I like Joel, he’s like a sin worth hunting for. Something’s wrong with me because I know I’m not supposed to feel this way. My heart beats steadfastly for him, his brown eyes warm like the morning sun. For the first time, I feel like someone truly pays attention to me and genuinely cares what I have to say. I feel seen. Unlike the ghost I have been for the last seventeen years. He is flowers in my stomach. I always think of him before I fall asleep. Nightmares fade.

But I tried to convince myself that he was just being nice like most stepdads would do, because they can be kind at first but become total assholes later, that it was all just a pretense, they just want your mother, not you. That’s what I heard from my friends. But I truly hope Joel isn’t like that. That this feeling I have right now is just a phase, that he’s just a phase…”

The knock on the door startles you as you’re lost in your thoughts, letting them flow onto the book in front of you. In a panic, you quickly shut your diary and hide it in the drawer. Knowing you’d be dead if someone read it.

“Sweetheart, are you ready yet?” his deep, husky voice speaks.

“Yeah. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Alright. I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” says he from behind the door.

“Okay.”

After his footsteps fade, you put on your jacket over your sweater and grab your school bag. Not wanting to make him wait too long, you quickly grab your walkman before running downstairs. There, you find Joel leaning against his black 1978 Ford truck, looking like a man straight out of a magazine.

Your breath hitches and your cheeks warm at the sight of him as you stand on the front porch. He wears a denim shirt under a brown jacket that hugs his frame, showing just how big his arms are. He is divine, like the Seleucid prince. It makes you flutter.

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you with a smile as you stride toward him. You can’t help but smile and blush at his lovely gesture.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say softly.

“Ain’t no worries, little girl.”

Little Girl. You like the way he calls you that, it sends a warm sensation to your core. You don’t know why. With the husky voice of his, you secretly wish he could whisper it in your ear.

Joel gets inside the truck and starts to drive. Meanwhile, your mother leaves for work early today. Joel told her that she could stop working if she wanted to and let him provide for her, but she said no, as work keeps her busy and she likes doing it.

It feels comfortable and calming to the mind as you look at the scenery through the car’s window. Observing the little town with its shops, parks, and sidewalks covered in fallen leaves. There’s an old man riding a bicycle, with ten dogs following him, stepping with their little legs. The sight brings a smile to your face. In the distance, a big mountain blanketed in fog. The weather is getting colder, as it nears November.

“What are you listening to?” Joel says, breaking the silence.

You don’t turn the volume all the way up on your walkman, so you can still hear Joel talking through the headphones.

“Um, just an old song from my mixtape.”

Joel smiles. “Why don’t you put your little mixtape on the stereo so I can listen to it too?”

Part of you is embarrassed at the thought of Joel listening to your playlist, or maybe you’re scared that he will judge you for it, without realizing how much you care about what or how Joel thinks of you. But a small part of you is delighted that you could listen to your favorite songs with him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take off your headphones and put the tape in the player. The soft melody of Mazzy Star’s “Blue Light” fills the car.

Joel smiles as he listens. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one.”

“You have?”

“I have, it’s glorious.”

You smile, glancing at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“You look like this song would if it were a person.”

His words make your cheeks flush. It’s the best thing anyone has ever said to you, especially when it comes from Joel. You try to shift the conversation back to him. “What kind of music are you into?”

“Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan, David Bowie—”

“I love David Bowie!” you say enthusiastically.

Joel laughs softly at your enthralled reaction. He watches you with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Me too, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper as you bow your head. Scolding yourself internally for losing your composure in front of him.

“Don’t be.”

The song changes to “Storms” by Fleetwood Mac as you look out of the window again, gazing at the white swans swimming on the lake, beautiful as a painting. Time seems to speed up, and soon you see the big wooden sign on the side of the road that reads, ‘Welcome to Lakewood.’

The car passes by towering trees as you approach the small town. You’re so caught up in the scenery before your eyes that you don’t realize Joel has been looking at you. The town is beautiful, much like Silvervale, but a bit bigger.

Finally, you arrive at Lakewood High School. The school is big and built with maroon-colored bricks. Forest trees stand tall behind the building. Joel pulls over in front of the entrance. Some students head inside. The parking lot is full of cars and motorcycles, with teenagers hanging around despite the forty-five degrees weather.

You feel nervous, and your hand is slightly shaking. But you don’t realize it until Joel reaches for your trembling hand and holds it, enveloping your small hand with his large, warm, and calloused one. The contrast between his rough skin and your softness is noticeable.

“Are you okay?” he asks calmly.

You look at your trembling hand covered by Joel’s. Trying to control your anxiety and take a deep breath.

The idea of starting all over again, introducing yourself to strangers scared you more than you realize. You’re scared of being perceived and what if you’re not able to find a friend? You’ve always been a wallflower at your old school, with only one or two friends.

But you push the thoughts away—you’re not going to break down in front of Joel. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand. It calms you down and alleviates your pounding heart and trembling body.

You nod. “Yeah, I-I’m okay.”

His eyes are full of concern. “You don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. I can take you back here tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’m okay, I promise.”

You don’t want to burden Joel, who already takes time before work to drive you here. You’re not going to let a little anxiety ruin your day, especially his.

“Are you sure?”

You give him a smile as a sign that you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for driving me.”

“Not at all.”

You open the car door and as you try to get out, Joel still clasps your hand, stopping you.

“Joel?”

His gaze is unwavering and intense as he looks at you. “Call me if you need anything okay? Don’t hesitate,” he says with his thumb gently caressing your hand.

Your breath hitches from the intense eye contact. The tension between you is palpable, making your heart race. Unsure if he can feel it or if it’s just you. The pulsing in your core returns and it starts to ache—you’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache. Joel’s gaze shifts from your eyes to your thighs, and his eyes darken.

“Little girl,” he whispers.

You try to hold back the whimper at the sensation and the way he calls you. “I-I have to go,” you murmur.

You withdraw your hand from him and get out of the car with a pounding heart. You welcome the cool refreshing air and take a deep breath. No one has ever affected you the way Joel has, and you can’t comprehend why. Trying to calm down and gather your thoughts, you head inside the building without looking back and decide to find the front office to collect your schedule and the school map.

Time passes, and the school bell rings signaling the end of the school day. Finally.

You didn’t really pay much attention to your surroundings today. You spent your lunch break alone in the wildflower meadow in the forest behind the school, sipping the cherry cola you bought from the vending machine and smoking a few cigarettes. With your walkman on and your favorite book as your companion.

You got to know a few people from your classes, but not many. Some of the teachers were nice and helpful. The thing you hated the most was the boys hanging out in the hallway, whistling loudly at you as you walked to class. Shitheads.

The last class of the day was English, taught by the handsome teacher Mr. Wayne—according to the students. He’s around thirty, with light tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly graying beard. He’s the youngest male teacher at school, which is why most of the girls are after him. It seems like everybody pays attention to what he teaches in class, or maybe they just admire his looks. He assigned everyone in class a copy of Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare and asked them to write an essay about it.

After you leave the school building, you don’t call Joel to pick you up as he asked you to. Instead, you walk through the forest, but not too far from the road. Keeping your phone’s map open to guide you home.

The earthy and musky scent of the fallen leaves is prominent. The faint breeze gently blows through your hair and rustles the leaves scattered around you. The sky is getting dim, and you have no idea why. You check your watch—it’s only 3:20 PM. You’ve been walking for twenty minutes, with just thirty more to go until you arrive. So, you tighten the jacket around you and walk faster.

After what happened this morning, you don’t dare to face Joel, so it’s best to just avoid him. The way he held your hand, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, was all too much. What if he feels the same way you do and is struggling with it just like you? You swear it was there—the palpable force of tension and electricity between the two of you. Maybe you’re just crazy, imagining things that weren’t there, that it was all in your head. What is wrong with you? He’s your stepdad—why do you feel this way? You’re certain that if someone could read your mind, they’d put you in a mental institution.

Now that you’re alone, you let the tears fall from your eyes. Your heart aches as you wonder if what you feel for him is genuine. Joel is a very kind man and a great partner for your mother, and you’re just a dumb seventeen-year-old girl who holds a secret longing for him. You secretly pray to God that these feelings will fade away. Reminding yourself that you need to control how you feel and distance yourself from Joel from now on before something bad happens.

As you continue walking you hear a faint crunching sound on the fallen leaves behind you. Heart pounding, afraid someone might be following you. It turns out it’s a black kitten trailing behind you as you look back. It meows at you as you approach, and your heart softens.

“Hey, are you alone?” you say softly.

Of course, it only answers you with a meow. You look around but you don’t see another cat. The kitten is alone. You wonder where its mother is. As you kneel on the ground and inspect it, its fur is dirty and tangled, and one of its legs is crooked. It’s a girl. You can’t leave her here alone—what if she dies?

“Why don’t you come home with me?” you whisper to the kitten.

You carefully lift her from the ground and carry her with you. She purrs and snuggles into your jacket as you hold her small form gently in your hands. You smile at the sight.

“You’re okay now, let’s go home.”

The kitten occupies your mind now; all you can think about is getting her home, giving her a warm bath, and tending to her crooked leg. The thoughts about Joel leave your mind.

It’s 4:20 PM by the time you arrive home, soaking wet. Late because you had to take shelter from the rain under the bus stop pavilion, shielding the kitten in your jacket’s inner pocket. You cursed yourself for wearing a black mini skirt today, and now your legs are so cold they almost feel numb.

The driveway is empty, signaling that no one is home. You take the spare key from under the doormat and quickly get inside. You bathe the kitten and take a hot shower yourself, then tend to her tiny, crooked leg before falling asleep in your bed with her.

Unsure how long you’ve been asleep—whether it’s been minutes or hours. You feel a big hand gently caressing your head, which wakes you up from your slumber. You open your eyes slowly and adjust your vision; there you see Joel bent over looking at you with a face full of concern, and his hand on your hair.

“Joel?” you murmur.

“Little girl, where have you been?”

You rub your eyes and slowly sit up, gathering your consciousness. “What?”

He sits on the edge of the bed. “I called and texted you, but you didn’t answer. I told you to call me to pick you up. Then, I went to your school, and you weren’t there, I was sca—” he bows his head and takes a deep breath.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Joel looks so scared. His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw tense, and fear is evident in his eyes.

“Joel, I—”

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, and your mom too—she was terrified. Where the hell have you been?”

You made everyone worry about you, and you feel so guilty about it. You should have at least let them know. Overwhelmed and too caught up in what happened this morning, you don’t dare reach out to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. I was taking a walk home through the woods to… to clear my mind,” you say, your voice slightly shaking. “I’m so sorry for making you worry; I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s face softens at your explanation. “But sweetheart, that’s like an hour’s walk.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“It’s still too dangerous, baby. You can’t just walk around the woods. What if you get attacked by animals or worse?”

“I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever do that again.”

Joel is a remarkably handsome man, even when he’s worried, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. In return, he meets your gaze, his brown eyes make you feel safe and warm. His hand tries to reach your face, but you turn your head away and shift the conversation. Joel pulls back his hand.

“I found a kitten in the woods, her leg’s injured. So, I brought her home,” you say, pointing to the kitten sleeping on your pillow.

A smile starts to form on his lips as he looks at the little creature. “I didn’t even realize she was there.”

“Is it okay? I can’t leave her alone.”

“It’s okay, little girl,” he says warmly.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say with a smile. “Where’s mom?”

“Downstairs. She’s upset, I’m gonna talk to her.”

“No, it’s alright. Let me talk to her,” you say. “After all, it’s my fault.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Unconsciously, you remove the blanket from your lap and climb out of bed, stepping over Joel’s thigh. The cold air and the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare legs remind you that you’re only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Joel clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and stride to your closet, shutting the door behind you.

God damn it. How could I forget?

As you go downstairs, you find your mother sitting in the dining room. Joel was right—she’s upset, it’s evident on her face. You stand across the table as your mother’s gaze shifts from the window to you. Your heart feels heavy with guilt as you look at her.

“Mom, I’m so—”

“Where have you been?” she says, her voice elevating.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I was just taking a walk home, that’s all. I didn’t go anywhere else.”

“Well, you can’t just fucking disappear like that! We were looking for you everywhere. If Joel hadn’t told me, I probably wouldn’t have known.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold back your tears.

“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t have fucking done it if you had known.”

Her words make your tears fall down your cheeks, and you sob quietly. Your mother is always like that—very strict about everything: where you go, what you wear, what time you come home. It’s as if she has been scared for you your whole life, and you never understand why. That’s why you are always cooped up at home.

“You go straight home from school from now on. Joel will pick you up, and no more taking a walk bullshit!” she exclaims. “You’re not going to let everything I’ve done to move here and protect you go to waste—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but instead, she lowers her head and shakes it.

“Protect me from what?” you ask softly, but your question is met with silence. “Mom—”

“Go to your room!” she yells, making you flinch. “No dinner tonight.”

Without a word, you obey her and go upstairs to your room. In the hallway, you catch a glimpse of Joel sitting on his bed with the door open, his face full of concern. You close your door and cry into your pillow.

In the middle of the night, a knock on your door wakes you up. When you open it, you find a tray of food on the floor: a plate of salmon noodles and a glass of milk. It must be Joel; you know your mother wouldn’t do this. You eat the food with your kitten and then go back to sleep.

October 31

On Halloween day, you lie in the wildflower meadow behind the school like you always do every day during lunch break. Too overwhelmed by the crowd inside, especially the cafeteria, you’ve never eaten there, not even once. You don’t care, though. You love spending your time alone here, with no one to bother you.

The school hosting a Halloween-themed event, allowing students to wear costumes. With a pair of wings, a flowing white dress, and a crucifix necklace, you completed your Juliet Capulet costume. It honestly makes you feel angelic.

It’s your birthday today, and you turn eighteen. You wonder if there’s someone who has a birthday on Halloween as well. If so, they probably live on the other side of the world.

It seems like your mother and Joel forgot your birthday since they didn’t say anything to you. Which makes you feel a bit sad today. To celebrate your birthday, you bought a slice of chocolate cake from the vending machine. You don’t even know what to wish for as you want to blow out the candle, so you just blow it out and eat the cake.

A little while later, you notice a doe standing near the shrubs around the trees, not too far from you. She catches your eye, she’s beautiful just like the one in your painting. So, you get up from your spot and slowly approach her, stopping a few feet away so you don’t scare the doe. You wish you could caress her soft fur and give her gentle kisses. Her eyes are captivating as she looks at you. Maybe it’s your deepest desire that comes true right after you blow out your candle. This very moment makes you feel like you’re in some kind of fairy tale.

The doe slowly steps towards you, but suddenly runs away when she hears a branch crack behind you. As you look back, you catch a glimpse of a man, but he is quickly hiding behind a tree. Heart pounding as you come to the realization that it’s similar to what happened in your dreams. Without thinking further, you run back towards the school. Suddenly, it feels so far, maybe because you have gone too deep into the woods than you realized. All you can think is to run and run; your breath is heavy and your stomach hurts. You hear footsteps behind you, but you do not dare to look back.

Keep running, keep running!

Finally, you reach the school building. Knowing that there are many people around, you dare to look back, and there’s no one is following you. You stand at the edge of the school, confused and feeling like you’re losing your mind. But you’re sure that what you saw was real, not just some trick your mind wanted to see. Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder, making you flinch and turn around.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

It takes you a few seconds to calm your breath and pounding heart as you look at the person in front of you. His face is full of concern as he looks at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Wayne,” you say.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you sure?”

“I just… I thought I saw something, but it’s nothing.”

He nods and speaks calmly, “Okay. Why don’t you just join the party inside with the other students.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

Joel picks you up after school like he always does. By the time you get home, the house smells like baked goods and cherries.

“Take a walk with me?” says Joel from behind you. His deep voice echoes through the living room.

You turn around and look at him. “Alright. But where are we going?”

He smiles. “You’ll see.”

Joel holds your small hand with his large one as he leads you into the forest behind the house, his other hand holding a picnic basket covered with a white napkin. When you ask him what it contains, he doesn’t answer.

You can’t help but secretly admire Joel’s veiny hand, side profile, and salt-and-pepper curls. He looks so good it makes your heart swell.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl,” says Joel, with a smirk on his face. He catches you eyeing him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

A soft blush tints your cheeks from being caught. “Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience, baby.”

Walking in the woods again reminds you of what happened earlier. So, you stay cautious throughout the entire walk, hoping no one is following you this time.

A little while later, you arrive at the spot Joel wanted to show you. Hidden behind the tall bushes is a serene lake, where swans swim gracefully. The lake is surrounded by trees and bushes, making it feel like a secret garden.

By the side of the lake is a bone-colored picnic blanket stretched out on the grass, with a few unlit scented candles placed on top of it.

“Joel?” you say, shifting your gaze to him who’s already looking at you with admiration.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, you hug him. “Thank you, Joel. I thought everyone had forgotten.”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he says, his lips brushing your hair.

Pulling back, you gaze up at him. “But mom did. She didn’t say a word to me today. When I woke up, she was already gone.”

Joel caresses your hair with his hand. “Your mom’s busy with work as usual, but I got your present from her.”

That makes you feel a bit better, at least your mother hasn’t entirely forgotten your day. She’s never been there, and you’re always home alone on your birthdays—just buying takeout and watching TV, nothing special. The last time your birthday was celebrated was when you were six. If you’re being honest, you don’t really like having your birthday celebrated. You hate getting older and seeing it as a reminder that death is getting nearer.

But seeing Joel surprise you with all of this makes you think that maybe you deserve it for once. You’re forever grateful that he came into your life and his kindness, for treating you like his own family and making you feel cherished.

The two of you sit on the blanket. Joel takes out the items from the basket while you admire the view. There are countless lavender flowers growing around the lake, and fireflies fly around, glimmering in the foggy air.

Joel takes out the most beautiful cake ever—a heart-shaped cake with pink icing and red cherries on top. He places a tiny candle in the middle.

You blush and smile so widely that your cheeks almost hurt. “Joel, it’s so beautiful. Did you make this?”

He grins. “Yeah, how do you know?”

“The house smelled like cake when we arrived.”

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, Joel, I really love this. Thank you.”

“You deserve this, little girl.”

Have no idea when this will happen again, you savor this beautiful moment and every small thing. You’re not going to let this day be forgotten.

Joel takes a picture of you with his beat-up phone as you blow out the candle. But the birthday cake isn’t the only thing he brings; there’s also grapefruit juice, brownies, chocolates, blueberries, and much more. The two of you eat together, adoring the view and the swans.

“Wish I could stay here forever.”

“You like it here?” he asks.

“Of course I do. I mean, just look at this place—it’s beautiful here,” you say with a smile. “You’re lucky to live here.”

He smiles. “Well, you live here too now, sweetheart. It’s your home.”

“Thank you, Joel, for letting us live with you and for everything.”

“I’m glad to have you here, little girl. It feels more like home now with people around. I’ve been alone for a long time; I came home to a cold house, and it’s warm now with you here.”

The idea of Joel coming to a cold and empty home tugs at your heart. You can’t imagine him being so lonely all the time with no one to care for him. He deserves love and comfort. It makes you a bit glad that your mother has come into his life to fill the emptiness and give him what he needs, even though you secretly wish you could be the one to give it to him.

“I’m gonna keep the fire warm for you.”

Joel’s face softens as he looks at you. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms as you gaze into those dazzling brown eyes and see the sincerity on his face. “I haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me—the room, this wonderful birthday, taking me to school, making me breakfast every morning—”

“Sweetheart—”

“For letting Ponyo live with us—”

With a soft expression, he giggles at the mention of your kitten, and you giggle too.

“And so much more,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for any of it. I’m doing it all for you, and I love every second of it,” says he. “It feels good to have someone to care for.”

You beam.

“So, how was school? Did you make any friends?”

At the mention of friends, your smile slowly fades. “Not really. I’ve been spending time alone. But it’s okay. I mean, I’m not really a people person anyway.”

He gives you a warm smile. “That’s okay, little girl. Sometimes it just takes time. But promise me, if something happens or if you need someone to talk to, you’ll come straight to me, okay? I’m always here.”

“I will. Thank you, Joel.”

You’ve never felt so heard before; it’s like a burden has been lifted from your shoulders. The two of you sit in silence for a while, savoring the peaceful moment.

“They’re beautiful, the swans,” you say.

“They look just like you,” says he, with a heartfelt tone.

You blush and smile, and frankly don’t know how to respond to Joel’s sweet words. Every time he talks to you, it’s as if poetry flows naturally from his mouth.

“Have I told you that you look like a damn angel today, sweetheart?”

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and look at him, feeling his breath on your cheeks from how close you two are sitting. “That’s because I’m dressed as Juliet.”

“Belleza demasiado valiosa para ser adquirida, demasiado exquisita para la tierra,” says he.

Cheeks warm and heart racing at his words even though you don’t what it means or what he’s saying. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe from the strength of the invisible string pulling the two of you together.

You keep your gaze on his eyes as you ask softly, “What does it mean?”

He gently bumps his forehead against yours, making your heart skip a beat. “It means you’re beautiful, little girl.”

It must mean more than that.

You try hard to keep yourself from grabbing his curls and slamming your lips to his, letting him take your breath away. He’s too tantalizing, like a forbidden fruit. But you quickly remind yourself that he is your mother’s boyfriend, not yours.

Joel slowly caresses your soft cheek with his calloused hand and leans forward until your noses touch. But you turn your face away and lower your head. Refusing to let yourself forget the reality.

Did Joel just try to kiss you? The thought races through your mind as you try to make sense of it, sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Can… can I open the presents?” you murmur.

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah, sure, sweetheart.”

Joel takes the wrapped presents out of the basket, and you glance at him, catching something in his expression—is it sadness? You’re not sure. But you try your best to brighten the moment again.

Your mother gifted you a cozy, beautifully knit sweater and a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile, Joel surprised you with an “Among My Swan” vinyl and a lovely wood carving of your kitten, Ponyo, which makes you feel as jolly as a child.

“Oh my god, Joel, this is amazing. Thank you!”

Without further thought, you throw yourself at Joel and envelop him in a hug. In return, Joel laughs softly, circling his arms around you and pulling you into his lap, enveloping your much smaller body.

“You’re welcome, little girl.”

The masculine scent of cedarwood and leather is strong as you bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting and arousing at the same time. You wish you could stay in Joel’s embrace forever, knowing that everything will be okay.

As you try to pull back from his embrace, Joel tightens his arms around you, holding you closer.

“Joel?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

He loosens his arms a little so he can glance at your face. From this close, you can see the texture of his skin—a little wrinkled around the eyes but soft at the same time. His eyes are rich, chocolate brown, but the pupils take over as they dilate when you lock eyes with him. His lips look soft with a natural pinkish hue, and his breath smells like coffee and grapefruit juice.

Joel Miller is beautiful.

His gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips as you start to talk. “Joel, I—”

He interrupts you with a bruising kiss on your lips before you can finish your sentence. His large hand lands on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other arm tightens around your waist.

Oh my. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, feeling his beard rub against your cheeks and chin. Kissing Joel feels like you can finally breathe like he’s giving you his breath to make you feel alive.

Truthfully, you don’t really know what to do—this is the first time you kiss someone. Joel Miller is the one who takes it.

Your hands fist the back of his shirt and tangle in his curls as you moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. Joel groans into your mouth at the sound of your sweet noises. He takes it as an invitation, so he passionately explores your mouth with his tongue, stroking yours and getting lost in the dance.

“Tastes so sweet,” he murmurs between kisses.

His lips are a bit dry but soft, tasting like the blueberries he just ate—sweet and intoxicating. The kiss grows firmer, more desperate—something you’ve never felt before. He sucks on your bottom lip and slips his tongue inside again, leaving a trail of wetness.

You feel something hard pressing against your core, but you don’t know what it is. The warm sensation in your core worsens, pulsing to the point that it starts to hurt. You can’t hold back a whimper at the sensation and start to grind on it slowly to ease the ache, and he begins to groan.

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Little girl,” he murmurs, panting.

He tightens his grip on your waist to stop your grinding. Slowly, you open your eyes and see the pain on his face. It grounds you to your senses, making you realize that what you’re doing right now is completely wrong. This is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“This is wrong,” you whisper, starting to cry.

You try to pull back from his embrace, reaching for his arm to let you go. His face shows hurt and the realization of what he’s just done. He releases you from his lap, and you sit on the blanket, concealing your face with your palms as you begin to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you murmur, your voice muffled.

“No, baby, It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

You feel his hand carefully touch your shoulder, and he begins to hold your trembling form in his embrace. You can’t look at him, feeling too guilty about what you’ve just done. Joel is your stepdad; this is deeply wrong. You ruined everything and betrayed your mother.

“Oh God, what have I done?” you whisper under your breath.

“I am so sorry, baby. This is not your fault, okay? Please listen to me,” Joel says, his voice filled with pain, as if he’s on the verge of crying.

You keep apologizing to him, even as he tells you to stop. Yet, he still embraces you gently, as if you’re something delicate and fragile.

After a few moments, you’re able to control your sobs and stop crying. You let him hold your hand as he walks you back home. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he returns to the lake to clean up and give you some time alone.

Lying on your bed, eyes dry from tears, you replay everything that just happened. You start to feel numb, unable to cry anymore, and your head aches. You try to focus on the good things that happened today, but the image of kissing Joel and the guilt cloud your mind, making it impossible to forget.

The sky grows darker outside the window, and the sound of children laughing and trick-or-treating from the street reaches your room. But you don’t hear any noise from downstairs or any sign of Joel coming back.

Where’s Joel? Is he okay?

Feeling lonely and cold, you feel guilty for wishing Joel could be here to hug you and keep you warm. Ponyo’s presence snuggling on your chest makes you feel a bit better; maybe you’re not as lonely after all.

Eventually, you fall asleep with your wings still on.

taglist @morganlolitta

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 8

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.8

“You’ve been down here forever PhD. Maybe you should… I dunno, leave your evil basement sub-lab? Maybe eat something other than an entire tube of toothpaste?”

“This isn’t toothpaste. It’s a calorie-rich blended solution formulated specifically for daily nutrition, in a convenient tube to avoid the need for cutlery.”

“Doc. Read the label.”

“...”

“You should probably sleep too if you mixed those up.”

“You’re just trying to get me to leave so you can escape.”

“I’ve broken out of county jail, the trunk of a sinking car, a shipping crate, cement shoes, and even my loan sharks book club meeting. But this? A forcefield? A real, no-shit forcefield? I don’t have anything for that… anymore.”

“What was that last part?”

“I said I can’t break out of sci-fi prison. Go to bed already, Doc - it’d be a lot easier for me to sleep too if you weren’t hovering over there, looking at me all sad like I’m some stray at the pound about to be put down.”

“Fine, but don’t go anywhere.”

“Well there goes my plans for the night.”

“...What plans?”

“For the fifth time, it’s called sarcasm.”

“Now that I think about it, I think I still have an invention I need to calibrate…”

“Specs was right; how did you survive out here by yourself?”

(...)

“Thanks for helping me clean the place up, Fiddleford. I’ll admit, I’ve been putting it off for a while now.”

“You don’t say… You know, you still haven’t told me what that extra level in your basement is for.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s a private study.”

“You’re so secretive about it.”

“Private study.”

“Alright, alright.”

“After we’re done here, I have an anomaly in the woods I need to check out; would you be willing to keep an eye on the house and the lab while I’m gone?” 

“I have no problem making sure your brother doesn’t disappear into thin air, of course I’ll stay back for your peace of mind.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what you meant - oh don’t make that face at me. I’m not trying to make fun of you, I think it’s… Endearing, that you care so much even if you have the worst ways of showing it.”

“...Just keep an eye on the house. And maybe go down there every so often to interact with him, the isolation isn’t doing him many favours.”

“How did your last talk with him go?”

“He’s still convinced that I’m grieving over my ‘real’ twin, and using him as a substitute because we look alike. He can acknowledge that the timeline and traits line up, and that he himself has a missing past, but he still thinks he’s a ‘Malone’ and not a ‘Pines’. I don’t know why he’s being so resistant to the possibility…”

"You know... 'Stan Malone' sounds mighty similar to 'Standalone'. 

*Ford facepalms*

“I thought it was clever.”

“It is, that’s why I’m mad.”

(...)

“-and it’s actually called ‘Backupsmor’? That’s its name?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. They didn’t even bother hiding what they were huh?”

“I suppose so. What about you, Stan?”

“Pft, I didn’t go to college. I’m… pretty sure? I didn’t graduate high school.”

“You’re not fully sure?”

“F, I can only remember back when I was 17, and I was already living on the streets. I don’t think I could have graduated by then. Not like it would have helped me.”

“17, you say? Interesting…”

“What about you? Your whole family full of geniuses like you?”

“Everyone’s… smart in their own way. I’m the only member of my family to attend college, however. The rest of my family works on a hog farm.”

“That’s pretty cool, striking it out on your own.”

“Mighty kind of you to-.”

“Good-looking, smart, and independent? I like that in a-.”

“I’m back!”

*Fiddleford hastily presses the mute button on the containment unit*

“Stanford, you’re back! How was it?”

“I was hoping it was something new, but it was just the gnomes trying to utilize the size changing crystals. How were things here?”

"I was just getting more information on what past he does remember- didn’t rightly get much because he is such a flirt."

"He's only doing it to a) make you uncomfortable, b) make you let your guard down, or c) charm you enough to convince you to free him."

"Well he hasn't quite succeeded on any of those. Does he flirt with you?"

"That's disgusting, Fiddleford. I don't know how you do things in Tennessee, but here it is improper for siblings to-."

“Genius, didn't you just say he doesn't believe you're related?"

“Somewhere in there he must still know I'm his brother. Which is a good thing for us because his memories can't be buried too deep."

TAPTAPTAP

*Fiddleford presses the mute button of the cell to unmute it*

“No, that's not it. That motherfucker is ugly.”

“Ugly? We have the same face!”

“Yeah, but on you it doesn't work.”

To be continued...

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[bloodbenderz]

humaniterations (dot) net/2014/10/13/an-anarchist-perspective-on-the-red-lotus/ this article from oct 2014 is very dense — truly, a lot to unpack here, but I feel like you would find this piece interesting. I would love it if you shared your thoughts on the points that stood out to you, whether you agree or disagree. you obv don’t have to respond to it tho, but I’m sending it as an ask jic you feel like penning (and sharing) a magnificent essay, as is your wont 💕

article

i know this took me forever 2 answer SORRY but i just checked off all the things on my to do list for the first time in days today so. Essay incoming ladies!

ok im SO glad u sent me this bc it’s so so good. it’s a genuinely thoughtful criticism of the politics in legend of korra (altho i think its sometimes a little mean to korra unnecessarily like there’s no reason to call her a “petulant brat” or say that she throws tantrums but i do understand their point about her being an immature and reactionary hero, which i’ll get back to) and i think the author has a good balance between acknowledging like Yeah the lok writers were american liberals and wrote their show accordingly and Also writing a thorough analysis of lok’s politics that felt relevant and interesting without throwing their hands up and saying this is all useless liberal bullshit (which i will admit that i tend to do).

this article essentially argues that the red lotus antagonists of s3 were right. And that’s not an uncommon opinion i think but this gives it serious weight. Like, everything that zaheer’s gang did was, in context, fully understandable. of course the red lotus would be invested in making sure that the physically and spiritually and politically most powerful person in the world ISNT raised by world leaders and a secret society of elites that’s completely unaccountable to the people! of course the red lotus wants to bring down tyrannical governments and allow communities to form and self govern organically! and the writers dismiss all of that out of hand by 1. consistently framing the red lotus as insane and murderous (korra never actually gives zaheer’s ideas a chance or truly considers integrating them into her own approach) 2. representing the death of the earth queen as not just something that’s not necessarily popular (what was with mako’s bootlicker grandma, i’d love to know) but as something that causes unbelievable violence and chaos in ba sing se (which, like, a lot of history and research will tell you that people in disasters tend towards prosocial behaviors). so the way the story frames each of these characters and ideologies is fascinating because like. if you wanted to write season 3 of legend of korra with zaheer as the protagonist and korra as the antagonist, you wouldn’t actually have to change the sequence of events at all, really. these writers in particular and liberal writers in general LOVE writing morally-gray-but-ultimately-sympathetic characters (like, almost EVERY SINGLE fire nation character in the first series, who were full on violent colonizers but all to a degree were rehabilitated in the eyes of the viewer) but instead of framing the red lotus as good people who are devoted to justice and freedom and sometimes behave cruelly to get where theyre trying to go, they frame them as psychopaths and murderers who have good intentions don’t really understand how to make the world a better place.

and the interesting thing about all this, about the fact that the red lotus acted in most cases exactly as it should have in context and the only reason its relegated to villain status is bc the show is written by liberals, is that the red lotus actually points out really glaring sociopolitical issues in universe! like, watching the show, u think well why the fuck HASN’T korra done anything about the earth queen oppressing her subjects? why DOESN’T korra do anything about the worse than useless republic president? why the hell are so many people living in poverty while our mains live cushy well fed lives? how come earth kingdom land only seems to belong to various monarchs and settler colonists, instead of the people who are actually indigenous to it? the show does not want to answer these questions, because american liberal capitalism literally survives on the reality of oppressive governments and worse than useless presidents and people living in poverty while the middle/upper class eats and indigenous land being stolen. if the show were to answer these questions honestly, the answer would be that the status quo in real life (and the one on the show that mirrors real life) Has To Change.

So they avoid answering these questions honestly in order for the thesis statement to be that the status quo is good. and the only way for the show to escape answering these questions is for them to individualize all these broad social problems down into Good people and Bad people. so while we have obvious bad ones like the earth queen we also have all these capitalists and monarchs and politicians who are actually very nice and lovely people who would never hurt anyone! which is just such an absurd take and it’s liberal propaganda at its best. holding a position of incredible political/economic power in an unjust society is inherently unethical and maintaining that position of power requires violence against the people you have power over. which is literally social justice 101. but there’s literally no normal, average, not-politically-powerful person on the show. so when leftist anarchism is presented and says that destroying systems that enforce extreme power differentials is the only way to bring peace and freedom to all, the show has already set us up to think, hey, fuck you, top cop lin beifong and ford motor ceo asami sato are good people and good people like them exist! and all we have to do to move forward and progress as a society is to make sure we have enough good individuals in enough powerful positions (like zuko as the fire lord ending the war, or wu as the earth king ending the monarchy)! which is of course complete fiction. liberal reform doesn’t work. but by pretending that it could work by saying that the SYSTEM isnt rotten it’s just that the people running it suck and we just need to replace those people, it automatically delegitimizes any radical movements that actually seek to change things.

and that’s the most interesting thing about this article to me is that it posits that the avatar...might actually be a negative presence in the world. the avatar is the exact same thing: it’s a position of immense political and physical power bestowed completely randomly, and depending on the moral character and various actions of who fills that position at any given time, millions of people will or won’t suffer. like kyoshi, who created the fascist dai li, like roku, who refused to remove a genocidal dictator from power, like aang, who facilitated the establishment of a settler colonial state on earth kingdom land. like korra! she’s an incredibly immature avatar and a generally reactionary lead. i’ve talked about this at length before but she never actually gets in touch with the needs of the people. she’s constantly running in elite circles, exposed only to the needs and squabbles of the upper class! how the hell is she supposed to understand the complexities of oppression and privilege when she was raised by a chess club with inordinate amounts of power and associates almost exclusively with politicians and billionaires?? from day 1 we see that she tends to see things in very black and white ways which is FINE if you’re a privileged 17 yr old girl seeing the world for the first time but NOT FINE if you’re the single most powerful person in the world! Yeah, korra thinks the world is probably mostly fine and just needs a little whipping into shape every couple years, because all she has ever known is a mostly fine world! in s1 when mako mentions that he as a homeless impoverished teenager worked for a gang (which is. Not weird. Impoverished people of every background are ALWAYS more likely to resort to socially unacceptable ways of making money) korra is like “you guys are criminals?????!!!!!” she was raised in perfect luxury by a conservative institution and just never developed beyond that. So sure, if the red lotus raised her anarchist, probably a lot would’ve been different/better, but....they didn’t. and korra ended up being a reactionary and conservative avatar who protected monarchs and colonialist politicians. The avatar as a position is completely subject to the whims of whoever is currently the avatar. and not only does that suck for everyone who is not the avatar, not only is it totally unfair to whatever kid who grows up knowing the fate of the world is squarely on their shoulders, but it as a concept is a highly individualist product of the authors’ own western liberal ideas of progress! the idea that one good leader can fix the world (or should even try) based on their own inherent superiority to everyone else is unbelievably flawed and ignores the fact that all real progress is brought about as a result of COMMUNITY work, as a result of normal people working for themselves and their neighbors!

the broader analysis of bending was really interesting to me too, but im honestly not sure i Totally agree with it. the article pretty much accepts the show’s assertion that bending is a privilege (and frankly backs it up much better than the original show did, but whatever), and i don’t think that’s NECESSARILY untrue since it is, like, a physical advantage (the author compares it to, for example, the fact that some people are born athletically gifted and others are born with extreme physical limitations), but i DO think that it discounts the in universe racialization of bending. in any sequel to atla that made sense, bending as a race making fact would have been explored ALONGSIDE the physical advantages it bestows on people. colonialism and its aftermath is generally ignored in this article which is its major weakness i think, especially in conjunction with bending. you can bring up the ideas the author did about individual vs community oriented progress in the avatar universe while safely ignoring the colonialism, but you can’t not bring up race and colonialism when you discuss bending. especially once you get to thinking about how water/earth/airbenders were imprisoned and killed specifically because bending was a physical advantage, and that physical advantage was something that would have given colonized populations a means of resistance and that the fire nation wanted to keep to itself.

i think that’s the best lens thru which to analyze bending tbh! like in the avatar universe bending is a tool that different ethnic groups tend to use in different ways. at its best, bending actually doesn’t represent social power differences (despite representing a physical power difference) because it’s used to represent/maintain community solidarity. like, take the water tribe. katara being the last waterbender, in some way, makes her the last of a part of swt CULTURE. the implication is that when there were a lot of waterbenders in the south, they dedicated their talents to building community and helping their neighbors, because this was something incredibly culturally important and important to the water tribe as a community. the swt as a COLLECTIVE values bending for what it can do for the entire tribe, which counts for basically every other talent a person can have (strength, creativity, etc). the fire nation, by contrast, distorts the community value of bending by racializing it: anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is inherently NOT fire nation (and therefore inherently inferior) and, because of the physical power that bending confers, anyone who bends an element that isn’t fire is a threat to fire nation hegemony. and in THAT framework of bending, it’s something that intrinsically assigns worth and reifies race in a way that’s conveniently beneficial to the oppressor.

it IS worth talking about how using Element as a way to categorize people reifies nations, borders, and race in a way that is VERY characteristic of white american liberals. i tried to be conscious of that (and the way that elements/bending can act in DIFFERENT ways, depending on cultural context) but i think it’s pretty clear that the writers did intend for element to unequivocally signify nation (and, by extension, race), which is part of why they screwed up mixed families so bad in lok. when they’ve locked themselves into this idea that element=nation=race, they end up with sets of siblings like mako and bolin or kya tenzin and bumi, who all “take” after only one parent based on the element that they bend. which is just completely stupid but very indicative of how the writers actually INTENDED element/bending to be a race making process. and its both fucked up and interesting that the writers display the same framework of race analysis that the canonical antagonists of atla do.

anyway that’s a few thoughts! thank u again for sending the article i really loved it and i had a lot of fun writing this <3

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 11 - Epilogue

“Will I remember any of this?”

Ford paused, hands stilling on his workbench as he considered the question. “…I don’t know.”

Stan swung his legs idly from where he was perched on another table in Ford’s lab, watching the nerd fiddle with his vials. One of them had a glimmering rainbow liquid in it that kinda looked like unicorn blood. “You said when I was an adult we were fighting. Do you think we’re just gonna keep fighting?”

“We’ll always be fighting a little bit.” Ford hedged.

“No, I mean real fighting. Not just arguments and stuff.”

“Then… no, not if I have any say in it.”

:readmore:

“Good.” Stan folded his arms. “Adult me kinda sounds like a jerk, so you gotta tell him I said to be nice. And you’ve been kind of a jerk too, so you also have to be nice.”

“I doubt a grown-up you will follow the instructions of a baby.”

“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Stan found a crumpled piece of paper nearby and lobbed it at Ford’s head. He missed, but it was the thought that counted. Ford let out a huff.

“Don’t throw things when I’m working with chemicals, Stanley. Unless you want me to spill it on myself and also turn into a baby. Then who would cure you?”

“Not a baby!”

Stan didn’t throw anything else, though. Only because there was nothing nearby to throw.

“I honestly don’t know how much you’ll remember.” Ford admitted after a while, twirling a test tube to mix its contents. It looked pretty boring for what was basically a magic potion, just clear and grey. It wasn’t even bubbling. “You might completely forget everything that happened when you were de-aged. In which case, I don’t know how I’ll explain everything.”

“Just start with the story of how I defeated an evil dream demon. It’s the coolest part.”

“It’s the most exciting part of the story,” Ford allowed, “But not the best place to start.”

“It’s the hook! That’s the best part of a story, you know.”

Ford lifted the boring test tube up to inspect it in the light. When Stan looked closer, it didn’t seem as clear – as he watched it was slowly getting cloudier, more silver than grey. He vaguely remembered something about that from science class – did that mean there was a chemical reaction? Or a physical reaction? He could never remember the difference between them.

Ford stared pensively at the vial, and after a few moments Stan cleared his throat. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” Ford started to turn to him and then hesitated again. “You just have to drink this to go back to your real age. I… hm. Are you ready? Do you want to have something to eat first? Or maybe go to bed and have it in the morning?”

Stan blinked. “It’s gonna make me older again, right? Why wait?”

“Well, I don’t know.” When Stan made grabby hands Ford relented and handed over the vial. It was cold to the touch, like it had just come from the fridge. Stan stared at the thick, silvery liquid and wondered what it would taste like. “When you touched water from the spring of youth you passed out for several hours. The same thing could happen now, so we should move you somewhere comfortable before you drink-”

Stan tipped the vial and swallowed its contents in one big gulp. Ford shrieked.

“Stanley! Why would you do that?”

It tasted kinda like dirty, metallic oranges and Stan screwed up his face. “Ew! Couldn’t you at least make it taste nice?”

Ford retorted something, but the sounds were a bit wobbly in his ears. Stan blinked hard to try and make his vision make sense. It was just a little bit off, fuzzy in the corners of his vision.

“…getting dizzy?” Ford’s voice swam through the air, thick and swampy, like Stan was breathing treacle. “…lie down…”

And then, quick as blinking, he was on the floor. That was rude, for the world to just flip over like that. Everything was clouds and Stan was very, very sleepy.

Something else was said, but he was too far away to hear it.

 _______________________________________________________________

When consciousness came – and it did come, as much as Stan wished he could sleep forever, dragging him up from the depths of hazy dreams he couldn’t remember – he knew exactly where he was.

There were soft sheets against his back, the faint whistle of wind through the pines outside, the taste of copper on his tongue. The spare bed felt smaller, now, and when his head shifted his stubbly cheek scratched against the pillow. It smelled faintly like dust.

“Stan? Are you waking up?”

Okay, that was Ford’s voice. But, there was still the possibility that this had all been a weird, vivid dream! That’s right, everything from the last couple days had been a dream. There were no gnomes, no dream demons, and in a moment Stan would open his eyes and be back inside the Stanleymobile.

He cracked his eyes open, blinking at the assault of light, and saw his brother’s face looking back at him.

…shit.

“Stan? Are you alright?” Ford was tapping his cheek, looking for a reaction. Stan grumbled and brushed him away.

“I’m fine. Hands off the merchandise.” His voice was rough with sleep, and Stan was almost surprised by how deep and gravelly it was compared to the childish squeaking he’d been doing lately.

Ford made a face, somewhere between worried and amused – an expression that Stan was familiar with from the last couple days. Dammit. He just had to remember all that. Ugh, and now Ford would want to talk and get all mushy.

“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, with nothing else to say. He got up on his elbows, and a quick glance around the room confirmed they were in the spare room he’d been sleeping in the last couple days. Still, he asked. “Where are we?”

“How much do you remember?” Ford asked urgently, making Stan blink. “Since you arrived here, I mean.”

“Uh… nothing.” He lied, like a liar. Ford’s face fell.

“…oh.”

Yeah, there was no way he could tell the truth here. He would die of embarrassment if he had to admit he remembered acting like a child and being all…sappy. Ford would look at him all weird and they would have to talk and that was just… ugh.

“Yep! I just remember getting here and then – poof! Nothing.” Stan went for a carefree laugh. “Man, did I get hit on the head with a coconut or something?”

Ford lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking crestfallen. “No, not quite. Do you – remember the argument we had?”

Nope, nope, feelings alert. Stan did not want to delve into that conversation.

“What argument? Probably about you being a nerd, huh? Jeez, am I hungry, you got any food in this joint?”

“Wha-”

Stan was already throwing the covers off (thank god he was wearing a nightrobe underneath, he didn’t think his pride could survive another hit). Ford spluttered as he got to his feet.

“Will you slow down?”

 ______________________________________________________________

After a couple tests which were obviously unnecessary (but Ford insist on anyway, the nerd) Stan was finally free to pull on some actual clothes and follow Ford to the kitchen. He hadn’t been lying earlier, hunger really was gnawing in his stomach, and he made a beeline for the fridge.

“-and so you were reverted back into a child,” Ford continued. The guy had absolutely no showmanship. Way to lose an audience, Stan muttered to himself as he grabbed the fridge door. He’d told him to start with the demon bit, but noooo. “That was a couple days ago. There have been some – well, it’s been eventful. I doubt you’ll believe me if I told you.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“By the way, my friend is on his way.” Ford added. Stan ducked down to inspect the fridge’s contents – at least it was better stocked than when he first arrived. He hummed in acknowledgement. “You – well, I suppose you won’t remember him. You’ll like him though. You did.”

“Is he a nerd liked you?”

Ford snorted.

Stan grabbed a box of leftover pasta and then went in search of a fork. “Well, let’s hope this Fiddleford guy can tell stories better than you, ya almost put me to sleep with the way you tell it.”

When he turned around, Ford was staring at him.

It took a moment for him to realize his mistake – by the time Stan opened his mouth to spew out some bullshit excuse, Ford was pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I didn’t tell you his name!”

“Yes you did!” Stan spluttered. “I mean, how else would I know his name unless you told me, huh? You ever think about that?”

Ford narrowed his eyes. “Stanley.”

“Stanford.” He parroted right back. The staring match continued for a few moments before Ford threw up his hands.

“Unbelievable! You’re such a liar.”

Stan took a large bite of pasta. Because he was hungry, not because he didn’t want to answer. Ford glared at him.

“I should have known you’d try to wriggle your way out of this. ‘I don’t remember’ my ass. What, were you just going to leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”

Stan shoveled more pasta into his mouth.

“Don’t think you can avoid talking with me. We are having this conversation whether you like it or not.”

‘No, we’re really not’ is what Stan meant to say. Unfortunately, the moment he took a breath to speak he started choking. Ford scowled and thumped him on the back as he coughed, getting bits of pasta all over the kitchen floor.

“Unbelievable.” The nerd said again.

 Well, so much for that.

  _______________________________________________________________

Stan squirmed under his brother’s glare – the whole ‘pacing and towering over him while Stan sat on the couch like a scolded child’ schtick was uncannily similar to what their mother would do when they earned her ire.

“So.” Ford began. “You remember childhood.”

“Yep.” Stan grumbled.

“Your adult life?”

“Mm hm.”

“The last couple days here and everything that occurred while you were reverted?”

“Mm.”

Ford stopped his pacing to turn to him. “Then why on earth did you try to pretend you didn’t? We even made up!”

Stan buried his face in his hands to try and hide its burning. “I don’t know! I knew you’d try and get all…” He shuddered. “Mushy. Feeling-y.”

Stan could just feel the flat look his brother was giving him.

“Okay, fine, look. You forgave me for breaking your project, I forgave you for being a jerk. We’re good. Now, I’m just gonna head home-”

“You’re homeless.”

“You don’t know that!” Stan looked up from behind his hands to see Ford folding his arms. “I could have a, a house, a mansion even!”

“You have a mullet.”

…okay, Ford had him there. Stan scowled. “What’s the plan then, smart guy?”

Ford’s eyes gleamed, and he immediately regretted asking.

“I’m glad you asked, Stanley! I’ve had plenty of time to think over these last couple days. First of all, the Duskertons are looking for someone to help around their store, and no one in Gravity Falls cares much about credentials – I’m pretty sure the man who works at the post office is just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat ­– so your lack if identification shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for a job. There’s also Boyish Dan, his family owns a logging company and I’m sure you could get a place there if you wanted. You’re welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need – I’m sure there are some places in town if you want to rent instead, though. If you choose to stay I might ask for your help in some of my research, since Fiddleford has decided to take a break from studying Gravity Falls, which I don’t blame him for.”

Stan blinked, but Ford wasn’t finished, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.

“I’ll also need to keep you under observation for a while to ensure that there are no side effects from the fountain of youth water, so I’ll ask you to stay around for at least a couple days. If you decide to leave Gravity Falls after that period, you’ll need to give me your phone number so we can keep contact. Oh, scratch that, I’ll make a new one – I’m sure I can work up a design that isn’t as flimsy as the current models going around.”

“Uh-”

Stan was saved from having to answer (answer? There wasn’t much of a question but Ford was looking at him expectantly and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say) by a light knock on the door. Ford perked up and rushed to answer it.

“Am I intruding?” Fiddleford’s hesitant voice rang out. Ford shook his head and stood aside to usher the smaller man inside.

“Not at all, come in. It’s good to see you.”

Fiddleford stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Stan on the couch.

Ugh, he was already getting a headache. Now came the judgement. Stan looked like a mess, he knew he did – unshaven, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair and old scars crisscrossing his arms. Some small, childish part of him wanted to jump up and hug the guy. Gross. Instead he shoved down the nervousness, stood, and gave him a lazy two-fingered salute.

“…Stanley?” Fiddleford tilted his head, eyes scanning him. Stanley shrugged uncomfortably. It was weird, towering over the small guy like this.

“Hey.”

“Well, you grew up big. The spittin’ image of yer brother.” Fiddleford gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure meetin’ ya, officially this time.”

“Eh, you too.” Stan shook the offered hand. It was small, frail, but gripped his firmly.

“So are you stickin’ around?”

Stan hesitated. He glanced from Fiddleford’s earnest face, to his own rough hand, to Ford’s careful expression – the look of someone trying hard not to look like they were listening.

“…yeah. Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick around.”

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 16)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 15

When Dex steps into Chowder’s bedroom, his single knock on the open door no more than a nostalgic habit, these days, as opposed to a present requirement, he’s certainly not expecting to be faced with, well. With this.

“What’re you doing?”

Chowder looks up. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with a myriad of different colored post-it notes spread out around him. Dex crouches down, picking up a couple of the notes (yellow and pink, respectively) to skim through their contents. Louis, helped solve Halloween cupcake disaster, 2 points. Hops, volunteered to do dishes entire week, 6 points.

Dex raises both eyebrows towards Chowder. Chowder, meanwhile, is staring down at the colorful mess surrounding him with a decidedly troubled expression. He sighs.

“I’m figuring out my dibs.”

“With a points system?” Dex prompts. He’s not sure if he’s impressed or concerned. “Looks ambitious.”

“I just don’t want anyone to think that I’m being unfair,” Chowder explains glumly. He picks up a green post-it (Jader, gave up half his vanilla scone at breakfast, 1 point) and stares at it dejectedly. “Or that I don’t care about them. Oh no, what if I pick Jader, and then Joyo inevitably assumes that I hate him? I could never do that to Joyo."

“Dude,” Dex says. He’s trying very hard not to smile. “You don’t have to make a decision yet, you know? It’s not even Christmas.”

Chowder frowns.

“It's almost Christmas.”

“I suppose,” Dex agrees carefully. “Are you sure this isn’t just some big procrastination project? Got any big finals looming, hm?”

“Finals,” Chowder scoffs. “Are finals really more important than the precious feelings of our hardworking underclassmen?”

“Oh my God. What’s all this?”

Nursey strolls into the room without knocking. He places a kiss on top of Dex’s head and then plops himself down between Dex and Chowder, his hand lingering softly at Dex’s nape.

“Chowder is having a bit of a dibs crisis,” Dex fills him in.

“Oh, man. Hard same.” Nursey frowns. “I was dead set on giving mine to Ford. Of course Ollie and Wicks had to go and snag her, first.”

“She and Tango seem pretty happy up in the attic, though,” Dex points out. "And this way, you get to be hausmates with both of them this year."

“I suppose that's true," Nursey allows. Then he shrugs. "And I guess I’ve still got Louis. He’s let me borrow his good bluetooth speakers basically this whole semester, so. Might be an option."

“What?” Chowder exclaims. “No, wait, I might pick Louis. You two couldn't maybe give me some time to figure this out, before you stake your claims?"

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, C,” Dex tells him gently.

“That’s definitely not how it works,” Nursey agrees, his grin playful yet his tone kind. “If there’s someone you have in mind, Chow, you should just go for it. You snooze, you lose."

Chowder whips his head around, aiming his wide, pleading eyes at Dex.

“You’re not considering Louis, too, are you?”

“Honestly? I wish I was considering anyone.” Dex sighs. “I would’ve gone with Whiskey, but obviously that’s out, and I feel like the Waffles have gotten this strange aversion to doing any of those dibs type favors for me since I became captain. I think they don’t want to act like they’re sucking up for the wrong reasons, or something.”

“Maybe give them some proper incentive?” Nursey suggests merrily. “If word got out that you’re, like, completely undecided about dibs, I’m sure both the Waffles and the Scones would be falling all over themselves to please you. Might be fun to watch.”

“Nah. I’ll figure it out eventually.” Dex shrugs. “Graduation is still really far away. I’m not gonna worry about it, yet.”

“It’s not that far away,” Chowder disagrees. He sounds serious. “Guys, it’s almost Christmas. That means we're graduating in less than six months.”

Dex very nearly flinches. Six months? How is that even possible?

“That can’t be right,” Nursey says slowly. His expression has turned uncharacteristically unchill. “Fuck. Why haven’t I applied to more grad programs, yet?”

“I need to start looking at job listings more seriously,” Chowder chimes in. He's looking down at his post-its with an expression that’s unusually difficult to read. “I guess I can't put it off forever."

“Hey,” Dex says. He’s trying his best to sound reasonable, despite his own inner turmoil. Suddenly, the feeling of Nursey’s hand that’s still resting at his nape seems more important than ever. “It’s not over yet. We’ve still got a whole semester.”

“Yeah,” Nursey says quickly. “Yeah, you’re right. And even after, it’s not like you guys are ever gonna be rid of me. Got your backs, remember?”

“That's true,” Chowder agrees quietly. He’s not smiling, Dex notes with no small amount of concern. Especially considering the fact that Chowder kind of hasn't smiled at all since the start of this conversation. His whole expression looks wrong, somehow, without that familiar spark of effortless joy. “It’s all happening so fast. I wish everything could slow down, just a bit.”

“We’re just gonna have to make every moment count,” Dex says firmly. Impulsively, he reaches for Chowder’s shoulder. “We’re here for you, man. You know that, right? We're always gonna look out for each other. Always."

“Of course. Yeah, of course.” Thankfully, that seems to do the trick – Chowders lips curl into a soft grin. "Ugh. I think I'm just gonna go through my notes for that UX design final one more time. Can't be more stressful than trying to choose a single Waffle for dibs."

"Or a Scone," Nursey reminds him brightly. "There's some good freshies, too, let's not forget."

"Says you, who's got your eye on Louis, too," Chowder points out with an amused roll of his eyes. "I may be panicking, Nurse, but I'm certainly not stupid."

"Ah, and here though myself completely subtle." Nursey grins. "Weren't you gonna study?"

"Actually, yes." Chowder gets to his feet, only to immediately pause. He narrows his eyes towards Nursey. "But if you lock down Louis while I'm stuck cramming user interface design techniques, you can expect some serious payback."

"Chill, man." Nursey's grin softens. "Look, I haven't actually decided on Louis yet, but if it would make you feel better we could have some sort of dibs treaty until the end of finals week. After that, it's anyone's game. Sounds good?"

"I suppose that’s fair." Chowder nods, and Dex is relieved to see the genuine smile he offers in return. "I think I left my books downstairs, so. See you guys later."

He pads out of his room, leaving Dex and Nursey alone in the sea of post-its.

Immediately, Nursey scoots a little closer to Dex.

"Just us, huh," he remarks, his tone a clear attempt at casual even though his smile indicates otherwise. "D'you wanna get lunch, or something?"

Dex hesitates.

"I've actually got some things I need to work on," he says carefully. "Could we maybe meet up later?"

"Sure. Of course." Nursey's response comes just a little bit too quickly. "That's chill, man. Whatever you need."

Dex studies his boyfriend's expression for a moment. It's been a concern of his, ever since he started setting aside time to work on his secret project, that Nursey might eventually start to realise there's something Dex isn't telling him. Dex has been monitoring carefully for any sign of doubt or confusion on Nursey's end, and this is the first time he thinks he's seeing exactly that in the subtle frown that's replaced Nursey's relaxed smile from a moment earlier. Obviously, it's the opposite of what Dex hopes to achieve with his secrecy.

Thankfully, the solution is very simple.

"Hey," Dex says quietly. "It's for you."

Nursey looks puzzled.

"I'm doing something for you," Dex clarifies. "That's why I've been a little busy, lately. It's going to be a surprise."

"Oh," Nursey says. He sounds surprised, already. "You're… Huh. What is it?"

Dex grins softly.

"A surprise. Duh."

Nursey raises a curious eyebrow.

"Don't I get a hint?"

"You really don't understand the concept of a surprise, do you?"

"Fine. Be that way." Nursey smiles a little excitedly, and Dex relaxes a bit. "I suppose I'll see you at dinner, then? The guys all want to go to Jerrys.”

"Actually, can we do dinner just you and me?" Dex asks quickly. "There's been so much team stuff, lately, and I've honestly kind of missed us. Tonight, I want to just... Order in. Preferably from someplace that makes a mean garlic bread. And after, we should put on Netflix and get in bed so I can cuddle you while you rant about the dubious plot changes in another one of those Austen adaptations."

Nursey blinks. For some reason, he's staring at Dex with a serious look in his eyes, one that's only vaguely familiar.

"What?" Dex asks, a little self-consciously. Was it something he said? “You like those period dramas. Don’t you?”

Nursey drops his gaze. He takes Dex's hands in his and holds them gently, almost like they're something delicate, like Dex is someone precious and worthy of protection.

"You're in love with me," he says quietly. "Aren't you?"

Oh, shit.

It's true, is the thing. And honestly, Nursey can’t have been unaware of it up until this moment. Really, he must have known. Dex might never have said it in so many words, and they’ve technically only dated for a few months, but it’s not like either of them are blind to the fact that they were dancing around this thing between them for several years, before. That goodnight kiss out on the porch at the very first kegster of the fall was never the beginning.

Dex briefly considers making some sort of joke to downplay this moment, if only to stop Nursey from being completely obnoxious about it in a minute or so. Except, the heavy look in Nursey’s eyes compels him to make a different choice.

"Yeah," Dex says, almost steadily. "I am in love with you. Quite hopelessly, actually."

Nursey’s breath hitches. He squeezes Dex hands tightly, and then he’s leaning over, capturing Dex’s lips in a fiercely desperate kiss that leaves Dex completely breathless. And if Dex didn’t feel it so completely, just then, in every achingly delicate touch of Nursey’s fingers against his cheek, his throat, all the way down his chest, he might’ve been a bit anxious about the fact that, technically, Nursey didn’t actually say it back.

As it is, Dex isn’t worried. If anything, he’s amused.

“You’re welcome,” he chirps gently after they break apart. “I guess I should be thankful you didn’t just tell me to chill, or whatever.”

“Fuck you, man,” Nursey breathes out, his voice breaking in a way Dex didn’t expect at all. “Also, just, shut up, okay? You already know that I’m writing literal fucking poetry about you, about your freckles and your eyes and your hips and your smile and your stupid fucking lips, okay. I’d like to think you’ve been able to safely assume that I’m more than casually into you.”

“I’d like to think that’s the impression I’ve given you, too,” Dex says slowly. He feels a little confused. Suddenly, he’s tempted to drag Nursey across campus to the wood workshop and just show him, right now, to expose everything that he’s dreaming and hoping and wishing. “Nursey. Hey, Nurse. Look at me.”

“No, you’re right.” Nursey takes a breath. He meets Dex’s eyes with a watery smile. “I don’t know, man. It just hits differently, when you say it out loud. Feels more real. It’s like you spoke it into existence.”

“Maybe something for your next poem,” Dex teases gently. This moment feels too fragile, somehow. He racks his brain for some way to break the tension. “Did you ever read me the one about my hips?”

“Um.” Quickly, Nursey looks away, his smile suddenly more of a bashful grin. Bingo. “Did I mention that one, just now?”

“You did.” Dex grins, too, taking in Nursey’s clearly flustered expression with interest. Oh, this is gonna be good. “Tonight, okay? Read it to me, tonight.”

“I don’t… It’s not my most coherent work, probably.” Nursey clears his throat, and Dex grins a little wider. It’s not often that he manages to make Nursey this unsettled. “I mean, I’ll see if I can find it.”

“Suppose I’ll just have to inspire a new one, if you don’t,” Dex suggests slyly.

“Actually,” Nursey breathes out, already moving to climb into Dex’s lap. “That sounds-”

“Oh my God!” Chowder exclaims from the still open door. “We’ve been over this! You both have your own rooms, okay, you’ve literally got zero excuses for getting your freak on right in the middle of-”

Dex presses his lips briefly against Nursey’s before scrambling to his feet, quickly slipping past Chow into the hallway.

“Sorry, Chowder!” he calls out over his shoulder as he takes the stairs two steps at a time. “Love you, Nurse! Bye!”

“That’s a fine, isn’t it?” Pips calls from the living room as Dex practically sprints past. “Hey, wait! Major fine! Pay the fuck up!”

Dex let’s the door to the Haus fall shut behind him. As he makes the now familiar trek across campus, he doesn’t stop smiling for a single moment.

ch. 17

[detectivejigsawpines]

Guilt Trip

One night on the Stan O’War, Ford has a particularly vivid nightmare regarding his own guilt.

Based on conversations I had with marehami and with people on this one Discord server; just a small drabble plot bunny that bit me.

Another 500 volts of electricity sent Ford thrashing and screaming, as much as he was capable with the chains that bound him in place.

When it finally ended, he sagged and tried to regain his control, even though by now that was probably a long-lost battle.

“You know, IQ, sooner or later you’re gonna have to give in,” Bill purred.  One tiny black finger reached out and stroked his cheek, pretending to be affectionate.  He tried to pull away, but the arm just stretched to stay in place.  “I mean, you can’t keep up this self-righteous act forever!”

“...Watch me,” Ford whispered.  He spat at Bill’s feet, not caring that there was a worrying amount of red mixed in with the saliva.  “If it means protecting my world from you, I think I can handle it for as long as it takes!”

“Oh, please.”  Bill rolled his eye.  “You’re seriously trying to act like you’re some kind of hero, after everything you’ve done?  Face it, boy, you’re no better than me.”

“What?!”  Ford finally jerked his head back up, in a mixture of shock and outrage.  “I’m nothing like you!”

Bill cackled, and leaned on his cane.  “Y’know, it’s funny how often people say that about the people who they’ve got the most in common with.  Take, for example, this!”  He waved his hand, and a glowing blue light appeared in it; after a second it rearranged its shape into the form of-a striped necktie.

Ford recognized it immediately; his heart sank.

“Remember how much it freaked you out to have me using you as your meat puppet?” Bill asked, pulling the tie open and then draping it over Ford’s head.  Once it was around his neck, he cinched it tight, making spots flicker in front of the old man’s eyes as his air was cut off.  “But then you let your own niece and nephew do exactly that to your own brother!  Yeesh, that’s just cold!  You didn’t even do your own dirty work, you got kids to do it for you!  I’m honestly impressed!”

“I-I didn’t-”

Bill wasn’t done.

“And then, when you decided Pinetree was just a mini you, you were gonna try to kick everyone else out of his life so you could have him all to yourself, and get him to do your bidding!  Sound familiar?”

...Ford couldn’t even try to defend himself.

“In a way, Stanford, you’re an even bigger monster than I am!”  Bill ruffled his hair, which sent a small static shock through his arm; he just seemed amused by it.  “At least people know not to trust me!  You actually con other people into thinking you’re a semi-decent person on a regular basis!”  The walls of the Fearamid shook with his laughter.

“...But I’ve changed!”  Ford looked up a little desperately.  “I’m a better man than I used to be!  I’m a better brother and uncle than I’ve ever been!”

“...Right.  You say that now, but I wonder what’s gonna happen the next time Stanley does something that makes you mad?”  Bill tilted to the side and rubbed the spot under his eye thoughtfully.  “You gonna give him time to pack his bags, or are you just gonna throw him out on his ear as soon as you reach a port?”

“I’m not going to throw him out!  Not ever again!”  Ford’s dignity crumpled, and he struggled against his chains, snarling at the triangle.  “I’m not like that anymore!  I never will be!  NEVER!”

...He realized, when his eyes flew open, that sometimes the stereotype about waking up in a cold sweat could be quite true.

********

For a minute all Ford could do was lie in his bunk, taking deep breaths in an effort to make his heart stop racing.  Finally, though, he pulled his glasses on, and sat up until he was facing his twin’s bunk.

“Stanley?” he whispered.

No response; the lump in the blankets didn’t even stir.

“Stanley?” he called, a little louder.

That was enough to make him twist around, and a second later sleepy brown eyes fluttered open.

“...Wha…?”

“You know I’m sorry for giving the children a mind control tie to use on you, right?”

Stan blinked, slowly.

“I never should have done that to you, no matter what our relationship was like at the time.  I know it was unforgivable of me, and I swear I will never do anything like that to you again.  And I will never try to kick you off this boat either.”

“...Considering it was technically bought with my money, it’s not like you’ve even got the right to.”  Stan rubbed some grit out of his eyes with his thumb.

“Nevertheless, I’m sorry I did any of that to you.”  Ford was embarrassed to feel moisture building in his own eyes, and blinked hard to try to get rid of it.

Stan squinted at him through the darkness for a minute...and then nodded.  “Apology accepted.  Now go away so I can go back to sleep.”

The casual, somewhat annoyed, forgiveness was enough to make Ford smile around the lump rising in his throat.

Stan just burrowed back down into the blankets.  “I swear, you keep me up more than the kids ever did.  Even when Mabel was havin’ one of those crazy sleepovers.”  The last part partially trailed off in a yawn.

Ford swallowed, and said hoarsely, “I wasted forty years not driving you crazy like I was supposed to; I’m just trying to make up for it now.”

“Well, drive me crazy during waking hours so I can appreciate it better.”

Despite the grumpy words, he smiled a little when he felt a six-fingered hand gently ruffle his hair, and then the blankets getting tucked more securely around him.

********

Don’t worry, it’s not Bill coming back from the dead; it’s just Ford’s own guilty conscience come to haunt him.

...Probably.

[marawritingstuff]

ASHES

Gwen twisted her finger in her short black hair.  Normally, she loved the 500-mile drive from St. Louis to Detroit, the fields filled with horses and cows. Except on holidays, few cars cluttered the highway until she got close to the city.  She cherished her visits to her Aunt Ann with her oversized sweaters and non-stop cups of tea.    Aunt Ann wasn’t her destination today.

           Four hours on the road signaled the half-way point.   She pulled her rusty Camry into a rest stop.   Time to get, yuk, vending machine burning coffee to keep her awake for the rest of the ride.    Gwen even missed her boring job of entering columns of useless data, anything but visiting someone she was supposed to call “father.”   She downed the rest of her coffee and made her way back to the car.

           It had been more than twenty years since she had seen her father, and that was merely a glance across the room at her cousin’s graduation.    The situation was a dire one now.   The diagnosis of Stage IV lung cancer left only one outcome.   He squandered his life on two or maybe three packs of cigarettes a day.    Was it the guilt from what he did?   No, Gwen thought to herself, the man she knew felt no guilt.

           Dang.  She almost missed her exit.   Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she turned off the interstate and made her way to the medical center.   Due to all the problems with Aunt Ann, she was very familiar with Henry Ford Hospital, so it didn’t take her long to find the information desk and the bored volunteer behind it.

           “What room is James Harper in, please,” Gwen inquired.

           “OH! Are you family?”

           “Yes, I’m his daughter,” Gwen said, sighing to herself.

“He is in intensive care, room 201,” the flustered volunteer proclaimed.  “You will

need to stop at the desk at the ICU to gain access.  Do you need directions, I can . . .”?

           “No, I know my way,” Gwen said, already making her way down the hallway.

As instructed, Gwen checked in at the ICU and strolled to her father’s room.  She felt like covering her nose from the antiseptic smell of the hospital but thought twice.

           As she entered the room, she saw a thin figure laying on the bed hooked up to five or six machines. She supposed the purpose was to keep him alive.  She stifled a laugh when she caught sight of the thin frame in the bed, never remembering him under 300 lbs.  Though it disgusted her, Gwen sat in the chair next to her father.

           Within minutes, a nurse came bounding in.

           “Ms. Harper?”

           “Yes.”

           “A doctor will be in to speak with you in a few minutes,” she said, her body shaking at every word.   If the staff only knew how she really felt.

           “Thank you.”

           She continued to look at her father.   She wondered if he could hear her.  The relevancy was immaterial.   There were no more chances for confrontations.

           “O.k., asshole, the time has come. Forty-years later for you to pay.  No last rites for you. I may have only been five, but I know everything that happened that day.”

Gwen was transported back to her five-year-old self. On that snow bound day when

everything changed.  Six feet of oppressive snow trapped Gwen’s family in their tiny three

bedroom home.  The portrait of her family was the usual one; nine-year-old brother Luke watching tv, Dad eating a sandwich on the couch, mom outside working, and Gwen in the corner trying not to make noise.  Hours passed when Mom came in, tears streaming down her face.

           “What’s wrong with you,” Gwen’s father bellowed, his face scrunched up.

           “I can’t shovel anymore.  My back and my hands hurt so much.”

           “The driveway isn’t uncovered yet.”

           Gwen’s mom started to ball.   Gwen didn’t think she would ever stop.

           “Fine.   Give me that stupid shovel and I’ll do it myself.”

           Gwen’s father stomped out of the house.   Luke and Gwen ran to the window waiting for the emanate eruption.      As her father started shoveling, Gwen noticed a strange black figure coming down from the sky.  

           “Luke do you see,” pointing to the figure.

           “Stop making up stuff again, stupid head.”

           This was not the first time Gwen had seen things that others had not. Before she had time to consider the figure further, her mother let out an ear-piercing screech.  Their gaze turned to their father, now laying on the hard ice.  None of them wasted time getting to his side.

           The deep groaning.  Their mother’s scream. Her brother’s crying. These would be imprinted on Gwen’s memory forever.  But above all was the black figure descending upon them.   As it came closer Gwen recognized the shaped as a coal black angel, with wings spanning twice the size of the already seven-foot body.

           “I need to speak to your father, little one, “it said to Gwen, in a voice that shook the child.

           “I’m too scared.”

           “Shut up Gwen, we are all scared,” her mother screeched.

           “I’m talking to the black angel.  He wants to talk to Dad.”

           “Not your stupidness, now,” her mother said, tears running like a river.

           Gwen’s father’s eyes grew large.  It was then that Gwen knew he could see the angel, too.  

           “YOU’RE DEATH AREN’T YOU,” he cried.

           The black angel looked at Gwen and repeated:

           “He can’t hear me.  You have to talk for me.”

           “WHAT, I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Gwen’s father squealed again.

           “I can hear him, Dad,” Gwen said, shaking, waiting for her father’s response.

           “Well, tell me fool.”

           “You are going to die now.”

           Gwen repeated the angel’s words and her father burst out in tears.

           “But you can sacrifice two for one.”

           Gwen tried her best to repeat again, though she didn’t understand the word “sacrifice.”     “I don’t understand,” her father said through the tears.

           “Choose two to take your place.”

           Gwen barely finished when her father began to shout out.

           “Take the girl and my wife.”

           Her mother, who had thought her husband was hallucinating, jumped in.

           “Take me where,” she began to ask.

           However, before she finished her thought, the angel swiped her mother into his large black wings and held her tight on one side.

           The angel reached for Gwen.

           “I never wanted that stupid child anyway,” her father said.

           “Do you truly want to make a sacrifice,” the angel said, and Gwen repeated.

           “YES.  YES,” My father shouted.

           The angel turned away from Gwen and swiped up her brother in its other wing.

           “What are you doing, take the girl,” her father shouted.

           “Only something you care about can be a sacrifice.”

           Gwen repeated to her father.

           Before he could say anything more, the angel closed his wings, and what once was Gwen’s mother and brother turned into ashes.  The black angel skyrocketed into the air, back where it came from.

           My father got unto his knees.  Perfectly fine but sobbing uncontrollably.  

           “My boy, it took my boy, and left me the little bitch.”

           The story simply became that Luke and her mother were lost in the storm.   For some reason, the police never really questioned the ludicrous explanation.   It became apparent that her father had no interest in taking care of Gwen and she spent the rest of her juvenile years living with aunt Ann.

             Now she was here, watching him die.  

           “Help me,” he whimpered.

           “Help you what,” Gwen asked.

           Gwen turned her head to the end of the bed already knowing what she would find. The black angel.

           “Hello, old friend,” Gwen whispered.

           This time she only got a nod.

           “Sorry, old man, there is no help for you this time.”

           Gwen slunk back into the chair and waited.  And waited.  Deep into the night, an unidentified doctor came in and told her some sob story about them doing “everything possible.”  

           Then it happened.   He began gagging.  All the machines seemed to go quiet.   The nurses came in, giving their apologies.   Then asking what she wanted to do with her “father.”

           “Burn it,” Gwen declared, winking her eye at the soaring Black Angel.

[gilbirda]

Transcendence

The switching Stans plan was supposed to work, but they failed. And now, Mabel has to face the consequences.

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

She never thought nothing of it. Really, what could go wrong? They managed to stop the Weirmageddon in time with the help of everyone in Gravity Falls, betting everything they have to save their beloved town. But when the bright light subsided, the Pines family knew something went wrong. Horribly wrong. Because Dipper was missing and Mabel couldn’t move at all.

Scared, she started to call for her brother, her brown eyes focusing in things randomly, searching for a sign that he was with her.

“Mabel!”, she faintly heard her uncle Ford scream and her vision tunneled in his face. “Mabel, can you hear me?” She couldn’t nod but focused in his eyes trying to talk through them. “Good, you are here with us.” Then she heard another voice nearby but couldn’t make the words. “Yes, she is fine. No, not responding. We must go back with the others.”

Mabel felt her body be carried in someone’s arms, but she couldn’t see who it was. Everything happened so slowly and yet so fast and bright… Someone please turn off that light! It was hurting her eyes. She could heard voices muffled in the distance, worried voices, but none of them was her brother’s.

Where was Dipper?

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

She woke in a strange bed that wasn’t hers. At least the room was dark enough and her eyes adjusted perfectly fine to it. She yawned and stretched, feeling the blissful pop in her back and joints. Somehow Mabel felt like a new person, fully rested and prepared for a new day with…

Dipper.

He wasn’t beside her or anywhere in the room, sleeping.

The panic came back, thoughts and memories of their attempt to kill Bill Cipher whirling in her mind, and the same awful feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought that oh my god where’s Dipper.

She ran downstairs realising by the pictures on the walls that this was Soos’ house, feeling the tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes as the real fact of the destruction of Gravity Falls settled in her mind. The Shack, her sweaters, the memories… gone. They would have to rebuild everything from scratch and Dipper wasn't here.

“Oh, she's awake”, said Abuelita while putting more coffee in a jar on the battered table. Her uncles, Wendy and Soos where sitting there silently sipping their drink and seemingly lost in their thoughts until Ford came back to reality and ran to her.

“Mabel, dear, how are you? Do you feel dizzy? Unwell? Possessed?”, he took out his small light and blinded the girl with it. The panicked voice told her that something was really wrong, and not just her brother's disappearance.

“Leave the kid alone, brother. She looks fine enough for me”, Stan murmured sounding very tired and old. Mabel remembered the swap her uncles made to trick Bill, but Stan seemed to be ok and knowing who they were. At her evident confused face, he answered her questions. “We failed, kid. Bill saw through our plan in the last moment and escaped, but was disintegrated in the process… or that's what brains here thinks happened.” Ford nodded.

“Bill lost his physical form and couldn't go back the moment he entered Stanley's mind. When cornered, realised what we plotted and part of his energy got out.” Ford sighed visibly uncomfortable.

“Dipper….”, the girl whispered as a question. Everyone in the room looked away from her tear-stained face.

“We… we don't know, Mabes”, Stan said softly, a comforting hand in her shoulder.

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

She didn't eat or sleep for days, refusing to move away from the bed and only accepting the water that Wendy or Abuelita brought her every few hours. Mabel seemed to have lost her will to live, the sparkle in her eyes gone like her brother and more than one thought that Mabel wasn't going to last much.

Word had spread about the tragedy and many considered a funeral for the little Pines boy, but Mabel insisted that he wasn't dead. Dipper couldn't be dead. She swore she could feel him somewhere with the twins ESP (Ford cocked an eyebrow at this), but after three days nobody believed her. Even Mabel started to entertain the thought of Dipper's death when her family left her alone.

Until one restless night, she opened her eyes and saw the world in grey scale.

“...el…”, she heard. Mabel looked everywhere trying to find the source of the voice. “...bel” the voice repeated. It was a boy's voice, but it was so distorted that could be anyone's.

“Mabel!”

“AAAAH!”

The girl fell on her butt and looked up to see… Dipper. Tears pooled on her eyes, happy to see him at last and ignoring the fact that he was translucid. She ran to his arms, crying, mumbling about how lonely she has been and how happy she was to see that he was ok and was coming back.

“Mabel…”, his tone carried multiple voices in one, like whispers floating on the wind. Mabel liked none of that.

“Dipper?”, she asked feeling more confused when he didn’t hug back. “Are you ok?”

The boy watched her with a strange glint in his eyes and a sad expression, as if this was a painful experience for him. He took her hands in his and smiled briefly before getting serious again and spoke:

“Mabel, I’m sorry. I’m afraid…”, he looked elsewhere as his voice cracked in a weird way, “I’m afraid we’ll never see each other again.”

She felt that her whole world fell apart in that moment. Mabel didn’t want to believe him, but if Dipper said so then it must be true. She trusted her brother, but still she had to ask.

“Why…?”

“Mabes, I’m dead. Can’t you see it?” He got back a few steps and stood in the middle of the grey room. His feet didn’t touch the ground and now the girl could see that his body wasn’t really opaque. Oh no. “I died that day, when we killed Bill. Yes, he is dead”, he added when his sister opened her mouth to ask, “and he is gone for. But… Some of his energy escaped from Stan’s mind and got to us in time to survive, like a symbiote, and still lives within us. Within you.” He made a face at the correction.

“And you? Why am I alive?”, tears were running down her cheeks uncontrollably. Her brother was really dead. Dipper wouldn’t come back.

“The energy in me wasn’t enough to protect me from the explosion, but yours was greater. I guess you were the superior twin after all”, the smile in his lips was everything but happy. “Mabes, I…”

He was interrupted by a loud noise from somewhere in the background and the place started to melt. Walls dissolving like a candle burning to its end, the grey-and-white room was slowly warning her that her dream was coming to an end. No, no, no. She didn’t want to wake up!

“Dipper!”, she exclaimed running to her brother, but when she jumped to his arms, instead of getting her very needed hug, Mabel found herself on the trembling floor and with a sore shoulder.

“It’s my time, then”, the boy looked at his hands beginning to disappear and smiled again to his sister. “I love you, Mabel.”

“No!”

“I hope you remember me, as a part of myself will live inside of you forever.” His feet were now gone and his signature pine tree hat was dissolving like sand on the wind.

“No, Dipper. NO!”

“Be happy”, he closed his eyes.

And just like that, all that was left of her brother exploded in tiny little particles floating in mid-air over the carpet she was sitting on. Before she could see what they were clearly, it floated to her chest and passed through her clothes directly to her skin, and a weird warmth condensed in her heart. She could feel it get bigger and bigger, making it difficult to breathe, arching her back.

She opened the eyes she didn’t know were closed and found herself floating in the colored room, the real room, and she was shining brighter than the Sun. On the door, she spotted her uncles and Wendy watching her with their mouth so open that they could swallow a few flies, a hand at the level of the eyes to protect them from the light.

Then, something inside of her snapped and she fell unceremoniously to the floor with a loud thud.

“Mabel!”, she heard Ford before she could see him. Someone took one of her hands and a gloved hand checked her pulse. “Are you ok?”

“Dipper…”, she managed to say.

“Did you see him? Where?” Stanley looked confused.

“He… He is gone, Grunkle”, her voice broke and Mabel felt tears start to fall again. “Dipper is dead.”

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

The following days were similar to the ones before, but now Mabel refused to go back to her bed. She spent her days sitting on a chair in the living room, watching everyone move around without saying another word. She slept sometimes, but it was scarce. Alas, she never looked really tired.

Ford started to suspect that something had happened that day she woke up being a Star. Something big, and something connected to Bill Cipher. When his grand-niece showed unconscious control over things -stuff floating in mid-air or catching fire without reason, and the like-, Ford felt like crying.

Not only had they lost their precious Dipper, but Mabel was becoming something else. Something dangerous. Demonic.

When he first approached the girl about this, she just held his stare and said nothing, creeping everyone in the room, listening to Ford’s explanation of how this could have happened. He thought that Bill’s energy had a consciousness of its own and attached itself to the twins, trying to survive, transforming their bodies into a more appropriate vessel. The changes may be slow, but they would definitely see it sometime soon. He didn’t say anything about Dipper’s death or strange “fusion” with his sister, but she understood nonetheless.

Mabel just nodded and let herself fall into the catatonic state again when her uncle finished. No more tears or screams. The girl seemed to accept what was happening to her without fight in her body, and the people in the room were afraid that it was too late for her mind. That she was going insane, and that was a word they would not like to associate to their beloved Mabel. It was just too much like him.

As more days passed, the new mayor declared the “Never Mind All That” Act, and started the rebuilding of their town as if a end-of-the-world catastrophe never happened. When the Shack was recovered from the ashes of the battle, the Pines moved to their new home with a broken Mabel lost in her mind, trying not to cry when she walked up the stairs to their… her room with her distant eyes and pale skin.

She didn’t came out for days.

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

But the dreams came back. Almost everyday, even when she thought she was awake, Mabel saw the evil figure she didn’t want to see ever again in her life. He laughed at her demise, he taunted her, mocked her, made fun of her loss. “Where’s Pine Tree?”, he usually asked, and if he had a mouth she was sure he’d be smiling like crazy.

At first the girl screamed at him, cried, punched him; anything to vent her rage and sorrow. Dipper was dead and she was becoming a… demon, all because a stupid triangle wanted to take over the world. She wanted to die, then. If Dipper wasn’t coming back to her she didn’t want to go on anymore.

She asked the demon. “Just finish me already”, she whispered one lonely night a week later in her black-and-white room at the renewed Shack. “Kill me so I can be at peace with my brother.”

“I can’t do that, Shooting Star”, he said twirling his signature cane in one finger. “And I guess you know it as well as I do.”

She somehow knew he was right, somewhere deep inside told her she just couldn’t

It was one evening when she jumped from the roof and Wendy found her broken body on a bush, crying and bleeding like hell, but definitely alive and awake, that she accepted this new feature of her new reality: She wasn’t going to die anytime soon. Maybe never. An eternity of this was all that was left for her.

Would she age? She didn’t know, but the thought of watching everyone she loved die before her eyes was frightening, even more that the growing powers inside her.

She the cursed everything, wishing for it to disappear. If she couldn’t die, she didn’t want a world where she had loved so much and had been so happy. But the cruel destiny, and a cruel demon triangle, wouldn’t even grant her wish.

“Woah there, girl. You might want to rethink that wish”, he said in one dream but Mabel could hear the underlying mocking tone. “You what they say, it might become true.”

And next morning nothing happened. With all her powers, all the time of the world, and she couldn’t have her one and only wish granted.

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

As months passed, she had to sit and watch her grunkles worry about her condition, as Ford used to say when they talked about it, when Mabel seemed to sleep less and less to the point that at night she didn’t have anything to do but go to the dreamscape out of boredom. She didn’t need to eat as well, and just sat there watching them eat with her empty eyes, creeping them until she decided to wait for them to eat anywhere else on the house. Stan felt guilty when he was relieved by her decision instead of worried.

And her parents? They lied to them, saying that the twins wanted so hard to stay in Gravity Falls, that they had a home tutor for them. Ford searched his old professor documents and send them by fax (changing his name, since Mabel’s parents didn’t know about Ford and explaining it would mean explaining about Weirdmaggedon) until it was settled that “the twins” could stay. Stan cried for the first time in many years when the call ended. He had failed to everyone, he was supposed to protect the children from harm this summer and he failed.

The summer ended and Mabel got the hang of her new powers, Bill’s powers. She almost could hear his voice on her ear teaching her how to do it. Levitation, flying and making stuff float at will was as easy as breathing now, and small sparks of blue fire appeared on her fingertips when she got angry for whatever reason. The Pines household had accepted the new condition and no longer horrified them, so when she confessed she was being visited by the triangle demon on her “dreams” Ford didn’t even flinch. He has begun to accept that Mabel wasn’t going to turn back to normal. Not when he could almost hear the cursed voice of the bane of his existence on her words. Her eyes no longer full of wonder, but a void so deep and black with a little twist of madness.

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

The first time that Mabel realised that she couldn’t feel anything was on her own funeral. Watching her parents cry before the empty tombs of her brother and hers she couldn’t bring any grief or sadness to surface, not even one little tear came to her call and her deep brown eyes observed with curiosity as her mother broke down on her father’s arms, the loud sobs filling the enormous cemetery they were burying the little coffins made for the lost twins that died in an “accident” back in Gravity Falls. Just a little fire in the forest near the house and her parents believed that neither body could be found on the ashes.

She knew it was necessary to fake their death up to some point, but time passed so fast now that when Ford asked her to make the fire on the anniversary of Weirdmaggedon it seemed like a blink of the eye for her. Being a creature of pure energy was starting to weigh down on her and it was now that she took notice of her aging grunkles with even more wrinkles that last summer, while she remained the same.

“Oh”, she had said then before turning back to the backyard to fake her own death.

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

When Soos got married, three years later, everyone had already moved on from the loss of the little Pine twins and her name was written somewhere in a slab on the main road. The ceremony was small, just a few friends and family of the hispanic friend and his beautiful wife, Melody. She was expecting, no surprise, and the man-child never seemed so happy on his life. He promised on his wedding that he would be the father he never got and wished for his baby to be happier than he ever was in his life.

Mabel made a silent promise to make that true when she watched from the sidelines, invisible to the eyes of the townsfolk attending the ceremony; and, for a second, she heard the demon’s voice in her ears, laughing. “It’s that a deal I hear?”, he said. Mabel didn’t flinch. He had been haunting her in her “dreams”, telling her that making deals was now in her nature, that she eventually would fill in his eternal job, that she would trick people into making horrible deals out of desperation. She was disgusted by it, remembering just how he had tricked her brother and her into Weirdmaggedon and resulting in the loss of everything she loved and was.

She was never going into making deals.

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

A few months after the 10th anniversary of the official death of the twins, another Pines left them for good. Stanley Pines never was one for a healthy life and cholesterol took him away peacefully one night. He didn’t suffer, even died with a smile, maybe a good dream he was having. The town mourned for a week the former Mr Mystery, as Soos took his job and has been managing the Shack for a few years now, visiting the shop and giving their condolences to the friends and family that remained. Mabel floated around listening to the soft whispers, again feeling completely left out without the ability to relate to their feelings. She had never felt so alienated in her life, so different and weird. She looked exactly the same as she did when her life changed forever, the same skirt, the same sweater, the same headband. Her now black eyes was the only thing out of place, that’s true, but no one looked at them now so it didn’t matter anymore.

“Mabel, come here”, she heard Ford’s voice and then she realised that the house was once more empty and it was snowing on the outside. Was it winter again? But it seemed yesterday that her grunkle died and it was in October! Nevertheless, she approached her grunkle and looked at him waiting for what he wanted to say.

The man sighed. She wasn’t his niece anymore and it was more than obvious now. She was in this realm barely every few weeks for a day or two and she didn’t seem to realise that her body was translucent most of the time she became visible for them to speak. She wasn’t the demon he feared she’d become, but she wasn’t Mabel; it was something else in between, a being made of energy from another world in a little girl’s shape with some memories of its vessel’s past life. It didn’t fight for dominion, as the child’s mind and body surrendered to it so many years ago before his own eyes, and fused successfully with her. He wondered if she recognized him at all, if she felt as sad as he was for everything that happened to her and Dipper, if she did care at all for the people she used to love and cherish. He asked himself not few times if there was any humanity left in her body or if she was lost and dead as the town believed her to be.

Nevertheless, he explained that didn’t have much left, that his old body was giving up on him, and that she was going to be on her own. Eventually, she was going to leave Gravity Falls and spend eternity alone… and forgotten. He launched himself in a speech so many times practised alone in the rusty lab downstairs, not looking really at the void eyes of Mabel in front of him, not caring anymore if she was listening or not. When he finished, he took the cane he hated so much and went to his room to sleep.

He died next spring the same way as his twin, with a gentle smile on his lips, dreaming of the future he was robbed with his family united and adventures with his brother in the Stan’o War II.

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

It was raining that night, but for Mabel it wasn’t even a breeze on her skin. She didn’t feel anything, no pain, no sorrow, not even the cold as it was winter again. A year has passed and when she went to see her grunkle she discovered that he died already. Soos told her so with an uncomfortable smile on his face and a nervous glance to his chubby little son, now six years old, and she got the message that a demon like her wasn’t welcome anymore to the house that once was her home. Mabel smiled in understanding and left to never be seen again, leaving him with a weird pain in his chest wondering if the guilt he was feeling should really be there. He had a family now, responsibilities, and as awesome as having his own ghost haunting the Shack was, he knew she was in the end of the day a demon, and his son’s well being came first.

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

Kevin, as she later learned was the little boy’s name, was now a young man and Mabel watched him every now and them, taking care of the man’s health and security as she promised so many years ago. Soos’s family was expanding as now two beautiful girls were running around the Shack, sleeping in what once was her room, little twins with identical big smiles and brown eyes full of curiosity. She swore to protect them, the same as their big brother, so they would never suffer the pain of losing their other half like she did in the past.

Soos was getting a few grey hairs on his head, same as Melody, and from time to time Wendy came to the Shack to see how everything was going around, talk about the Pines and have a moment to remember that fateful summer. They were the only ones who did.

Mabel appreciated that. If they didn’t talk about it she knew she’d had forgotten her name long ago as no one called her anymore. She spent almost always in the dreamscape, practising with her powers and focusing in the balance of the demon inside of her. Bill was always there calling her Shooting Star, mocking her, asking for her brother, taking her to the limit. Her only company was the hated demon that took away her life, and she had told him so, but stopped trying to kill him since he seemed to be made of smoke in her dreams.

Little by little, he had said, all that made her Mabel would disappear. “It’s only a matter of time, Shooting Star, that you accept me as your only companion.”

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

She knew what he meant when she watched her last friend die before her own eyes. Wendy was the one who lasted more than everyone else, reaching more than a hundred years. This time it was cancer what took her friend away and Mabel could do nothing to stop it, her body didn’t respond and could not say the words to make a “deal” to make her stay alive a few more years. At least the woman was loved and had great life, a beautiful family by her side, and lots of children to remind her the wonders of adventure.

Mabel, on the other hand, was now truly alone.

She came back to the dreamscape feeling a bit of despair, a now strange feeling on her empty body, and tears finally came to her eyes. She cried and cried for her lost friend, her brother, her family, her childhood. All of that, brutally taken from her by that disgusting demon laughing at her from his spot a few steps behind.

She turned around and screamed at his face everything she felt, how she hated him and everything he had done to her. She launched herself to him and for the first time, the triangle was solid enough for her to do some real damage to his mocking eye. God, how she hated it when he did that.

Mabel cursed him and screamed so loud until her throat hurt and the tears stopped falling. Her punches didn’t seem to do much damage and his “smile” was still in place when her little arms didn’t move again for another hit.

“Tired already, Shooting Star?”

“Shut up.” Even her own voice seemed strange to her. “I hate you so much.”

“Awwww”, he said with another laugh.

“You destroyed my life”. She closed her eyes feeling more tears coming. Feelings she couldn’t comprehend came back full force and Mabel was being crushed by years of unattended emotions.

“You did”, he answered in a more serious tone, “that day when you tried to kill Bill Cipher. Or have you forgotten already?”

“Shut the fuck up!”, the girl growled and a pulse of energy emerged from her body, launching the triangle a few metres back. “You did it! You killed my brother! You made me this… monster I am now!”. The girl jumped again to the fallen form of her enemy and pinned him under her body.

“Oh dear, don’t be like that”, he smiled with his eye and Mabel felt sick to her stomach. “We are so going to enjoy an eternity together~”.

“I refuse to be stuck with you, Bill Cipher!”, and as if she had said the funniest joke in the multiverse, the demon started to laugh his existence out. The girl-demon was slightly taken aback, but still weary if this was some kind of trick.

“You amuse me, Shooting Star”, the triangle managed to say, “Do you really not recognize yourself?”, and the weirdest thing happened.

Where there wasn’t a mouth, now was a smirk. The triangle was gone with a blink and in his place was the pale body of a girl with a severe need of sunlight, her eyes a black pool of nothingness and her body barely covered by an outfit she did recognize too well, but it was so battered and torn by years of use that the colors had disappeared completely, leaving them almost in greyscale.

She was looking at herself in a mirror. Her hands cut with the raw edges of the glass and blood started to run all over her reflection, making it even more horrible.

The other Mabel laughed at her face, her voice a mix of his voice and her own.

“Surprise!”, she said. “This whole time you were talking to yourself! Isn’t it funny? C’mon Shooting Star, you are the only one not having any fun.”

She jumped back and watched in horror as the reflection got up and jumped out of the mirror, before watching her with a curious smile. She couldn’t believe it. She was really crazy now. Bill was never there, only herself alone in the void of her existence, and it would be so until the end of times. If she ever considered the small possibility of company, even that of her nemesis’, she wasn’t having any of that now. She was truly and completely alone .

Alone…

Mabel smiled and laughed softly. Her walking reflection caught her thoughts and smiled too.

… for all eternity…

It was now a full scale laugh fest, neither of them knowing exactly what was so funny, but laughing until their voices merged as one. Mabel barely thought that how could she even consider that Bill was there, it was obvious now to her the impossibility of it. After all, it seemed her destiny was to be alone.

Alone and forgotten.

She laughed the last bit of happiness there was inside of her body and opened the eyes she didn’t know were closed. Unsurprisingly, her reflection wasn’t there.

The girl-demon looked down to her clothes and thought they needed a change. Something more… fitting. Black pants and a white buttoned shirt appeared instead of the old Mabel-y outfit, along with a black coat lined in gold star motives. Yeah, now we were talking.

She willed a cane in her right hand and smirked when it appeared out of thin air. It was a cool symbol of her predicament and how she came to be. Bill was going to be around her existence forever and the least she could do was pay little tribute to him. But still there was something missing…

With a flick of her wrist, a top hat was in her left hand and she put it in its rightful place. Now, it was just perfect.

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

The little girl didn’t know why she was doing this. The book she found was nearly illegible and kinda spooky, but it promised the power to protect herself and the ones she cared for. The only thing she needed was some candles and time to make the proper ritual.

The latin words sounded weird out loud, but it was written beside the instructions of the circle she drew with chalk, so they must be the right words. She was sure she said them right when the world shifted and became black and white, all colors fading and time slowing until the little fly on her window seemed frozen in place.

Blue fire emerged from the pentagram on the floor of her bedroom and a figure with a cane materialized on the center of the circle surrounded by the flames as if they didn’t burn at all despite the intense heat.

“Well well…”, the figure said taking off the top hat and twisting the cane on the right hand. “It’s nice to be back!”

The girl was taken aback when the demon was a girl no older than her. Maybe a bit taller, but the same round face, the same big eyes, the same short legs.

“Are you… Are you the demon? Cipher?”, the girl asked trying to keep her voice even. The other girl smiled at the name.

“You could say that~”, she answered putting the hat back over her black headband.

“I need your help”, the child managed to say after a few seconds of hesitation. If this was the demon on the book then she could help her. “I will pay you with everything I have, I’ll give you my soul… but don’t let him take my brother!”. That seemed to spark curiosity on the yellow-ish eyes of the strange demon before her.

“I’m listening.”

“My father.. he is trying to kill me to get to my little brother. His mother died and I am the only one left who could protect him.”

The demon looked at her with those deep eyes that told many stories, many things passing through them so fast she couldn’t figure out what the other was thinking behind the serious mask of indifference.

“I see”, was all she said. Hope bloomed on the girl’s heart and a need for this to be get over with soon rose. Her brother was in danger and the demon was looking at her room like it was some kind of museum!

“Are you going to help me?”, the need was obvious on her voice and the demon looked back to her with a wicked smile on her lips.

“It’d come with a price, you know.”

“Anything!”, the child shrieked. That amused the demon even more.

“All right then, we’ll work the details later. Tonight, you’ll sleep like a baby and tomorrow all will be gone. It’s a deal?”, the girl-demon extended her gloved hand surrounded in blue flames and the other girl didn’t even hesitate. The decision was made. Her brother was worth it.

“It’s a deal.”

And with another creepy maniacal laugh the demon was gone, color was back and time resumed its course as if she was never there.

Next morning, her house was filled with police sirens and medics. Her father had been stabbed overnight in a robbery gone wrong. An aunt she had never heard of came home in tears, willing to adopt them.

It was many many years later when she found out her price: She couldn’t find, no matter how hard she looked, one sole photograph of her with her brother.

[emptying-my-head-and-my-heart]

The Last Race Day

It started like any other summer Saturday morning at our house in Virginia. The temperature gauge already read 93 degrees and it was just barely 8:00 AM. However, the heavy stench of sweat and humidity in the air meant it was definitely much warmer than that. All around the house, the buzz of cicadas and mosquitos singing their own version of “Summer Lovin” drifts through on the sunrise air. Today was race day. As my sisters and I prepared for our last summer swim meet of the season, I was filled with many mixed emotions. At 16, this was going to be my last swim as a member of the Bradley Farm Waves. This was going to be my last swim before my life was going to change forever. With a quick glance at the clock, I knew that in exactly 49 hours 37 minutes, moving trucks would arrive and begin to pack up everything in my life into little, tiny boxes, load them onto a ginormous shipping container and ship my entire life half a planet away, to a new foreign country for the 3rd time in my short life.

“Emily! Let’s GO! The national anthem isn’t going to play itself!”

Bethany has always been strong headed and a little insufferable at times. She is a perfectionist on race day. Every minute of the entire day planned out to a tea. She could make a German train engineer blush with her meticulous preparation. She is the best 11-12 butterfly swimmer our team has ever seen. She is built for it. Strong legs like a dolphin tale to propel her through the water. Wide shoulders that looked like they could carry the world if she needed to. The combination of these three things makes her unstoppable. I think she could be an Olympian if she had the discipline. My daddy likes to call her “pure God given talent with no passion.” She hates swim season. Yes, she is an amazing swimmer, but her heart is not in it. Bethany is a people person. She loves being around people. Girls, boys, adults, babies. Bethany loves people and people love her and competing makes her uncomfortable, actually, I think it is the winning that does.

I need to get downstairs before she flips out. She may be my little sister, but what they say about the middle child is 100% true. As I open my bedroom door, the long hallway to the stairs seems further than normal. Like in horror movies where the hallway stretches away from you. I’m not ready. Physically? Of course, I am. I have trained and practiced and perfected my craft all summer, and every summer for as long as I can remember. Emotionally? I am terrified. Australia generates the greatest swimmers in the world. Here in small town Virginia, I am a big fish in a little pond, but over there I am the krill that whale eats up without thinking about it. I am nothing but another swimmer with a dream of being something bigger than myself. Is it wrong that I want to hold onto my success here a little while longer? I want to hold onto the picturesque all-American high school romance movie idea that I have built for myself just a few minutes longer. As soon as I walk downstairs to the car, the finale of this season of my life is about to begin.

“Emmy? Can you help me find my goggles? I can’t find my pink goggles. They’re my lucky goggles. I can’t swim without my lucky goggles!”

“Don’t worry Bry! I’m coming…”

Oh Bryony. The family’s baby. Nothing phases Bryony and I wish I were more like her. I miss being young like her with no cares, no worries, just pure childhood joy. To her, swimming was just something fun she gets to do between playing Barbies or running through the sprinklers. She is good too. Not Bethany great, but there was definitely natural talent hidden inside her that maybe one day she would tap into. But for now, swimming was fun. I remember when swimming was just fun for me too. There is a wistfulness about her carefree attitude that I envy. But she is my baby sister, and she looks up to me. She tells me almost every day, ‘I can’t wait to be just like you one day Emmy.’ I know she means it. I want to be a good example for my sisters so I can’t fall apart. I can’t fall apart today. Not yet and certainly not here laying on the floor looking under her bed for my hand-me-down goggles.

“Found them!”

“Girls! Time to get in the car! Crocker Wagon rolls out in t-minus 2 minutes!”

“Coming!”

The familiar all girl trio chorus floats down the stairs through the hot sticky summer air. I’m going to miss that most. The house may be big like every northern Virginia colonial house, but it’s my home. It’s where I snuck out for the first time to kiss boy. It’s where I cried on the couch in my mom’s arms a week later after that same boy broke my heart. It’s where I grew up and it’s the place I wanted to continue to grow up. It was supposed to be the place that my future husband would ask my parents for permission to marry me. The staircase that I walk down every day was supposed to be the place we would all pose for pictures for high school dances, and holidays and graduations. This is my home and I’m not ready to leave yet. This is the last race day for the Crocker girls. This is the last time I will play the national anthem on my flute for my team. This is the last time I will swim in the blue and black suit that makes me feel like a penguin, sleek and soft.

At the bottom of the stairs, all the swim bags are packed. A blue towel for me, green for Bethany and pink for Bryony. We are the Powerpuff Girls of the swimming pool. Each of us is responsible for our own gear on race day. Mom and Dad have too much on their plates so it’s our job to make sure we have everything we need because once we leave, we can’t run home because something was forgotten. Mom is head timer and Dad is the head official. They are all business today so there is no time for emotions. No time for my emotions. I don’t want to go out that door. The pool is my safe place and today I am running from it. Avoiding it like the plague because today is the last race day. The pool is where I go to work out my emotions, to think in the silence in the underwater abyss. I can hear my sisters hurdling down the stairs behind me towards the car. I grab my bag and follow them outside to the front steps and I try to take it all in. Bethany with her headphones in, shutting out the world getting into the zone like the serious athlete she is. Bryony running around using her swim bag as a cape like a little superhero, laughing as Dad tries to wrangle her into the car. It smells like summer and chlorinated swim meets and my childhood.

The car starts up with the familiar purr of its old Ford engine. “Emily! Get in the car! We’re going to miss warmups!” Ugh, Bethany and her German-esque punctuality.

“I’m coming!”

I don’t want to get in the car. I’m not ready for it to be over. I’m not ready to move away. No chance to turn away now. My bag is packed, my towel is folded, and my goggles are clean. Do I have my swim cap? Check, it’s here. Do I have my sheet music? Yup, it’s in my flute case. The reasons to stay are running out. What if I fake sick? No, then I’m going to miss everything. A gust of wind blows past my face, rustling my hair over my shoulders. Oh no! A hair elastic? Oh, it’s on my wrist, of course it is, that’s where it always is. The honk of the car horn makes me jump.

“Emily, hun? Are you ok? You’re really lagging today.”

“I’m fine Mom! Still trying to wake up. It is 8:15 in the morning on a Saturday you know? Teenagers like me are supposed to be asleep right now.” I can’t help but chuckle at my thought of being asleep right now. As I load by stuff into the back of the car I take a mental picture of my family, all loaded up and ready to go. Bethany, ignoring everything going on around her. Bryony watching the wind play with the leaves on the tree in the front yard. My dad in the driver’s seat, checking his Blackberry, probably making sure his soccer team is doing well. My mom, riding shotgun, digging through her purse for something, most likely her sunglasses, she always loses her sunglasses in that huge black hole of a “mom-bag”. I climb into the back seat beside Beth, and she shifts over to make sure I have room to buckle up. With the sound of the door closing, my dad puts his Blackberry in the cup holder and turns to the three of us.

“Ready?” he says to me.

“Yeah, let’s go.” There’s no turning back now. It’s time to go. It’s time to swim.

[fallen-gravity]

Scars, Show Me All The Scars You Hide

Ford and Mabel have a talk about blame, and how too much of it can cause the heart pain.

Alternatively,

Mabel tells Ford about her encounter with Bill prior to the start of Weirdmageddon.

AO3

Everything is peaceful. 

Ever since the town had been cleansed of any and all evidence that Weirdmageddon had happened at all, the small town of Gravity Falls seemed to sigh a breath of relief for the first time in decades. The birds were chirping away as the clouds from an earlier rainfall were beginning to clear. The whole atmosphere of the town still smelled of rainfall, and it seemed that half of the town’s population was out for a walk to enjoy it. Everyone in town seemed friendlier to each other, too. It was near-impossible to come across a sidewalk unoccupied by groups of people gathered in messy circles to talk. 

The Shack was booming with business, far more than the morning after Gideon’s arrest.  Also in great contrast was the fact that those who were stopping by the shack had little interest in tours, rather to come in to meet the family that saved the town from utter destruction. Stan had already gotten far more than his fair share of aggressive handshakes and teary-eyed hugs from citizens who’d lived in town their whole lives,  while Ford stood off to the side, watching them with a quiet fondness, finally understanding what his brother had meant when he told them the Shack had been a fundamental part of the town’s history. When they had first argued over the deed to the Shack, Ford had just thought he’d been exaggerating, but it was moments like those, as well as the times he would be mistaken for Stan in public, that really opened his eyes to how much the people of this town really loved the place, and, more importantly, how much these people loved his brother. 

Today might be the first lull the Shack’s seen in a solid month, and Stan had made the decision to close up shop to spend time with the family before Dipper and Mabel had to head off back home. They’d spent the entire early afternoon together, playing dumb games and watching dumb movies, and now, for the first time today, they were all off doing their own thing. It wouldn’t last, they knew, but they also couldn’t argue against the fact that sometimes comfortable silence was one of the warmest feelings on Earth. 

Stan’s taking a nap on the back porch, Dipper’s in the kitchen scribbling things down in a blank notebook Ford had gifted him when he was offered the apprenticeship, and Ford was down in his basement lab, cleaning up the last of the rubble of the portal he and Stan had taken baseball bats to the night prior. 

Mabel…. 

Mabel is pacing back and forth in the living room, stuck wondering why if everything is so peaceful and perfect, just like she’d dreamed things would be, that something still felt...off to her.  Not in the sense that she’d forgotten something, or that things shouldn’t be all peachy keen, it’s more along the lines of something that’s wrong with her specifically.

She knew it couldn’t be a lack of sleep, because she’d fallen asleep in Grunkle Stan’s lap during one of the movies earlier. It could be that she’s sad to be leaving in a week, she supposes, but no, they hadn’t been talking much about her and Dipper’s departure lately, and she’d already made both Stan and Ford pinky promise her that the two of them could spend the following summer in Gravity Falls, so that couldn’t be it either…

“Mabel?” Dipper asks, startling her out of her thoughts, and she freezes in her pacing. He’s carrying his notebook under one arm, and his favorite blue pen is poking out of his hair from behind his ear. Nerd. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know…” Mabel admitted, rubbing at her arm. “I know that everything’s all sunshine and rainbows now that Bill’s gone for good, but I don’t feel like sunshine and rainbows”

“Oh, Mabel…” Dipper frowned, placing his book on the armrest of Stan’s chair. “Is it because we’re leaving so soon? I know Stan already promised us we could stay here whenever we needed, but I thought you missed Mom and Dad”

“I do miss them!” Mabel shot her arms in the air. “I miss everyone at home. But I don’t think that’s what’s bugging me so much”.

Dipper frowns, and takes a seat in Stan’s chair, indicating he wasn’t going to leave the room until he could figure out what was bugging her himself. “Well...what do you think it is?”

“I don’t know!” Mabel whined, bringing her hand to her forehead as if she had a bad headache. “I’m thrilled that everything’s okay, I’m thrilled that Stan and Ford are best friends again, and I’m thrilled that we get to come back next summer, but I...can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. I haven’t been able to since the morning Stan woke up with his memories intact” 

“Mabel, that was two days ago!”

“I know, I know…” Mabel begins pacing again. “But I just thought that it was just cause I was so stressed he was gonna relapse again, or that something else terrible was gonna happen, or-”

The small crunch of a piece of paper interrupts her before she can finish her train of thought, and when she looks down to see what she’d stepped on she realizes it’s an early draft of the invitation cards for her and Dipper’s birthday party.

Her face goes pale at the sight. 

“Mabel, are you okay?” Dipper stands to reach out for her shoulder. “You’re not looking too hot…”

“I know what it is” she says, before he can touch her, and he retracts his hand. 

“You do? Can you tell me?” 

Mabel takes a few looks around the room to make sure that they’re alone.

“Follow me,” she says, but then she grabs Dipper by the hand and runs up the stairs to their attic bedroom.

“Mabel, what’s happening?” Dipper asks her as she locks the room behind her. “You’re acting a lot like...me” 

“It’s all my fault”

“What? What’s all your fault?”

The concern in her brother’s tone makes her choke up for reasons she can’t describe. “Weirdmageddon”, she shutters. “It’s all my fault”.

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, which makes Mabel flinch. “Mabel, don’t say that! Of course it’s not your fault!”

“Yes it is,” she mopes, and plops herself down onto her bed. “Bill came after me when I ran into the woods, and I gave him that weird snow-globe looking thing.” She buries her face in her pillow, but she doesn’t wait for her brother to respond before she keeps going.  “It wasn’t out of anger, or anything, I swear. He possessed that Blendin guy and promised me an eternal summer in exchange, and I handed it over because I’m a big dummy dumb, and everyone got hurt because I thought I wanted time to freeze forever so we wouldn’t have to be apart” 

For a brief moment there’s silence, but then Dipper’s hand on her shoulder. When she pulls her face out of her pillow to look at him, it’s all wet and gooey. “Mabel, are you kidding? I thought the rift shattered in your backpack. I thought for sure it was because you tripped, and everything exploded out of your backpack. I thought you were a goner”. 

Mabel sniffles, but she doesn’t respond. 

“Mabel, your story is so much better than the ones I was making up in my head. I mean, I wish Bill had never tracked you down at all, but I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.” He pulls her into a hug. “Great Uncle Ford and I were just talking about this the other morning, Mabel. He was worried sick that he’d hurt you taking it by force” 

“You’re…” she stutters, returning the hug. “You’re not mad?” 

“Of course not” he shakes his head. “I meant what I said in Mabeland. Whatever happens, we get through it together”. 

She giggles and pulls away from the hug, wiping at her face with her sleeves. “But...what about Grunkle Ford?”

Dipper shakes his head. “You should tell him too. He’s gonna be understanding, Mabel, he already knows how much Bill had it out for us personally”

That’s...true, she supposes, shuttering at the memory of her and Dipper offering themselves up as bait so Bill wouldn’t kill their Grunkles. She stands to exit the room, gives her brother one more hug for good luck, and and repeats Dipper’s words to herself the entire way down the staircase and into the gift shop. The stairs to the basement are propped open, which she assumes is because Ford no longer feels he needs to keep its location a secret.  She makes her way down slowly, partly out of nerves and partly to avoid spooking Ford.

He’ll understand, she says to herself one last time as she exits the elevator. Ford’s sitting at the work desk, and the view of the portal in the next room is blocked off with a curtain. He’s hunched over, just a little bit, and Mabel figures it’s probably because he’s writing something in one of the journals. It’s only as she approaches him that she realizes he’s not wearing his trench coat, because she can tell that he rolled the sleeves of his sweaters up to make for easier writing. 

“Grunkle Ford?” she asks, knocking lightly on the machine closest to her right in case calling his name isn’t enough to snap him out of his focus. 

“Mabel!” his response is cheery, and he places a bookmark on the page he’d been working on and closes the cover. “What brings you down here?” 

“Well, I...guess I wanted to talk to you about something”.

“Sure, anything” he grins, patting at his pant leg in invitation to come sit on his lap. Mabel sighs, tries to think for a moment about how she can place things lightly, and takes Ford up on his offer. She crawls up onto his lap, opens her mouth to speak, and freezes when she notices that his wrist is covered in cuts and blistering scars. A quick glance at the other wrist and she’s met with the same sight. 

“Grunkle Ford?” is all she can manage, and her eyes follow hers to the scars on her wrist. 

“Oh!” he replies, much cheerier than she’d expected him to, and rolls his sleeves back down. “I’m going to be fine, sweetie, those will heal in due time”.

“What happened to you?” she looks up at him with her signature puppy eyes. “How recent are these?” 

From her spot on his lap, Mabel can feel Ford’s chest rise and fall as he sighs quietly. “You have to promise me you won’t tell Stan,” he says, rubbing delicately at his wrist. Mabel nods silently, and his eyes fall to the ground to avoid eye contact with his niece.

“Bill did this to me. When he was demanding that I give him the codes to undo the bubble around the town, he chained me by my arms and legs and fried me until I talked. I’m so sorry that you had to come across them by accident, but, uh, I’m grateful that you saw them today, rather than earlier. I nearly threw up when I saw them for the first time after I was freed”

Mabel’s breath hitches, and she’s tearing up. It’s getting harder and harder to convince herself that It’s not your fault could be a true statement when everyone she cares about is getting hurt by it. Bill fried him. Bill chained him up and fried him, and if the scars on his wrists are just from the chains, she can’t even begin to imagine what the scars must look like under the rest of his sweater. He must be completely disfigured from the neck down, if she knows anything about Bill. He’d tried to kill her two other times prior to Weirdmageddon, but those were over much less risky things than control over the whole universe.

She throws herself against Ford’s sweater in a fit of choked sobs, and his arms are around her before she can even finish processing that she’s crying again.

“There, there, Mabel” Ford’s voice is cool and collected, but tinged with sadness to see her break down like this for the second time in three days. He rubs gentle circles into her back, quietly shushing her sobs, and the tender gesture of it all just makes Mabel cry even harder. “It’s okay, Mabel. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe, thanks to you”. He gently pats her hair, and Mabel sniffles as she pulls away. Ford keeps his hand where it is, at the top of her head, and she hates how much of a grounding feeling it is. 

“It’s not okay!” She yells, and more tears pour down her face. “You’re hurting! Bill could’ve killed you!” she gasps for air. “If we had shown up just five minutes later than we did, you could’ve been a goner!” She takes his other wrist, which was still wrapped around her to prevent her from falling off of his lap, and rolls it up to reveal the identical scar he’d just covered up moments ago. “These look worse than the time I pulled a tray of cupcakes out of the oven with my bare hands cause I was too excited to wait for them! I thought I was never gonna feel anything ever again!” She cries. 

“Mabel, sweetie…” 

“No!” she cries. “I don’t deserve to be called that. It’s all my fault he hurt you.” Her sobs quiet as her body seems to double-whammy her and send her into a panic attack, trembling uncontrollably against Ford’s chest. “It’s my fault” 

There’s a gentle six-fingered hand on her cheek, and she looks up to warm brown eyes staring into hers with heartbroken worry. “It’s not your fault, my dear, Bill and I have a really complicated history together. Nothing you could’ve done would’ve changed that”

“That’s exactly my point! Bill may not have acted any differently, but I still could’ve!” 

“What do you mean?”

Mabel wipes away her tears with her wrist again.

“It’s my fault everything happened in the first place. I’m the reason Bill got his hands on the...uh...rift, I think Dipper called it” she sniffles. “Bill caught up to me when I was all upset in the woods about arguing with Dipper, and told me he could fix things if I gave it to him, and I-” 

She’s cut off by Ford’s hug around her tightening, like she just unlocked a set of keywords that’d make him never want to let go of her again.

“Mabel, I want you to listen to me very carefully”

She doesn’t say anything, but squeezes him in silent confirmation to let him know she’s still listening.

“Nothing that happened was your fault, okay? I need you to understand how genuine that statement is. It wouldn’t matter if Bill convinced you to smash the rift into the ground yourself. It wouldn’t matter if you handed it over without question, or if you shook his hand.”

“But-”

“Let me finish” he cuts her off, but the soft nature in his tone lets her know he isn’t upset. “Mabel, it doesn’t matter who said or did what because this is exactly how Bill liked to play his games. He knew you wouldn’t be thinking straight, he knew you wouldn’t question anything he asked you to do.” he reaches under his glasses to wipe at his own eyes. “He did the same thing to me when I was younger, Mabel. I called him my best friend. He convinced me to hang onto every word he ever said without giving them a second thought”

He pulls her away from the hug so he can look her in the eyes again. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever encountered in any dimension, Mabel. Don’t blame yourself for the mistakes I made when I was younger. If there’s anyone that should be blamed for the whole ordeal besides Bill, it should be me.”

“Grunkle Ford, don’t say that!” 

He laughs quietly, bitterly. “I should have told you about the rift earlier, Mabel. I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you”

“It’s okay,” she replies. “I know that you were just trying to keep me safe. Stan had to keep a lot of things from me, too”.

“No kidding…” Ford’s voice drifts off, which makes Mabel painfully aware of the fact she was currently holding a conversation with one of said things. He shakes his head. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that pitting all of the blame on yourself isn’t going to do you any good.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “...Stan and I had to learn that one the hard way. If you focus too much on the idea that all you’ve done is hurt people, you miss out on all of the times you’ve done good for other people.”

He smiles warmly. 

“Dipper told me you were the one who stopped the portal from shutting down. I’m not sure I’d even still be alive if it weren’t for you. You’ve done so much good for the people you care about that anything else is nonexistent in comparison. You’re a wonderful person, Mabel, inside and out. If there ever were a person out there who truly was pure of heart, I can say in all honesty that I think it’d be you”.

Mabel’s on the verge of crying again. She throws herself at him in another hug, and he’s quick to hug her back.

“You’re a wonderful person too, Grunkle Ford. I don’t want you to forget that either”.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she could hear him sniffle at the remark.

[orangeoctopi7]

Better to Say Too Much

“Say What You Mean to Say” 

Chapter 1

The attic bedroom was filled with awkward silence after Stan forced them to go to bed early. They each lay in their beds, trying to look occupied with reading or knitting, but still glancing over at the other every few seconds. Finally, they both couldn't take the quiet any more.

"Dipper, I'm--"

"Mabel, are you--"

They both laughed awkwardly.

"You first." Dipper offered.

"I… I'm really worried about Bill coming back." Mabel admitted, "you got really hurt the last time, and you could've been hurt way worse if we hadn't been able to stop him at the puppet show. I don't want something like that to happen again. It's more important than ever that we look out for each other."

"It'll be ok, Mabel." Dipper assured her. "Bill can't get to us as long as we're inside the barrier."

A small smile spread across her lips, but she didn't look completely comforted. "What were you gonna say?"

Dipper fidgeted with his sheets. "I was gonna ask… are you still mad at me?"

Mabel glanced back down at her knitting. She was, a little bit. But she couldn’t say that after she’d just told her brother how important it was that they look out for each other. “Well… I haven’t changed my mind about how I feel about you taking Ford’s apprenticeship. But, I know you need more time to think about it, so… I’m just not gonna talk about it for now.”

“So that’s a yes?” Dipper read between the lines.

The colorful girl frowned. “Blargh! I don’t wanna be mad at you, especially not right now, but I just-- I don’t want things to change! I like the way my life is now!”

“Things can’t stay frozen like this forever Mabel, that’s just how life works. Things change.”

Mabel buried herself into her blankets. “I guess.” She mumbled sullenly. “Let’s just not talk about it right now, OK? I know you want time to think about it.”

“Ok, but we do need to talk about this at some point.”

“I already told you what I think about it.”

“Yeah, but we need to talk about it when we’re both calm and not super emotional. I’m not gonna make a decision without your input.”

Mabel poked her head back out of her blankets. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dipper affirmed,  “You were right, this affects you too.”

That certainly made Mabel feel a little better. But it also made her a little anxious. She was going to have to come up with a calm, rational, Dipper-friendly explanation for why she thought the apprenticeship with Ford was a bad idea beyond just ‘You are my brother and I don’t want you to leave me’.

* * *

Sunlight was just barely beginning to filter through the darkness when Stan was awoken by the sound of power tools the next morning. He groggily rose out of bed, wondering if Soos had come in early and started on some repairs around the shack. It wouldn’t be the first time. As the racket continued, Stan once again found himself wondering how the heck the kids could sleep through all this noise. Upon reaching the gift shop, Stan found not Soos, but Ford, in the middle of messing with the security cameras. 

“...Did you even sleep last night?” Stan asked, still half-asleep.

“No, I spent most of the night attempting to crack open the containment unit.” Ford replied without turning around. Apparently he’d seen his brother coming on the security feed. “I only managed to expand the crack another millimeter or so, but it’s clear that Mabel was right. It’s curing more slowly within the dome.”

“Uh... “ Whatever his brother had just said went right over Stan’s still sleep-addled head. “What’re you doin’ up here?”

“You said I could use your security cameras to monitor the secret entrance to the lab." Ford reminded him. "You also said if I stayed in here, it would attract too much attention. So I'm rerouting the feed to the den."

"I said you could watch the video feed from my office.”

"It takes exactly forty-three seconds for me to run downstairs from your office to the secret entrance. In that time someone could input the code and be halfway down the elevator. I'm going to be set up right on the other side of that door." Ford pointed to the Employees Only sign that led into the den.

"Why don't you just change it over to a wireless feed, while you're at it." Stan rolled his eyes. 

"That’s what I’m doing." Ford answered, not realizing his brother's question had been both rhetorical and sarcastic. 

“Fine. Just don’t forget, you’re supposed to call Dipper ‘n Mabel’s parents today.” Stan reminded him.

Ford checked his watch. “I doubt they’re up at this hour.”

“Then why the heck are you up doin’ this!?”

“I need to finish before you open this place up to tours.”

Stan gave a roaring yawn. “Oh yeah, that reminds me.” He taped an Out of Order sign up on the vending machine. “So you don’t come charging in guns ablazing every time some schmuck wants a cheese log.”

“Good thinking.” Ford said simply.

“Welp, I’m already up. Might as well start makin’ breakfast.” Stan scratched his rear and turned to leave. He almost asked Ford if he wanted anything, but thought better of it. His brother at least came upstairs to have dinner with the family most days, but Stan never saw him eat any other meals. Dipper had mentioned something about nutrition pills at some point. Stan thought that was an affront against nature and taste buds, but hey, if it meant one less mouth to feed, he wasn’t going to complain.

* * *

Ford did finish his upgrade of the security cameras before the Mystery Shack opened, although it hardly mattered. The only people there that morning were Wendy and Soos.

“Aw man, the vending machine’s out of order again?” Wendy complained when she saw the sign taped up on its front.

“Eh, not exactly.” Stan shrugged. “My brother’s got some super-dangerous ball of glitter-glue down there, and this jerk called Bill wants to steal it. I figured it was safer just to not let anybody use the vending machine. I did the same thing right after those agents started snooping around.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot there really is a secret passage back there!” Wendy recalled  “That’s so weird, I had a dream about that last night.” 

The Employees Only door slammed open and Ford loomed into the gift shop.

"Oh, hey Stan Two." Wendy greeted him, as if it were perfectly normal for your boss' long-lost twin to suddenly barge in on a conversation.

"Tell me everything you can remember about this dream." The old researcher demanded.

"Well, that's what was really weird about it. I don't normally remember my dreams, but this one was really vivid." Wendy explained.

"Yes, and what happened?"

"Uh, I opened up the secret passage behind the vending machine… then there were like stairs leading to an elevator? That was really weird. Then when I got out of the elevator there were like, I dunno, balloons or bubbles or something everywhere? Dipper was down there, but he was weird too. Kinda like when he went nuts during Mabel's puppet show last month? Anyway, he handed me my axe and wanted me to start popping the bubbles, or whatever they were. Like I said, man, it was weird."

"How did it end?" Ford asked frantically.

"Uh, I think I woke up after he gave me the axe."

"Did you make any deals? Did you shake his hand!?"

"Nnnnnooo?" Wendy replied, starting to feel a little weirded out.

Ford grabbed her by the shoulders. "This is gravely serious. Your dreams were invaded last night by Bill Cipher."

"Wait, you mean like that jerk Mabel needed the unicorn hair to get rid of?"

"Yes, and he's trying to convince you to cut open the rift I already sealed! What exactly did he say to you?"

"Who, you mean the Dipper in my dream?"

"Yes, I'm almost certain that was Bill in disguise. Did he have yellow eyes?"

Wendy looked genuinely spooked now. "How… how did you know that?"

"What did he say to you?" Ford repeated forcefully.

"Relax, Captain Paranoid." Stan stepped between his brother and his employee. 

"I am not paranoid!!" Ford shouted. "There is no possible way she could just coincidentally dream all those details, it has to be Bill!"

"I know, alright, but you're freaking her out!"

To the untrained eye, Wendy just looked mildly perturbed, but Stan had known her long enough to know mildly perturbed for Wendy was on the verge of a panic attack for an average person.

Ford tried to reel in his frantic, fearful energy, but he still needed to know what happened. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you, it's just--"

"I'm not frightened." Wendy insisted. "It's just a lot to take in, ya know?" She paused and thought back to her dream. "He just handed me my axe, and said 'Have at it, Red!' and that's not how Dipper talks to me, so I woke up."

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Ford’s head as the old researcher tried to guess what Bill was up to. The old conman was pretty worried about the whole thing himself; he honestly hadn’t thought Bill would bother anyone outside their immediate family, but he wasn’t about to let any of that show. Wendy was freaked out enough as it was. 

“Thank you… Wendy, was it?” Ford finally said. “For now, you needn’t worry. Just be cautious if you have any more strange dreams: don’t shake anyone’s hand, don’t make any deals, and don’t burst any bubbles, balloons, or other dome-like things.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wendy nodded, which Stan knew was probably the strongest affirmative she’d ever give any adult. 

“Do you dudes wanna hear about the weird dream I had last night?” Soos asked.

“Yes.” Ford said gravely.

“Oh boy.” Stan just rolled his eyes.

“Ok, so I was at Beryl City Nerdic Con with Melody, only she wasn’t actually there in person, she was just there on my laptop that I had to carry around with me, and I was trying to go to a panel where Mr. Pines was the guest speaker, except the room kept on getting changed, so I was running all over the convention center, but I had to be careful not to drop my laptop, or Melody couldn’t see what was happening. And then they moved the panel to a tent outside…”

Stan pulled Wendy aside while Soos continued the ramble on. “Hey, kid, we’re pretty slow today, so if you’re not feelin’ great after last night--”

“I’m fine, Mr. Pines.” The girl insisted. But the fact that she’d passed up an opportunity to get out of work for the day was practically a blinking sign advertising the fact that she was definitely not fine. 

“If you say so.” Stan folded his arms. “But like I said, we’re slow. Do me a favor an’ go check on the kids. I haven’t seen either of ‘em all morning.”

“Yeah, alright.” She walked through the Employees Only door and into the main part of the house. Stan was sure Dipper and Mabel would do a better job of explaining what was going on and comforting the teen than his brother had. Of course, Ford had set the bar pretty low.

“... So I spent like, the next twenty minutes of the dream working on this dude’s engine. And when I’m finally done, instead of asking him to give me a ride to the panel, I just keep walking! I didn’t even realize I could’ve asked him that until we were like a block down the street and Melody brought it up! So then it started raining--”

“Soos,” Ford finally interrupted the handyman’s long winded retelling. “Were there yellow eyes at any point in this dream?” 

“Uh, not that I remember.”

“Did you ever shake anyone’s hand?”

“Nah, I had to keep holding on to Melody’s laptop.”

“Did you make a deal with anyone?”

“Well, I did start working at that restaurant, and fix that one dude’s truck. But those weren’t really deals, I don’t think. I just saw jobs that needed to be done.”

“Then I think I can say with certainty that Bill Cipher did not enter your dreams last night.”

“Heheh, what a relief! So anyway, once we got to the tent where the panel was being held…”

* * *

Mabel had been texting back and forth with Pacifica since she’d gotten up that morning. 

Pacifica, I have a weird question for you

I thought I told you to delete this number

And for the last time, it wasn’t actually a hug

No, not about you and diper

*Dipper

Have your parents been acting weird lately?

What do you mean they’re never weird

They’re the opposite of weird

They’re just really rich and controlling

I mean have they been acting different from usual?

No they’re just mad at me

 why?

Its a long story. Come over later and ill tell you about it!!!

Can’t

I’m super grounded after the photoshoot thing

Do we need to come rescue you???!?!

No please don’t I’ll just get in more trouble

:( :( :(

Well let me know if you have any weird dreams or anything

Why what’s going on?

I don’t think its safe to talk bout it over phone

Are you ok?

:D :D :D :D 

Yeah im fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I helped Grunkle Ford set up a protection spell

You remember he was the one you said looked like hot Stan

OMG SHUT UP!!

The colorful girl hadn’t heard back from her crazy rich rival since that last comment, but at least it seemed nothing was up with the Northwests. Mabel sighed as she hugged Waddles and scrolled back up through their conversation. She may have stretched the truth a bit with Pacifica. “Fine” probably wasn’t the right word for how she felt. But she didn’t want her friend to worry about her. 

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a knock on the door. 

“What up, dudes?” Wendy called from the other side.

Mabel finally got up out of bed and opened the door to her teenaged friend. “Wendy! What are you doing up here?”

“Stan asked me to come check on you guys.” She shrugged. “Hey, where’s Dipper?”

“I think he’s on the roof. He… he needed some time to himself for thinking.”

“Well, he’d better be done, ‘cuz I need to talk to him.” Wendy said sternly.

Mabel led the ginger teen over to the nearest window with access to the roof. It wasn’t necessary, Wendy knew her way around the Shack, but the colorful girl needed an excuse to get up and out of her room. Once Wendy was outside, Waddles started thumping down the stairs, probably in search of a late breakfast. Mabel followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Stan had made bacon and cheesy eggs, although they’d gone cold by the time Mabel reached them. Oh well, it was nothing a few seconds in the microwave couldn’t fix. The girl scooped the eggs into a bowl and nuked them for a few seconds. Waddles sniffed at the food on the table above him.

“No Waddles!” Mabel admonished him, pushing away the plate of bacon. “That’s cannibalism!”

Once it was warmed, she scooped half her eggs directly into the pig’s mouth, then proceeded to eat the rest herself. After finishing breakfast, she made a beeline for the livingroom and the TV, intent on watching Saturday morning cartoons. The den and the livingroom kind of bled into each other, and when Mabel sat down on the recliner in front of the TV, she couldn’t help but notice Ford sitting at the card table around the corner, intently watching his own screen. 

The girl wondered if this was the right time to finally confront Ford about the apprenticeship thing. They were alone in the house at the moment, but he looked busy. Then she remembered. Ford had said he wanted to watch the security cameras to make sure no tourists tried to get into the lab today! Mabel knew better than to try and interrupt that, so she just flipped on the TV instead. 

The sound of the TV turning on, however, alerted Ford to her presence. The old researcher looked up at her, then back down at his screen, then glanced at the door, back at the screen, and finally back up at Mabel again.

"Mabel, may I speak with you for a moment?" He asked.

Mabel's brain tripped all over itself. This was her chance, but what was she supposed to say? How could she explain to her Grunkle how what he was offering Dipper was hurting her? Would he get mad at her? Was she going to lose control of her emotions and get mad at him?

Her apprehension must have been apparent, because Ford crossed the room and knelt down beside her, getting on her eye level. "I want you to know, it was never my intention to hurt you by offering Dipper the apprenticeship. I guessed it might upset you, but I didn't realize just how strongly you'd react, or how terrible my timing was. I'm afraid I can't give you the same kind of personalized education I can give your brother, the kind of education you deserve, but you're welcome to stay here too, if you wish."

The girl was stunned, unsure of how to react. Her thoughts, which had already been scrambling to figure out how to confront Ford, were knocked completely off-course. Wasn’t this what she wanted? More time in Gravity Falls? More time to spend with her new family and friends? More time to have adventures with her brother? Or had her new Grunkle’s offer just made her situation worse? If Mabel stayed in Gravity Falls, she wouldn’t get to go to school with her old friends, wouldn’t get to go home to her mom and dad, or her cat, back in Piedmont. 

“...Mabel?” Ford asked when she hesitated.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but you’re not!” She finally cried. “You’re making me choose between my brother and my parents!”

“Mabel, no--”

“Yes, you are!” She maintained, with tears in her eyes. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time, and you’re mad at your brother, b-but you’ve got to understand how hard a decision you’re asking us to make!”

The old researcher was obviously distressed that he’d made his niece cry, but he went on talking anyway.

“Mabel, I do realize how difficult a decision this is... and you don’t have to make that decision right away. I just-- just realized it wasn’t fair to not at least give you that option. And I know you’re capable. You’ve already made several difficult decisions this summer, from what I’ve heard.”

“So what’s one more, right?” She cried indignantly, wiping furiously away at her tears and storming off. 

Unfortunately, the sounds of their argument had attracted Stan. He poked his head in from the gift shop just in time to see Mabel’s aggrieved exit. The old conman entered the room, and if looks could kill, Ford would have been dead on the spot. 

“What. Did you. Do?” 

* * *

The roof held its fair share of bad memories for Dipper. It was where Wax Sherlock Holmes had tried to kill him, where Tyrone had melted, where Bill had first tried to make a deal with him. But there were some good memories too. It was where he’d first started hanging out with Wendy, where he’d lit off fireworks with Grunkle Stan and Mabel, where he still liked to go when he needed someplace to think. It was some peace and quiet away from his raucous family members. Dipper definitely got why Ford spent so much time in the basement. 

Today it was especially nice. The weather was cooling as fall approached, and a pleasant breeze whispered through the treetops. The sun-warmed shingles were just the right temperature, making a comfortable seat. 

Dipper needed the tranquil environment. He had a lot on his mind, and a big decision to make. Today was the first time since Ford had offered him the apprenticeship that he had an opportunity to stop and really consider his options. So far, the boy had compiled a detailed pros and cons chart, and was currently in the process of reviewing that list and giving each item a weighted score. Pros like “Don’t have to ride bus back to Piedmont” only got one point, while pros like “Get to explore UFO” got ten. The cons were rated on a similar scale, with the worst one, “Don’t go home with Mabel”, getting a score of eleven, because it was a very bad con. 

“Hmmm, get to hang out with Wendy after school… Would that be a six or a seven? Mabey an eight?” He mumbled to himself.

“I’d go with eight. I might be biased though.” Wendy’s voice replied behind him.

The boy’s face flushed the same shade of red as the teen’s hair. “W-wendy! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there! It’s not--I’m not--I just wanna hang out as friends, I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it, man!” She punched him playfully in the arm. “I’m the one who snuck up on you.”

“Heh.” Dipper forced out an awkward chuckle. “Did you come up here to escape work?”

“Eh, sorta.” Wendy waggled her hand in a so-so motion. “Stan asked me to check on you dudes.”

“Oh. Yeah, everyone’s kinda freaked out right now ‘cuz Bill showed up yesterday. He tried to make a deal with Mabel and Stan, and then when he couldn’t, he got angry and started making threats. Ford’s got something he wants, but it’s safe, thanks to that unicorn hair you and Mabel got the other day. We just have to make sure it stays that way.”

“Yyyeah, that’s kinda the other reason I’m up here.” Wendy admitted.

Dipper turned his full attention to her. He hadn’t seen Wendy this nervous since they almost got their memories wiped. 

“So… I had a weird dream last night. I didn’t really think anything of it until I talked to Ford about it when I got into work just now… but… he seemed to think it was that Bill guy, and honestly… I think he’s right.”

Dipper’s eyes widened with fear. “Ohmigosh, a-are you ok? What happened? Did he try to make a deal with you? Did he threaten you or your family?”

“Nah, dude, he just… It was weird, I guess in the dream he was pretending to be you? I went down into the Shack’s basement and it was filled with these bubbles of glitter, or something, and you were down there, but your eyes were yellow and you were calling me weird names. You gave me my axe and said ‘Have at it’. Or, Bill did, I guess.”

The breeze that had once felt pleasant was now sending shivers up Dipper’s spine. “The rift! He was trying to get you to cut open the rift!”

"Yeah, that's what your Uncle said. Uh, and that is…?” Wendy asked.

The boy hesitated. Ford had asked Dipper not to tell anyone about the rift, not even Stan or Mabel… but that had almost led to Bill tricking them yesterday. He probably would have, if not for Stan’s instincts. It would probably be best if he told Wendy, right? He’d already kinda spilled the beans, after all.

“The portal that Stan used to bring Ford home created a rip in the universe.” Dipper explained. “Bill wants it so he can invade our world. Me and Ford sealed it up with an alien adhesive, but it’s taking longer to dry than we thought, so it’s still vulnerable. And Bill will try to convince anyone to break it open.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t all that convincing, if you ask me.” Wendy said flippantly.

Dipper thought back to that night over a month ago on this very roof. “He wasn’t that convincing the first time he tried to trick me either. But then he showed up when I was desperate, and…” He suddenly understood why Ford had been so reluctant to share his past with Bill. Dipper couldn’t reveal such an embarrassing secret, especially not to Wendy. Still, it was probably the most effective way to explain what Bill was capable of to her.

“You remember what happened at Mabel’s puppet show, last month?”

“Yeah dude, you were so sleep deprived you started acting like the villain from a bad slasher flick.”

“That… wasn’t sleep deprivation. Bill possessed me.”

“Wait, what?” Wendy asked in disbelief.

“I-I screwed up. He said he’d give me the answers I was looking for, and all he wanted in return was a puppet. But I was the puppet!”

Wendy stared at him in horror. Dipper’s stomach flip-flopped. Was she going to tell him off for being stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick? Was she afraid that Bill would come back and possess him again? Did she even believe him, or did she think he’d finally lost his mind?

“That wasn’t you…” she finally spoke in a low voice  “...and I didn’t even realize… no, I knew something was off, but… Oh my gosh, Dipper, I’m so sorry, I should’ve done something!” 

“What? No, Wendy, it’s not your fault!” he assured her. “I just wanted to warn you! Bill might come back, you need to know how he works, what he might try to do.”

The ginger teen stared out over the forest with a far-away look, her knuckles bone-white as she tightly gripped the edge of the roof. Dipper realized her gaze was pointed towards her house.

“Hey, uh, if I were to get my hands on some more unicorn hair, would your uncle be able to, I dunno, protect my house the way he did to the Shack?”

“Uh, I think so…” Dipper replied. “I’d have to ask him first.”

“Great. You talk to Ford. I gotta go talk to Stan. I think I’m gonna take the day off after all.”

* * *

Stan had just finished up a tour with a young couple who seemed more interested in each other than the exhibits. Eh, he’d take what he could get. Maybe he could set up a secluded corner of the gift shop and charge them to use the “Mystery Make-out Cave”. 

He’d been about to move the T-shirt rack to start just that, when he heard a raised voice coming from the den. Stan turned up his hearing aide and leaned his ear against the door. It was Mabel, and she sounded upset. Next, he heard the long-winded ramblings of Ford. Whatever his big-mouthed brother had said obviously didn’t make Mabel feel any better. Stan poked his head into the room to see what all the commotion was about, just in time to see her fleeing the room. He’d only caught a glimpse of her face before she rounded the corner, but it was enough to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What. Did you. Do?” Stan asked, his voice dangerously low.

Ford at least had the decency to feel guilty about making his niece cry. “I-I just told her she was welcome to stay here with Dipper during his apprenticeship, but for some reason beyond my understanding--”

“You did what!?” Stan growled.

“You’re the one who told me I was excluding Mabel by not extending her an offer as well!”

“You were supposed to call their parents first, genius!”

“You never said anything about which one I was supposed to do first!”

Part of Stan wanted to shake his brother, ask him how a guy with 12 PhD’s could be so stupid. But the other part of Stan knew Ford had always been like this. You had to give him ridiculously specific instructions when it came to social interactions, or he’d completely mess them up. Sometimes he’d mess them up even with instructions. It was Stan’s own fault for not saying “First you have to call the kids’ parents and get their permission. Then, there won’t be a then because there’s no way on Earth they’ll ever agree to it!”

Instead, Stan just pinched the bridge of his nose, massaged his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the oncoming stress-headache, and heaved a sigh of frustration.  

“You know what your problem is? You’re treatin’ these kids like adults.”

“You see that as a problem?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps your problem is that you treat them too much like children.”

“I don’t mean talkin’ down to them, or babying them!” Stan clarified. “I mean tryin’ to give them a normal-ish childhood! I mean not expectin’ them to grow up too fast! I mean not dumping huge problems or decisions on them! I mean lettin’ them enjoy bein’ young while they still can!”

“Normal is overrated.” Ford replied coolly. “And I still fail to see why they can’t enjoy being young here in Gravity Falls.”

Stan gave up. Why did he ever think his brother would listen to him? There was obviously only one way he was gonna make Ford see reason.

“Alright, time for you to call the kids parents.”

“I’ll call them after you shut down the gift shop for the day.” Ford said, looking back down at the security feed on his future-tech screen. 

“Quit putting it off, Sixer! I’ll watch the gift shop. You go call. Now.” Stan insisted forcefully.

Thankfully, Ford relented. Just as he was about to enter the kitchen to access the phone there, Stan stopped him.

“Their numbers are on the fridge. Micha and Deborah. You probably have the best chance of reachin’ Debbs this time of day. Don’t call her Debbie, or she’ll chew you out for fifteen minutes.”

“Noted.” Ford nodded.

Stan returned to the gift shop. Someone had to keep an eye on the vending machine, after all. Of course, he was also going to keep an ear on Ford’s call, to make sure the nerd didn’t worm his way out of actually asking for permission. 

When they were kids growing up in New Jersey, Stan and Ford would often listen in on their mother’s customers by carefully picking up the second receiver downstairs in the pawn shop. All they had to do was cover the mic and be careful not to giggle too much, and even their mom wouldn’t realize they were listening in until either one of them laughed too loud or dropped the phone. Stan’s landline had a second receiver in the gift shop, right next to the cash register.

The old conman picked up the phone, pressed his thumb over the mic, and held the speaker up to his ear. Bingo! It was still ringing, and it didn’t seem that Ford realized his brother was listening in, as the old nerd was humming to himself as he waited.

“Hello? Stanford?” Debbs asked as she answered the phone.

Ford's little gasp was amplified by the crackle of his breath into the phone's mic. "H-how did you-- you know who I am?"

"Caller ID, silly!" She explained with a giggle. "I know you're old, Stan, but it's been a thing since the 80's."

"Actually, it's been around since the 60's," Ford corrected her, "although I imagine its use became much more widespread after 1982."

"Uh, yeah… Stanford, are you sick? You sound, um… you don't sound like yourself."

Stan grit his teeth. Sure, rub salt in that wound. Because his brother didn't already hate him enough.

"I'm fine." Ford answered stiffly. "It's an incredibly long story, one I don't have time to relate over the phone now. Suffice to say, I'm more myself now than I've been in the last 30 years. But I have more important things to discuss with you."

"Is everything ok?" Debbs asked, a hint of worry coloring her voice.

Don't mention the dream demon threatening to kill us all! Stan thought desperately.

"Oh, I'm not calling about any trouble." Ford assured her.

Stan breathed a sigh of relief. So his brother wasn't completely clueless after all.

"I'm actually calling because I have a great opportunity for Dipper and Mabel!" The old researcher continued enthusiastically.

"Did you find discounted bus tickets?"

"No. In fact, there's a good chance you won't need to buy bus tickets at all! You see, I'd like to take Dipper on as my apprentice studying the anomalies of Gravity Falls! Mabel is welcome to stay too, although I'll need to find an appropriate teacher for her as soon as I take care of… ah, some more pressing matters in my work. I promise you, I'll make sure they continue to keep in regular contact with you through weekly letters, and with modern communications technology, you'll be able to talk with them face-to-face whenever you like. We'll also make time to come down and visit as often as our studies will allow. All I need is your permission for them to continue their stay here."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Debbs giggled nervously, like she was forcing herself to laugh at a joke she didn't get.

"Uhhh, that's great Stan. Are you practicing one of your new sales pitches on me?"

"I assure you, this is not one of my brother's schemes." Ford insisted. "You're my family, I would never expect any kind of compensation, regardless of how much the price of a secondary education had risen."

"Secondary education? I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"I realize they're both at a seventh-grade level now, but I have twelve PhD's. With my one-on-one personalized teaching, even Mabel could begin learning at the college level in a couple of years. As for Dipper, I'm confident he could reach that level before next summer."

“No.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll need to speak to your husband about it first, but we’ve still got another week to come to an agreement.”

Debbs' voice switched from sweet and patient to icy and venomous. "Listen, I dunno who you think you are, but you're not getting my kids!!"

“Y-you misunderstand me.” Ford’s voice faltered. “I don’t want to take your kids away from you, I’m just trying to give them a better education than what’s available to them back in California. Like I said, we’ll keep in regular contact, and we’ll come to visit--”

“Oh, I don’t care what kinda ‘better education’ you’re offering!” Debbs snapped sharply. “Nothing is worth being separated from my children!”

“What? But… but you’re separated from them right now! You’ve been separated for months! Why is it suddenly a problem now?” Ford asked in confusion.

“Two and a half months.” Debbs clarified. “Two and a half months so they could get out of the city and spend some time in the great outdoors, and even that’s been hard. And you expect me to just… just let my babies move away?”

“E-everyone moves away from home eventually, though.” Ford reasoned. “Surely, you don’t want them to still be living with you when they’re in their thirties!”

“Eventually, maybe. But not when they’re barely even thirteen!” She retorted. “Now you listen to me Stanford, or whoever you are. My kids had better be on the bus back to Piedmont come next Friday, or I’m coming up there to get them myself. And you’d better believe if I have to do that, they’re never going back to Gravity Falls again!”

With that, she hung up. Stan quickly hung up as well, so Ford didn’t notice the line was still active. 

“...Great.” Stan hissed to himself, massaging his temples. That stress headache was really setting in now. 

He’d been counting on this talk with the kids’ folks to be a wake-up call to Ford, but he hadn’t stopped to think about how much damage control he was gonna have to do afterwards. How could he have forgotten how much of an interpersonal relationship disaster his brother was? He should have been there in the same room with Ford, coaching him through it, making sure the nerd didn’t screw things up for both of them like this. 

Stan picked the phone back up and dialed Deborah’s number, hoping against all logic that she’d pick up. He needed to fix this, or he might never be allowed to see the kids again. The old conman felt a wave of relief when she actually answered.

“Debbs, that wasn’t me on the phone just now!” He shouted into the receiver the moment he heard her pick up.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” she replied. “Do you know who that was? What’s going on?”

“Uh… just some guy I went to highschool with back in Jersey.” The best way to sell a lie is with a bunch of technically true facts. “He’s here visiting.”

"What is his problem!?"

“I dunno, Debbs, he’s got some serious issues.” Stan rolled his eyes. “But, you know I’d do anything to make sure Dipper and Mabel come home safe to you, right? You don’t gotta worry.”

“I know, Stanford, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d really don’t feel comfortable with the kids spending time with your friend.”

“We, uh, we’re not exactly friends anymore.” Stan clarified, his heart sinking.

"Well, that should make it easier to tell him to stay away from my children."

Stan had originally just called Debbs back to reassure her and make sure he didn't lose the privilege of taking care of the kids. He'd done that. He could just say 'You got it' and hang up, but he didn't. Instead he found himself opening up his mouth and defending his brother.

"Look, I know he was way out of line, tryin' to ask you to send the kids up here year-round, but I swear to you, he doesn't mean 'em any harm. He, uh, he's been on his own for a long time, and he's been through some terrible stuff. I'm not exaggerating when I say Dipper and Mabel are probably the best thing to happen to him in 30 years. He wasn't great with people before, and all that time alone definitely didn't help. I tried to tell him he couldn't just invite the kids to stay here all year, but he wouldn't listen to me. So I told him to call you. I shouldn'ta done that, I'm sorry. It, uh, it's my fault."

Stan wasn’t sure why he was sticking his neck out for his brother like this, but regardless of how he and his brother felt about each other, Stan knew the kids loved Ford, and the nerd loved them right back. Even if Mabel was really upset with Ford right now. If the girl could forgive someone like Pacifica Northwest, she'd definitely make up with her mysterious new uncle who spoke in overdramatic monologues and sent her to look for unicorns. It would break all three of their hearts if they weren’t allowed to see each other any more. 

Debbs sighed, but it was with more fondness than frustration. “Helping someone heal from trauma does sound just like my little angels… but can you promise me he’s not dangerous?”

Stan remembered what he’d told Dipper, just last week. My brother is a dangerous know-it-all… 

But hey, he was already an expert at lying to his family.

“Yeah, sure, I promise. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure he’d take a bullet for either of them. Not, heh, not that he would ever need to!”

“Well, ok. I suppose that’s the best I can ask for, short of driving up there and having a talk with him myself.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend it. We’re at peak tourist season here, the Mystery Shack’s a hive of activity.” Stan said, looking out over the deserted gift shop.

“Well, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to call me.”

“Hey, family comes first.”

“Too right. Oh, and I never got your… uh, acquaintance’s name.”

“Fffffrank.”

“Ok. Please try and have another talk with Frank. I know you said he wouldn’t listen to you, but--”

“Oh trust me, I’m gonna have a long talk with him.”

“Thank you, Stan. Take care!”

“Yeah, you too.” Stan hung up and turned to his handyman. “Soos, hold down the fort for me, and keep an eye on the vending machine. I gotta go have another talk with my brother.”

[johns-prince]

Music Mix: John Lennon

1st || 2nd

The Hills || The Weeknd

I only fuck you when it's half past five The only time I'd ever call you mine I only love it when you touch me, not feel me When I'm fucked up, that's the real me When I'm fucked up, that's the real me, babe

In The Night || The Weeknd

He sang a song when he did it He was cold and he was so unforgiving Now she dances to the song on the minute Yeah, all the time, all the time It make her weak when she hear it

Uncomfortable || Chase Atlantic

I'm coming down heavy from the Adderall Borderline drowning in these messy thoughts I'll come down once I get some more This substance got a hold on me, I'm insecure 

I'm hearing voices, what the fuck's that sound? I'm going through problems I shouldn't talk about I'm thinking it's over but, shit, I'll ride it out

No Friends || Chase Atlantic 

I ain’t got no friends in this You should stay away, I fell aggressive I know I asked politely but I’m anxious And I don’t need you preachin’ ‘bout whatever I might lose my shit and leave forever

I ain't got no friends On the guest list, no I ain't got no friends On my mattress, no I ain't got no friends Oh, you an actress? Act this Walk the fuck away and don't look back, bitch 

Heartless || The Weeknd

'Cause I'm heartless And I'm back to my ways 'cause I'm heartless All this money and this fame got me heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless Said I'm heartless Tryna be a better man but I'm heartless Never be a wedding plan for the heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless

I lost my heart and my mind I tried to always do right I thought I lost you this time You just came back in my life You never gave up on me (why don't you?) I'll never know what you see (why won't you?) I don't do well when alone (oh, yeah) You hear it clear in my tone

Therapy || All Time Low

My ship went down in a sea of sound When I woke up alone, I had everything A handful of moments, I wished I could change And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade

Give me a therapy, I'm a walking travesty But I'm smiling at everything Therapy, you were never a friend to me And you can keep all your misery

Arrogant boy Love yourself so no one has to They're better off without you (They're better off without you)

Arrogant boy 'Cause a scene like you're supposed to They'll fall asleep without you You're lucky if your memory remains

I’m Still Here || John Rzeznik

I am a question to the world not and answer to be Heard or a moment that's held in your arms and what do you think you'd ever say I won't listen anyway you don't know me and I'll never be what you want me to be and what do you think you'd understand I'm a boy no, I'm a man You can't take me and throw me away And how can you learn what's never shown Yeah you stand here on your own They don't know me Cause I'm not here

And I want a moment to be real Wanna touch things I don't feel Wanna hold on and feel I belong And how can the world want me to change They're the ones that stay the same They don't know me Cause I'm not here

And you see the things they never see All you wanted I could be Now you know me and I'm not afraid And I wanna tell you who I am Can you help me be a man They can't break me As long as I know who I am

They can't see me But I'm still here

Silhouette || Owl City

I'm tired of waking up in tears, 'Cause I can't put to bed these phobias and fears I'm new to this grief I can't explain; But I'm no stranger to the heartache and the pain     The fire I began, is burning me alive But I know better than to leave and let it die I'm a silhouette asking every now and then Is it over yet? Will I ever feel again? I'm a Silhouette chasing rainbows on my own But the more I try to move on the more I feel alone So I watch the summer stars to lead me home I'm sick of the past I can't erase, A jumble of footprints and hasty steps I can't retrace, The mountains of things that I still regret, Is a vile reminder that I would rather just forget (No matter where I go) 

Get Off My Back || Bryan Adams

Well you think that you can take me on You must be crazy There ain't a single thing you've done That's gonna phase me Oh, but if you want to have a go I just wanna let you know

Get off my back! And into my game Get out of my way! And out of my brain Get outta my face! Or give it your best shot I think it's time you better face the fact Get off of my back!

I’m Born to Run || American Authors

I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run I'm gonna spend my time like tomorrow won't come Do whatever I want like I'm born to run I wanna see Paris, I wanna see Tokyo I wanna be careless even if I break my bones I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run

Mad Hatter Cover || Toogla

I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad The craziest friend that you've ever had You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong Over the bend, entirely bonkers You like me best when I'm off my rocker Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed So what if I'm crazy? The best people are

Déjà Vu || 3oh!3

Mister bartender, you will kick me out And the blond girl in the back, you'll put your tongue down my mouth And the greaser in the jacket's gonna pick a fight And they'll probably kick my ass 'cause I'm drunk every night

Officer, officer, tell me the truth How many times can I get in trouble with you Before they lock me up for all the bad things that I do But you don't and that's why this feels like déjà vu

Everywhere I Go || Hollywood Undead

When I start drinking My dick does all my thinking Hoes want to be scene with me And I like their big fake titties D cup with extra filling Take it out let me lick it quickly Calm down its just a hickie I'll blame it on this whisky sipping gets me tipsy Drink fast and enjoy your buzz Take back street to avoid the fuzz I wanna take you home but your friends won't let ya I gotta 40 in my ford fiesta Buy beer Or pay the rent My signing bonus was quickly spent So I beat my meat like I'm a fucking butcher And I punk the pussy like I'm Ashton Kutcher!  

Afraid || The Neighborhood

All my friends always lie to me I know they're thinking You're too mean, I don't like you, fuck you anyway You make me wanna scream at the top of my lungs It hurts but I won't fight you You suck anyway You make me wanna die, right when I

When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place

Being me can only mean Feeling scared to breathe If you leave me then I'll be afraid of everything That makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down Lets me face this, let me sleep, and when I wake up Let me breathe

Take What You Want || Post Malone ft. Ozzy Osbourne

I feel you crumble in my arms down to your heart of stone You bled me dry just like the tears you never show Why don't you take what you want from me? Take what you need from me Take what you want and go Why don't you take what you want from me? Take what you need from me Take what you want and go

I never needed anything from you ...And all I ever asked was for the truth (all I ever asked was for) You showed your tongue and it was forked in two Your venom was lethal, I almost believed you (almost believed you) Yeah, you preyed on my every mistake Waited on me to break, held me under hopin' I would drown Like a plague, I was wasting away Tryna find my way out, find my way out (find my way out) 

Mantra || Bring Me the Horizon

Before the truth will set you free, it'll piss you off Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra

Breaking the Habit || Linkin Park

I don't know what's worth fighting for Or why I have to scream I don't know why I instigate And say what I don't mean I don't know how I got this way I’ll never be alright

Bleed it Out || Linkin Park

Filthy mouth, no excuse Find a new place to hang this noose String me up from atop these roofs Knot it tight so I won't get loose

Truth is you can stop and stare Bled myself out and no one cares Dug a trench out, laid down there With a shovel up out of reach somewhere

Mama, help me, I've been cursed Death is rolling in every verse Candy paint on his brand new hearse

Can't contain him; He knows he works Fuck this hurts, I won't lie Doesn't matter how hard I try Half the words don't mean a thing

Figure.09 || Linkin Park

Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them Sometimes I wonder why this is happenin' It's like nothing I can do would distract me when I think of how I shot myself in the back again 'Cause from the infinite words I can say I Put all pain you gave to me on display But didn't realize instead of setting it free I Took what I hated and made it a part of me

....

Hearing your name the memories come back again I remember when it started happening I see you n' every thought I had and then The thoughts slowly found words attached to them And I knew as they escaped away I was committing myself to em n' everyday I regret saying those things 'cause now I see that I Took what I hated and made it a part of me

Lying From You || Linkin Park

When I pretend Everything is what I want it to be I look exactly like what you had always wanted to see When I pretend I can forget about the criminal I am Stealing second after second just cause I know I can, but I can't pretend this is the way it will stay, I'm just (Trying to bend the truth) I can't pretend I'm who you want me to be

....

I remember what they taught to me Remember condescending talk of who I ought to be Remember listening to all of that and this again So I pretended up a person who was fitting in And now you think this person really is me and I'm (trying to bend the truth) But the more I push The more I'm pulling away

Lithium || Nirvana 

I'm so happy because today I've found my friends They're in my head I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cause so are you We've broken our mirrors

...

I'm so lonely but that's okay I shaved my head And I'm not sad And just maybe I'm to blame for all I've heard But I'm not sure I'm so excited, I can't wait to meet you there But I don't care I'm so horny but that's okay My will is good

[mellicose]

Doctor ... WTF?

An impassioned rant about the steady decline of Doctor Who, the trajectory of the Thirteenth Doctor, and the righteous indignation after The Timeless Children, not only as a Whovian, but as a woman-

I love how certain people are spinning The Timeless Children as being good, yet the BBC has released (2)TWO statements basically telling fans the following:

“Doctor Who is a beloved long-running series and we understand that some people will feel attached to a particular idea they have of the Doctor, or that they enjoy certain aspects of the programme more than others. Opinions are strong and this is indicative of the imaginative hold that Doctor Who has – that so many people engage with it on so many different levels.

We wholeheartedly support the creative freedom of the writers and we feel that creating an origin story is a staple of science fiction writing. What was written does not alter the flow of stories from William Hartnell’s brilliant Doctor onwards – it just adds new layers and possibilities to this ongoing saga.”

Creative freedom, huh? Ask Joe Hill about it. Or Gaiman. The writers, including Chibnall, are only free to do what the Beeb and the other show investors tell them. 

They go on:

“We have also received many positive reactions to the episode’s cliff-hanger. There are still a lot of questions to be answered, and we hope that you will come back to join us and see what happens, but we appreciate that it’s impossible to please all of our viewers all of the time and your feedback has been raised with the programme’s Executive Producer." 

Uglylaughing.gif

There is a huge, monumental difference between 'not being able to please everyone all at the same time' and basically making a whole fandom, New and Classic, young and old, come together with the same level of disgust and disappointment.

I also find the people arguing "Canon? What canon?" about the Doctor now being the Lord and Savior of the Shining World of the Seven Systems to be foolish at best, and disingenuous at worst.

No canon?? So what have I been steeping myself in for years  - a vague approximation of a tale? Please. Of course, writers have embellished and alluded, but tampering with the unspoken but well-known 'no touch' rule about the Doctor's origin is ... well, it's canon, in and of itself...

...which Chibnall completely wrecked, and I can't imagine why. Hubris? By all accounts, he was a fan. I thought Moffat was a dick for bringing back Gallifrey, but now, to me, my disappointment then vs now is like comparing a fart to a shitstorm.

Please excuse the scatological references, but I'm using it deliberately. It is a swirling turd, which I and many others wish we could flush down and forget forever.

In another RadioTimes article - which basically is the BBC - amongst the usual apologetics, Huw Fullerton drops this little gem:

“The glory days of David Tennant et al were in a different TV landscape, and if the Tenth Doctor touched down now it seems unlikely he’d command anything close to the ratings he did over a decade ago.”

Yeah, you can all take a break to have a hearty laugh. Or throw up. Whichever. Did they just hint that, basically, the incarnation of the Doctor who continues to get as much love (if not more) than Four, who still consistently gets thousands of butts in seats in conventions worldwide, and has made the BBC hundreds of thousands of pounds sterling in merchandising “wouldn’t command the ratings he did in 2008?”

As Gary Buechler of Nerdrotic said in his response to this article: “Actually, if David Tennant had been given as many chances as Jodie Whittaker, it would’ve had Game of Thrones-level ratings.”

And I agree. Not because I’m a Tenth Doctor stan, but because it’s just ... categorically true. His seasons consistently got average rating of 7.5 to 8 million viewers - and this in a time before BBCiPlayer, so 7-day catch up ratings meant nothing. It was butts on sofas then, which, to me, speaks of a massive, sustained interest.

But Huw goes on to say that such things mean nothing. And that the huge, telling sink in both overnight and 7-day ratings between the 11th and 12th seasons, and the dismal 4.69m 7 day ratings for The Timeless Children - the lowest for a NewWho finale since its reboot - shouldn’t be taken as a loss of interest from the fandom.

Then, pray tell goodman, what does it mean? Does it mean that fans are following the Thirteenth Doctor’s adventures in spirit? Ratings are tanking. Outside of the precious few who blindly tweet and write articles about the show solely based on its now female protagonist, people are notoriously furious, especially after the execrable season finale.

Yet BBC’s Piers Wenger, who once produced the show, says “I don’t think it’s been in better health, editorially. I think it’s fantastic and I think that, the production values obviously have never been better.”

Right. Okay. So, putting Tom Ford makeup on a pig makes it haute couture, huh? The writing is appalling, and after two excruciatingly painful to watch seasons, the Doctor has failed to appear - all I’ve seen is borderline sociopathic navel gazing from an ‘alien’ wearing a pastel duster.

How dare you besmirch the unfailingly cool reputation of the long coat, Chibnall? Jodie? How?? 

I will not let someone piss on my head and call it rain ... ‘because it’s a woman.’ Assuming I’ll accept it just adds insult to injury. Who do they think we are, as female fans? I will not cosign garbage to further an agenda that is ultimately damaging one of my favorite things ever, Doctor Who. I agree that politics, and a positive moral, have always been a part of DW, but at it’s best the writing was so good that it only added to the entertainment. Now, the BBC is feeding us all the bitter pill, without the kindness to hide it in a piece of tasty cheese. It gives the impression that they believe we are already so indoctrinated that we no longer need artifice!

Well, not only am I not indoctrinated, but I refuse to ingest.

I refuse to allow people to silence me because the Doctor is now a woman, and so am I. That, I shouldn’t say anything, or complain, because it’s an act of rebellion on womankind, not only in entertainment, but in general. Well, to that I say ... er ... I disavow.

Disavow. Disavow.

And this from a woman who once criticized Peter Davison for saying that casting a woman was “a vital loss of a role model for boys,” taking it as a sexist comment when in truth, it was just a relevant narrative concern about gender-swapping the traditionally male-presenting Time Lord. Just changing a character from male to female doesn’t do anything but demonstrate a tone-deafness about the emotional and physical differences between men and women, which exist whether we want to address them or not. This is why genderswap reboots are terrible. They are trying to further the feminist agenda, while surreptitiously painting traditional, every day femininity as weakness, and something to be avoided at all costs. I reject the modern Hollywood representation of what a ‘strong woman’ is meant to be. I can be clever, yet sensitive enough to comfort a friend when they confide their fears about a cancer relapse. I can be funny, and not at the expense of the man in the room. I can be brave, but not at the expense of my friends. The mind boggles as to why they thought their current tack with the Doctor was going to be any good. The Doctor is a woman, but more importantly, she’s a Timelord. Where are they? Is the alien that we’ve known and loved for the last 60 years truly gone away, and Thirteen is from a whole different timeline? If so, I don’t want to know her. 

And it breaks my heart.

Why continue to support a corporation who thinks of me, the fan, as no more than a heartless, thoughtless consumer? A drone? A sheep who has no conscious idea of what I like or need?

I’m done. It’s been two seasons of absolute dreck, with absolutely no sign of a course-correction due to the overwhelmingly negative response. I may be many things, but I’m no masochist - even in the name of love. And Chibnall, knowing that many fans would go back to the classic stories to cleanse ourselves, went back to the beginning and took a giant shit there too. 

Oh, the cleverness! the absolute schadenfreude of not only tampering, but rewriting the Doctor’s origins! I suppose that tells me he truly was once a fan. But no longer. Even if it turns out that the Master is as full of crap as Chibnall and it’s all an orchestrated lie, I don’t care anymore. Every inexplicable, terrible thing that happened before has already exhausted my patience with the narrative.

As veteral DW writer and script editor Terrance Dicks said:

If you’re concentrating on putting forth a political message, rather than on doing a really good show, I think there is a danger, maybe, you can do both but it would be hellish difficult, and I think that there’s maybe a danger that the show wouldn’t as be as good as it could or should be, because you’re not looking at the right aims.”

It seems like all that has been lost in time. Big corporations are buying up beloved science fiction properties, and systematically destroying them by trying to mix their politics into the mythos. [see ‘the fandom menace’]

I say, don’t support things that make you unhappy, in the name of nostalgia. That’s how they continue to upset us, while lining their pockets with our hard earned money. Complaining amongst ourselves, writing emails, or making angry Youtube videos no longer works anyway. Now is the time to just ... let it go. No more special edition DVDs, novelizations, or pretty action figures. Hit them in the pocketbook. We will still have fond memories of better times. I will not let them hijack, retcon, and retool them too.

There is a telling paragraph hidden in the depths of the article, which makes my DW fangirl sink:

It’s not as simple as “the ratings are down so Doctor Who will be cancelled,” as for the publicly-funded BBC there’s an interesting question about exactly what ratings are for beyond bragging rights. Obviously they need to make TV that people want to watch – but which people?

Not us, Huw. That’s who.

[atamascolily]

Lily liveblogs: “The Rise of Skywalker,” part three

I end as I began: hopelessly confused about what the point of all this was. (Except for money. I got that part loud and clear.)

Rey just leaves Finn behind, because... friendship, right? Jannah does not have a good opinion of Rey right now, and tbh, I can't blame her. I realize Rey is under a lot of stress, but... her behavior since arriving on this "moon of Endor" has been wayyyy out of line.

Also, Poe pulls up with the Falcon right then, so I guess they got it repaired in record time, lol. Convenient.

Meanwhile, at the Resistance Jungle Base, everyone is sad because Leia is dead. I wonder who's in charge now???

"Goodbye, dear princess." Oh, so she's a General right up until she dies, and then it's back to princess again? I wish the ST would make up its mind about her title.

Oh, I guess Poe is, since he showed up and actually has a rank??

Chewie LOSES IT at the news Leia is dead--I feel you, bud. I feel you so hard.

Kylo tries to look dignified as he broods on the wreckage, but he looks awful. Like a drowned rat, with a convenient lightsaber-shaped hole in his tunic where Rey stabbed him. (She didn't even take the saber with her or drop it into the sea or anything! WHHYYYYYYYYYYY - gimme a reason, any reason, even a stupid one.)

And then Han shows up. Is he a ghost? Is this a memory? Is Kylo hallucinating? WHAT WHAT WHAT IS HAPPENING??? (This would have so much more resonance if we had SEEN how Han's death impacted Kylo earlier on instead of that one confused flashback at the beginning of the film....)

grizzled Harrison Ford looks great, why the hell did they kill him off in the first movie whyyyyyy

Okay, so they answer the question and this is a memory, which is fine, I usually love this trope, BUT it would be hella more effective if we'd seen Kylo arguing/interacting with memories of Han earlier instead of this happening for the first time NOW...

"Come home." Uhhhhhh, I honestly don't know what exactly Leia did, but she certainly kinda abetted killing him. What home does Kylo have now, anyway??

So Han says that what Leia fought for is still around, which is true, but Kylo is ostensibly the supreme leader here, so he doesn't just have to go AWOL, he can drag the FO leadership with him, and what passes for their government, he could SURRENDER and end the war right now. Does he? Of course not. He fucks off all by his lonesome after Rey and Palpatine because... that's all he knows how to do, apparently.

There's a callback that is supposed to resonate but doesn't work for me, because I just can't make myself feel for Kylo at all. Yes, redemption is hard. Yes, you have to work for it. Stop whining and just do it!!

We're supposed to think that Kylo will stab Han again (I guess?) but he turns and throws his saber into the sea. So that's why Rey didn't take it - so he could make a dramatic fucking gesture with it.

Palps is upset that Leia messed up his plans, but whatever. He orders Pryde, who apparently is now in charge of the FO in Kylo's absence, to come to Exegol. Apparently Pryde is a diehard Imperial (and possibly Sith cultist/Palpatine's secret puppet/agent??) I guess. It's never explained, he's just bad. And his name isn't subtle, either.

Palps just wants to burn everything to the ground for... evulz, I guess? I got nothing.

Pryde's star destroyer pops out a giant gun and blows up a planet.... apparently, Kijimi. Why, I don't know. Because they were just there?? Anyway, BOOM. Kijimi literally explodes.

What the actual fuck. How is that EVEN POSSIBLE?? What was the point of building two Death Stars if a Star Destroyer can do that????

Oh, apparently, that was the new model from the "Sith fleet" with a better upgrade. sounds fake, but okay. Poe is not thrilled by this news. The same Resistance member brings him the bad news, so I guess that's her official job??

Poe is genre-savvy enough to know that every ship in the Sith fleet has planet destroying weapons and they're doomed unless they stop the Final Order... which isn't new? I thought there was a countdown to an attack in 16 hours or something. What did they think they were attacking with? I don't even know, this movie is that incoherent.

Rose pops in with a message broadcasting on every channel about the "Resistance is dead. The Sith flame will burn. All worlds, surrender or die"... but given that it's in a language that isn't Basic, there's this one random dude with a beard who translates for the audience... and even though I assume it's meant to be some more commonly spoken language, given that the Sith have their own language in this movie, It makes it seem like this Random Resistance dude understands Sith and... I have questions.

Poe goes to sit by Leia's shrouded corpse because apparently they haven't buried her yet??? I wish Poe and Leia's relationship was more prominent in the movies, because I love the dynamic they're supposed to have, but never actually manifests in any of these movies.

Lando shows up to console him!

"How did you defeat an Empire with almost nothing?" "We had each other."

DAMN RIGHT YOU DID AND THE NEW GENERATION COULD TOO, IF THE WRITERS WEREN'T INTENT ON SEPARATING THEM CONSTANTLY AND MAKING EVERYBODY SUFFER....

Poe decides to make Finn his co-general. I have a lot of feels about this.

Turns out D-O knows all about Exegol because he used to belong to Ochi... that's actually earned, I'll allow it. Hilarious Rey never asked the droid about it  (or any other details of his past, given that she was pretty sure Ochi killed her parents).

Ahch-To! Rey is wearing her hood and I don't know why. She's throwing driftwood into the flaming wreckage of Kylo's TIE and sobbing and... I don't know what's going on here. There are SO MANY REASONS she could be crying, I don't even know.

And she tosses her lightsaber into the sea... just like Kylo did. Parallels. I get it. And just like Luke did to her... She's giving it up because she doesn't feel worthy of being a Jedi because of her heritage, I guess?? (I'm guessing because this movie doesn't explain shit.)

Speaking of which, there's Luke's ghost, right on schedule! I love his snark but it's SO OUT OF LINE given his behavior in the last movie... and the fact that Yoda told him he had to let go of the past and let the books burn. I mean... the fuck???

Rey has this dark throne vision that's driving her, but ironically that's the one vision we don't see in this whole mess.. we have all these OTHER visions instead, I can' teven keep them all straight.

Oh, she's decided to model Luke and fuck off to Ahch-To forever because she feels she made a mistake. that's absolutely the WRONG LESSON from Luke's life, Rey!!

(also, what happened to saving the world? The sith wayfinder? She just conveniently forgot Palpatine was gonna slaughter everybody because she's having heritage angst?????)

Leia not telling Rey about Rey's heritage makes perfect sense when you realize just how much Leia's life was fucked over by the knowledge that Darth Vader was her father--once in ROTJ and again when she got kicked out of the Senate and ostracized in Bloodline.

Luke has Leia's lightsaber conveniently hidden in his hut... so now Kylo/Ben can have a weapon of his own in the upcoming fight, gag. (Really, Rey should use it to make a double-bladed saber, but she won't, sigh.)

The flashback looks like a video game to me. The CGI is not terrible, but doesn't look nearly as real as the rest of the film to me.

Also, I'm forever mad that Leia gave up her saber thinking it would save her son, that is SO AWFUL, especially since IT DIDN'T WORK, HE STILL TURNED OUT EVIL ANYWAY AND RUINED YOUR LIFE.

"A thousand generations live in you now" would have so much more resonance if Rey was an avatar of the Force or a reincarnation of Anakin instead of the metaphorical. (Yes, I know it will be realized literally later on.)

[Just realized that Kylo's obsession with Rey would make TOTAL SENSE if she were an reincarnation of Anakin given how much he idolizes his grandfather!!!]

Whyyyyy doesn't Luke talk here about the revelation that Palpatine is alive? That he and his father failed to kill the Emperor? That Rey has to finish LUKE'S journey, too??? But no, it's all about Leia here.

Rey somehow didn't notice the wayfinder in Kylo's TIE until Luke says "you have everything you need"... I guess? I don't know how she missed it before!!!

And the X-wing rises out of the water like the deus ex machina that it is... somehow still spaceworthy after six years in the ocean. Okay, then.

Apparently, Force ghost Luke can still manipulate physical objects through the Force??? Okay, I can kinda buy that, but... still....

I love how Artoo doesn't even wait for Threepio to get started with the bullshit, he just imports the uploaded memories right away without asking. Normally, I'd be mad about consent, but a) they're married, and b) he's restoring Threepio's personality, so I'm okay with it.

I love how warped and creepy the space is around Exegol.

Also, D-O looks just like a desk lamp.

Oh, so the Resistance follows Rey through Luke's X-wing computer via Artoo. Convoluted, but it works, I guess.

Okay, so time for some technobabble, but there's a navigation tower (the new shield generator) they have to hit for REASONS with a "ground team" (aka strike team). Sigh.

Love the dismissal of the "Holdo maneuver"--which is essentially kamikaze-style suicide. Not a great battle strategy if you want to survive the fight.

Wait, wasn't Poe angsting earlier about how nobody answered their call from Crait back in the last movie? What makes him think this is going to be any different?????

Okay, so all the FO folks on are on Exegol now?? Who is piloting and crewing those Star Destroyers?? Are they First Order or Final Order people? What happened to the First Order? What is the relationship between the First Order and the Final Order? Are they the same thing with two different names?? (But no, there are two fleets, the Sith destroyers are different.) What happened to the First Order then? Does anyone notice and/or care the alleged "Supreme Leader" of the First Order is missing in action??? I'M SO CONFUSED.

Okay, it makes sense that Poe is in an X-wing given he's a hotshot pilot, but he's also a general, and... I'm so confused about the tactical aspect of that, but fine, whatever. Also, Artoo is in the X-wing with him instead of BB-8, who I thought was Poe's droid (to the point of reaming Rey over injuring him earlier in the film!!!) WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE???

we're baaaaacck in the creepy sith ruins just like the beginning of the film, but so much has happened that my brain has fried and so the parallels are not as compelling as they could be.

WHEN DID THEY PICK UP JANNAH?? Has she been there the entire time and we just didn't see her until now, or did they stop back at Endor's moon along the way??? I'M SO CONFUSED!!!

Finn has " a feeling" where the ship is... it's the Force, why are you teasing us like that. LET HIM BE A JEDI.

Okay, I actually really like the fact that all the FO deserter stormtroopers from Endor are using their mounts so their enemies can use the tech against them. That's poetic justice right there. And also, epic cool. Good thing all the ships are still in the atmosphere... (nobody's wearing masks like Finn did for the Kijimi pickup)

I don't know how there is lightning in a fucking underground pyramid, but 10/10 for aesthetic, I love it.

"Grandma, it's me, Anastasia"--oh, wait, never mind.

The reveal that Rey is in a giant arena is hella creepy, even though it makes NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. Where do all these people come from? What do they do? Where do they live? What do they EAT?? Are they born Sith? Brainwashed Sith?? Cultists? Clones??? I NEED ANSWERS HERE.

Palpatine dangling in his creepy metal arm-thing is a lot like GLADoS from Portal.

So... Palpatine can possess the person who kills him in anger??? Explains a LOT about how he treated Luke, actually. And why it was so important that Anakin finish him - one, because Anakin's body was failing, and two, because he did it for love.

Love the aesthetic of the flickering lights for added creepiness and nothing is quite real. Even if it makes no sense. My id knows what it wants, okay??

Jannah and Finn teaming up for the battle is great, BB-8 actually gets to do something for once, and I love Jannah's crossbow.

Oh, now Palps is going to monologue about Rey's parents, while telling us no interesting details whatsoever. Sigh.

HOW THE FUCK DID KYLO GET TO EXEGOL AGAIN????????????????? she left him stranded in the middle of a frikkin' OCEAN... and he just knows how to get back to Exegol without the macguffin,.... how....?

(yes, I know he's supposed to be "Ben Solo" again, but so far there has been zero explanation in the film itself, so I'm just gonna keep calling him Kylo.)

Okay, there's a TIE fighter next to the X-wing, but... where did he GET IT?????????

That "ow" is priceless. I watched that sequence twice.

(clearly Kylo has not been exploring ruins much recently.)

Finn explaining to Rose that he's going to sacrifice himself for the cause, exactly like she wouldn't let him do in the last film... and Rose goes with it. Okay, then.

Now Kylo has to fight his own boy band... who were secretly following the Emperor's orders the entire time (?) THE ENTIRE FIRST ORDER WAS LITERALLY A FRONT TO KEEP KYLO REN DISTRACTED AND KYLO TOTALLY BOUGHT IT. I... have questions, but I actually admire the sheer audacity of this.

Kylo fighting said knights would be way more emotionally engaging if we a) knew anything about them, b) had seen any interactions between Kylo and the knights earlier, and c) gave a shit, but none of those happened, so we don't.

Kylo and Rey have some sort of Force bond communication thing that is super vaguely filmed so it's hard to understand wtf is actually happening. Rey tosss her saber back and... Ben pulls it out behind his back.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK

I won't say that wasn't forshadowed, because it kinda-sorta was. I will just say that this movie has NEVER EXPLAINED HOW THEY CAN DO THAT or talked about it at ALL, just treats it like a fact, and I... have questions about how reality can be bent that way even if you are a Force dyad or whatnot.

So Kylo's fight with the knights parallels Rey's fight with a bunch of Imperial guards and it's so hard to care. Th timer says there's still a half an hour left, how is that possible???

So... it's okay to stab people as long as you do it with the properly colored lightsaber, I guess???

Kylo shows up, he and Rey exchange Meangingful Looks, they raise their sabers, Palps zaps them and slurps up "the lifeforce of your bond" and uses it to grow younger, whatever the hell that means ughhhhhhhh please let this be over soon.

Did he know they were a dyad before? Is THIS his real plan? I'm so confused and I have no idea wtf is going on.

RIP Snap. I guess I should care more about you, but I don't think you're mentioned in any of the other movies, so... *shrugs*

Poe has a meltdown but.... Lando shows up AGAIN to give him a pep talk, and also a fleet. Like seriously, Lando gets results, if he'd been running the Resistance, the war would be OVER by now.

Is the "Nice flying, Lando!" Older!Wedge?? I think so. I hope so, anyway.

Zorii shows up too, to fight and also insult Poe over the comm... I guess she's upset about Kijimi being destroyed? (Or maybe not given how she was so eager to get off it???)

Palps tosses Kylo into a pit, which... given that Palps survived, maybe not the best plan if you wanted to actually kill him.

Then he shoots force lightning through the hole in the arena into the sky and... zaps all the new fighters.

Well.

Okay then.

Rey wakes up and... reaches out to the spirits of past Jedi for help. (Apparently, Palpatine doesn't care about her killing him now, because he's young and healthy again, so it's okay to kill her? I guess he can always try again with another grandkid, lol.)

Also, it's funny how Rey is a Palpatine and blood is sooooo important and scary and destiny until someone's trying to diss her and then she's just "a scavenger girl". And by funny, I mean terrible. Sigh.

"I am all the Sith." I don't think the Sith, by the nature of their existence, can embody their predecessors the way that the Jedi can. I mean, to be a Sith is to be alone, and there is that whole Rule of Two business if that's still canon now. I mean, unless the Sith literally eat their masters and thus become them? But it seems a little late for THAT detail.  

But it's okay because Rey's embodying all the Jedi this time (and has TWO sabers, lol) and she turns Palpatine's Force lightning back on himself and he turns into a crisp. You'd think the Sith Lords would have worked out a defense against that, since that's how Mace Windu scarred him in the first place, but okay then.

The entire arena crumbles. All the faceless cultists are crushed by falling rock. Pryde goeth before the fall. Lando rescues Finn and Jannah before Poe can. All the star destroyers are stranded because the command ship is gone and start blowing up.

Anyway, Rey collapses in the ruins. Finn senses her fall. but Kylo climbs out of the pit and cradles her in his arms. (ewww ewww ewwwwwww NOOOOOOO) and cradles her to his chest [gross gross grossssssss she's dead and can't consent and I can't decide if that makes it grosser or not, she's never let him do this while she was ALIVE fuckkkkkk]. He finally lets go and then places his hand on her stomach, and ughhhhhh I have so many issues with this I don't care if he's reformed, he's been stalking for three films, this is NOT OKAY and does the Force healing trick, and...

literally he could have just put a hand on her forehead or shoulder, which I would still hate, but would be less creepy than this.

Rey wakes up, puts her hands on his, sits up, startled and... doesn't say anything, doesn't even flinch, and smiles. "Ben."

and she kisses him. I knew this was coming. I still hate it.

he smiles, falls over, and dies. Like, literally, it's like Rey's kiss murdered him. I'm a terrible person, I know, but I really can't mourn him.

Kylo's body vanishes (Leia's stayed intact, damn it!) proving I guess that he was good after all?? I thought only special people learned the vanishing trick??? Leia's body vanishes right at the same time, and... I don't get it, I really don't.

Maz apparently skipped the final battle to watch over Leia's corpse and I.... definitely don't get it.

was Leia possessing her son this whole time? What. Just. Happened??????

Rey flies away in Luke's X-wing under her own power, and... "Red Five is in the air again," says Finn. People are rising up all over the galaxy, though against what, I'm not clear, and the skies are suddenly clear, implying that the Emperor was warping the weather with his darkness.

We see Star Destroyers blowing up behind Cloud City and on the FOREST moon of Endor with the Ewoks and I just... never knew they were there??? Were they connected to the rest of the Fleet somehow (like the Katana fleet in Legends??) Where did this come from?? Wicket and his son are clearly satisfied, though why they think anything's going to change is beyond me. And was the First Order oppressing them? Why didn't we see any of their fleet when our protagonists were IN THAT SYSTEM AND SO WAS THE OSTENSIBLE SUPREME LEADER???

Another Star Destroyer crashes on Jakku, so literally NOTHING HAS CHANGED THERE, LOL.

Back at the Resistance Jungle Base, everyone cries and hugs, Poe and Zorii have a moment that goes nowhere, Poe's arm is somehow in a sling (???) There's a very brief lesbian kiss, but it gets even less screen time than Rose Tico, so again, don't think that counts as representation, but nice try.

Maz gives Chewie Han's medal from Yavin and... where the hell did she get it??? Leia's corpse??? Creepy!!

Jannah comes up to Lando and asks him where he's from, and when Lando asks the same question, she say she doesn't know. "Let's find out." Wow, that's way more interesting than most of this movie!

Rey hugs Finn and Poe and I... just... it's the tearful hug of "wow, we've all been through a lot of trauma since we last saw each other and also I was a jerk and threw you across the sea with the Force to get you out of my way and I abandoned you without saying goodbye to isolate myself on an island in the middle of nowhere until my ghost mentor reminded me I could save the day".

ButWeDon'tHavetimetounpackThatNow.jpg

Rey takes the Falcon to the Lars' moisture farm on Tatooine with BB-8. No one is in sight. This is an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, not a shrine to the Legend of Luke Skywalker. Rey slides down the sides on a piece of metal and into the courtyard. She wraps up Luke and Leia's sabers and... we cut to her back up on the ridge near the droid garage, using the Force to bury them in the sand.

Then she pulls out her own saber and it's yellow-bladed and looks like a double quarterstaff (although I only saw the top blade ignite). What she should have had this entire movie.

There's a random woman with an eopie there, who... came over to investigate? there is literally NO ONE ELSE FOR MILES. HOW????

The woman asks who she is, and we have callbacks to that earlier conversation on Pasaana. Rey hesitates, sees Luke and Leia's ghost on the horizon, smiling their approval and says "Rey Skywalker". The movie ends with her standing  watching the double sunset... alone except for BB-8.

Wow, she's literally come full circle from being alone in the desert with a droid to being alone in a different desert with the same droid. What the fuck.

Cue triumphant music and credits.

Oh, and I just realized we never found out what was so important for Finn to tell Rey about... so that went nowhere. I assume it's "he can use the Force" but apparently that wasn't important enough to ACTUALLY INCLUDE, sigh.

Did Rey fuck off to Tatooine to be a hermit? Is she going back to her friends? Is she going to train the next generation of Jedi? How will she keep the cycle from repeating? Is it broken? Is Palpatine really dead this time??? How does she feel about Kylo/Ben?? Is HIS ghost still around stalking her, too? Why did she take the Falcon? Doesn't it belong to Chewie now? Why didn't the rest of the gang come with her???? I'm so confused.

This was even worse than I had anticipated, and I came into this with super-low expectations. This wasn’t bad in a “bad B-movie kind of way,” this was bad in the “nothing makes sense, it’s all jumbled blur, I am numb and cannot begin to care” kind of spectacle.  I cannot imagine watching this in a theater. No wonder the critics savaged this.