#100% convinced this bill is fake

[moonibinbon]

my roommate just came home and gave me $100??? I’m using it on his shoes

[homestuckreplay]

A Hole in the ACE: Anderson, Caveney, Egbert

[This is a deep dive into the pages of Harry Anderson: Wise Guy by Mike Caveney, seen on Homestuck pages 629-630, and its role in the story. About 2.5k words, somehow. A transcript of these pages can be found here.]

=> Read book. Be the wise guy.

Harry Anderson, born in 1952, was a real magician and comedian who achieved mainstream television success in the 1980s and 90s with starring roles in sitcoms and appearances on Saturday Night Live. A street magician since his youth, he continued to tour and perform magic shows well into the 2000s, and opened both a magic shop and a nightclub in New Orleans with his second wife. Wise Guy is the name of a one-man show he presented in his own nightclub beginning in 2005, although he may have used the phrase earlier.

Mike Caveney, born in 1950, has similarly been a magic enthusiast since childhood. As well as performing, he has written over 50 books about magic and its history, including Magic, 1400s-1950s (2009) and of course Harry Anderson: Wise Guy (1993). This is a real book documenting the secrets behind Anderson’s most famous tricks, interspersed with personal anecdotes. John Egbert is lucky to own this – it’s currently out of print, and secondhand editions sell for over $100.

In my attempts to find an online copy of Wise Guy, I found a PDF that billed itself as the book’s introduction, but quickly devolved into a plot summary of Stephen King’s IT. While clearly not the actual introduction, I later learned that Anderson played Richie Tozier in the 1990 television adaptation of IT, which at least explains the connection.

Unfortunately, very little of Wise Guy’s text is available online. One excerpt survives, and accompanies several online publishers’ listings for the book – for example, here. This excerpt describes Harry’s trick ‘The Finger Chopper,’ with his early-career assistant who happened to be missing half a finger. I am almost certain that Andrew Hussie doesn’t own a copy of this book, but that they found this real excerpt, and used it to write their own entirely fake pages for Homestuck.

Some specific phrases appear in both the real excerpt and the Homestuck pages: ‘Here is a perfect example of how Harry could…’ ‘the close up room at the Magic Castle’ and even the full paragraph ‘[he] had one of those little wooden finger choppers that Micky Hades used to sell. The kind where the blade could be removed and clearly shown. It was a very convincing little guillotine that did not look like a novelty store toy. Harry would get a guy to examine the chopper and then cut a cigarette in half. Then he held the guy’s hand up and told this silly story.’

The Magic Castle is a famous performance venue that Anderson really performed at, however it's located in Los Angeles, not New Orleans as the Homestuck version suggests.. Micky Hades is another magician 25 years Anderson and Caveney’s senior, best known for writing and publishing books and magazines on magic. An unverified primary source says that he invented the Finger Chopper while working deep underground in the freezing cold Yellowknife gold mines, which is definitely cool if true.

The rest of what's in Homestuck is invented. In Caveney’s book, Anderson’s trick is successful, no audience members are harmed, and Anderson is presented as a charismatic entertainer in control of the crowd. In Hussie’s version, Anderson’s trick goes horribly wrong, and is presented as overconfident, unpleasant, and ridiculous. There’s a flip back and forth from praising and criticizing Anderson, painting he and Caveney as jilted former business partners who maintain professional respect, or toxic ex-lovers who can’t let each other go.

Hussie also refers to a ‘two foot, six inch height differential’ between Anderson and Caveney, with Anderson implied as the shorter party. Anderson was 6’4”, and while I can’t find a source for Caveney’s height, I think it would have been well documented if Caveney was almost nine feet tall.

Hussie’s version states that once Anderson’s finger chopper trick was successful, he achieved ‘fame, fortune and the crowning position in the television judiciary.’ This refers to his starring role on the sitcom Night Court as Judge Harold T. ‘Harry’ Stone, a 34-year-old night court judge appointed to the bench when none of the other applicants were available to answer their phones. Harry’s methods in the show are unorthodox, including flipping a (secretly double-headed) coin to decide if a woman should go to jail, suggesting in 1984 that the three members of a love triangle try polyamory, and giving a man dressed as Santa information from two teenagers’ government records so that ‘Santa’ could trick the teens into believing in him.

I’d never heard of this show before reading Homestuck, and neither has Rose Lalonde, but John mentions it on p.636. The show appears fairly well received during its original run, winning eight Primetime Emmys, including four consecutive Best Supporting Actor wins for John Larroquette (who withdrew his name from the ballot for future years). I watched a few episodes before making this post and thought the pilot was really great, with subsequent episodes either not living up to its promises, or already feeling stale. It’s over-acted in a way that makes it feel older than its airdate, and definitely tracks as a cheesy thing for John Egbert to enjoy.

The other name mentioned in Hussie’s edition – Blind Willie ‘Buttermilk’ Stubbs – is not a real person, but a legendary jazz musician from Problem Sleuth. This is most likely a reference to the real 1900s blues musician Blind Willie McTell, or the Bob Dylan song of the same name. However, there’s an outside chance it could be another Stephen King connection, as he has a 1994 novella named Blind Willie.

The second trick described in Homestuck, ‘A Hole in the Ace,’ doesn’t appear to be a real Anderson trick. It’s not on this list of the book’s chapter titles, and while I have found evidence of Anderson tearing up cards as part of tricks, I couldn’t find anything about him punching holes. In general this second page is more artistic license and less connected to Anderson’s real life than the first. It seems like this hole-punch trick was invented by Hussie purely to give John the inspiration to advance his alchemy. Narratively this works really well, because John’s not somebody who would come to these ideas by careful thought, but it’s also not satisfying to have Rose always give him the answers.

We’ve seen another Harry Anderson property in John’s room – the fictional video game Call My Bluff, seen on the CD rack (p.31). Although Anderson never had a show named Call My Bluff, in 2000 he hosted an unsold pilot episode of What’s My Line? for Mark Goodson and Bill Todman. Goodson & Todman were famous for creating a variety of TV game shows, including 1965’s Call My Bluff. Is this a coincidence? I genuinely couldn’t tell you.

I really love what Hussie has done with this book. I’d say this qualifies as a transformative work – taking the real text and premise of Wise Guy and mixing it with established MSPA lore, mimicking Caveney’s original writing style while using it to paint a far more absurd picture of Anderson, using it to advance the plot while still feeling like this book could really exist, at least in the Homestuck universe. It shows how much work gets put into Homestuck, even while some plot elements (possibly even John’s decision to read the book) are decided by readers.

=> Read Colonel Sassacre’s text.

Wise Guy is only one of John’s two favorite books. The other of course is Colonel Sassacre’s Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery, and we’ve now seen inside both. They’re fairly different overall. Sassacre’s is a lot more overwrought and soaked in Southern stereotypes, written like it’s trying to squeeze in as many old-timey Southern words as possible, while Wise Guy focuses on telling a story and creating a character. Both texts lean into some grosser imagery than Homestuck usually goes for, with Sassacre’s describing ‘wriggling regency of rubber bugs, plastic parasites, squirming serpents, pliable pests…’ and Wise Guy mentioning ‘a bloody sausage sized piece of a guy’.

The most direct link between the texts is the uncommon phrase ‘listless octoroon,’ which appears in both. Used in the mid to late 1800s, an octoroon was a social and sometimes legal word for somebody who was one-eighth Black. It’s an offensive term that definitely should not be used to describe a real person, and I don’t think it’s funny in fiction either. It reads like another example of ‘post-racial humor’ where Hussie, a white author, uses Blackness as a joke due to a mistaken belief that racism is a thing of the past. This isn’t the first time this specific brand of humor has appeared in Homestuck, and it’s worrying that it’s becoming a pattern.

Sassacre’s, the ‘family tome of humor’ passed down through Egbert generations, focuses on pranking friends and family members, taking those around you by surprise. Wise Guy, which appears to be John’s own interest, is about performing tricks for an audience – both descriptions of the trick and of the mannerisms surrounding the trick that make it successful, leaning into the draw of the professional magician and the cautionary tale of their failures.

Colonel Sassacre’s relevance to Homestuck has so far been as a physical object. It’s what killed Nanna in her human life, it’s been a heavy item in John’s sylladex that he’s used to set off smoke pellets and slay an imp, it was teased as a Tier 2 sprite prototype, and it was found hidden inside Dad’s safe. In contrast, Wise Guy’s relevance has been about the text inside the book, and John’s interpretation of that text.

Which of course makes me wonder about other books we’ve seen in the story. Data Structures for Assholes, the second book of John’s that’s about A-holes, is clearly written to be so over-the-top it becomes funny (like Sassacre’s) but is used for the same purpose as Wise Guy, teaching John a new game mechanic that helps him advance his own story. Other books we’ve seen but haven’t opened are The Fatherly Gent’s Shaving Almanac, found in Dad’s safe, and the writing journals Rose keeps under her bed. Finally, we’ve seen inside Rose’s Grimoire for Summoning the Zoologically Dubious, however as this book is written in the eldritch tongue, it’s hard to offer meaningful insights.

All of these books have been highlighted when they appear, and are more than just a spine among a bookshelf collection. My guess is that all of these will become relevant to the story at some point, whether as objects or as texts.

=> John: Punch card.

Wise Guy first appeared on p.8 of Homestuck, as part of the contents of John’s MAGIC CHEST (now and forever on the roof), which also contains a picture of Anderson stuck to the inside of the lid. John being an ‘aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN’ came up even earlier, on p.4. John claims to love this book, which is ‘one of [his] favorite books of all time’ (p.123), but in truth he only likes specific aspects of the book. In real life, Caveney had great respect for Anderson and wrote his book as a tribute, but this isn’t true in Homestuck – Caveney’s ‘ambivalent attitude toward your favorite magician in these anecdotes always struck [John] as a little weird,’ suggesting that John doesn’t enjoy criticism of his heroes and doesn’t want to engage with the more complex and emotional parts of the text.

John ‘mostly like[s] to look at the diagrams for all the cool tricks.’ Given his aspirations, it makes sense that he’d use it as a manual similar to Sassacre’s instead of a biography – but he’s not reading the book as the author intended. If he did, he’d like it less. In most webcomics, any text is contained within the panels themselves, and any blocks of text below are commentary that isn’t necessary to enjoy the joke or story. MSPA is fairly unique in having narrative text that’s story critical, and I wonder if there are some Homestuck readers who just look at the pictures and think the text is ‘weird’ or extraneous. John’s method of reading Wise Guy fits with the fact that he flits from one thing to another, giving up quickly when something is too much effort, whether that’s hole punching through several cards at once or reading stories that are critical of his hero and hard to understand – but it could also be meta-commentary on readers of Homestuck.

John’s relationship to magic, both past and present, is something I’d really like to see explored in more depth. Now that he has unlimited captchalogue cards and engages with them as physical objects, the possibilities for card tricks are off the charts – and the reasons John likes magic aren't yet known. A magician is a showman, somebody who surprises and delights an audience, but can only do this by concealing much of what they’re doing. A magician has to be a master of their craft and in control of the situation both socially and technically. Magic is believed to be among the oldest performing arts, and while magicians are often thought to be secretive about their tricks, Wise Guy is just one of a huge number of books containing detailed instructions for magic.

John's not usually the character we'd expect to want an air of mystery around himself, but he often tries to hide his emotions, with various degrees of success. He also likes the idea of coding, which is a type of magic - producing an effect (a website) while concealing the methods (lines of code) that went into it. There's not much he's good at yet, but he has the manual dexterity to play piano well, which could translate into sleight of hand tricks. I can see why, as someone who struggles with basically everything, John likes the idea of having a high degree of mastery over something and of making it look effortless. I also see how someone who feels like they're always performing their role in the world, instead of actually embodying it, would gravitate towards being another kind of performer. However, that's just some initial instincts, and as I keep reading and re-reading I'll be on the lookout for more connections between John and stage magic.

Additionally, John now has access to real and powerful magic via alchemy. This is magic that can’t fully be explained by sleight of hand and diagrams in a book, and it’s magic that can provide a shortcut to achieving goals, conjuration instead of illusion. Now that John has this power, will he become disillusioned with the artifice of practical magic, or will he lean into it even harder? Will there continue to be connections between alchemy and the tricks John already knows? Instead of always putting that bunny back in the box, will he start pulling that bunny out of the hat?

Finally, it is surprising that John’s never talked to Rose about Harry Anderson before. Given the depths of his interest, I’d expect it to have come up, but Rose is clueless. When explaining who he is, John says ‘EB: he's awesome EB: that's really all there is to say on the matter!’ which directly calls back to what Dave has said about puppets on p.537. In Dave’s case, he’s trying to convince himself he thinks this, but it’s clear he actually doesn’t. Is it possible that deep down, John actually doesn’t like Harry Anderson? Is magic too close to Egbert family traditions of clowning for John to really feel good exploring it? Is John’s greatest trick of all convincing us that he loves magic?

[monalaniussboyfriend]

BILL COLLINS TIMELINE B4 HELL (ALL OPINIONATED/HEADCANONS!)

(MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!)

- Undiagnosed psychopath, started having violent urges, slowly stopped feeling empathy during childhood and they only got worse with time.

- Has slight trichotillomania, it got worse over time. He pulls and tugs at his hair, but never really actually rips it out until he’s stressed (or until he met Mona)

- Refused to get help as he got older (and as he got worse) because he didn’t want to seen weaker than other men, so he bottled it all up. (and ripped his hair out)

- He thought becoming a cop and starting a family would “make them go away.” (Spoiler! That only made it worse!)

- One of the other reasons he became a cop was to be able to take out his violent urges on criminals, but where he lived there was a low crime rate; This heightened his stress and worry about hurting people he “cared” about (Again, he felt zero empathy towards those who didnt understand him, but tried to convince himself otherwise.)

- He would often take nightshifts at the station to journal out his frustrations while sitting at his desk. These nightshifts would mean that he’d sleep all day until his family came home (His eldest would go to school, while his wife and two month old would go to mother/daughter clubs with her friends)

- His nightshifts would also cause a LOT of issues in his relationship.

- Once he started the job, he began locking himself in the attic, journalling his thoughts and urges because it started weighing on him. Journalling helped both him and Mona.

- Mona stalked him and his family for a while, but specifically Bill.

- She noticed Bill had been violently scribbling into a journal while he was at work one night, so she took it upon herself to find out whatever was happening with him. She wanted to know a weak spot.

(Off topic Mona headcanon. She was looking for a partner in crime for a bit before meeting Bill. She would break into people’s houses and threaten them. It would be like; “Work with me, or I’ll kill you.” and so far everyone chose to be killed!)

- That early morning, she broke into his house, not knowing he was on his way home early (The house is usually empty from 7am til 9am). He just got off a nightshift as she scrambled into the attic and read his journals. The same journals that he wrote about his yearning for an outlet to vent out his urges.

- She had found it, his weak spot.

- As she was leaving, she met a very frustrated Bill. Immediately, he wanted to attack but she held him off.

- “So…a little birdie told me you needed an outlet, hm? I can be that outlet, Bill.” (Pro manipulation 101)

- He agreed, hesitantly and mostly without question.

- This is where he started his killing spree alongside Mona. He finally found his outlet. Someone, someone who understands him.

- He quickly started to gain feelings for Mona, making it easier for her to control him.

- Just because he felt euphoric doesn’t mean he didn’t feel anxious.

- He faked his death solely because he was afraid of getting caught, and Mona wanted him as a constant meat shield, just in case.

- At first, he refused to kill his family, he compromised with Mona and made a deal with her. He would continue to pose as a cop and turn in her self portrait to make him seem like he was about to be a victim of these killers too. (She knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure any longer.) When he turned it in, he was off the suspect list.

- Remember when I said that his nightshifts would fuck with his relationship? Well, he would often skip nightshifts to go out with Mona and asked Ian Ford to cover for him. One night, his wife called the station and asked if Bill was there, and Ian was 100% honest with her.

- That honesty ended everything for Bill. Once he got home, his wife was standing at the door with that stern expression that all wives have when they suspect an affair.

- The questioning quickly turned into a fight, which Bill got very psychical in.

- This fight ended up triggering an extremely violent psychotic episode, in which he brutally slaughtered his entire family.

- Mona arrived a few hours after, when Bill was supposed to be home alone. She helped him clean up the mess and put everything in elaborate spots. (Praised him for giving in as well.)

- That was when Bill couldn’t take it anymore. He started to lose himself in his delusions. In the delusions that Mona had set for him.

- He carefully ripped his own face off and disinfected it, (with drugs ofc) leaving him able to live without a face. He started wearing masks of victims.

- He left his “original” face at the lighthouse so they would assume that Bill was dead, along with the rest of his family. (Which worked!)

- He slowly started to succumb to Mona’s manipulation, becoming a pet to her. He loved her He had truly thought that someone understood him, but she was just using him as an assistant.

[malarkgirlypop]

Easy Men Pranksters

How easy company men prank

Richard Winters:

I feel like he would do the most unnoticeable prank, like move an item one inch to the side. I'm sure he would think it was funny, he would've seen someone do it on facebook reels lmao. He tries it on Nix, who does not notice. But every time Nix walks into the room, Dick has a good chuckle to himself, knowing what he did.

Lewis Nixon:

He would throw a party and say he put out spiked punch. Turns out is wasn't spiked punch, just normal juice and fruit. He just wanted to weed out the fake bitches who pretend to get drunk. But that's not the true reason he did the prank. No way is he sharing his collection of alcohol, if you want to get drunk BYO.

Harry Welsh:

I think he would try to prank Lew and Dick. When they are hanging out without him, he calls the house and asks if the fridge is running. But jokes on him, he didn't turn off caller ID. "Harry, please stop calling the house. If you want to come over, just come over." Tries to pretend it wasn't him that called. He tried to convince Kitty to prank call the house so he doesn't look suspicious, but again forgot to turn off caller ID and it's his phone she has.

Ronald Speirs:

Leaves a horse head in the persons bed. Doesn't know the difference between a death threat and a prank.

"You should've seen his face."

"Speirs he had a heart attack."

"Yeah, ahaha, classic."

Please don't let this man prank.

Carwood Lipton:

The most harmless prankster. Like you don't get the prank. He has to explain it.

"Come over to the window and look at all these deer!"

"Where?"

"Got you!!"

"What?"

"You've been punked son!"

"I'm confused."

"There were never deer!!"

Oh Lip no. That's so bad. BOOOOO ahahah.

George Luz:

Loves getting pranked more than pranking. But he always is trying to get people to prank him, so he never get tricked. 100% would sneak into your house and replace all of your family photos with just pictures of himself. He has especially gone to JCpenney to get those hilarious awkward family photos, but it's all just him duplicated. It's a family of Luz's!

Joe Toye:

He's a mean prankster. One of those guys who has fake bugs and insects and tricks you into looking at what's in his hands. Also will hide around the house in the dark just to scare you. You're so used to it, that when you come home you have to scope out each room, only to find he actually went out for a drink and you're home alone. You call him and tell him what you have just done for the past hour and he thinks it's the funniest thing he has ever heard. Will definitely brag about it to the boys.

Bill Guarnere:

Classic prankster. Cling wrap on the toilet, cling wrap in the door way, putting everything in jello, wrapping the room in tinfoil. Causes the most mayhem and the biggest clean ups. He spends more time on the prank than the reaction is worth. Spent a whole night putting post it notes on your car, only to find out it was the neighbours and now they are pissed.

Joe Liebgott:

100% buy you those fake lotto tickets and let you believe it for the longest time. He would get Web countless times with it. Every time the man falls for it and Lieb just finds it so funny. He let's Web call all of his family members every time he "wins". It happens so often that the family members on the phone know it's a prank and try to explain it to him.

David Webster:

None of his pranks have ever been successful. OR when he does pull pranks he accidentally gets himself. He does the cling wrap on the toilet, forgets about it, pees all over the ground. Fills a room with water cups, forgets about it and walks into said room and tips over all of the cups. Like this man just can't win. Poor guy.

Buck Compton:

The only prank he does in the warm bucket prank. He is convinced it will work every time. It never does. He literally does tests, he's so invested on getting it to work. It's basically become an experiment for him. He tries out different water temps, different vessels he puts the water in, how deep he puts the hand in the water. He has a little notebooks of each time he has tried the prank and the method he used.

Eugene Roe:

He's a cute prankster. He opens two boxes of cereal and switches the bags. So you think you are getting lucky charms, but instead you get frosted flakes. Gene thinks it is the funniest thing seeing sleepy Babe questioning every thing in existence as frosted flakes appear out of the lucky charms box. Babe still being half asleep just shrugs and tucks into his breakfast. Gene has to explain the prank to him later.

Babe Heffron:

Does the, "oh yeah I put premium air into the tires." To Gene. Gene is losing his mind, thinking babe paid $100 for air. Also has a bunch of fake items, like vomit and dog poo that he gets Gene with all the time. "Gene the cats puked all over the lap top!!" Poor Gene is stressed to the max with Babe lmao.

Don, Skip and Penk:

The trio is trioing. If there is one group that is forever pranking, it's these lot. Whether it's each other or their friends, they are always down for a cheeky prank. Fill a room with ball pit balls, foam, balloons. Breaks into your house and turn it into a full out haunted house. These boys are hard out, it's go big or go home. Nothing is off the table, they will invest life savings into a good prank. Watch your backs they are after you, they will punk you. They seriously talk about starting and producing their own punked series. 100% has a prank youtube channel that blows up.

[princessb4mbi]

MESSAGES I CAN’T SEND

꩜ tags black!reader, therapist!eren, college setting, age gap (reader in 20s, eren in 30s), power dynamic, not so protective sex? mentions of death [not proofread]

꩜ synopsis isn’t it obvious to hide your private life better? or was it not obvious when a video of you dry-humping a pillow was sent to your therapist.

@ word count 3.6k

story below the cut !!

ever since you’ve lost your mother to old age, your mental health has spiraled downwards a little bit. you’ve had the privilege of knowing when she WOULD die and at-least died in a proper place rather than somewhere shitty, so that’s cheered your spirits up a little bit. she was your best friend though, and losing your best friend is painful. you went to her whenever you could, talked on the phone for hours, and slept in her bed every night as if you were still five years old. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

you weren’t the only one suffering though, your childhood friend sasha couldn’t stand watching you wither away. even though she did everything she could, she knew she was capable of oh so much. 

“do you want me to hook you up with my therapist? he’ll seriously help you clear all cloudy thoughts away y/n,” sasha says caressing your cheeks

you move your face away from her hand, “they aren’t cloudy thoughts sas, im just grieving my mother..” 

“i know baby, i know.. but i don’t want to grieve YOU if you die of a heartbreak. i want you to get better, physically and mentally.” sasha looks at me emphatically.

she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts until stopping at a card called “dr.jaeger”. “listen, give him a call please. his prices are cheap and his place is nice. it’s not like those dull white offices with an ugly long chair and a monotone person.” 

you sighed, reluctantly agreeing to her copying and pasting the number to your phone. “okey, i gotta go now babe, but PROMISE me you’ll give him a call, he’ll help you, and if he doesn’t i’ll play for any of your bills ok?” sasha says packing up her stuff. she kisses your cheek before leaving the quiet study area, leaving you alone to your own thoughts. 

you stare at the contact card, pulling dr. jaeger’s name up on your laptop and scrolling through his website. sasha was right about one thing, his prices WERE cheap. about $65 an hour and he also had packages where two weeks of therapy would be about $350 in total.   

the prices however, weren’t enough to convince you fully, as your scroll down to see the reviews.  

“dr. jaeger saved me. after the loss of my wife, i never felt like so lonely, but my daughter told me about him and he’s helped me heal properly and not turn to anything crazy. he’s an amazing person with amazing talents as such a young age. 5 stars” 

ok.. that was something. not that you were going to invalidate them, but that seemed just.. fake. you decided to read another one.

“oh my gosh. no one would believe how amazing someone is at listening and understanding a person’s thoughts. dr. jaeger was nothing like those terrible therapists who make you pay $100 for an shitty hour call. oh how i wished i can say more, but the character limit is fu” 

you giggled at that one. maybe i should give him a call. with a deep breath, you called the number. 

“hello? my name is y/n, i’d like to speak to dr. jaeger please.” 

— 

it’s been about a month since you’ve scheduled a session with dr. jaeger, only having to wait that long due to “heavy traffic”. sasha is currently driving you to the building. 

“you know, i’m really proud of you for calling. i was scared you were going to stay depressed forever.” sasha says over her 80s radio playing. 

“let’s not get too happy yet, he could still be shit at his job..” you say cutting down any happy thoughts. 

“you’re STILL doubting him y/n? i get that some people are money hungry, but i promise you he’s not. if he was, do you think ME of all people would be recommending you to him? i mean c’mon, have some faith please.” 

“i’m sorry, i just nervous ok. my stomach is doing backflips at the moment.” 

“hey man, if you feel like farting, ill park somewhere and you can walk the rest of the way.”

you two pull up to the parking lot, fancy with a modern style front. the office itself if very modern and 2 floored. 

“k, i’m gonna drop you off here, call me when you’re done ok?” 

you walk out of sasha’s car, waving her goodbye while she drives away. you walk into the sleek office, with painting from what you the assume were from the last two centuries. 

the receptionist greets you with a nice smile “welcome, how may i help you today?” you give her your name. “ah i see, you right on time then, ill have this guard guide you to dr. jaeger’s office.” just then, a semi tall man with a black uniform from comes in-front of me. “right this way.” 

he leads me into the elevator, where he then leads me into a hallway with lots of rooms. there’s multiple therapists in this building, all with different ways. as i look through the glass windows, i see pet therapy, group therapy and even massage therapy. the guard finally stops at a door, with a name tag having “DR. JAEGER” on it. “here’s your room, have a nice day.” he says as he’s walking away. you give him a quick thank you and knock on the door. 

a deep “come in.” follows shortly after, and you enter the room. first impression of when you enter the room was that sasha was right. the room was anything from boring, and didn’t have white walls but instead had a mix of brown and auburn. there was lots of old-style decor too. a record player, cd’s and even the tv was kinda old. 

however you were greeted with the most shocking thing of all, dr. jaeger himself. he looked away from his papers, to look at you and gave you a warm smile. his visuals was… something you didn’t expect. most therapist are middle-aged men and women, that are sort-of not the most attractive. but that was ok, because they wanted to help you, not seduce you. dr. jaeger on the other hand was extremely beautiful. he has dark brown hair, put up in a semi-messy bun, the most luscious green eyes, and very kissable pink lips. 

i guess you were admiring his facial features for too long to notice dr. jaeger looking at you weirdly. “maybe un-responsive.” he mutters to himself, typing down on his laptop. upon hearing his words, you apologize and scurried to the seat in-front of him. 

“or not. . . my name is dr. jaeger, if you’ve haven’t gotten a chance to see on the door.” 

“i did, sorry for not responding earlier.” 

“it’s ok, its common for most genders to be shocked at how i look.” dr. jaeger said in a non-concerned voice. you were took aback a little by his comment, most genders to be shocked at how he looked? you were wondering if he was just annoyed at the common occurrence or just knew that he was an attractive man. “pushing that aside,” he sighed “sasha has told me a lot about you.” he says looking up at you. 

“she did?” you question.

“mhm, she cares for you ms….” he looks at the paper look for your last name. 

“y/l/n.” 

“ah, thank you. sasha cares for you ms. y/l/n. she talks about your recovery, and wants you to best happy for her.” he says maintaining eye contact. you can’t respond to such kindness. all you can do is nod your head and smile. 

“but as a therapist view-point, the death of a loved one is one of the hardest battle we have to overcome as a human being. no matter how emotionless a person may be, the death of anything else to them will always cause someone to break. that’s just how we are, we humans . . . after all.” he says empathically. 

“my job isn’t to make you forget your mother, or forget the pain you feel about her. you always feel pain lingering about her, and that’s ok. i’m just here to help you reduce that pain.” 

you were shocked. cheap prices, handsome therapist AND a good one at that? maybe it’s good to stay faithful after all. 

— 

it’s been about 3 weeks since you’ve had daily therapy sessions with mr. jaeger and he’s honestly been helping you a lot. you had different kinds of sessions, like walking around and even some pet therapy. today was for a usual one-on-one walk around the building beautiful outside landscape.

as you and dr. jaeger walk around, you wave to the other clients with their own therapists. “see how social you’ve gotten? when we first came here, you were begging to stay back inside due to all the people,” he jokes around. “now, you’re friendly with them. it’s good progress.” he smiles to himself. 

“it was only because of you, dr. jaeger. i don’t think i’d be the way i am without your help.” 

“ah. . . don’t flatter me too much. let’s sit right here yea?” he says pointing towards the swinging wood benches. “it’s beautiful outside, isn’t it ms. y/l/n?” he turns to look at you. 

“yea, it really is.” you turn back to stare at him. god, you can stare into his eyes for hours. it’s something that about that were so addicting, that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. to break the silence, you decided to follow up with a cheeky comment. “say dr. jaeger, you really know how to keep a client.” he moves his head to the side, confused. “i like to believe that my clients stay with my due to how i help them and not my looks.” ah fuck. it was not received well at all, and you just profusely apologized to him. 

“but, if my looks did make people stay, that wouldn’t be all too bad huh,” he says giving a hearty laugh. “but tell me now, ms y/l/n. does my looks make you stay?” you were at a loss for words. one part of you wanted to say “fuck yes” while another part of you wanted to say “absolutely not”. and you of course went with the latter. 

“whatever your answer is, it doesn’t bother me either way. . . but it looks like our time is up ms. y/l/n.” you look down at your phone for the time. it was up after he exclaimed. the two of you head back to his office to pick you up your stuff. 

that night later, you were chilling in your bed, getting ready to dose off. you however, couldn’t sleep without thinking about a fantasy. it didn’t matter what type, other than it having to be something interesting. you close your eyes, your mind shifting to dr. jaeger, and the moments between you two that drove you insane. like that one time he wore a turtle neck, showing off his clothed six-pack abs. you imagined yourself touching them, feeling the rock-hardness of them. you open your eyes again, looking around the room. to be honest, you haven’t.. you know what, in a while and you thought it might be time to do it again. 

you move your bedsheets closer to the edge to give you more space. and moved all your pillows away except for one. you pulled your phone out and started to record. it might seem weird to other people, but you like to record yourself, in the time that you couldn’t find anything good on twitter or reddit. 

you start to rock your hips back n forth on the pillow, assuming it the body of a male. maybe it was dr. jaeger body you could’ve been assuming it off. either way, it turned you on, seeing how you started to move faster on your pillow. one of your hands grip the pillow, as the other hand massages your boob. you move faster, enjoying the friction your clit is getting between the pillow and your soaked panties. you close your eyes, imagining dr. jaeger guiding your body with his big, veiny hands. as you’re about to climax, you can’t help but subtly whimper his name. 

once you’ve finished, you end the video. while you’re cleaning up, sasha enters the room. “hey girlie, i was thinking of getting some drinks tomorrow night? wanna come?” she says exciting. “i would but i have a session with dr. jaeger tomorrow.” 

“boo, you’re boring.” 

“whatever, i’m going to the shower, so let me know if anything happens ok?” 

“yea yea boring y/n.” 

you go to the bathroom and take off your clothes, hopping inside the shower. you turn on the water, letting the lukewarm water hit your skin. you are alone with your thoughts until sasha comes inside the bathroom. 

“not to be nosey, but dr. jaeger texted you.” she says. 

“mhm really? what did he say?” 

“i didn’t look at it properly, but something about a daily wellness video?” you knew right away. dr. jaeger usual makes his clients make videos of themselves with positive affirmations, then with their consent, he’ll use it on his website for future clientele. 

“ahh ok! just send him the most recent video.” you photo gallery takes forever to update, so there’s a chance it’ll take forever to show the video of your “naughty time”. 

“ok, sending right now… and it’s sent. if he wants a further conversation, i’ll let you know.” 

“thanks sash.” 

as you walk out the steamy bathroom, and get ready for bed, you check your notifications for any new ones. you go into the chat between you and dr. jaeger, seeing if theres anything new. you took a look at the video of your affirmation, seeing the shirt you wore today as the thumbnail. you clicked on it, expecting your face to zoom out, as you were testing the camera quality always. to your shock, you camera didn’t zoom out. but instead was your body moving back and forth on something. your heart dropped. it couldn’t be. you’re praying it wasn’t. you skip some of the video to see if it was truly what you think it was, but the video suddenly changed to a more in-depth shot of you humping the pillow with your panties being in view. 

your heart start to beat faster than usual. you click off the video to delete it right away. dr. jaeger didn’t respond to it, and it said it was ‘delivered.’ you wanted to tell yourself that he hasn’t seen it, and probably watches those videos early in the morning. you weren’t going to stress yourself out though, you were just gonna go to his office per usual, and get counseling per usual.

— 

you take a deep breath and knock at his door, hoping it all ends well. you hear his “come in” but it sounds different from before. his voice went an octave lower. you walk into the room, seeing a more “messy” side of dr. jaeger. at-least he didn’t look at cleaned up as he usually does. his bun was a lot more frizzy from before and he had two buttons undone on his button up shirt. 

maybe he had a rough morning. you think to yourself. “good morning ms. y/l/n. how was your night?” you stopped for a second. such a simple question was something so dangerous to you. “it was fine, dr. jaeger. how about yours?” 

“oh. one of the best i’ve had in a while.” 

“ah. mine was the worst i’ve had in a while.” you mumbled. 

“really? i would’ve assumed you’ve had a very nice night ms. y/l/n.” 

you stare at him confused. what could he mean by that? yea, you fixed your hair a little better than usual, and your eye bags have gone away overtime, but you truly did have a sleepless night yesterday. dr. jaeger gets up from his chair, to lean on his desk, standing in-front of you. he stared down at you with his usually lighter colored eyes now displayed a dark-green. and his pupils were more extended. 

“i don’t know what gives you the impression that i’ve had a nice night dr. jaeger.” 

he bends to to match the height of the chair, and put both of his hands on the rest, restricting me from mounting off of it easily. “let’s cut the crap, y/n. i saw what you sent me.” at this moment, it felt like 100 daggers were suddenly lodged into your chest. 

“i wondered why you asked what you did yesterday. i thought to myself ‘maybe she thought i was attractive’, but i see it was more than that i see,” he says not breaking eye contact. “you see, as a human, we see something we like, and have many kinds of thoughts about it. and i see the thoughts you have towards me are stronger than what i expected.” 

“i’m truly sorry dr. jaeg-“ 

“call me eren, seeing as that is what you called me in the video.” 

“i’m sorry eren, truly. i don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable or hurt this relationship between us.” i say holding back my tears. 

“hurt? uncomfortable? those words are out of the park right now,” he says standing up. “to be honest, tell me why you came today y/n.” 

“to have a therapy session with you.” you meekly say.

“is my looks standing in the way of you healing with the death of your mother?” he says standing behind me. 

“not at all, dr. jae- eren.” 

“so then what provoked you to send me a five minute long video of you fucking yourself to a pillow in the imagination that it’s me?” you were at a loss for words. he was right. your heart sank as his word dug deeper into you. and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. you started to quietly sob, feeling large hands down your shoulders. you feel a hot breath near your eyes chill down your spine. “don’t cry, not in this manner at least,” he says in your ear. 

“cry because you can’t handle it, y/n.” 

you stopped and turned to look at him. he had a devilish grin on his face. “handle what?” you say, not catching his gist. 

“you’ll find out soon enough.”

eren lifts you up by the arm and spins you around to face him completely. you didn’t know what was going on, but you didn’t want to push away. your faces was a mere 4 inches away from each other. “can i? y/n. . . can i give you what you want?” 

you look at his eyes then his lips then his eyes again. fuck it, you nod your head and eren kisses you passionately. he stops kissing you for a moment to push the chairs aside. you look at his desk to see his usually messy papers cleaned up to the side. he planned this probably . . . eren picks you up and places you on his desk. 

he places a hand on your chin, rubbing it gently. “open it baby,” he says as his kisses you again, but placing his tongue all over the inside of your mouth. his hands tug on the bottom of your shirt, signaling for it to be removed. in between each kiss, you both take off a piece of clothing until you up to your undergarments. eren slips his large hand under your breast, fondling with it while he leaves wet hickeys on your neck. with the other hand he unclasps the bra, throwing it the ground. he kisses you again, muttering “nice tits”.

you pull at the band of his underwear, “want you in me ren’.” you whine. “patience baby.” eren says sliding your panties off to the floor. 

“are you on any pills by any chance?”, he says rubbing ur slick all over your cunt. “m-mhm ren.’”

“good. so i don’t have to hold back.” 

eren slips his underwear off, revealing his long, veiny and girthy dick. you want to guess it’s around 6-7 inches, but it was gonna tear you up regardless. he strokes his dick, ‘lubing’ it up with his pre-cum. he inches closer to you, having his dick and your hole just one insert away from each other. you open your legs wider and lay down on his desk, giving him more access to yourself. “didn’t even have to ask.” eren said.

he teases the tip of his dick on your clit. your whole body tingles in response, arching your back off the cold desk. “please ren’…” you beg, desperately wanting his dick buried into you. “please fuck me eren.” 

“as you wish.” with that, eren aligns himself with your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. the both of you moan simultaneously from the pleasure you both felt. eren starts to push his hips back and forth into you, keeping a firm grip on your waist. eren keeps a nice pace, making sure to satisfy both sides. suddenly, eren lifts your legs, wrapping them around his waist. you jolted from the tingle he gave you. you were trying to conceal your moans, but every time it was getting louder than usual, eren made sure put his hand over your mouth.

eren’s pace starts to unstable, moving fast at times and then slowing down to grind himself on you. you can tell he was close to his climax, seeing how desperate and shaky thrusts were. 

“‘m so close baby. . .” he grunts. 

“‘ren please! mhm.” you whine, begging him to release. 

“at the same time? what a good girl..” he barely breathes out. 

eren picks you up by the waist to pull you closer to him. there wasn’t enough space between you too, but he didn’t care. eren grinds his dick into you, feeling his dick throb in your walls. then, you feel a warm liquid pour inside of you, while at the same time cry out from your orgasm. 

[verdemoun]

With your post about the vacations it made me realize smth. If they respawn where they died which ones of them went to Mexico and how did they get his ass over the border (assuming they don't just spawn in with ready to go documents). Does all the gang members have to go and register their existence at some point or another? Dear god they probably all seem like they were born in a cult or something

All the gang have had to forge an identity, which fortunately Bessie has gotten very good at over the years as the first to timewarp.

Birth years are easy because they just add 100 to their actual birth year - except half the gang don't actually know when they were born, let alone the date.

Most just choose a date that means something to them eg. Hosea's anniversary, the date they joined the gang, the date they died if it was published, international horse birthday (Kieran) or a cool number pattern) and guess a birth year based on their actual age

Yes, the professionals in their lives like doctors, lawyers and psychologists all think they escaped a cult, especially as more start turning up and Bessie drags them into the necessary offices increasingly shortly after their timewarp to get their documents created with elaborate backstories.

Bessie increasingly regrets not saying yes it was a cult as time goes on because keeping track of their backstories is v hard. There's only so many times they can say the originals were lost in a fire.

Hosea was very proud of his last great con to smuggle Bill and Javier into America. Namely, he made Arthur and Sean sit in the back of the rv in costumes and cross into Mexico pretending to be Bill and Javier with fake us citizen documents and then hide under the very shoddily made beds so there was no written evidence of Arthur and Sean crossing the border and Bill and Javier were 'returning' to America. Bessie was mortified the entire time and convinced they were going to jail.

[starkidlabs]

For anyone on the Gravity Falls website type in ‘PlatinumPaz’ into the computer for the story of how Bill nearly convinced Pacifica to make a deal with him.

Story below 👇

Pacifica stormed into her palatial bedroom and slammed the door so hard her chandeliers shook. (There were at least 3 chandeliers in Pacifica’s room, including a teensy chandelier over her nightlight.) She buried her head in a velvet pillow and screamed for an inhumanly long time, then flopped over and stewed at the painted cherubs on her ceiling. It wasn’t FAIR. After everything she did for her parents- get up at 5 for fencing lessons, beauty pageants, fox-hunting, butler-hunting, cleaning up the black feathers after dads weird “grown up masquerade parties”- THIS is how they repay her? HER! PACIFICA ELISE NORTHWEST?!

It had been a rough summer for Pacifica- first she came alarmingly close to losing a Party Crown, then her golf skills were called into question, and now her parents grounded her for literally saving the entire family from a Category 10 ghost and shut off the spigot on her caviar tap for rest of the year. What was she supposed to eat now? Dog Food? She angrily opened her mini-fridge and pulled out an UpperCrustablesTM brand snack pack and angrily spread the caviar on the tiny baguette. “Ugh, why does it come with this dumb little stick? The caviar always gets stuck in the CORNERS!”

She looked at a napkin where Dipper had written the shack’s phone number in case killing the ghost might have created a “double ghost.” Ha! As if she would put HIS number in HER phone.

Everything in her life used to make so much more sense before those PINES twins came along and screwed everything up. That stupid Mabel and her baffling, undeserved confidence. That know-it-all sweat stain Dipper who’s giant head was always butting against hers. Something about Dipper’s words had knocked over a domino in her mind that started a chain reaction that was causing her whole identity to come crashing down. He told her she had potential to change into…a better person? How do you become a better person when you’re already the best person?

It didn’t make sense!

Thinking about it exhausted her, and soon, her eyelids began to droop.

Soon she was...

she was...

Zzzz...

In Pacifica’s dream, she was freshening up at a party washing her hands when she noticed something...

red

swirling in the drain.

In horror, she discovered her hands were covered in blood, and no matter how hard she scrubbed them, they wouldn’t come clean. On the mirror, words slowly started two write themselves on their own, as if by an invisible hand…

BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS

“NO, NO, IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

An overpowering sense of guilt swelled inside as she fled to the ballroom for help, where she spotted her friends gossiping by a tapestry. She tried to flip them around, but when she grabbed their shoulders, they fell over, flat, They were... cardboard? She turned to her parents, and they fell over flat too. The entire party was filled with flat, 2D people, everyone was fake. Blood began to fill the ballroom, pouring from the clock, from the paintings, from the ceiling. Why was this happening?! She raced through her manor in a blind panic, when she discovered she was no longer in the mansion, but outside in Gravity Falls. When she looked down, she realized she was now 100 feet tall, and every step she made was wrecking the town. She knocked over the mudflap factory, polluting the river. She knocked over the orphanage, sending coughing soot-covered children out into the cold.

She kept apologizing, but she was too big, too public, every step hurting more and more people. Everyone could see that the town’s problems were her fault. She was a monster. She always had been. She always would be.

Pacifica started sobbing and suddenly, she was a little girl again, hiding behind the vine-covered tombstones in the graveyard behind the Manor after another one of her parents fights. The graves of her ancestors loomed above her like gargoyles, great Northwests in history. What would they say if they could see her like this?

One of the statues slowly turned to face Pacifica. It was Nathaniel Northwest.

“Get a hold of yourself. You’re a Northwest, people can’t know you leak shame-water.”

“You’re right,” Pacifica apologized, and hastily took out her compact to clean her smeared makeup. She cursed as she saw how dishevelled she was.

The statue watched her like a cat hungrily watching a mouse.

“You have a lot of anger, don’t you.”

“Anyone whose not angry is an idiot. There’s so much to be mad about.”

“Yes. Anger is good. Anger is useful. Who are you angry at, Pacifica?”

“Everything was better before the PINES came to town...”

“You know, I might be able to help with that... there’s something I want. The Mystery Shack is going to be getting some new merchandise very soon. A small snow globe, nothing anyone would miss. If you could shoplift it for me, I could guarantee things would change. You’d never deal with the Pines again...”

Pacifica closed her compact. Would that fix everything?

“It would be so easy... all you have to do to get your old life back is shake...my...hand”

The statue extended its stony hand. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Slowly she reached out to shake- then abruptly stopped. Something was off.

“My old life... wasn’t really mine, was it? All I ever did was follow my mom and dad. Maybe... it would be better to...make a new one.”

The STATUE BELLOWED with RAGE.

“MAKE? HA! YOU INHERIT. YOUR FAMILY LEGACY IS ALL YOU’RE WORTH. YOU MAKE NOTHING.

YOU CAN’T EVEN MAKE FRIENDS.”

This had always been true... in the past.

His hand extended toward her. Looming. Trembling.

She remembered a time when a hand extended toward her, offering a free snack in the back seat of a car.

“MAKE THE DEAL YOU LITTLE FAKE BLONDE IMPENDING PATERNITY TEST”

Pacifica’s face relaxed.

She knew it was cliché, but she knew she had to do it.

She slowly extended her hand.

Just as the giant lichen-covered hand was about to close around hers like a cage of stone fingers, she swung her arm up and behind her head.

“Sike.”

“WHAT?!”

“Too slow!”

“YOU WORM!!!! YOU WORTHLESS WASTE OF STOLEN INCOME!!!! YOU’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING. I SEE A FUTURE WHERE YOU’RE PENNILESS, WORKING AT THE DINER, YOU’LL HAVE NOTHING, YOU-”

The statue shook with rage, sending cracks from its hand all the way up to its shrieking head.

It crumbled apart in front of her, screaming in pain.

GONG!

Pacifica awoke with a start, panting. The clock in the hallway had struck 3 AM. She was covered in sweat. What had she been dreaming about? She couldn’t remember.

She didn’t want to remember.

She wasn’t quite sure why, but she removed a tapestry that she’d always had on her wall. Something her family had no doubt looted ages ago- of a glowing triangle over the mountains. She rolled it up and put it in the closet and locked the padlock. Maybe she should hold onto Dipper’s number just in case. She entered it into her phone and felt an odd sense of calm suddenly wash over her.

It was quiet once again in Northwest Manor.

Pacifica slept better than she had in years.

The end of the story has a hidden message. “STAY AWAY FROM HER CIPHER. SHE HAS THE PROTECTION OF THE LUMBERFOLKS SPIRITS.’

[manwiththemagic]

spn s1 ep3 "Dead in the water"

more rewatch notes/commentary I have while watching!! :9

Ew Wisconsin okay...

“guys don't like buff girls.” WHO ASKED?? dumbahh person of the week. I don't even REMEMBER this episode and honestly, I blame you pal. I. Blame. You.

“be careful.” Okay so she's going to die then.

I wish I lived on a lake :(((

HELP THE SLOWMO... uhhh rip girl?? Ig..

Why does Dean look actually insane. He has like 100 newspapers, and his scribbling out faces and circling others 😭😭 i'd call the cops tbh..

Episode three, and second chick we see hitting on dean. It's just bc of his long eyelashes I bet.

LMAO “can I... get you anything else? 😏” “just the check please ☺️” LOVE YOU SAM.

The way dean immediately gives up trying to convince Sam about hookups bc lil bro is still distraught about jess. Like yeah... no way is a hookup gonna seem "fun" to a grieving man

The side eye Sam gives dean when he's telling him about how the people had a funeral for a missing person.

“a funeral?” “yeah for closure or whatever” “closure? What closure. People don't just disappear Dean, others just stop looking for them.” WOAH NELLY... I get it. Bro wants to find dad, dad to find monster, monster to be KKKKKKKKKILLED‼️

vaild.

Okay so Sam is tweaking because he wants to find John, and Dean is— NO WAY HE JUST SAID THAT. “im sick of the attitude.” DAD DEAN CHAT!! also no way he pulled the "I've been with him everyday for the past two years while you were off at school—" BRO.

Great more depressed. old. MEN.

does the loch ness monster exist?

Oh shoot broke dam!! More like... Dam I'm BROKE!!

Dean being good with kids part 1!! Also this is why I have a hard time believing he's so bad with Jack like... LOOK ST THIS.

Dean and his 3 woman in three episodes.

“must be hard with your sense of direction.. trying to find your way to a decent pickup line.” HEYOOOOO!! she ate that.

“‘i love kids’?? You don't even like kids.” “yes I do!” “name 3 kids that you even know.” LMAO NOT SAM GATEKEEPING KIDS LIKE ITS AN INDIE BAND!!! also yes he likes kids, he literally raised you Sam wtfdym?

Wait so late monsters do exist?? THE LOCH NESS IS CANON?? just not here..? Damn I thought since bigfoot was fake that would be too.

I'm pretty sure it's some ghost chick.

Yikes more dead...

“no wonder that kid was so freaked out, watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over..” DEAN :((( I always forget he watched Mary die, cause like Sam too, he just doesn't remember it.

Dean is so good with kids :(((

STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE.

“when I was your age I saw something... anyways..” FUCK.

DWAHHH LUCAS TAKING THE PICTURE DEAN DREW ☹️

AWH HE GAVE DEAN A PICTURE!! they made a connection.

Oh shoot.. that man is so dead. “im gonna make some dinner”

OH SHIT ITS IN THE PIPES

your dead kid. D E A D. IDC tho you ain't Lucas

Ew don't dig in the dirty water. HOLY SHIT HE DROWBING. HE DROWBNIN

Damn.. and in dirty water. I could never.

Bill Carlton is cooked. Literally everyone he knows is dead now.. like damn. Wtf did he DO.

“my children are gone..its worse than dying..” MORE SAD OLD MEN OMFG.

Lucas drawing is important!!

Why don't these people ever be like “yea.. serial killer man..” LIKE A BELIEVABLE BUT STILL CRAZY LIE. "Why the FBI here?" "Serial killer." ITS THAT EASY.

Dean getting help from a kid AHHHHHHHH!!

“your... scared..? I understand.. you see when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too.. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see my mom.. I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day.” FUCK. JUST TEAR AT MY HEART STRINGS THEN DEAN. “and I do my best to be brave.. and maybe your dad wants you to be brave too.”

LUCAS YOU THE GOAT!!!

so now they are looking for the house Lucas drew and Dean like "man where tf is it?" And Sam's like "uh.. maybe let's look for the church?"

“ohhh collage boy thinks he's so smart!!” Dean the goat of this episode

Sam twitching because he doesn't know if or how he should bring up deans speech. Honestly now that I think about it Sam digs into deans personal stuff alot, mostly because Dean is jaded and hides stuff but IDK it's interesting.

“oh God we're not gonna have to hug or anything are we?” like you wouldn't enjoy that..

The churchhhhh

OMG THE BIKE. IT WAS BIG IN A DIFF DRAWING AND HERE IT IS AGAIN. omg wait it is important.

He's missing.. the kid with the bike.

HOLY COW. all the parents talking about how losing a kid is worse than death, and hey I know what canonically happens in death and uhh, idk if your right about that. Hell? eck.. ghost life?? yikes.. heaven? good but.. mehh...

Rip lil kid. Rip

HE KNEW BILLY. holy cow. Dead kid knew billy. Billy Carlton knows something is going on?? WAIT WHATS HAPOENING.

So wait is the dead kid the ghost..?

HOLY COW THAT BOAT FLEWWWW!!

Lucas having another vision??.. OH SHIT YEA THE GHOST GIES AFTER HIS MOM OR SMTH RIGHT??

THIRD TIME GETTING CAUGHT LMAOOO. “and your not really wildlife service..” HELP.

this cop made sus. Why you so mad these guys are investigating a murder?? They weird but like..

LUCAS KNOWSSSS..

This is kinda like a call forward or uhh foreshadowing to Sam's visions, which is kinda dope

LADY DON'T TAKE THAT BATH. NOT JUST CAUSE I DONT WANNA SEE YOU NAKED..

deans going back to town even after being threaten because lil kid was scared. GOAT. the goat I tell you.

“who are you and what have you done with my brother??” it's really not out of character for him Sam😭

DON'T TAKE THAT BATH LADY. YOUR DEAD. DOOMED.

oh whatever. I give up. EW MURKY WATER. CAN'T YOU FEEL IT LADY.

poor lucas.. lil bro bouta become an orphan.

LMAO DEAN THREW LUCAS OUTTA THE WAY. and Sam actually saved her 🤷

So wtf is after them. I DON'T REMEMBER.

Oh shoot puppy dog eyes Sam is back. “tell me what happened. Everything. 🥺”

More Lucas visions..

THEY FOUND THE BODY. or no? THE BIKE.

THE SHERIFF DID WHAT NOW.

No dead ghost Peter LEAVE LUCAS ALONEE!!

oh shit he did kill someone.

OH SHIT.

YOU WERE A BULLY?? EE. I HATE YOU. YOU KULLED HOM?? WTF.

dude no your daughter should stay away from you you freak.

LUCAS IS DROWNING.

Mermaid Dean 🧜

Sacrifice yourself for Lucas? Valid sheriff. Valid.

WOOO ITS OVERRRR!! MYSTERY SSSSOLVED!!

AW LUCAS IS TALKING AGAINNN!!

Dean teaching random kid his morals and tastes in music LMAO.

dean pulls yet NAOTHER woman. Are you fr?

One of my least favorite episodes tbh..

[alex-rambles]

Hey I was wondering if I could request headcanons{Yandere Bill} where the reader is full on convinced that they’re just imagining things and they 100% believe that Bill doesn’t really exist and it’s just their mind playing tricks on them? Like they straight up refuse to believe his existence.

-It pisses him off, but he can be somewhat understanding

-He is stuck in mindscape land after all

-Humans like to play off things they don't understand or don't want to believe as their "imagination"

-He'll just up the extremes

-Actually, he might use your thinking he's not real to his advantage

-If you're convinced nothing will actually happen, it may be that much easier to get you to shake his hand and seize the reigns of your body

-How could you think he's fake if he just possessed you?

-Although if that doesn't work, you'll have to acknowledge him once Weirdmaggedon is up and running, so ha!

-If you're not in Gravity Falls though his whole shagig failed

-The outcome really just depends

[mothmags]

More Neil Heartfillia because I'm thinking about him and his main ref mainly talks about his magic type.

He would 100% have a tik tok account where they have a slideshow and just say wrong information on black and white photos and put a creepy audio

He also has a fake "certified" Twitter account where he pretends to be a flat earther journalist

Half of his following can see it's very obviously fake and is amused and the other half 100% believes him

He is THE band kid of fairy tail

I said this before, but he's mainly a loner that has a solid 1 close friend

Nashi is a little shit to people on a personal level. Neil is just chronically online teenage boy with too much time on his hands

Lumi convinces him to post some of his music on spotify and he has absolutely no branding

His name is something stupid like "gaylord9000" and has somehow over a million streams

His only advertising is that lumi will use him as background music sometimes, and literally, that's it

Each album so far is a different genre and they vary WILDLY

He would also make like the most profound music that frequently brings people to tears over how personal and heartwrenching it is, and he would name it "Sierra mist was better than Starry and you can fight me about it", "Anime tits on a tuesday" or "stream this I want to buy a new bass"

No one knows it's him tho exept for a select few (Nashi, Lumi, and his friend that I didnt give a name to yet)

Most of his income is from this account and his occasional jobs

He lives with his parents still so he doesn't pay rent or bills or anything. All of his money goes to another instrument he doesn't need but wants very bad or to his savings

He might be a little shit but he cares a lot about the people around him

When someone is upset he notices and beckons them over to his little music corner of the guildhall

He doesn't ask them about said problem, nono he doesn't like being in people's business but he will play them music that he knows they like and make an illusion that he knows will calm them down

Sometimes they tell him what's wrong but he barely gives them advice

Hes just there to listen and make sure they are ok and they appreciate that

His love language is gift giving and will occasionally gives the people he likes a little trinket

He will just take their hand, put the gift in it and walk away

That's how you know he likes you

He gave gajeel a metal gutar pick he found on the ground when he was like 4 and he put it on a chain and still wears it under his shirt to this day

[textingaboutprometheus]

There a lot of racists in this country but if you really believe every single trump voter is a racist and voted based on only that, then we will not agree ever and there’s no point continuing the discussion.

Trump made huge gains with Latinos and black Americans talking about jobs and cultural issues. Are they racist too? Is everybody racist? Construction companies openly pay less to immigrants, so working class Americans lost the few jobs still available for them in our country. Is this racist? Maybe, just maybe, if democrats had dedicated their time in the last few decades making sure we had functional unions available to all, companies would have to pay the same good salary to everyone equally and there would not be a financial advantage in hiring desperate people and letting Americans with nothing.

Full employment? Where? Paying how much? Do people here understand there is a fucking huge country between cities and the coasts? Listen to our moderator here, she makes less than $24K! A big majority of our country makes very little money and has to really hustle to survive and pay bills and take care of their family. Yes, some are able to see the forest through the trees and understand republicans suck and don’t care about them at all (kudos to you TP), but many more don’t, they are too worried trying to make their meagre salary pay for groceries and THEY FUCKING VOTE.

This attitude pisses me off so much, because I WAS PERSONALLY working to elect Kamala. Not online, not behind my computer, in person, talking to people with little money and almost no hope. Non-paid work, every single day. And it’s fucking hard to convince people to give a chance to somebody who they saw as a incumbent, part of a government that didn’t do anything against inflation, and that believes we should bring more people in, that this same government is on their side. I’m not saying I agree with it, but I have to ask, how many people reading here really went out to red or purple areas once in their lives and talked and really listened to real people.

I will say again, racism, sexism, religion, hate, whatever exists and is the base of Trump party. These people are not enough to elect him, and I will die on this hill. Democrats need to leave their cities and coast, stop watching Maddox and never read Twitter again and GO TO THE swing states every fucking day and week and year and listen to what the people are complaining about, and find solutions to those problems that are still within the democrat umbrella, but offer solutions to THEIR problems, not Twitter fake issues.

And let’s stop with the gaslighting that cultural issues are racist when one example I’m talking about is trans issues that became mainstream ONLY when impacted trans WHITE PRIVILEGED woman. Give me a break.

Sorry TP, but I’m really upset with the worst D loss in many decades and their reaction of blaming everybody else but them.

And by the way, I’m very disappointed with PSA, they should have a pod last night, even if a short one. Are we all fighting this together or not?

I agree with everything you said. They should have had a pod last night. I 100% agree. I don't know why they didn't. Its worrisome. But maybe they'll explain it today when they record.

It's almost 7 am and I got out of my bed. So progressive? Next step breakfast. Then I'm gonna drown myself into films until the guys release a pod late in the fucking afternoon because they have to do everything on pacific time.

Does anyone know how to get money out of investments without tax penalties? I wouldn't have invested so much of my money from my dad if I thought in a million years this would happen.

[jim-fetter-illustrations]

The more people we tell to FUCK-OFF the less scams in the world!

The way things are today, more and more do we confront Hoaxes, Frauds, Scams, Hoodwinks, Fake news, and a variety of other ways for people to separate others from their money and votes,...... we need to tell more people to just FUCK-OFF, because that seems to be the only language they understand that tells them we are not going to play their deceitful game....

Ya see, Most spam comes from companies that have purchased your details from reputable companies that sell details about millions to anyone who asks to purchase them,...... YOUR details are a commodity today, so others can try to trick you into a variety of purchases you can be billed for, and all you have to say is YES!

For instance "Am I speaking to (they say your name) and they know damn well why you are, but once you say YES that's me, then your a sell for anything from medicare products they bill medicare for or dozens of other products they know your elidable to receive on you medical program,............ even if you say I'M NOT INTERESTED, you've already said YES on their recording, so their ass is covered to process your scam and charge whomever will pay.

............... and 96% of people scammed do not report it or try to undo the scam because it takes time and effort and even some money to undo, so medicare is milked by not only American companies that are scamming it, but many foreign countries that hate America.

Making it difficult to undo is why scammers do it, because it's a billion dollar industry, YOUR BILLION DOLLARS IN YOYR TAX MONEY is what's used to pay all those fraudulent bills.

I had a scammer call me to offer free COVID tests because I was diabetic....... "We will send you three free tests to protect yourself" they said, so I thought what the hell, it's free.

Since 2021 I have received about 100 freed COVID test kits with 3 tests in each box, they kept coming every 3 months, I was handing them out to friends, anyone who wanted one, and it costs medicare $20 pre test kit box (and i got around 100 boxes).

How one company figured I would need to test myself every week and then convince medicare that was a legitimate claim is beyond me.

I did the due diligence and called medicare to complain about this scam to no avail, kept getting transferred to another representative after another, to pass the buck so-to-say, and no one wanted to help me stop this obvious scam after 4 hours on the phone.

So I just kept giving them out to anyone who wanted one.

I think I still got 8 boxes in my medicine cabinet that I will probably never use.

Ever since that scam, I tell people who aks if they are speaking to me to FUCK-OFF, then hang up.

Haven't had a scam since, I think I'm on the Nut List of people not to bother calling which suites me just fine.................

[scarpervonhyde]

I think part of the dissonance comes from the severe whiplash on how characters are represented in the pages.

"Oh, you shouldn't listen to the warning in the beginning of the book because Stanford pushed away his friends!"

Which came immediately after the pages about Krampus and Fiddleford’s gifts just to rub that 'fact' in.

And how Bill is represented in those pages as an all powerful and dangerous being who can posses a hoard of the undead all at once and also manipulate your mind. But he's also, "Oh so willing to talk" through postit notes and photographs that frankly would require another pair of hands to take, so either he had someone assisting him or they're faked.

If the pages are fake, it explains quiet a bit.

But the thing that had me convinced that the pages are, if not entirely fabricated at least heavily edited, is the Cipher Speaks page. Because shouldn't that page be in Journal 2, not in Journal 3? After all, if it had only been a year since he had met Bill, he still would have been working on the second, not the third.

Besides, the first page in Journal 3 is dated June 18, and the one with the rats and mindscape karaoke was dated June 15th. And there's not pages between "Vol. 3" and that page. There's literally no room for it. And since he was already calling Bill his muse by that point, that would have to be pages from a previous Journal or fabricated pages. And since there wasn't a full year's worth of dates in Journal 3... that would have to be where they came from. If they came from anywhere at all other than Bill.

Eh, I'm 100% convinced they're fake, I'm working on Exorcist Rules.

"Especially important is the warning to avoid conversations with the demon. We may ask what is relevant but anything beyond that is dangerous. He is a liar. The demon is a liar. He will lie to confuse us. But he will also mix lies with the truth to attack us. The attack is psychological, Damien, and powerful. So don't listen to him. Remember that - do not listen."

-Father Merrin (The Exorcist)

I deleted that last post because frankly I got embarrassed. But ultimately, I really would like to know if the new journal pages are suspicious on purpose.

Them being fake pages made by Bill is a theory I believe quite heavily in, and in my opinion there's a decent amount of evidence for it. It feels percentage-wise very few people agree. But I guess I just want to say, it's not that I'm just out here grasping at straws to discount a book I didn't like. What we know Ford to be like, what we know Bill to be like, and most importantly what we know journal 3 to be like, those are what the theory is driven by.

When I first looked at TBOB for myself, I got to the second page of the journal pages and the perception that I was reading pages written by Ford himself was shattered instantly. It was not repaired through the entire rest of the pages. When I was sitting around at work later, the next day after I had finished reading, I was struck in my mind by a bit in Ford's final message. "He's making it all up as he goes along." I know people have different readings of the meaning of that line, but for me that's what made me feel like maybe there's something to all this.

Suddenly it wasn't just "This book sounds nothing like Ford..." But rather "Maybe this book sounds nothing like Ford... because it isn't supposed to." And I started realizing stuff. Like "Hey... wasn't Ford drawn super incorrectly here?", or "Could this part really have happened?", or "Does this page make sense to even exist?". "What is it that creates such a strong sense of dissonance to these pages?" I have kept digging into more and more of what felt wrong ever since.

If you read through them without feeling like anything was off, or if there was it wasn't something you felt to be important, it makes sense my theory would not be for you.

But I believe in it.

And if I had my own chance to ask Alex, I would.

[cafeinthemoon]

Don't Leave Home - Chapter I

Chapter 1/?

Wordcount 2k

Title Job Opportunity

Fandom Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing Toji Fushiguro X reader

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warning (s) none

N. A. Yeah, my first Toji fic ever! I'm so excited!! Actually, this is not the first idea I had for a story with him, but it is the easier one to work on, so I chose to write it first. I know that babysitter!reader and baby!Megumi is nothing new, but I'm self indulging here, so forgive me for not bringing something 100% original okay lol

Anyways I hope you enjoy it :)

The bills have been piling up upon your table as if they had a life of themselves, and a headache came up every time you looked at them. You were just fired from you last job and had low expectations on getting a new one in little time, especially when you were not as experienced in that area and had your time reduced because of your studies. You loved what you were learning there and didn’t want to quit, but you were running out of money and if this situation didn’t change, soon you would be forced to leave this passion aside.

Only a miracle would save you now, but unfortunately you didn’t believe in miracles, at least not as much as you believed in bizarre coincidences...

Just like the one you faced that night, when you were lying on your bed with your notebook, scrolling through the hundredth site you sent your resume to with no hope to find something reasonable, until your eyes widened in front of that advertisement: a babysitter was needed, not so far from your place and with weekly payment.

You thought of that and raised an eyebrow: receiving money every week was tempting, but your own experience as a former babysitter wouldn’t let you forget how tiring was to take care of children, and you weren’t willing to go back to this kind of work. But you were running out of options, so that you tossed your pride aside and decided that this job would be yours.

As you’ve re-read it to analyze the available information, you couldn’t help thinking that the advertisement was so concise that it became mysterious: the only concrete things it contained concerning the child themselves was that they were a boy and was less than one year old; apart from that, there was the name of a man, an address and a phone number. You took note of everything and left it beside your bed to call him the next morning.

***

You checked the phone number more times that you could count to convince yourself that you didn’t type it wrongly, but it didn’t work: you tried to call it two, three, ten times, but no one would answer it. At first you thought it was too early and decided to wait until one or two hours passed and tried again, but the result was the same.

You sighed. It was too good to be true. You were about to give up when you remembered the address along with the number. You checked it, and since you didn’t have any appointments for that day, you picked up your bag and went out to find it.

***

Only when you were in front of the house, pressing the door bell, you started to consider the risk of your decision: you were at a neighborhood where you didn’t know anyone, alone, knocking on an unknown person’s door because of an advertisement with high probability of being fake. The house’s resident was taking too long to answer the door and everything were silent around there; your nervousness was growing as the seconds passed.

You were thinking that the worst thing that could happen now was to have a person actually opening the door and revealing that everything was a prank when you heard the handle being turned and held your breath. So, there was someone living there. Now you just had to wait for their revelation.

When the door was opened, you took a step back, more because of who you found behind it than because of any prank that might have been prepared for you, for the man you saw there could be everything but not the type to make that kind of thing.

He opened the door wide, showing off the corridor behind it, and leaned on its frame, arms crossed, waiting for you to explain the reason for your visit. That attitude, you thought, would be seen as petulance if it came from any other person, but not from of that tall, serious guy dressed in a black leather jacket, with his dark hair with almost three months of uninterrupted growth, a scar on the right corner of his mouth and the lack of concern or surprise in his green eyes while measuring what he had before him, making you hold your breath.

If just one minute before you thought you were a victim of a joke, now you were convinced that you came to the wrong address. You were about to tell this to the man and apologize for your intromission, but you stopped with the harsh laugh he gave before you could open your mouth.

- If you’re here because of the babysitter thing, you’re at the right place, darling – and speaking more to himself than to you – I’m surprised that someone really answered that ad… Guess I’m lucky that you came so early, anyway.

You didn’t know if you should be relieved to find out the job opportunity wasn’t a lie or worried because that man was the responsible for it. Before he invited you in, you pulled the note from your bag in an instinct.

- So... you are Toji Fushiguro, Sir? – you asked without taking your eyes from the paper.

- Yes, that’s me. But cut the “Sir” thing. And what’s your name?

You told him your name and surname.

- So, y/n... you have any experience in this type of work?

Yes, you had.

- With children under one year?

Yes, except with newborns.

- Can you work in the afternoon?

Again, yes. You used to study in the morning, so your afternoons were always free.

- Do you need to take train or bus to come and go?

- Just the train.

- Hm. Good. You’re hired – Toji straightened up and uncrossed his arms, then indicated the house’s interior with a gesture of his head – Come in. The baby is waiting for you.

You entered right after him, not able to hide all your hesitation while he closed the door at your back, so that you compensated it with all the good manners you had. You took off your shoes and left it on the corner, alongside other pairs, and murmured an “Excuse me” before following him.

As you crossed the short corridor and became familiar with the inner side of the house, your apprehension diminished: here and there, on the floor or upon the furniture, you saw some toys and stuffed animals, and even a pair of tiny, blue shoes on the top of a small table, the undoubted signs that a child lived there, things that you learned to identify in other houses where you worked at. It was a bit messy, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate when you remembered some of the places where you have been; this mess was understandable, though: while the proof of the kid’s presence was all over the place, there was nothing that indicated that a partner shared that space with his father and worried about that, giving him the privilege of just focus on his outside responsibilities. Well, even without a spouse to help him, that father seemed to do it anyway, but the absence of someone to manage the intern work was taking its toll, and that was where you came in.

At some point, Toji turned to his right and entered what you found out to be the living room, stopping at the side of the entry and leaning on the wall in a similar manner as before, his hands in his pockets. You entered the space right after him and saw your worries go away when you finally put your eyes on the baby.

The little boy, dressed in blue overalls and with white socks on his tiny feet, was sitting on the sofa paying attention to the plushie on his lap. He stared at you with a pair of curious green eyes as soon as you arrived, however he didn’t make any of the typical signs of children at that age when they met new people; you used to see this quietness in kids who lived with non-talkative parents or who had no siblings, and as far as you could see both situations applied to him.

You turned to Toji.

- What’s his name?

- Megumi.

You raised an eyebrow, but said nothing: that was not a name you expected to be chosen for a boy. Still, it fitted him, you didn’t know why.

- How old is he exactly?

- Seven months old. His birthday is in December.

The strangeness of the whole situation didn’t intimidate you: you walked toward the sofa and knelt before the boy, who followed every movement, and started talking to him.

- Hi, Megumi-chan – you whispered, offering him your palm – You’re such a pretty boy! I’m so happy to meet you!

Judging by his quiet manners, you weren’t even expecting Megumi to put his tiny hand upon yours as other children have done when you introduced yourself to them, so what he did in response to your gesture was just shocking: forgetting the plushie, he stretched his little arms to you, as if you were about to take him in your arms, and babbled a “ma-ma” with a soft, questioning tone.

You swallowed. You couldn’t let him thinking you were his mother, but you also didn’t want to break his trust right in your first meeting, so you had no choice but to do what he was expecting: putting the toy aside, you took Megumi with you and stood up. He didn’t cry or complain for being picked up by a stranger, which suggested that he was used to such procedure, something that you particularly didn’t approve.

Right when you took him, you sensed a smell of soap and powder, and his soft hair, as dark as his father’s, was brushed and smelled clean as well. Part of you felt glad for his good conditions, but you couldn’t ignore what just happened, so you turned to his father and demanded an explanation about the mama thing. The man just smiled and shrugged as if the scene he just witnessed was nothing but normal.

- He always reacts like this when he sees women with this hair color – he pulled his left hand out of the pocket and raised a finger to you, lowering it right after.

By that time you’ve been dyeing your hair dark, almost black, in a shade not so different from those two. Megumi was quiet, paying attention to your conversation, his eyes alternating between you and his father, one of his hands touching your locks as you spoke, as to confirm what Toji said about your hair. You looked at him and felt a lump in your throat: what kind of method was that, to not teach a child how to distinguish his own mother from other women?

You took all the politeness you had in you and used it in your next words to his father.

- And you never correct him, Toji-san?

He clicked his tongue.

- Why would I do that? – and with a smirk that twisted the scar on his mouth – Women find it cute. Not a single one complained.

You didn’t speak a word, but the way you stared at him let it clear that you didn’t mind being the first one in this case. It was when an unsettling thought crossed your mind and you made the next question as an instinct.

- May I ask about his mother? Where is she?

A low growl was the first response you got from Toji, then a single word that made you regret questioning him so recklessly.

- Dead.

Your eyes widened a bit and you didn’t resist the impulse to bit your lip. You turned to the baby, still paying attention to the adult talking, and then again to his father.

- I… I’m so sorry for this, I didn’t…

- Nevermind – he cut you off – Truth is that he never met her. He was only a few weeks old when she passed away. He only has seen her in pictures and the first thing he noticed was her dark hair. It seems to be the only thing he likes about her, too.

You didn’t know what to say in response, so you kept your mouth shut. Maybe there was nothing you could say that would fit: you just arrived at that house, just met those people and had nothing to do with their past or their circumstances; yes, you had the right to find all of that weird and to worry about the effects of it in the child you were about to be babysitting, but even now that you knew its reasons, you were no one to judge.

Doing the favor of finishing that embarrassing conversation, Toji approached you, taking something from his pocket and offering it to you. You opened your mouth and closed it again when you saw that amount of money.

- Is this enough for a week with him?

The truth is that it was twice the price you would accept for a week of your services. Didn’t he have any idea of what he was doing?

- Actually this is…

You tried to reason with him as the honest worker you were, but Toji just sighed and took a second amount of cash from his other pocket, making you desperate.

- Fine, and what about this? I’m sure you can pay for your train now.

You understood it was useless to try and explain to him about minimum wages and other matters concerning the caregivers’ category, so you just kept quiet and took the money from his hand, keeping it away from the baby’s curious hands.

- Now listen, y/n. Anything you need to know about his routine and habits are on the list I left right there – he pointed at a paper beside the TV, right behind you; you looked over your shoulder, then back at him – As you already noticed, Megumi’s a calm kid. He’s not allergic to anything and sleeps well at any time of the day. He won’t wear you out. If he runs out of anything you can just use the money I keep in his room to buy it. I keep his documentation in the same place. There’s a restaurant at the end of the street if you feel hungry. They have delivery service if you don’t want to leave the house with the baby. Any questions?

You moved your head in a negative gesture. The practical manners of that guy were scary.

Considering everything solved, Toji turned his back on you both and walked away, waving his hand in a farewell.

- Well, then. I’ll be back at 5 pm. Until there, the baby is all yours.

Without waiting for any response from you, he went to the front door and left while you stood there in the center of the living room asking yourself if all of that was real and having the baby quietly playing with your hair.

[seokstrivia]

Neon Lights | dpr live

↬ Summary: You and Dabin work in a club, that’s it, that’s the fic

or, a cute moment between two friends 

↬ Club!AU | word count: 2.4k

↬ DPR Live x Reader: friends to lovers au, slowish burn, it takes place in a club where the two of you work, confessions, one-shot, fluff, minor angst, it's just short and sweet 

↬ A/N so this is my first khh fic on this account, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask, I hope this was enjoyable and you all welcome my love for khh to this blog, thank you <3 

A long and tiring sigh parted your lips as you dragged your feet towards the cloakroom. Sure, getting paid meant that you could buy food and feed yourself, pay bills and stay warm through winter, but you were 100% certain that it did not mean never getting any time to rest.

You were putting your jacket away when you heard a small chuckle behind you, one that you knew all too well. A pout formed its way onto your lips while you turned around to face the one person you would do absolutely anything for.

Hong Dabin— your work best friend.

“Good to see you’re happy to be here!” His tone was chirpy, but as usual, laced with sarcasm.

It made you roll your eyes before straightening your shoulders and crossing your arms. Almost in a way to intimidate him or stare him down, but he only smiled in return and you sighed in defeat.

“Do you know how hard it was to stay awake during my last lecture today?” You moaned as you followed him to his spot at the bar. “Clarkson’s monotone voice seeps right through me, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.”

Dabin shook his head before laughing at the forlorn expression etched into your face. Sometimes he wished he could take a picture so he could keep it forever, but you would probably threaten him and force him to delete it.

He knew you well. Maybe, a little too well.

“You’re just being dramatic as usual,” he told you, earning a scoff in return. “I’ll treat you to a nice meal once we’re out of here.”

That was enough to lighten your mood and get you situated at the front door, minutes before opening, with a smile on your face.

The rest of the night was nothing more than a blur, your job was to sit at the register by the front doors making sure anyone who walked in paid before going any further into the club. But it got boring and quiet after a certain time and, to be honest, the only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting something to eat with Dabin.

Hence, as soon as you were done with work and as soon as the place was vacant, you frantically sped towards the cloakroom to find Dabin. He was already there, tugging his jacket over his shoulders before twisting around to face you with a sheepish smile.

That’s not good. You sighed.

“No food?”

He went to open his mouth to speak; probably to spout out a reason or two, but you'd beat him to it.

“It’s okay! There’s always a next time.”

The smile on your face didn’t falter, it wasn’t fake— it was genuine and that was something he loved about you.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” That was the last thing he said before hurrying out the door.

You watched his figure disappear with pursed lips, wondering what came up—did something happen within his family? Did his friend finally break up with his snotty girlfriend? Did his goldfish die—wait, he doesn’t have a goldfish?

A giggle parted your lips as you laughed at yourself while moving for your jacket and bag. It was finally time to go home after a long and somewhat exhausting week.

Your bed was calling your name.

>

"You know what we should do?" Your friend urged, face way too close to yours.

"Sleep forever?" You mumbled in question while moving your face away from hers.

She chuckled in return, full and hearty before playfully bumping your arm with hers, "no silly! We should go clubbing this weekend."

A grunt left your lips, you knew this was coming from the second you'd informed her of your first weekend ever off work.

"That's far from what I think we should do this weekend," you told her before moving your chair slightly away from hers.

Mina was always bursting your personal space bubble without fail.

However, you could never stay mad at her, she was your best friend since birth and had never left your side. She was also extremely supportive, albeit annoying.

"I think it'll be fun."

You turned to stare at Mina, there was a pout on her face as if it would help convince you to say yes.

Unfortunately, it did help.

"Okay, fine! We can go clubbing."

A shriek of happiness emitted from her lips in excitement, it had been a while since you two hung out on the weekend and truth be told, she missed being able to spend time outside of University with you.

But, so did you.

Okay, so maybe you wouldn't be able to sleep the whole weekend away, but at least you'll have a good time.

Plus Dabin would be tending the bar.

The rest of the week was spent talking about what to wear, what time to be ready by and what drinks to buy to get a little tipsy before going to the club.

Mina wouldn't stop talking about, 'the best weekend ever,' it was annoying sometimes, but you couldn't bring yourself to get mad at her since it had been a while since you got the weekend off.

You missed it.

"Is Dabin working tonight?" Mina asked while finishing her makeup.

You were ready half an hour ago, but you never really dressed up. Comfort was always the way to go.

"Yeah, he should be unless he calls in sick," you told her while sipping on your drink.

Mina's eyes met yours through the mirror, the smirk on her lips had you rolling your eyes as she bounced her eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner.

"Shut up," you snorted.

She shrugged her shoulders before returning to her makeup, "I didn't say anything."

A chuckle parted tour lips making her smile.

"You didn't have to."

Sometimes you thought you could read her mind, but in reality, you just knew each other that well.

***

The club was already bouncing with people, most of the crowd was already drunk but, that was a given with cheap drinks.

Mina stretched for your hand and proceeded to skillfully advance through the crowd to get to the bar. A smile made its way to her lips when she noticed who was working at the bar.

"Will you buy me a drink while I quickly go and pee?"

You rolled your eyes at her before telling her to be careful and quick.

When you turned to face the bar after watching Mina disappear towards the toilets, you were met with Dabin's big, cheesy grin.

"Hi! I'm surprised to see you here," he teased, moving closer so you could hear him better. "I thought you would be in bed sleeping."

You flicked his forehead with your finger causing him to grimace in pain, "Mina said she wanted to go out, so... very reluctantly, I said yes."

He chuckled in response, feeling sympathy and understanding that you would much rather be asleep than somewhere loud and crowded.

"Well, can I get you anything?"

You shook your head, 'no,' before glimpsing at the direction Mina was standing, "he's gonna keep her distracted for a while, so I think... I'll just hang around here."

"And keep me company?" Dabin replied as he glanced away from the two now making out. "I'm flattered."

A chuckle parted your lips as you made yourself comfortable on one of the many empty bar stools.

The majority of the night was spent talking to Dabin, catching up and talking about how Uni was going for the two of you.

It was nearing 1:30 am when Dabin finally asked you if you were ever going to get off your ass and enjoy your night.

"You think there’s a reason that I sit at the counter talking to you all night while you bartend... No, of course, there isn't- WHO’S THAT GIRL AND WHY IS SHE WINKING AT YOU?"

You were drunk.

Dabin rolled his eyes and shook his head, "that's my ex."

You gasped in return, this was your first time hearing this, "you have an ex? But you told me that you'd been single all your life."

"I told you I was single most of my life."

"What's the difference?"

Dabin shrugged his shoulders, annoyed that you thought he'd been single forever. Did you think he was ugly or something? Maybe you thought he would only ever make it as a friend.

A sigh parted his lips as he stepped away to serve others at the bar.

You stopped staring at his ex only to find Dabin was on the other side of the bar—with a frown etched on his face.

Was it something you said?

When he came back towards your end, he handed you bottled water before turning to leave again, however, you were quick to grab for his arm, a look of concern lazed across your features.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

Dabin removed your hand from his arm, he glanced over at his ex before making eye contact with you, "it's not like you would understand. You're the one who's been single their whole life."

His words didn't hurt because they were true, and they didn't mean anything to you. You just hadn't found the right person yet, but it wasn't difficult to understand that Dabin was upset.

And that it was most likely your fault.

>

"Are you working tomorrow night?" Mina asked.

You nodded.

"Is Dabin working."

An exhalation parted your lips as you shook your head, 'no.'

"He's off this weekend," you told her.

Mina knew you were still beating yourself up over the whole ex ordeal with him, even if you couldn't pinpoint exactly what you had said that upset him.

This is why she spoke to Ian, Dabin's best friend, and asked him if they were going out clubbing Friday night. Let's just say she was over the moon when he said yes, and you were slightly freaking out when she told you.

"Wow," Mina exclaimed when she reached the bar. "So, you're bartending tonight!"

You chuckled at the excitement in her tone and nodded your head, "someone called in sick, so I'll be stuck here tonight."

"This is great!" She shouted before going off to find the friends she'd come out with.

It wasn't long before the bar was filled with people asking for drinks, it kept your mind busy and distracted from Dabin.

It kept you so distracted that you didn't even notice him sitting on the stool at the far end of the bar. The very seat you'd taken just last week.

It made you smile, but also made you feel nervous.

"Hi," you spoke softly, but loud enough for him to hear. "What can I get you?"

The scowl on his face caught you off guard, but the slur in his voice told you that he was very drunk.

"Do you think I'm ugly?"

You stared at him for a solid minute before pinching his cheek, even though he was drunk, he could still feel the pain.

"Of course I don't think you're ugly!" You argued. "What gave you that idea?"

He shrugged his shoulders with a pout on his lips and stroked his cheek, hoping the pain would quickly subside.

"You thought I'd been single my whole life."

"That's only because you'd never spoke about your ex before," you told him. "I don't think you've ever told me anything about your personal life, to be honest."

Dabin stared into your eyes with his red and tired ones.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," you added.

And then, he smiled.

"If you liked me more than a friend," he slurred in a serious tone. "I would have confessed my feelings by now."

His words caught you off guard but you couldn't ask him what he meant since he was gone and, well, you had a job to do.

However, his words lingered endlessly in your mind for the rest of the night. Was this his way of saying that he liked you? Dabin liked you this whole time and you didn't even know?

Your mind was reeling by the end of the night, Dabin filled your mind with endless thoughts. Wait, if he liked you, why didn't he ask you out on a date?

A sigh parted your lips as you wiped down the bar, watching groups of people huddle together as they were all ushered out of the club.

Mina hurried over to the bar before leaving, her footing was clumsy, but it made you laugh. You assumed she's forgotten the keys to the flat and that's why she was rushing over, however, you were in fact, wrong.

"Did you speak to Dabin?"

You frowned in confusion, "I did, but he was drunk so it wasn't for long."

She nodded her head in response before leaving and waving goodbye.

You rolled your eyes, watching her stumble towards the male she'd met last week. A potential boyfriend she had told you, which didn't surprise you.

It didn't take you long to finish cleaning, but you were exhausted and couldn't wait for your bed. It was nearing 3:30 am when you left the club, the area was empty and quiet as you walked towards your car.

Dabin, who you thought had gone home hours ago, was leaning against the car door. Staring at the night sky, admiring the stars, something in your stomach churned, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster the closer you got.

"Hey," you smiled, keys in hand as you unlocked the car. "You need a ride home?"

His eyes finally met yours, he appeared to have sobered up as a smile rose across his lips, "if you don't mind," he chuckled. "Honestly, I just wanted to apologise."

"For what?"

"For being an idiot," he said. "Selfish, mostly. I got upset that maybe you'd never see me as anything more than a friend."

You punched his arm causing him to wince in pain, "you're an idiot, Dabin."

He shrugged his shoulders while rubbing the pain away.

"If you'd just told me how you felt or I dont know? Asked me out on a date," you argued. "You would have found out that I feel the same."

"You like me?" He asked carefully, eyes searching yours for answers—for anything.

"Yeah, I do."

A wide smile adorned his lips before his arms found your waist and lured you in for a hug, you giggled in return while coiling your arms around his neck.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asked as he drew back to look at you.

You rolled your eyes, "took you long enough."

[sabertoothwalrus]

there are lots of different variations of the SU x GF crossover so I wanted to share my own headcanons! (which apply to all of the comics I’ve made)

General:

It takes place post-SUF and post-GF (no Bill stuff, sorry guys lol)

Steven crosses paths with Stan and Ford while he was still on the east coast, sometime in the late winter/early spring

maybe they invite him onto their boat for a chat and some cocoa idk

Stan gave Steven his beanie (which is why I’ve been drawing Steven wearing a beanie)

They suggested he visit the Mystery Shack in Gravity Falls whenever he’s in the area. Stan and Ford would there in the summer for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday, so they hopefully meet again if the timing was right (and it is)

By the late spring/early summer, Steven makes it to Gravity Falls

He initially only plans to stay for a couple days, but gets on well will Soos (and Melody!), and within a day or so the twins arrive, who convince him to work at the shack for the summer

Steven agrees, but leaves when the twins go back to school, since there’s only a small handful of people in Gravity Falls he can actually stand to be around (they’re all a bit to mean for his tastes)

Steven is suuuuper gullible, and can’t quite differentiate between the Mystery Shack gimmicks and the genuinely supernatural. Like I said on this comic, he doesn’t really have a reason to be skeptical of things that are out of the ordinary, and he’s excited by stuff that he knows isn’t caused by gem stuff.

Since Steven is staying in Gravity Falls on his birthday (August 15th), the gems would certainly come visit. They can’t stay for very long, though, since they’re pretty busy nowadays. 

Stan and Ford don’t arrive until mid August, and head back to the Atlantic Ocean shortly after Dipper and Mabel’s birthday

There might still be a corrupted gem or two lurking in the woods, but overall there’s a pretty astonishing lack of gem-related activity. Steven finds himself out of his element (but he’s kind of digging it??)

Mabel learns that Steven has never been to school, and now with her first year’s experience of high school under her belt, convinces her friends, Dipper, and Wendy to let Steven pretend he’s a high school student for a day, and set up a fake classroom with fake homework and everything. 

I usually roll my eyes at suspiciously perfect coincidences, like certain characters previously knowing each other or someone Steven knows just so happens to visit the Mystery Shack while he’s working there, but I do like the concept that Wendy or Robbie is familiar with Sadie’s music. Maybe Steven could let Sadie call them and do a mini-performance over the phone lol

Character dynamics:

Sometimes Steven will state unusual facts about himself so nonchalantly, no one can tell whether he’s fucking with them or not

Like most other iterations of this crossover, Dipper has taken a High interest in solving What’s Up With Steven, even though there’s nothing to solve.

Steven isn’t THAT open. He doesn’t share every little detail about himself, especially regarding his recent trauma. (I mean, it’s extremely personal, why would he yknow)

Dipper actually gets a little jealous of how well Steven and Mabel get along, even when they’re doing stuff he’s not into. Cause like, that’s his sister! >:0

pre-Future Steven would not have been very fond of Dipper, but post-Future Steven definitely is. He sees how much Dipper tries to take himself too seriously and act “grown up”, and it reminds Steven that he needs to be better about that too.

Ford can read gem glyph, to Steven’s delight

Stan has a HUGE soft spot for Steven, especially if he learns his story. He has a bit of overlap in the “faked my death and lived a huge portion of my life under a different identity” department.

Pearl would probably get along with Stan for the same reason

You’d might think Pearl would like Ford cause they’re both “intellectuals” or smth idk but she’d think he’s kind of stuffy and actually her favorite of the bunch would be Soos lol

Stan has also traveled to every state, so he makes sure to pass on to Steven his (frankly very bad) advice.

Steven tries to get along with Wendy’s friends, but quickly realizes how little he vibes with them

Waddles is big now! I can’t decide whether I like him better as a regular pig or a pot-bellied big. Even if he were a pot-bellied pig, after a year he’d be 100 pounds at least, and nearly the size of a large dog. But if he were a regular farm pig, he’d be a b e a s t

Steven wouldn’t fuse with anyone here. The only humans he’s ever fused with are Connie, who is his closest friend and girlfriend, and his dad. I just don’t see it happening.

I may or may not add more as I go. I probably won’t delve into every combination of every single crystal gem and every single Gravity Falls citizen, because 1) there’s too many to count and 2) most of those interactions are probably unlikely to happen anyway.