#I WILL ASSIST THEE!

[fanaticastrid]

A pansexual wandered into the asexual tag with a shotgun.

A pansexual commited mass homocide of bots.

Even this pansexual respects asexuals.

[redpanther23]

it's okay, she wears duct tape eyeliner now. so fashionable, so beautiful

[spookybeandoodle]

Kind of want to start listening to CastleAudios since I see people talk about them…

If I did, is there a character that’s broken,sad, yearning for the listener but is hesitant? That’s specific but I know what I want-

Or recommend me any playlist to start off with! XD

[strewbi]

I’m just saying, Suvi’s better than me. if I was sleep deprived, if I recently—within the span of hours saw someone whose safety I was in charge of murdered in front of me while I was unable to defend or move to act because some voluntarily unwashed cannibal decided a light jog warrants death, if I did backflips and risked my LIFE over and over again in the space of hours to make sure BOTH my friends didn’t get murdered, and then took a moment for a well deserved panic attack only for my friends to hand me THAT? First things first, I would scream, secondly I would ACTIVATE. THIRDLY my villain arc would start right there. AND THEN FINALLY, CRUCIALLY, I WOULD GET NEW FRIENDS. SORRY TO MY SUMMER CAMP PALS WHO I REALISTICALLY HAVEN'T SEEN IN LIKE TEN YEARS. ITS TIME FOR SOME INTERNAL RESHUFFLING!

[californiaquail]

wow i really don't want to go to this interview

[gointothevvater]

I wish you would write a fic where...Nimah had a little something to do. Something that's JUST her, not connected to Ceelie at all.

Maybe someday!

[des8pudels8kern]

Akanin's complaints that the Council are denying him the rank of Master because they have it out for him specifically and want to hold him back are all the more obviously the temper tantrum of a teenager with main character syndrome when you remember that Obi-Wan (you know, the Jedi order's poster boy) didn't get knighted until he was 25, and Anakin is only 22 in RotS.

Oh, not being given the rank of Master as the youngest person ever and without having fulfilled the usual requirement of having trained a padawan to knighthood is, like, so unfair and proof that they are jealous haters? That's exactly the kind of thinking that proves that his prefrontal cortex needs another couple of years to mature.

[foxgloveinspace]

My dumbass brain…. I can not read sleep token fic (I still try) but by gosh do I have a magnum opus of a fic I could write for them.

[drowning-in-cabbages]

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

🥬

[theplagueunderyoursink]

Alright, even if my account has been up for... Months(?) I never really used tumblr, mainly because I don't know how to use it, so elder tumblr users, grant me your wisdom, please. (This just means that if you learned something about navigating tumblr, you can share it here, even something about posting or using tags)

[lilaceatingsnow]

What if the fae boys go into heat unexpectedly and the reader is the only one that can help their problem?

╰┈➤ ❝ [Heat] ❞ 【Headcanons】

Summary ► characters get into heat! how do they get help with it?

About Reader ► AFAB, people use they/them to refer to you.

Warnings ► smut, receiving oral, period sex I think, fingering, author never wrote about heat

Characters Featured ► Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

NOT PROOFREAD.

Malleus Draconia ►

it was early in the morning when you got a text from THEE Malleus Draconia. asking you to come and meet him up for something in his dorm room.

“Child of Man. I need you to come immediately to my room. it is an emergency.”

naturally, you were concerned about the matter in your hands early in the morning. so you rush out of Ramshackle to meet up with the dragon Prince asap.

once you reach Disomnia, you immediately run to Malleus' room and knock on the door to his room before he allows you in.

“Malleus, I got your message! What's the matter!?”

“....I've gotten into heat. I need your assistance with that.”

this caught you off guard, but you didn't complain, no. who would complain when a dragon Prince is begging you for help.

“Of course, I'll gladly help you out!”

the dragon Prince smirks and gives you a come here gesture with his finger, which you immediately obey and come over.

“Strip for me, my dear.”

the tone of his voice melts in your ears at how soft it was. his words and tone make you want to obey his every word, and so you strip off your clothes as you look away from shyness.

he grabs your hand and pulls you in his bed as he begins to shower you in kisses on your whole body.

whole body means pussy included. and so he loves the smell of your arousal. dear Sevens, it's such a sweet and addicting smell for him addicting enough for him to eat you out.

his forked tongue teasing your clit had you seeing above and beyond. it was such an addicting feeling that couldn't help, but grab his horns as you ride his face.

he didn't mind that you wrote his face, no no, he was so happy as he got to eat, lick and suck you of your juices.

his tongue did wonders and tried to reach such levels that no normal human would. it was an amazing feeling to feel him eat you like a starved man, like you were his last meal.

his hand was groping your chest for the sake of keeping his hand occupied as well as kneeding your ass gently.

your orgasm didn't take too long to happen, thanks to his tongue teasing your clit so much. though he doesn't give you the chance to let out your orgasm, he backs away halfway there.

you whine, and he laughs at you for the state he brought you through.

“Forgive me, Yuu, but I am far from done, and that means you too are far from done.”

Lilia Vanrouge ►

it's that time of the month when the smell of blood is around and a vampire such as Lilia could smell it around.

and who else other than you would have a smell such as that? the smell of your cycle was strong enough for Lilia to go into heat.

he needed to feast, breed. he needed to do so much with little time. and he makes sure not to waste any time by asking you to meet up in his room.

having to deal with a raging boner during school hours was impossibly hard for him, but he made it through out and that's what matters.

upon meeting him, Lilia apologized for his behaviour and, of course, asked you for permission to do as he wished. when you gave him permission, he was so happy to have a mutual understanding.

he immediately pins you down and bites your neck to suck some of your blood. his eyes rolled all the way back at the taste of your blood. he almost nutted right then and there.

he knew that cycles were a pain, and so he decided to ease that pain by teasing you. while he drinks your blood, his hand is in your pants, drawing gentle tight circles on your clit, making sure it was enough to distract you from your cramps such a nice gentleman.

not only was his thumb glued to your clit, but his fingers were inside you, taking the pain off for your mind.

he's an old man who knew how to treat you so well.

he makes sure to be very gentle with you.

A/N ► sorry that Lilia's part was short, he's like a grandpa figure for me so idrk how to write for him— also this is like the first fic I write after my surgery and it being smut is WILD. hope you enjoyed it tho :33

[andyridgeley]

jennifer coolidge

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

send me a celeb!!

[mydadleft471]

Envelop Me

Summary: Messmer begins to worry when he realizes he hasn't seen you at all today. Rushing to your chambers, he realizes that you're just on your period and need some comfort.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, per usual. Just my boi being soft and caring for a fem! reader on her period.

Messmer lovers, I've brought an appetizer!

This fic was requested by anonymous! The request was, "Consider: Messmer x reader on their period, he's like a very large heat pack". GENIUS IDEA. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you like it :D

My requests are indeed open! I'm going to get started on my next request as soon as I post this, so be on the lookout for a new fic in the next few days.

Anywho, please enjoy! Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting on my works! Each and every one makes me wanna kick my feet and giggle fr.

Messmer was beginning to worry about you. Half the day had passed already and he hadn’t seen you out of your chambers. Normally, you’d make your way to him soon after you’d finished breakfast. Even if you planned on spending the day pouring over documents and books in his storehouse, you’d pay him a visit before departing. This was unusual behavior for you. Had he done something to upset you? Did you fall ill overnight? Surely not the latter; his servants would inform him right away of your state and would have taken you to the infirmary.

He decided that he couldn’t sit and wait on his throne for you anymore. He would come to your chambers himself and see what was preventing you from visiting him. Quickly making his way out of his dark chamber, he startles the Fire Knights standing guard outside his door. Taking the steps down two at a time and rushing through the hallways towards your quarters, he notices one of your usual servants standing worried outside your door. Noticing his presence, she bows and steps aside for him to enter.

“Has she come out of her chambers today?” Messmer tries to keep his voice even despite the uncertainty coursing through his veins like fire.

She shakes her head. “No, my Lord. I brought breakfast to her, per usual, and she only ate a little. I asked if she required assistance getting dressed, but she dismissed me and told me she wished to spend the day in bed.”

“And why was this not reported to me?” His eye narrows and the servant shrinks into herself. She looks like she wishes she could dissipate into thin air.

“Sincerest apologies, my Lord. I figured she simply wished to remain alone today. I asked if she was feeling ill, and she said that she was just very tired.”

He sighs. Sometimes, you would prefer to stay in bed all day, but you would come to Messmer’s chambers and you two would laze around together. He cannot recall a time where you would prefer to be alone. 

He sighs. “I understand. I will see what bothers her so.”

The servant bows and scurries off, leaving him alone before your door. Never before has he been so afraid to see you. With shaking hands, he raps on your door three times. He hears a faint shuffling of sheets coming from within the room.

“Yes?” He takes immense comfort in the fact that you are responding.

“Beloved, may I come in? I wish to see thee.”

He hears your voice quiver. “I am afraid I don’t feel very well today. I’m not sure I would make good company, My Lord.” 

“Whatever is the matter? Dost thou require a healer?” His snakes wrap themselves tighter around his frame, also worried for your wellbeing. They nose at your door, eager to see you.

“No, my love. I’m okay.” Your words come out strained, and his anxiety increases tenfold.

“I wish to see thee with my own eyes to ensure thy good health. Please, my beloved.” He would get on his knees and beg for you to let him in if he had to. He would do anything to know you were alright.

There is a beat of silence before you respond. “Come in.”

He opens the door so fast he almost twists the door off its hinges. He enters swiftly and closes the door, striding over to your side in hurried steps that echo off the marble floors. Messmer’s snakes incline themselves forward and it almost seems like they’re racing him to get to you first. When he arrives at your bedside, the sight he sees makes his heart drop.

You are wrapped in your sheets and comforter with sweat adorning your forehead. You wince in pain and he notices that you are curled in on yourself. You look at him with tired eyes and give him a small smile. His snakes flick their tongues into the air and they taste a hint of blood. Your blood. Messmer erupts in fury and his mind races a mile a minute. His serpents coil and hiss, looking around the room wildly for your attacker.

“What has happened? Who hast dared to hurt thee?!” He roars, summoning his spear. “Tell me now, beloved, and I will ensure they never cause thee pain again.” His voice bounces off the walls of your chamber and he is sure the entire keep can hear him, but he cannot bring himself to care.

You reach weakly for his hand and he immediately takes it, clutching it tightly. You feel the heat radiating off of him. You know you need to calm him down, and soon, lest he burn your favorite blanket to ash.

“No one has hurt me, my love. I’m alright.”

“My serpents smelled thy blood in the air. Who hast hurt thee so?” 

“Messmer, I’m on my period. Nobody hurt me.” You wince in pain once again.

He can’t believe he didn’t realize that sooner. In his defense, he thought someone had hurt his sweet consort.

“I see.” He gingerly sits down on the bed beside your crumpled form, still holding your hand. “I apologize if I frightened thee.” 

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You… do know what a period is, yes?”

He raises his brow. “Thou thinkest me a child?”

“No, not at all, I just didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, lightning licks up your spine and radiates throughout your back. You curl in on yourself tighter and breathe heavily.

Messmer’s eye flicks wildly over your covered body. “What wouldst thou have me do? I refuse to stand idly by while thou suffers.”

“Can you come lay with me, please? I just want you to hold me.” Your sweet request has his heart fluttering in his chest.

Wordlessly, he walks over to the other side of the large bed and climbs in. He doesn’t want to ask you to move when you are clearly in so much pain. He shuffles over to you and pulls the blanket up to cover you both. He hovers next to you, unsure of how to hold you. He’s terrified of hurting you on accident.

You roll over and scoot closer to him, your body protesting the sudden movement. You lay your head on his chest and try to get comfortable on your side.

“How dost thou feel now?” He strokes your hair tentatively.

“A little better.” You continue to shift against him.

He sighs and tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze. It’s loving and tender. “Wouldst thou be comfortable laying on top of me?”

“I think so.”

He gently lifts your body until you are completely sprawled out on top of him on your stomach with your head in the middle of his chest. He places a large hand on your back and you feel immediate relief. Between the warmth of his body pressed against yours and his hand on your back, your muscles slowly begin to relax.

“You’re so warm…” You mumble into his chest.

“Dost thou require me to move? Have I made thee too warm?” His voice is laced with concern.

“No. It feels wonderful.” You nuzzle your head into him and sigh, content. He smiles and places a light kiss to the top of your head. His serpents nip at the blanket and pull it over you, then carefully wind over your shoulders and lie down.

“Why didst thou not send for me?” He traces small circles into your lower back. “I grew worried at your absence.”

“I’m sorry. I just felt like I wouldn’t be good company like this.”

“So thou would rather toil in isolation?”

“That’s very funny coming from you, my love.”

He rolls his eye. “Perhaps I am not the best example to live by when one is in such pain, but I wish to be of comfort, just as thou has been for me. I wish to care for thee, my beloved.”

You lean your head up to look at him and press a kiss to his lips. His cheeks redden from the simple gesture, as they always do. “You care for me plenty.”

“I am glad thou thinkest so.”

You shake your head and smile at him. “I know so. I refuse to hear anymore doubts from you.”

“Thou’rt demanding indeed, but I shall not stand against thy wishes, my Lady.”

You chuckle at him. “I also refuse to get up for another few hours.”

“Being late for dinner does not sound like thee.”

Your stomach grumbles at the mention of dinner, and Messmer laughs. 

“How much of the day did I spend wallowing away in misery?”

“About half. Dinner is not far away.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

A comfortable silence encompasses you both and all you can hear are your shared breaths. Messmer lazily flicks his wrist and your fireplace sparks to life. The flames hum and sway side-to-side, dancing. The black tendrils delicately wind their way up and around the flame in almost hypnotizing movements. You’ve always found Messmer’s fire to be beautiful.

You could stay here forever, wrapped in silk sheets and cozy blankets with your lover. His dominant hand caresses your back with feather-light touches and it lulls you into a drowsy haze. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Messmer?” Your voice is serene and quiet.

“Yes, beloved?”

“Do you think we could have dinner in bed? I don’t want to get up.”

He laughs genuinely, a sound you’ve grown to love. It makes you smile to see him happy and carefree. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“You might have to wake me.”

“Though it pains me to disturb thy slumber, I shall, just for thee. Now, rest.” He brings his other hand to your hair and runs his nails across your scalp, making you shiver and relax even further into him.

“You spoil me.” 

“I know.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

[thatfrenchacademic]

"The biggest issue is students using it, me spotting it and having no recourse whatsoever to do anything about it." can you elaborate a bit further

Hello !

So to explain a bit more: we [aka your lecturers, teachers, teaching assistants, etc...] know that some students will use ChatGPT.

And there is a discussion to be had about how to work with this, how to design assessment which allow students to leverage something which may simply become a fixture of writing in a workplace environment, but that is not the discussion we are having here. Because that is not what we are worried about.

The defensible, problematic situation is: a student straight up entering the essay prompt on ChatGPT, and using the grand skills of Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V, submits it as their own paper.

And our main worry, I think, was for a long time that we would not be able to catch it. That students would, actually, be able to fool us and that we would actually think this was a student who understood the course, who put in the work, and who deserve to be rewarded for their grade. That was the main fear.

But here is the thing.

And listen up, students :

Essays written by ChatGPT :

Suck

Are spotted from a mile away from the person reading it

For real. They suck.

I cannot stress enough how easy they are to spot. You are NOT fooling anyone. I do not need the platform's AI-detecting tool to know when an essay was written by Chat GPT. It is so, very painfully obvious when that's the case.

But the problem then becomes : ok, I have spotted a student who cheated.

What am I even supposed to do with it.

It is one thing to KNOW that an essay was AI-generated, it is another to defend it to a plagiarism committee. First of all, does it actually count as plagiarism ? Second, how do prove, with certainty, that the student did not write it ? How to I convince the plagiarism committee that this is worth looking into ? I am in the role of a police officer, who needs to convince the DA that this is a winnable case, that prosecuting will not be a waste of their time. But I don't have a Similarity Percentage to rely on. I don't have an original source to say "look, this is the exact same wording!" like in a classic plagiarism case.

Best case scenario, I can make my case for thee student to actually be called to the plagiarism committee, where we probe into how, exactly, they wrote their essay, until they fold. Unlikely, morally questionable, and in all likelihood, ineffective on students already so confident in their bullshit that they have the audacity to submit a fully AI-generated work for their finals.

Now, students, gather up, especially if you have considered using Chat GPT this way. Because right now, you might think it means you can get away with it.

But let me tell you something. First, that essay is getting the shittiest grade we can give you. Because you know what is more difficult than a lecturer proving that a student used AI to generate their essay ? A student proving that they deserve a better grade. Once we give you a grade, burden of evidence is on you to prove that you have not been graded properly. And we can come up with 15 reasons why an essay is a shit essay. We put on kids' gloves, when we lecture and give feedback. We give the simplified version of most theories, we give the basics of how to structure an essay, the bar we set is spectacularly low, because students come in good faith, they are learning, they will not be held at the same standard as academics. But if you try to argue that you need a higher grade, when you had the audacity to not write a single word of your work, the kids gloves are going to come off real quick, and your lecturer will be able to very convincingly explain why, actually, giving you a passing grade was a mercy in the first place.

Second. Academics, especially angry academics, are a gossip machine.

You may get a passing grade, and there may be no official note of it in your file whatsoever. But I can guarantee you that your lecturer will chat with their colleagues. That every single one of your essay that year, and the years to come, will be looked at with so much scrutiny I hope your referencing for every single work reaches perfection. Every single paragraph will be looked at with the knowledge that you are likely to have had it AI-generated. Lecturers will tell their TA to look at for That One Student when they grade you .You will not be getting any flexibility from us, no extension without full documentation to support it, no letter of recommendation from any member of the faculty, no word in your favor if you are bordering a grade bracket. If we are feeling especially petty, we might even forget to answer your emails or answer any question you have with such warmth and kindness you really still never feel like asking a question again in our class. And I know that, because that's already happening. I have the name of three undergrads that we know, for a fact, did not write their own essay. Two are not even in my modules at all.

Now. That's pretty mean. But if you have the absolute audacity and lack of ethics required to submit an essay for which you have not written a single word, and thought it would actually work, when your lecturer spent probably more that 80 hours working in this module this term, gave you the opportunity to meet for office hours, to ask any question in person or in email, to have extensions, accommodations, additional time ? When you decided that putting exactly zero second of your time, considered that you were above that - and above other students- and yet we were not able to officially sanction you for it, we had to give you a passing grade, the same passing grade as students who actually made an effort?

Yeah, sorry, you are not getting any sympathy from your lecturers anymore.

[bones4thecats]

Could I request Tengen and Rengoku with an s/o who's a descendant of a famous swordsman?

S/O's A Descendant of a Swordsman

Characters: Tengen Uzui and Kyojuro Rengoku (separate) Requester: ⚔Anon A/N: I now dub thee ⚔Anon because of the two characters and the swordsman prompt. Idk it was the first thing that came to mind. Anyways, this is mainly themed around them finding out their spouse is the descendant of a demon slayer. Just noting!

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　Tengen Uzui　———————————-««

🔊 During his time at the Demon Slayer Corps, Tengen has heard about many slayers. But there was always one that stayed in his mind and never seemed to go away: Kenji Sureiyaa. Who was the Thunder Hashira all the way back in the Sengoku Era

🔊 Tengen loved to read all kinds of stuff on the way he produced the style with his four spouses. He would literally just lay a book on a slightly higher-up pedestal next to your large futon bed that you all shared and whenever he couldn't sleep, he'd grab it and read it till god knows what hour

🔊 One morning, you found him sitting in front of the small training area you had installed in the backyard for your wives and husband. And normally whenever he was outside, he'd be using it. Not now evidently

" What are you reading, love? " You asked.

🔊 Tengen looked back at you and smiled before standing up and closing the book, but not before marking his page. He was almost finished, it seemed.

" Just this book on the first ever Thunder Hashira, Kenji Sureiyaa. "

" Kenji Sureiyaa? That sounds familiar. " This caused your husband to snap his head to look at you. His eyebrows cocked in confusion.

🔊 You laid the laundry basket down and began to hang it all up to dry while Tengen just stared at you in curiosity. Silently pondering on how you have heard this man's name before. He knew you were friends with other slayers such as Mitsuri, but not even she knew of the guy

" Oh! Now I remember. My grandfather's grandfather was named that. How ironic, right? "

🔊 Okay... WHAT?!

🔊 Tengen practically dropped his book on the wooden flooring before he spun you around and asked how old you were, causing you to chuckle before patting his arms as he stared into your eyes. Damn, is this what demon's saw when fighting against the ex-shinobi?

" I'm 20, Tengen. Come on, you have to remember this. Did some demon hit you with some weird kind of memory-blood demon art or something? "

" So you're the... HOLY SHIT! You're the descendant of Kenji Sureiyaa! This is so cool! I married one of the first Hashira's grand-kid's grand-kid's kid! "

🔊 Huh?

🔊 As Tengen rambled, you picked up the book to take a glimpse at the detailed drawing of the man. He did look an awful lot like you great-great-grandfather's drawing you had in your room...

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————-　Kyojuro Rengoku　——————————-««

❤️‍🔥 Rengoku was far from a silent man when he was off of his missions. And right now this was being proved to be true just as much as your honeymoon

❤️‍🔥 Your husband had heard about a book of old slayers from times long past the current one. And he had gotten quite interested into one that was supposedly the tsuguko of the first Stone Hashira: Kei Ishi

❤️‍🔥 Much like with Tengen, Rengoku would ramble about the long-deceased woman as if she was the second most important thing in the world, behind his oh-so-dear spouse, of course!

❤️‍🔥 Today just so happened to be quite the odd one, though.

❤️‍🔥 You had spent most of the day helping Aoi, your dear friend Shinobu's assistant at her mansion, out with healing hurt slayers while your husband was set to return from a nearly three-month long mission up in the northern-area of Japan

❤️‍🔥 Due to this, you were tired and needed a good, long nap. So, you grabbed one of the nearest books and began to read. And as you read, you passed almost four slayers before catching a familiar name written in ink. Kei Ishi?

" Why do they sound so familiar... " you wondered.

" Hello there, my blaze! "

❤️‍🔥 Practically throwing the book at the suspected startler, you noticed that it was knocked into the air before falling right onto the palm of the flame-haired male that you got to call your's

❤️‍🔥 Rengoku laughed as your cheeks flushed and you hid your face behind one of his haori's, which you loved to cuddle with whenever he was absent for whatever reason. And as you began to cool yourself down from the initial scare, Rengoku looked at the page you were reading

" Ah, Kei Ishi! Her story is quite interesting, is it not? "

❤️‍🔥 You just smiled and agreed as he laid the book down on a small bookshelf before adjusting the nemaki he wore to be lighter around his neck, making it appear like a yukata

❤️‍🔥 As he laid down, he noticed that you were looking at another book which was situated just underneath his. It seemed to be the book full of drawings of your ancestors, like your grandparents and aunts, uncles, cousins alike

" Why are you looking at the book of your ancestors, my love? "

" Oh it's nothing, Kyojuro. It's just- the name of Kei Ishi's, it just sounds familiar is all. "

" Do you wonder if she is perhaps an ancestor of yours as well? "

" I suppose so. "

" Then we shall check to make yourself sure! "

❤️‍🔥 Rengoku quickly nabbed the book and set it down on your lap before sitting back down with his outside, seemingly turning to a specific page while you looked for your family tree's page. A tradition for many years was to add on with each generation that held the book in their custody, and maybe you and Rengoku's child will do the same one day

" The final instance of a descendant of Ishi's is with her great-grandson named Takeshi Inoue. "

" Mine starts with Takeshi Inoue... "

" Oh my Gods! Y/N, you're the current descendant of Kei Ishi's! This is beyond unexpected! "

❤️‍🔥 Yeah, it was definitely unexpected alright

[cricket-of-the-hill]

So what's the deal with Fiddleford McGucket? Why's he like that?

Fiddleford as a character is so FUN because he's so complicated and tragic and honestly a little pathetic. On one hand you have this absolutely brilliant scientist with the potential to have been the in universe Steve Jobs who figured out that the universe is a hologram and built an honest to betsy transdimensional portal (with Ford's help, yes, but let's be honest: as mathematically brilliant as Ford was, I think his intelligence laid more in the theoretical side of things, really doubt he could have actually built the portal himself).

On the other hand, we have this man who up and leves his FAMILY to chase after a college friend who calls him one day saying "hey, I'm out in Oregon building a portal to another dimension. Little help?" and he doesn't even think twice before being like "bet" and getting his ass to Oregon. And even if you take in the context clues that things weren't going well with his marriage before he left (as pieced together by the brilliant @divorcedfiddleford in this post), he still had his son and McGucket Computermajigs and he just sets all that aside for this guy, which... 😶

I am gonna write this whole post on the assumption that Fiddleford was in love with Ford, but look, even if that's the case it doesn't make any of his actions less unhinged. Break here, because the post gets kinda long 😶‍🌫️

So here's the thing: in the fandom, it's fun to think that Fidds knew about Bill and they had some sort of taunting rivalry/love triangle thing going on and that's really fun to mess with, but FIDDLEFORD HAD NO IDEA ABOUT BILL. Ford never told him! So even if Fidds leaves California thinking he's gonna have his hot girl summer/queer arthouse romcom where he reconnects with the love of his youth and they spend the summer working in this secluded house in the woods where they can finally live out their romance, what he actually gets is a fucking psychological horror thriller where the guy he loves and is kinda trapped with is either slowly going insane or straight up getting possessed.

Now, all that is 😵‍💫 enough, but it gets worse because instead of doing the normal person thing and getting the hell out of Dodge, Fiddleford stays. He continues to help Ford to build the portal despite how weird the other man is getting, he continues to go cryptid hunting even after the nightmare goblin almost eats him, even if Ford clearly doesn't appreciate the work he does (research assistant? Not even partner? Come on), and never reciprocates the kind of gestures Fidds has towards him (like the infamous double Christmas gift bonanza).

Here's where the duality of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket kicks in: the thing is that he is incredibly brave in some ways and obviously really smart but also kind of a coward and an idiot when it comes to his relationships with others. He'll hit Thee Krampus upside the head with his banjo one day to save his friend and run away to Oregon instead of discussing divorce with this wife the next. He will leave everything he knows to pursue this one guy, but he will never ever ever confess to feeling anything other than friendship towards him. He'll put up with Stanford's creepy as all hell behavior but will never confront him about it even as Ford loses more and more of himself into his project (so no little intervention not even to help this man he's giving so much up for). Like, what was he expecting to get out of all this? If he was never planning to confess to Ford or leave his wife, what was he going to do once the portal was completed? Just keep on bouncing between wherever Ford went next and his family? Did he really think his wife and son wouldn't mind him leaving them behind without so much as a thought?

Operating under the assumption that Fiddleford is a closeted queer guy from rural Deep Down South Hillbilly County Tennessee (said with love, I'm also from the south, but we all know what homophobia looks like here) during the '80s (height of the aids pandemic which would have made everything worse) one can maybe understand why Fiddleford is like that. Why he is so so so afraid and why he ultimately chooses to erase his memories rather than just go back to his family.

So picture this: you are in love with your best friend but you can't tell him 'cause best case scenario he leaves you out to dry and worst case scenario maybe someone finds your boots down by the river and lets your parents know (and we know Ford is sweet and fruity himself and with a thing for outcasts and would never. Fiddleford probably knows that himself, but let me tell you that when you grow up with that fear it goes deep. Because you've most likely seen people who are kind get absolutely bent out of shape when confronted with the mere idea of someone like you existing in their near vicinity). Eventually, you get married and have a son because that is what you were supposed to do all along and even though you love your son and maybe even love your wife everything feels wrong. They expect you to be something you are not, you can never let your guard down, never be yourself, not even in your own home. So then that call comes and it's like a golden thicket: you can leave, give it a rest for a little while, go see your friend, stretch out those inventing muscles.

As much as the fandom clowns him for it, I honestly don't even think he went out there with the intention of cheating (emotionally or otherwise). BUT I do think he was hoping something would happen. It's just that it all depended on Ford taking that first step because Fidds sure as hell wouldn't. And then Ford didn't because he was too busy doing the sin cos tan with his trigonometry homework, but if he had, we could have had a brokenback mountain situation on our hands, lads. Then Fiddleford could have just gone along with it, and done all sorts of mind parkour to convince himself that that's somehow less bad than "outright" cheating on his wife.

So he gets to the cabin, right? And maybe things are good for a little while, like when they were in college. Fiddleford lets loose a little, Ford is happy with the company, they're friends! And I get the sense that they're the kind of friends that mesh really well, like their energies really match. As much as the fandom paints Fiddleford like a sweet cinnamon roll, that man is also a freak. He's out here building psychotic post divorce revenge pterodactyl robots and drinking abducted cow milk just to see what it's like. He's a bit unhinged! He and Ford are the two people in the world that can be like "I think the universe is a hologram." "Cool! Let's prove it mathematically, bro" and "I want to build a portal to another dimension. Just cause." "Catching a ride to your place with my toolbox as we speak, buddy." (My own personal head cannon is that Fiddleford didn't really become such a shaky jelly until the nightmare goblin got him. Like, he was never as adventurous as Ford, but I think before that particular traumatizing event he was all right for it).

Anyways, things are good for a bit, but the real world is still out there. Fiddleford has to make trips home every now and then, and every time he comes back it seems like something is different. A little off. At first it's nothing big, just a smile a little sharper than usual, a coldness in a look, Ford calling him "Specs" where before he was always a variation of his name. Then it's pointed comments that Fidds chalks up to a lack of sleep (is Ford even sleeping at all? Because he could have sworn for the past three nights he he has appeared in the same place Fidds left him when he went to sleep). Then it's a flash of yellow eyes, a maniacal laugh that Ford never used to make before, spells where he seemingly forgets how to use his body (bumps into things, tries to drink soda with his eyes?). As time goes on it starts to become more and more obvious that something is seriously wrong with this friend. And things back home are just getting worse and worse, Emma May isn't happy about Fiddleford skipping town so often, Tate wont stop asking for him, and look, was Fiddleford even making money while he was with Ford? He gettin' paid? Is Emma May back home trying to bring home the bacon while virtually single parenting? (How was Ford even supporting himself while studying anomalies? I can't imagine there's a lot of grants for that.)

But Fiddleford can't leave his friend and he can't really own up to how much messier things are at home because of this whole thing. So he keeps coming back to Gravity Falls, where he also can't really face up to Ford and either demand a clear answer as to what is going on or try to get him some help (an exorcist, maybe). Because if he does say something and Ford decides that he doesn't want Fiddleford around asking questions he's gonna have to go back home where after the Christmas thing he's honestly not sure he's really wanted anymore, not really sure he deserves it if he still was. So he keeps on doing his thing, telling himself "this is fine 🙂," while he sits in a room on fire with a bill-possessed Ford hanging from the ceiling like a spider and an disapproving Emma May looking in through a window.

I think the portal incident was what finally opened his eyes to the reality of his situation, in an ironic way. He destroyed his relationship with his wife and left his son for nothing. Left his own dreams and aspirations aside just to find out that when push comes to shove his opinion and well-being matter so little to this man he was ready to break the laws of physics for. He can't stay with Ford, and he sure as hell can't go back home, because that would mean having to face that he's done burned down all his bridges. So where do you go from there? Let me tell you, if I had the chance to forget the lowest, most selfish, stupid thing I did for a person who didn't even notice it, I'd do it in a second.