#I'm trying to create them with good story and looks like art | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 7 months ago

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Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist.

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky.

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room.

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream.

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here."

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it.

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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damnfandomproblems · 4 months ago

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Fandom Problem #5548:

Which one says more "groomer"?

"NSFW - Trigger warnings: age gap, noncon 18+ only, dead dove do not eat, minors keep out" "What you enjoy in fiction is mot necessarily what you think is acceptable or good in real life, and that's okay. Just be courteous and respect people's boundaries, tags, filters, and content warnings are useful tools. Fiction is a safe way of exploring unsafe concepts. Many people use fiction as a method to work through their traumas, but its okay even if that's not the reason they like it, some people are just drawn to taboo subjects, that's completely natural. Regardless we're not going to try to force people to open up about their past traumas, nor any other personal information. No story should be banned from being told just because it makes some people uncomfortable. Art is meant to provoke intense emotions, afterall. Even if I don't like something, it's not my business to tell someone else what they should or should not create. I'm an adult and its MY responsibility to manage my emotional responses, not anyone else's. If you find yourself unable to manage please remove yourself from this space and find somewhere more suitable.

"EVERY OTHER ADULT BUT ME is out to get you!! I'M the only one I can trust!! I only like WHOLESOME ships and WHOLESOME content!! Look at this GROSS NASTY PORN someone made!! They tried to hide it because they don't want anyone to know what a GROSS FUCK they are!! That's why I'm showing it to all of you!! I can't trust anyone unless you detail ALL of your privileges and your traumas! And if anyone steps one toe out of line by enjoying a problematic cartoon ship I'll publicly shame them and tell all my other 14 year old friends to bully harass cyberstalk and socially ostracize them as well and if they don't I'll make sure the same thing happens to them!! This is for the SAFETY of other minors and NOT because of any petty personal vendetta!! ALSO I think its a good idea to send specifically minors to mess with people who - I claim to truly believe are - ACTUAL REAL PEDOPHILES-- to totally frickin own them online!! Anyone who disagrees with me is a pdo and gromer!!! So ONLY LISTEN TO ME!!! NO opposing or outside perspectives allowed!! I'm a good, SAFE, HEALTHY, NORMAL ADULT!! PROSHITTERS KYS!!!!!!"

#ask box submission #fandom problem 5548

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luna-loveboop · 1 year ago

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Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

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aloesarchives · 6 months ago

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Father's Day Special(JJK Oneshot)

Tags/Warning: AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Domesticity, Fluff, Unhinged Crack(Especially near the End), Mention of Balls but not Smut(I promise), JJK OC(but not main X Reader)

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader

Reader Pronouns/Usage: (She/Her), Mama, Mom, Doll, Baby

So I know I'm three days late for Father's Day but I couldn't help but write this out. It's been busy and absolute hell with getting ready for Uni. But by July, things will slow down and I can focus more on getting shit down and stop procrastinating. I hella miss writing, I needa get back into the grove of it.

Also, forgot to mention, this fic was based on a true event. Dramatization was an all time high but loosely based on an interaction I had with my own mom lol

“What do you think Dad wants, Megumi?”

“Honestly, I have no clue. I thought Mom was hard but it’s actually Dad.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because he never buys anything new. Even if he does, it’s either meant for the house or us. Dad still wears the same black t-shirt since we were kids. He doesn’t have expensive taste either. No cologne, no wrist watch, no shoes, nothing.”

Tsumiki and Megumi feel more empathetic to Toji than either right now. Father’s Day is tomorrow and the two are out trying to get their dad a gift. But just like Toji, they feel stuck on what to get him. With you, their mother, it’s more subtle and personalized. Tailored to your taste and personality, seems hard at first but gets easier once getting the smaller details. Is it more on the pricier side? Yes, but you are their mother and do so much for them that you deserve anything and everything good to come your way.

But Toji, he’s a different story.

Growing up, the two saw how laidback their dad was. No putting much effort into keeping appearance or staying with the latest trends. They learned early on that Toji only dresses decently, or at least looks presentable, because of you. Outfit coordination was all on you, you always picked out Toji’s outfit or had the final say on what he’s wearing. Obviously over time, he’s learned the art of dressing himself up but he always asks you for the final say.

Anyhow, clothes are out because Megumi and Tsumiki know Toji wears them until they are rags. He still wears the same basketball shorts around the house since they were babies.

They’re teenagers in high school now.

Toji’s old shirts and shorts just get converted to loungewear and home clothes. Some of them have holes but Toji seems to care less about them. Toji also has no expensive taste or an interest in creating one. He believes you pay for the quality but that’s on certain things like a wrench or drill. He never understood the whole throwing your money to look high class. Pointing out that things can stick out like a nail and look out of place. He grew up in a family with money, he knows.

Then Toji literally has everything he needs. That’s what the kids always hear.

“I have (Y/N), my kids, a nice house with space to work, food, and my equipment. The hell I need anything else when it’s all right ‘ere.”

People’s dreams and aspirations are different. Having a family is a common one many have. But Megumi and Tsumiki could clearly see the fond and tender nature their dad somehow exhibits, and it’s only exclusive to the family. They didn’t think much of it until they asked you. Upon explaining Toji's life up until meeting you, Tsumiki and Megumi finally let it sit why their dad acts the way he does.

“Your Papa…didn’t expect to have this type of life—To have a home, a wife and kids. He’d never imagine himself to get this because he didn’t think it'd happen to him, especially how he grew up. But it did and he never took it for granted since. Your Papa has treated me beyond the means of well over the years, it’s only fair I do the same for him. I’m not forcing you two to follow suit. But at the very least, try to understand your Dad and his circumstances. That’s all I ask of you two.”

With that, no wonder they’ve never met anyone from Toji’s side besides Maki and Mai. That and an explanation to your fierce protectiveness towards Toji at the mention of his “family”. So here Megumi and Tsumiki are, along with their litter sister Mayumi, concocting an idea on what to get Toji. They were going to call you but ditched the idea to not inconvenience you as you were busy yourself. Currently in Shibuya walking in one of the shopping districts, they searched high and low for anything that would make a decent Father’s Day gift.

Tsumiki threw up some ideas but Megumi shot them down because it’s not practical for their Dad.

“Megumi, at this point, we can’t get Papa anything! What do you have in mind that Papa will actually use?”

Megumi thought for a second before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve got nothing, Tsumiki. I’m drawing a blank here.”

Tsumiki sighs before looking around again. Meanwhile, Mayumi’s curiosity was becoming impulsive. She wanted to look at anything and everything as long as her pretty little eyes laid on it. Holding onto Megumi’s hand, she tries to keep pace with her older siblings in the busy street. However, after walking for a few minutes, Mayumi came to a stop as she stared at one of the stores. Feeling his arm be pulled back, Megumi looks down to see Mayumi staring off.

“Mayumi, what are you looking at?”

Tsumiki also stopped when she noticed her two younger siblings weren’t behind her. Crouching down, she wanted to see what had caught her baby sister’s attention.

“Is there something you want to look at, Mayumi-chan?”

Mayumi looks at Tsumiki before nodding and pointing to the store that has captured her attention. Megumi and Tsumiki look to see that the store that has captured her attention was Uniqlo. Surprisingly enough, this was a clothing store that mostly made up Megumi AND Toji’s wardrobes. Tugging Megumi along, Mayumi walks into the store with a mission. The two look at each other with curiosity, wondering what their little sister was so dead set on finding. They watched as Mayumi’s eyes scanned the racks and shelves, head darting up, down, left, and right. Megumi makes a decision to let go of her hand to see what she’ll do. Upon feeling her hand’s release, Mayumi speed walks away to the Men’s side. Megumi and Tsumiki made haste to not lose sight of her. Now it’s their turn in trying to keep up with her as she continuously searches for what she’s looking for.

Megumi starts to panic when Mayumi seemingly vanishes before him. He swore he only took his eyes off of her for a split second, and now she’s gone. He was close to going into search party mode when he spotted Mayumi standing before one of the shelving displays. Letting himself breath again, he walks over to where she was before picking her up.

“Mayumi, you can’t run off like that! You know you’ll get lost and separated from Tsumiki and I. You have to make sure you can see us close behind before going on your own.” Megumi lightly chastised her. Though, he never could get mad at her no matter what she did.

Mayumi pouts slightly at Megumi, understanding what she did was dangerous.

“Sorry, Gumi-Nii. Didn’t mean to do it to you and Miki-Nee…But! I found Papa’s Father’s Day gift!” Mayumi excitedly exclaims, pointing to the rack.

Megumi looks to see what she means and by then Tsumiki caught up to the two. Tsumiki also follows to see what the two were staring at. The section she was pointing at was the Men’s section for underwear and socks. Tsumiki chuckles while Megumi becomes both confused and a little embarrassed. Mayumi squirms in Megumi’s arms, signaling him to let her down. Once safely on the ground, Mayumi grabs a packet and holds it up to her siblings.

“Mayumi-chan, why do you think this can be a gift for Papa? You think Papa would need this?” Tsumiki gently asks her, hoping to understand what she meant.

Mayumi nods quickly, continuing to hold up the boxer packet.

“Yes! Because Papa needs new ones!”

Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other surprised before Tsumiki looked back at Mayumi.

“How do you know, Mayumi-chan?”

“Mama said it when she was folding the clothes after drying them! This was when Papa was out with Uncle Shui! She said why does Papa keep wearing his underwear even though they have holes in them. I saw what she was talking about because Papa does have holes in his underwear! So, why not get Papa new underwear?”

Tsumiki found this amusing and a bit funny at Mayumi’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Megumi had a furious blush painted across his face. He didn’t expect their shopping trip to go this way. Let alone, the deciding gift was the most plain and not so well-thought out of. Though Megumi felt his embarrassment burn his entire being, he’s not complaining about the gift choice. He knew it was a practical gift for their dad, especially knowing Toji’s track record when it came to clothing.

As strange as it is to admit, Megumi couldn’t deny that a go-to gift to give to any guy is a pack of brand new underwear paired with a fresh pack of socks. He knew there’s nothing you could do wrong with that combination. He even witnessed it firsthand when Yuuji was way too excited when he got a box filled with pairs of socks and boxer briefs for his birthday. And knowing how lax Toji is, Toji probably would like this more than anything. So Megumi stays quiet and lets the girls handle it.

“I think that’s a great idea, Mayumi-chan. We should get some of these for Papa so he doesn’t have to keep wearing his old ones.”

“But I don’t know Papa’s size…Maybe Mama knows! We should call Mama, Miki-Nee!”

Tsumiki nods while pulling out her phone, hitting your contact. The phone buzzed once before your voice was heard on the phone. Mayumi decides to talk on everyone’s behalf and ask for Toji’s underwear size. After a bit, Mayumi hands the phone back to Tsumiki and the two of you talk. Once hanging up, it was settled.

“Gumi-Nee, Mama said Papa only wears black and dark blue boxers! And also said Papa is a size large!”

Since he didn’t want his sisters to look awkward, Megumi took it upon himself to take the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks to check out. The socks were a last minute decision but again, practical for someone like Toji. After Tsumiki gave her half of the total to Megumi, he bought them and left with his sisters. After getting home, Megumi decided it would be best if he kept the gift in his room to not raise any suspicions if Toji had any.

“So, did you three buy your Dad his gift?”

Mayumi runs up to you and fervently nods while pointing at the Uniqlo bag Megumi’s holding. Megumi gives you the receipt for tax purposes and so Toji doesn’t see the price for it as he’ll definitely take it. You grinned while looking at the receipt, something Megumi and Tsumiki believe would be akin to playful or mischievous.

“Nice job, you three. Now, go change and clean up a bit for dinner. Your dad will be home soon.”

Speak of the devil, not even five minutes later, the front door is opened and a gruff “I’m home!” can be heard. Toji was already home. Hearing his voice, Mayumi dashed to where he was and was immediately picked up by him. His iconic DILF chuckle and the giggles of your youngest child can be heard getting closer to the kitchen. Something you never get tired of hearing and hope to hear more of every time.

“Glad to hear you had a good day, Princess. Now go with your sister to change and freshen up.”

Mayumi nods before being put down, dashing towards Tsumiki who then holds her hand as she takes her upstairs.

You were finishing cleaning up the dirty dishes when you felt a warm presence on your back.

“How are you doing, Doll? Looks like you got dinner all figured out, didn’t I tell you my food prep made things easier?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the feeling of your husband wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Toji wants to be all over you no matter the hour.

“Yeah yeah, don’t let that ego get higher than it already is…But thank you though, Hon. It cuts down cooking time by a lot. I appreciate it.” You tenderly answered before giving him a simple kiss on the cheek.

Wearing a victor’s smile, Toji pulls away. Crossing his arms with his chest all puffed out as his pride builds up.

“If that’s all that takes for some of your kisses, I’ll keep on doing it. Only for you, Doll. Glad it makes things easier for ya.”

Even though it said because of his pride, there was an undeniable softness on his features many would believe was impossible for him to make. But here he was, doing exactly that like it was any normal day at the Fushiguro household. The fondness he exhibits to you is both a blessing and a honor because you knew you were a part of the few people that bring it out of him.

Smiling back, you mirrored your loving softness on your face as well.

“It does, Toji. Now, go change and shower. I don’t know what Shui and you did today but you smell like outside. I don’t want that in our bed so go upstairs and shower, Hon.”

Toji smirks but nods at your command. Taking himself upstairs to wash away the smell. Dinner goes on as normal. Silent but pleasant as it lets everyone decompress from the day. Toji does the dishes since you cooked dinner and the kiddos clean up the kitchen table. Everyone retires into the night without issue and Toji has his arms wrapped around you as you sleep on top of him.

It was 7:30 A.M. when you heard voices coming from downstairs and the slight clanging of metal. You groggily blinked the sleep from your eyes while feeling the sun brightening up your room. Hearing Toji’s faint and calm breathing, you knew he wasn’t waking up anytime soon. After successfully slipping away from Toji’s grasp, you were able to change into your home clothes before going downstairs. Upon reaching the kitchen, the sight before you was a pleasant surprise.

There was Tsumiki and Megumi, wearing aprons, and using the kitchen while Mayumi was drinking her juice from her sippy cup. Albeit very sleepy but that changes when she hears footsteps and sees you walking in with a warm smile on your face.

“Mama! Gumi-Nii and Miki-Nee are making Papa breakfast! I’m here for moral support!” She excitedly whispers to you as you hold her up.

You look over to see your two eldest working away prepping their Father’s Day breakfast. You hum while inspecting their handy work, peering over their shoulder to see.

“It smells good, you two. Though, I’m surprised you’re able to get up at this time, Megumi. Normally, you would sleep in until another two hours or so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the rice balls he’s making, but his tone is less irritated and tense compared to most mornings.

“Well, I feel bad for letting Tsumiki do all the work in cooking. So I woke up earlier than normal to help out. Plus, Mayumi woke me up and asked me to help Tsumiki make breakfast because she couldn’t.”

Mayumi’s soft giggles were paired with your own. Softly patting his hair, you offer Megumi a grateful smile.

“I’m happy to know you helped out, Dear. Good to back up your sisters.”

You pat Tsumiki's shoulder comfortingly to not let her lose focus on her cooking.

“Call for me if you two need any help.”

The two nod before you make your way upstairs with Mayumi, making your way to your shared bedroom where your husband is sleeping. Mayumi writhes and squirms in your hold, begging to be let down to wake up her Papa. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she quietly and firmly opens the bedroom door. B-lining towards the bed with you following suit. She climbs up onto the bed and crawls to where Toji was sleeping peacefully. Your youngest stares for a few moments at her Papa before gently pounding his chest.

“Papa…Papa…Wake up!”

After a few tries, Toji stirs a bit before blinking slowly. Toji motions his head to face the culprit that woke him up from his restful sleep. Seeing Toji waking up, Mayumi beams down at him along with you softly smiling at the side of the bed.

“G’morning, Papa! Happy Papa Day!”

“Morning to you too, Little Lady~.”

He takes Mayumi in his arms while steadily sitting up. Her sweet sequels and giggles echo throughout the bedroom as Toji kisses all over her face and tickles her sides. Grinning down at his youngest daughter, he carries it when his eyes meet yours.

“Morning, Beautiful~.”

The morning rasp and gruffness in his voice made you want to scream at the sky while death-gripping the ground below. You desperately thanked any and all divine pantheons for blessing you with such a man. But alas, you couldn’t allow yourself to fold so easily. Especially in front of Toji, knowing you’ll never see the end of his teasing and salacious, but consensual, advances. You just light-heartedly roll your eyes while shaking your head, but your smile never ceases.

“Good Morning to you too, Handsome~. Happy Father’s Day. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”

Toji temporarily sets down Mayumi as you pass him a shirt to wear since he was wearing his gray sweat shorts. He picks up Mayumi again before making his way out and into the kitchen to satiate his morning hunger. Just like you, he reacted with surprise seeing a fully set table before him. But this is Toji we’re talking about. So the most we’ll get out of his reaction is his eyes which went wide.

He was about to ask if you made all the food as you passed by but you tilt your head to the side and he sees Megumi and Tsumiki cleaning up the kitchen.

“They helped you with making breakfast, Doll?”

You shake your head while taking Mayumi in your arms to place her in her chair.

“I didn’t even touch the kitchen this morning. They were in here this whole time.”

Sitting down, it finally clicked with Toji. He just grinned as he took his usual seat at the edge of the table. Once everyone was seated and began eating, so did he. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type. But he couldn’t help himself in allowing this particular feeling to wash over him. If he went back in time to tell his younger-self that he’d become a husband and a father of three kids, he most certainly knew his past-self would scoff and think he’s a liar. Toji won’t lie because he has a hard time believing it himself sometimes. Even after almost two decades of being married to you and 15 years of being a father, he’s in awe of how his life ended up to the present day.

Sneaking glance as he eats, he sees his two oldest kids having their usual sibling conversation. 16 and 15 years old, first and second years in high school. It would only be a few years until they would graduate high school.

‘Geez, they’ll be legal adults in less than five years…Fucking shit, man…’

Toji then sneaks glances at you, which he sometimes catches your gaze as well. There was a certain feeling of your smile every time you sent it his way. But it was not until he reminded himself that your particular smile you always gave him was of contentment. But not in a sense of bare minimum, no. Toji knew it came from utter satisfaction and gratification in this domestic life you two shared.

No, the life you two created together for each other.

Watching you interact with your children just fills him with life’s satisfaction. He thought it was impossible for someone like him to experience something like this. But here he is, sitting down eating breakfast with his family in their home on a Sunday morning. Damn, he didn’t blame you for giving him that smile because he gets it.

After eating and cleaning up the table, Megumi said he forgot something in his room and went upstairs to get it. Meanwhile, Toji was reading the morning paper while simultaneously listening to the news that was live on the tv. Mayumi was chilling in Toji’s lap with her Cinnamoroll plushie because she had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, you were teaching Tsumiki how to use the coffee machine and the set up for Toji’s usual.

Once Megumi came back with the familiar Uniqlo bag, everyone shifted their attention to Toji and gathered around him. He looked confused by the sudden change in behavior. Placing his paper down, he suspiciously eyes everyone.

“Okay, something’s up. Did I do something I don't know about?”

You shake your head at him, making it clear he wasn’t in trouble. Mayumi jumps off Toji’s lap, pattering over to Megumi who hands over the bag. She races back to her papa with an eager smile on her face, holding the bag up to him.

“Oh, what’s this, Princess?”

“It’s from Me, Gumi-Nii, and Miki-Nee! We got you a present for Papa Day!”

Feeling both astounded and touched, he takes the bag from her before ruffling her hair. Mayumi lets out a little squeal before running towards Tsumiki who picks her up. The bag was small, specifically eight inches by six inches. But what’s inside filled the bag up to its capacity so Toji was intrigued to see what his kiddos got him. He shakes the bag for good measure, causing Megumi to become impatient.

“Dad, just open it up. I promise you we didn’t put a spider or a cockroach in there. This is your real gift from us.”

The man chuckles out loud, shooting a grin his son’s way which made his impatient grow.

“Alright alright, I hear you, Megs. I was seeing if I could guess what you bought for me. Nothing wrong with checking things out. Reel yourself in kid.”

Megumi groans out causing his sisters and you to giggle at this usual interaction. Eventually, Toji opens the gift and reaches inside. His eyebrows furrowed and pushed themselves together, trying to figure out what he was touching. Suddenly, his brows released themselves from being tensed as he pulled out the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks. It was silent, a little too silent. For a second, Megumi and Tsumiki held their breaths while you anticipated his reaction.

Then, out of nowhere, a hearty laughter filled the kitchen as Toji held them in his hand. Amusement was all he felt looking at the packs in front of him. He let out a content huff, holding up one of the boxer packs.

“Wow, this is how you give gifts. You guys are just like your mama, you all have gifting skills people dream of.”

“Wait, you actually like it, Papa?”

Toji let a bemused look pass over him before it went back to amuse.

“Oh yeah, I sure as hell love it. I keep forgetting to buy some and your mother has been on me for God knows how long about getting new ones. You rascals killed two birds with one stone for me. And socks too? Now that’s being generous to your old man.”

The two were finally able to breathe since they second guessed themselves.

“Happy Father’s Day, Papa!”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

Toji gets up to give Megumi and Tsumiki his love squeezes. Tsumiki giggled while Megumi begrudgingly accepted his dad’s affection. Though, he doesn’t resist or push away when his dad hugs him.

As this was happening, you wore a grin that stretched wide with eyes that shone with mischief. Toji catches your expression, fully knowing something is brewing inside.

“Babe, you’re making that face. Spill it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hon~.”

Oh, there’s definitely something now and Toji’s gonna get it out of you.

“Don’t be so coy, (Y/N). You got that grin plastered on your face and eyeing me like that, you got something to say. I see those little gears in your pretty head of yours moving.”

You were trying to hold in your laughter. Key word was try though. The moment you made your thoughts be known will cause endless oxygen-depriving laughter from you. But you needed to say it in full. No stutters, no mistakes, no slang, dead set on getting those words out. You can’t fumble yourself right now.

“I’m just saying, I have been telling you to get new ones for years! Some of your underwear have holes in them! You have to get new ones every five to seven years, Hon!”

He playfully scoffs.

“Doll, just because they’re old doesn’t mean I need to throw them away after a few years. If they can still do their job in covering up my junk, I don’t see why I need to get new ones. I only needed to know one because of you.”

Sighing exasperatedly, you still held your grin and waited for the right moment to strike.

“Hon, you don’t understand. I’m not saying you need to buy new ones after a while! I’m saying some, as in most, of your underwear are worn down to the bone! You have to put them down, Toji!”

“Babe, again, if it still works, it still works. Yeah, some of my underwear have holes in them but they’re still wearable. Not my fault they have holes in them! Plus, I never wear tight-fitted pants, so I don’t get how my underwear chafes when I wear joggers, sweats, and cargo pants!”

Bingo, everything is in position and there’s a clear pathway. You can’t mess this up when you have a clear shot. Crossing your arms still grinning, you stare down your husband.

“Oh but it is, Toji! The reason why you got holes in your underwear is because your balls are rough! If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck about them. Don’t you even notice when you fold the laundry?”

For a few moments, the silence fell over the Fushiguro house. Toji was bewildered, taken aback by what you said. You were one to never be crass in front of the kids or in general. Thus, this was the closest thing to you being vulgar.

For the teens, they stood still and frozen in place. However, for different reasons. For Tsumiki, she was stunned. Heavily skilled in the art of not being or feeling awkward. She’s not bothered or offended by your words. Rather, she didn't expect you to say something like that when they’re around. She knew it was bound to happen, just not with this conversation and those words. For Megumi, he was straight up flabbergasted. Never in a million years would he hear something like come out of you. Given, you’re known to have sufficient self-control when it comes to speaking in such a manner. Reserving that language for anyone 18 and over, and their dad. Right now, he’s growing frustrated because now he knows what people mean with you and Toji’s marriage has top tier chemistry. Megumi slowly realizes that both his parents are rat bastards and of equal humor. Noting that you were better at keeping it under wraps while his dad bore no filter at all. Meanwhile, Mayumi was just existing and cuddling her plushie. Becoming oblivious to the whole matter as her toddler brain couldn’t comprehend the words being used. But it was a good thing, much to both Megumi and Tsumiki relief.

“Did Mom just—?”

“Say what I think she said…?”

With their minds broken, the two were trying to process what just happened. You said it, made it be known. Something that probably should be said when they’re not present or only with their dad. Thinking about how you said them too: saying them with your chest, locked-in, hyper-focused, 10 toes down on the ground, no stuttering whatsoever. It looked like you were thinking about this for a long time and needed to get it off your chest.

To which you did, and successfully as well.

Just when the teens thought they were in the clear, they were thrown another curb ball. This time, it was from Toji.

“Doll, why are you complaining about them now? You never did beforehand, how do you think I gave you Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi? You took them and everything else. I’m not letting you throw me under the bus like this.”

Silence came back as soon as it left. If the two thought your words were absurd, their dad’s beat it and took your place with his own. Now Megumi’s petrified because he didn’t know what else would come out of either his mom or dad’s mouth. Fearing the embarrassment and possible vulgarity to over take what the two of you said prior. He didn’t want to hear nor wanted to know anymore. Just when he was about to drag his sisters away to leave you and Toji to your own devices, he sensed something that made him stay.

All at once, the silence was broken by you and Toji bursting out in laughter. You were holding onto his shoulders, gasping for more air to put in body but it was futile as you continued laughing even harder. Toji has his arms crossed but his sturdy broad frame shakes as he can’t restrain his uncontrollable laughter. The kids watch on, once again thinking this was finally done.

But the next thing they knew, they felt a gust of air pass by them followed with another. In a turn of events, you were being chased by Toji throughout the Fushiguro Estate. Yet, your laughter and squeals that were accompanied by your husband’s playful threats made it known this was all fun and games for you.

It went on like this for several minutes. Your two teens would’ve cringed but let it pass over when they noticed Toji carrying you over his shoulder from the house towards the large Saucer Magnolia tree in the garden. Plopping himself on the grass with you in his lap, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Now, Doll, where’s your present for me? I don’t see it.” Toji says, feigning hurt as he whines fakingly.

You roll your eyes at his performance. Though, instead of a grin, a smile was all that was left. Highlighting the blissful expression you wore.

“I know you, Toji. You just want me to baby and give you all my attention.” You huffed lightly.

“Yeah yeah, but you’re still gonna give it to me. You won’t deny me, Baby.”

Shaking your head, you let yourself be at your husband’s mercy. Indulging himself in your warmth in presence. It was a peaceful moment until you heard a little giggling coming closer. Both of you look up to see Mayumi running this way followed by Megumi and Tsumiki who held a blanket to be laid on.

Toji unravels one arm to catch his youngest and sits her on his free thigh across from you. You never noticed until now how beautiful and relaxed Toji is. While he was known for his laid back personality, you knew it’s from not wasting his energy on matters that don’t concern him. The reality was, Toji used to be tense and rigid. Forcing to stay on guard whilst putting on that lax facade. It wasn’t until he met and married you was when his stiffness and strained body began to disappear from his body. He was relaxing, loosening himself up because of you.

Although your shared life with him wasn’t easy and had its share of hardships, you felt honored Toji allowed himself to rest and find comfort in you. To see him finally have a sense of peacefulness after knowing what he’s been through, you only wish to love, care. and protect him for as long as you’re on this plane of existence.

Seeing how much contentment he has in interacting with his children and you, he was undeniably beautiful and sublime both physically and mentally. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you immerse in the loving family atmosphere you’re grateful to be a part of. Mayumi rambling and talking Toji’s ear off while your husband entertains her. Meanwhile, you watch your two older children talk and spill the gossip in their school lives to each other.

You wallowed in this domestic bliss, savoring it as there will be nothing else like it. You’re not the only one as Toji joins in basking in this domestic bliss as well. He would never say this out loud, but he didn’t think he’d live this long. He thought he’d died young due to his reckless and careless behavior, getting himself into deep shit that would ultimately be his grave. The voice in his mind reminds him that this may be a one time thing, that he’ll never get this in the next life. But he pushes that thought away to deal with it later. For now, he’ll be present here with you as you both happily entertain your little Mayumi and her current interest.

As for Megumi and Tsumiki, they can rest easy knowing they won’t have to hear you or Toji saying those appalling words again anytime soon.

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jedipoodoo · 6 months ago

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OMGG I LOVE BABY OMEGA STORIES!! Could it be possible for one with Hunter? Like reader is taking care of bebo Omega snuggling with her, doing her hair, feeding her and stuff. And Hunter is all 😍 about reader and omega together.

I would die because I saw a fan art of Hunter kissing a baby omegas cheek and I’ve fallen in love😭

I KNOW THE FANART YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!! CUTE CHUBBY BEBO OMEGA WHO IS ALWAYS SMILING AND LAUGHING AND GETTING INTO TROUBLE AND STEALING ALL OUR HEARTS AHHH

if anyone is unaware, this is the fanart they're talking about

"The Sweetest Sound" (Sergeant Hunter x Fem!Reader)

Notes: no warnings, just fluff, babies, gendered terms for reader. Divider by @stars-n-spice (click here for more)

Hunter was in the shed, working on a set of shelves one of their neighbors had commissioned. With the door open, he had a perfect view of you and Omega, seated on a blanket on the patio. Omega took one of her wooden blocks from you and started to gnaw on it. You laughed and took it from her, pointing to the letter Hunter had carefully carved in the side.

"This is the letter 'M'," You told her, "It goes mmmmuh. Can you say mmmmuh?"

"Mmm!" Omega nodded, reaching for the block.

"That's right, 'M', as in mmmonky, mmmango, and mmmmilk."

Omega squinted at you, as if that would make the letter on the block more legible. "Muh... muh... muh.... Mama."

Hunter stopped in the middle of sawing. Had he really just heard that? His keen hearing was seldom wrong, and from the way you were looking at Omega with tears beading in your eyes, you'd heard it too.

Omega took the block from your hand, and started smacking it against the block with the letter 'Q'.

"Omega?" you asked, imploring her to repeat herself. Omega carefully balanced the blocks on top of each other, creating a little tower.

Hunter set his tools aside and closed the door to his workshop, just in case Omega got too curious and crawled inside again.

He crouched down next to you and the baby, trying the catch Omega's attention by playing with her bangs.

"Omega, what did you say?"

Her brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight as she beamed up at him, letting out a string of babbling babyspeak.

"No, no, say it again. Mmmm, mmmmama. Can you say Mama?"

"Mmm!" Omega sang, clapping a hand against her block.

"Good job, say it again," Hunter tucked Omega in his arm and turned her to face you, "Who's that, Omega? Is that Mama?"

"Mah!" Omega said, reaching out both arms to you. You let her grasp your fingers and leaned in closer.

"Hi sweet girl," You laughed softly, your eyes shining.

Omega slapped the palms of her hands against your cheeks, "Mama."

Hunter gave a whoop of joy that startled Omega, and she wriggled in his arms, trying to get down and back to her blocks. Hunter set her back on the blanket and turned to you, beaming brighter than you'd ever seen him.

"That was her first word," He told you.

You turned red, "Well, statistically speaking, that's one of the first sounds most babies can make, so it make sense that they'd repeat it and make the word that we associate with 'mother', but-"

"Oh hush, you sound like Tech," Hunter said. He pulled you to your feet so that you could keep a better eye on Omega as she crawled around on the patio. "She called you 'Mama'. That's huge!"

You still couldn't look at him, though the swelling feeling in your chest could only be described as joy. You'd only known the Batch for a short while, but you loved spending time with them, especially with Hunter and Omega.

"I'm sorry she said Mama first. I know you how much you want her to call you Papa."

"Are you kidding? I'm thrilled that she calls you Mama! It's amazing!" Hunter placed both hands on your waist and spun you up in the air. When you came back down, he pulled you close and pressed his forehead to yours. "Do you know how amazing it is that my kid loves you and trusts you enough to call you Mama? I might be the luckiest man in the galaxy."

You giggled softly, "Well, I'm honored."

Hunter kissed your forehead, "You might want to hold off on telling everyone else, though, I think Cross was banking on her first word being a swear word."

"Heaven forbid," You smirked. You rested your head on Hunter's chest as you both turned to look at Omega

Omega had crawled over to the wall of the yard, using the stones to pull herself up with one hand, holding the block with the letter 'P' in the other. When she saw the two of you looking at her, she grinned, and held out the block to Hunter.

"Pah!"

"That's right, kid, Puh, puh, Papa. C'mon, say 'Papa'." Hunter walked over to her and crouched down, pointing at the letter on the block.

"Puh!" Omega said.

"C'mon, I know you can do it," He insisted.

At that moment, Wrecker made it up the hill to the house, his catch of the day slung across his shoulder.

"Hey y'all! How're we doing?" He asked.

Omega squealed in delight, and pointed her block at Wrecker,

"PAPA!"

Hunter's face fell, and Wrecker was caught by surprise for a moment before he dropped his fish on the ground and ran over to Omega, swinging her up into the air.

"That's our girl!" He laughed, swinging her around in the air.

Hunter tried not to be bitter for Wrecker's sake, but as he folded his arms you could see his shoulders tense. You walked over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry. She'll call you Papa too soon enough."

#lizart writes #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #baby omega #tbb omega #clone babies #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter x you #papa hunter #papa wrecker #will i be writing more of this au? yes. yes i will

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ezziedoodles · 26 days ago

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Why Season 2 Of Arcane Felt A Little Off

Let me preface this by saying I adore this show, and I loved this season. I laughed, I cried, and I had a good time watching it. The art direction and animation is a masterpiece. This is probably my favorite show, but I think it's good to critique the things you love and this entire season I felt like I was waiting for something.

For a show titled Arcane, season one had remarkably little to do with the arcane. Yes, there was Hextech and magic, but the show was centered on this class divide between Piltover and Zaun and all the conflicts that stem from this. The very first scene of the show is enforcers killing citizens on the bridge, with Powder and Vi finding their dead parents' bodies. Zilco's reasoning for doing anything he did was because he believed he was helping Zaun, including raising Jinx the way he did. Vi was so passionate about her city and the injustice facing it. Caitlyn witnessing this injustice is what causes her to question the systems she is a part of. Viktor and Jayce (but especially Viktor) created technology with the intention of wanting to improve life for the undercity. Ekko is a revolutionary doing so much to give his people a community and a chance to live their lives. My point is literally every single character is connected by this conflict between the cities.

Now let's take a look at the second season. Where is this part of the story that was so essential to the first season? There's a brief revolutionary beat with Jinx and her followers but once they escape from prison, the show moves on from this and never touches it again. We see Caitlyn's descent into corrupt madness, becoming everything she and Vi wanted to stop. Eventually she realizes how wrong she was but do we see her make any reparations to Zaun specifically for the damage she caused? She gassed the city, poisoning the air even further (with gas that has been confirmed to make people sick in the long run), harming hundreds of innocent people. And Vi, a character so vehemently against enforcers in the first season, goes along with this for how long? Days? Weeks? And only stops when she can visually see the impact of Caitlyn's madness as she almost kills a child in front of her. These characters are flawed and I love that, but we see them get their happy ending without ever truly addressing or helping with what they did to Zaun.

Ekko sees an alternate universe of everything his city could be, everything they all wanted so badly in the first season. Equality, safety, education, food security, and more. He says he is thankful for the reminder and I fully believe he will go forth with this vision in mind, but do we ever see it? And that right there is the problem. We don't know what happens to Zaun in the end, we don't know if things get better. All we see is Sevika on the council but we don't know if that will fix anything since people have stood up for the undercity in council before and it did nothing.

I want to see Ekko rally his people and repair the damage caused by the war. I want to see Vi open up the last drop and make it what it was always meant to be, a place of community. I want to see schools open in the undercity in honor of Viktor and Jayce. I want to see the two cities heal from the damage done to each other. Fuck it, I just want literally any closure on this plotline! Just tack on a 2 minute montage of what happened to this city after the war and I'd feel a little better. But instead this part of the story was completely sidelined throughout the season and ignored entirely in the finale. I'm not someone that thinks every story needs to have a moral, but this show was trying to tell us something! The first season was screaming from the rooftops to beware of privilege, beware systemic oppression, to fight inequality, and I find it really sad that there was no conclusion for that.

I do wish there had been three seasons to give it a smoother transition form politics to magic but it is what it is. Nothing is perfect. This season gave me so much including the best depiction of soulmates I've ever seen in my life so you win some you lose some ig.

#not trying to bring any hate to the show just sort of thinking thoughts #i rewatched season one to make sure i wasn't hallucinating how important this stuff was #not much to be done about it now tho #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #league of legends #arcane thoughts #vi arcane #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #caitlyn kiramman

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anniflamma · 8 months ago

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hi I actually love your ruthlessness animatic and its the reason I got into epic in the first place so id just like to ask how you design your characters?? your Poseidons design is really cool

Happy to know that my animatic introduced newcomers to EPIC! :D

So my process of designing a character always starts with trying to achieve a characterization that I want to highlight. From there, I gather references, references, and more references! I take inspiration from other media, arts, or photos. The way I came up with Poseidon is based on a headcanon of mine: that Poseidon is a representation of death and everything that Odysseus does not want to become, but ultimately, whether he realizes it or not, has already become.

The death motif is represented by the horse. It was inspired by, of course, the myth of Demeter and Poseidon, but it was also inspired by the novel "The Foretelling" by Alice Hoffman, where the main character is haunted by a black horse with red eyes. Not gonna spoil anything from it because it's genuinely a good book, but you can guess that the horse represents death. Then the idea of him having glowing eyes and teeth were inspired by all those creepy pictures from the Mandela Catalogue series, but I also saw pictures of horses showing their teeth, and that was scary enough for me to include.

So my first drawings of Poseidon were actually of his horse form. And I just loved the visual of a horse running on the waves!

When I started to create his human form, I had in mind to make him look like the horse and the human form were the same person. So at first, he had only black clothing, but I ended up changing it because I just knew that people would associate him more with Hades. So that's why he wears white instead.

I wanted to portray Poseidon as a father who has experienced pain and seeks revenge.

So he has tear streaks that show that he has recently been crying. His clothing is very loose and exposed, indicating that he didn't tend to himself before hunting Odysseus. He has black, silky hair due to his horse form having black, silky hair.

Something else that I also tend to do is not make an overly cluttered design. I'm not really into heavy detailing. I am much more keen on having details, but making them subtle and using shapes to tell a story.

And something that I really like about character design is to have characters designed to contrast with each other.

A good example is my designs of Hera and Zeus! Zeus is dressed in light clothing because he is the opposite of Hera, she is wearing heavy veiling. But I also really like to use shape languages. So Zeus has a large chest and the usage of clouds makes his upper body look big. So he will always look bigger than you. And Hera is the opposite again, her veil makes all the volume push down, and she looks small compared to Zeus, but she still takes up a lot of space with people beside her.

#asks #epic the musical #character design #poseidon #hera #zeus #long ish post

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purple-babygirl · 7 months ago

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fallen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x guardian angel!f!reader

Word count: 1,395

Summary: Steve thought Bucky falling out of that freight train was partially his fault. What if there was another unseen side to the story?

Warnings: angst, crying, mentions of violence including being captured by the war enemy, torture, blood, angel wings snapping, imprisonment, cryo freezing, suffering and nightmares.

A/N: i don't know what i'm doing. I'm sad. i don't even know how I'm gonna continue this story. i have nothing prepared for it. again, I'm just sad. i love you tho.

Guardian angels, beings as old as time. They exist and protect without getting bored or fed up. They are there even if people have created too many wars until they have stopped believing in them and in gods altogether.

She was the same, and although she wouldn’t know, she was a piece of art. Lilac hair and eyes, skin softer than silk and a voice so sweet it could melt mountains.

She had no name or age. She had a number. Angel number 11 was who she was. She had no family or friends.

But she had a human.

He was assigned to her and she was made for him. Her only purpose as a creature of the light was to look out for him and keep him safe.

What she wasn’t supposed to do though, was fall in love with him.

Unlike her, he had a name. He was James Buchanan Barnes. This handsome, brave, young man who got enlisted and was about to go fight for his country. He was so kind, so charming and so so far away.

She was very worried, her angelic heart only ever knowing these feelings for him, yet confident in her powers. She would never let anything bad happen to James, or Bucky as he liked to be called.

War or not, she had his back. He could walk through fire and she would get him out of there unharmed.

Sadly, all of her planning was burnt to ashes when her ‘superiors’ found out about her latent feelings for the human she was assigned to guard since birth.

It has never happened before. Or at least that was what they had said.

It was all the same with each and every one of them. They get assigned to a baby human, be it male or female, they look after the human all their life until they no longer have one and then they move on to another human.

No angel has ever broken the rules, let alone to this extent.

Why did she think she was going to get away with this? Why did she think she was any different? Who did she think she was trying to carelessly cross the clear boundaries?

The night they were sure she had those forbidden feelings for a lesser being, she was chained and temporarily deprived of her powers, and Bucky was captured by the enemy.

They left her alone to wallow in the dark and cry in worry about her beloved, wishing she was strong enough to get out of her shackles and go be with him in this time of war; in his time of need.

When they kept her there for days to give her a chance to have a ‘change of heart’, Bucky was experimented on and tortured by Hydra.

And when she begged, swearing on all things holy that she was past her silly feelings for him and was ready to go back to serving her part and her part alone, Steve had found Bucky and brought him back with him.

She saw the bruises on his face, the dried blood down his ears and she cried and cried until her eyes were out of diamonds.

She blamed herself for being sloppy with her feelings. She had to be careful if she wanted to stay by Bucky’s side. She had to step on her heart and suppress her emotions if she wanted to keep protecting the man she was in love with.

The way she was unknowingly being monitored, however, ruined everything for her and ended her life as she once knew it forever.

Bucky was being the good friend that he was, going with Steve to fight again, looking more courageous and more handsome than any human ever has.

She was so proud of him and her smile wasn’t missable.

They noticed the focus on her face as she made sure the rope Bucky used to descend on the back of the train held up. They noticed her angel heart and how its beats accelerated with every bullet she dodged for him.

They noticed and they had to stop it.

“You lied,” they said, coming prepared with stronger chains to lock her in.

“He needs me. Please let me be with him,” she begged instead of finding a way to defend herself.

They didn’t care, hands already on her wings and others on her neck.

“It’s over. He’s on his own from now on and it’s your fault.”

They were punishing Bucky for her mistake. He was going to get hurt and it was all because of her stupidity.

“Please, no!”

They didn’t hear her pleas or her cries, or pity her heart-wrenching screams as they snapped both of her wings off her back at once.

The second she fell to her knees, bloodied and broken, Bucky fell off the train, her last sight of him being him trying to reach for Steve’s hand and failing.

“You’re gonna be in there for at least 80 years, better try to forget because when you’re out, he might be gone.” They advised with little sympathy as they threw her inside the dark cave-like cell.

If this was heaven, what was hell supposed to be like? She can’t be feeling her heart get crushed over and over like that in the one place that was supposed to be void of such bitter feelings, could she?

She cried and cried, day and night. The bright lilac of her pupils turning dim and dull.

Has she just caused Bucky’s death? Did she just kill the one man she was created to protect? The one man that had gotten her heart to beat?

Screaming until she couldn’t breathe, she mourned the man she has known and loved all her life.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not her wings or her imprisonment. Nothing made sense without Bucky. Her life didn’t make sense without Bucky’s.

They let him die. They let her watch him die. Her heart ached with the memory for nights on end even though she could still feel their bond as if Bucky was still there. It was weaker, but it was present.

She became quieter as the years passed, no longer singing or screaming or even talking. The heavens didn’t miss her though, but James sure did. They had too many of her kind, but James only had her. Such thoughts would attack her every night year after year until she would cry herself to exhaustion every night, eventually losing sense of time.

20 years later, she started having nightmares. Terrible, horrendous dreams of her long-missed beloved hurting others.

Her once gentlemanly, well-mannered, kind man was now ending lives in cold blood in her nightmares.

James looked different. His hair was longer, his face grimmer, his eyes darker and his left arm shinier. His warm gaze was replaced by a dead one she never knew.

Had she not known him with her heart before her eyes, she might have not recognized him.

She knew it was her James. She could feel him. She could never forget him even if she wanted to.

Their bond felt strained, weighed down and suffocated. She had no idea what that meant. She thought she was turning crazy, her mind conjuring up an evil version of James to make her fear him or hatr him or leave her memories of him behind for good.

But she would never. Let her turn crazy, she was still going to be in love with James until her last breath no matter what.

Another 50 years and her nightmares have been recurring visions that she was used to, and even waited for.

Any glimpse of James was welcome even if he was acting nothing like the James she had known and loved.

The hardest visions where the ones where she saw him get hurt, his pained screams pulling her heart out and shattering it.

It all felt so real and that made her hate it all more.

It took her a while but she eventually figured out that James was still alive. She didn’t understand how he didn’t age until the cryo-chamber visions came on. Her heart ached for him, bled and sobbed inside her chest for the man who was suffering because she couldn’t be there to protect him; because she let both herself and him fall.

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tizeline · 9 months ago

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I’ve never seen a separated au with Leo being raised by big mama, what do you think that would be like? (Since he’s kinda rebellious)

For the record, there are AUs where Leo's been raised by Big Mama, the ones I know of are Gemini AU by tangledinink and True Colors AU by v-albion. I'm not super familiar with either of them, but they're there if you wanna check them out.

That being said-

LEO being raised by BIG MAMA omg I have THOUGHTS

Listen, I don't see enough people compare Leo to Big Mama, but he's quite similar to her. Splinter and BM never got a kid together, BUT IF THEY DID that kid would literally be Leo he's basically just a fusion of the two of them!!

As I've mentioned several times before because I love bringing it up, Leo is strategic, quick-witted, observant and good at talking. In the show (as well as in my own AU) Leo's strengths aren't really recognized, let alone aknowledged for a big portion of the story. Because of that, for a long time he doesn't really get the chance to develop these skills, as much potential Leo has to become a master planner his impulsiveness and inexperience has a tendency to get him into trouble.

BUT! All of these skills also happen to be skills that Big Mama has and would value in Leo. So if he were to actually have to opportunity to not only be raised by BM but also trained by her for his entire life. If he got to properly learn strategy, planning, manipulation...?

... Holy shit Leo would be terrifying.

Think about it, canon!Leo managed to out-smart BM in Many Unhappy Returns without any real experience, just imagine what he could do with a whole life-time of training.... yikes!

Not sure what exactly Big Mama and Leo's relationship would look like. In my opinion she would view him as her son and love him dearly, especially if she knew that he's Splinter's biological son.... it's just that BM has interesting ways of showing affection. ("The love of my life just proposed to me?? Great! I'm gonna lock him up in my gladiator fighting ring for the rest of eternity!") She'd at the very least be quite controlling, I imagine.

As you pointed out, Leo can be quite rebellious, so that mixed with Big Mama's obsessive need to be in complete control of everyone around her would certainly cause some tension. Actually... considering how clever Leo would be in this AU... uh oh.

All of these qualities that BM initially appreciated and encouraged in Leo, what if, as Leo became more and more capable, Big Mama started to eventually view them in a more negative light? If she feels like she's loosing control over Leo, if she interprets Leo's rebellion as not just a normal teenage need for independence but rather him malicously working against her. What if she starts viewing him not as an asset or as a tool, but rather a threat?

If BM has reason to believe that Leo might try to overthrow her and take control over her criminal empire, she might take preemptive action and get rid of him before he has the chance to get rid of her.... Not like murder-get-rid-of, I don't think she'd just kill him, lol! But like lock him up, maybe throw him into the Battle Nexus, I dunno. Anything that would allow her to remain in control of both him and her business.

As for Leo, maybe he would actually try to overthrow BM. Considering he was raised by a literal mafia boss, his moral compass is gonna be a bit wack. Maybe Leo's desire for control over himself would cause him to try to seize control over his mother's business. Oooooorrrrr maybe Leo just wants some independance but doesn't actually want to compete with BM, so when she interprets his actions and behavior as malicious he's not prepared for that at all and, as a result, is more than a little hurt that his own mother would take such extreme actions against him. Who knows?

Hhhhhhh there's a lot of fun posibilities here but MAN I'm not really in the mood to work on an entirely new AU. Maybe I'll create some art for it I dunno, this concept is really fun, but I'm not gonna turn this into a proper Thing, so if anyone else wanna steal this concept and explore it for themselves, feel more than free to do that!

#tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt separation au #rottmnt leo #rottmnt big mama

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noneorother · 1 year ago

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The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2, Hangs on a double meaning - Answering why .5 + .5 = 25 lazerii *The end?*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The end?

Welcome to the end of the Bonkers Meta Series featuring your favourite Art Director/Clue detective. This is it! I'm going to wrap up this series as well as I can with what I think really happened, the final 15 and why Crowley says the things he says. Meta, Spoilers, Beware! All that. “Armageddon only happens once, you know. They don't let you go around again until you get it right.”

If you've read my Metatron post you'll know that I thought there were *at least* two time loops with tweaks to achieve different outcomes, seeing as we seemed to be presented with two versions of events a lot of the time, two similar lines of dialogue, double meanings for lines etc etc. If you want a really good recap of a lot of the Clues that have already been compiled already you can go through them here. Yesterday I added my own : The columns in front of the bookshop get stained by a demon, and the stain stays and goes. But why do we care?

Here's my final thesis using the context I'll put together below :

The Metatron is changing the past and the present on earth using the book of life. He's forced a time loop of the last few days at least 50 times over a period of (realtime) months to get the outcome he wants : the separation of Aziraphale and Crowley to allow him to complete the second coming. It only worked once. Let me explain.

1) Not time skips, but stitched loops

My theory about the columns goes like this : a demon touches the right column in the attack on the bookshop, and dirties it. The problem is, in every episode we get multiple versions of the column that are dirtier or cleaner. Why? Because a demon has been touching that column in *more or less* the same place and getting it dirty over time, but the effects on the bookshop only layer every loop and reset, instead of being erased. The layering aspect is super important and I'll get back to it. For now, if we take it that the column gets dirtier over many loops, we now know what we are seeing : a bunch of different time loops stitched together to create a sense of time moving forward in a way that we can understand the story, but that skip forward and backward through the loops. Cleaner column = earlier loop. Here's discussion about clock hands if you want evidence, some even saying the hour hand seems to be going backwards in the first episode or the last, or even that the minute and hour hands must be backwards to make sense. If we think of time skipping ever forward and actions getting deleted (as some have said), then clocks going backwards makes no sense. But if we think about it as a time loop where things and actions are ever being tweaked and changed, then OF COURSE the times won't make sense anymore. People don't show up at the same time if they don't do the same thing they did before. The biggest time discrepancies I've seen in a single scene are A) Crowley's phone and watch being an hour apart in S2E1 and B) Inside the bookshop between Gabriel's fly flashback in S2E6 and him and Beez holding hands, there's an hour difference on the clock. I think that by the time we get to very late loops, some things are happening up to an hour later in the day. A simple example we are shown up top is the Eccles cakes. They are there in the first part of S2E1, but then they are no longer there somewhere along the way. In the first loop we see an ordering action/receiving Eccles cakes action, which takes *longer* than just not doing that and going straight to the shop, so that loop will be slightly later. It gets infinitely more complicated the more loops you are looking at, and we have at least 50 of them. How do I know that?

2) A 25 lazerii miracle

If we know that effects on the bookshop are cumulative and don't reset (because columns), then let's try this idea on for size : Aziraphale and Crowley have been performing the same half miracles on the same spot for 50+* loops, and each times they are layering and getting stronger. .5 demon + .5 angel = .5 angelic miracle x 50*ish loops = 25 lazerii miracle goes off in heaven on the latest loop. Shax then confronts Crowley in his car about a mighty miracle, so we're in a loop here where we've layered quite a lot, but not the last loop because he still has the original glasses/ *but also* Crowley's sideburns are long. Compare it to the scene directly after, and how sunny and bright it is. We're in a later loop and and earlier loop simultaneously.

3) Crowley's been testing So I've been searching for a *reason* that Crowley wears a turtleneck in S2E2 and thren new glasses and changes sideburns, and he seems to be up to some pretty crafty spy stuff, seeing as 1) he seems thrilled by it, and 2) he won't shut up about it (How will our hero cope? Jane Austen, nasty piece of work, master spy) There's also this Clue :

Crowley has a secret, as we know everyone with their hands deliberately in their pocket does in the series. I think Crowley knows before Aziraphale that something is wrong, because he's getting little snippets of memory and feeling, and so he's going off to try and change things about himself, the Bentley and the shop to remind himself in the next loop and leave himself clues or change outcomes if he fails to escape. In the early loops it seems like a fun spy mission, but by the end he's pretty tired and jaded that he doesn't seem to be making any headway on his own.

It *also* explains him throwing books and canapés on the floor in the bookshop to see if it changes in other versions. The problem being that Gabriel keeps cleaning everything up and reorganizing the titles to Crowley can't tell if it's his system or not. (lolsob)

It makes this line seem like he can't fit the loop pieces together anymore, and is trying to make headway without any information, rather than a pre-fall reference.

And this line probably much later in the loops (New sunglasses, long sideburns) :

Okay so! To recap : Everyone gets reset every time, and they make different choices because of past and present edits. But, most heavenly and hellish things don't obey earth laws, and therefore things like miracles start layering, and memories start seeping through the loops. (Point 4 is optional but absolutely hilarious, so I'd like to think it's worth speculating about)

4. The flaw in The Metatron's plan

There's a huge flaw in The Metatron's plan however, and it's that Heaven and Hell don't work like earth does. He's spent so many loops trying to get the result he wants, that he doesn't know that something crazy is *also* happening in hell. Every loop, Shax is emptying out the legions of demons until they barely have enough low level lackeys to go up at all. Hell is understaffed because no new people come into hell in the loop from earth, and they're sending all the demons that aren't subject to the reset into battle. This isn't a negotiation, it's a montage.

So the attack on the bookshop isn't one attack, but waves, and the waves get less powerful each loop. Stitched loops would also explain why Shax now hands Crowley his mail again in the last attack after *just* handing it to him on the park bench, like, 4 days ago in an earlier loop.

I don't have evidence for this directly, but if The Metatron put Maggie together with Nina successfully only in the last few loops, then she's fighting in the bookshop only a few times, and doesn't invite the demons in any other times, which might be why the only evidence is the column, and not books being ruined. But, it might also explain why the demon Eric gets discorporated a bunch of times in a row, he's doing it later and later in each loop. (These are kind of contradictory thoughts, I know.)

5. Aziraphale realizes too late. When I wrote part 4 of this series I was pretty awed by the fact that Aziraphale managed to figure out the Metatron was rewriting things after only hearing him say ONE LINE of dialogue. However after more thought, I think that he's been getting close to the truth a bunch of times by communicating with Crowley in previous loops. In each successive loop he tells Crowley later and later, and it's been getting them reset as punishment each time they figure it out together. By the end they barely communicate at all, because they can feel the danger. Watch his reaction here, in what we can assume is a *very late or last loop (because of the time on the clock)*

He stops himself from interrupting and telling Crowley something important he's just realized : that he's seen Gabriel and Beez get together before. "I know what this means..." 6. Saraqael is helping both sides without them knowing We see Saraquael helping Crowley immediately with the trial when she finds him in heaven. Why would she help Crowley without having ever met him before as a demon? The exchange of "Crowley I remember you, we worked on the Hosehead nebula together" and "I meet a lot of people, (*he doesn't say* I don't remember you)" is a code. They are both trying to communicate what they remember like spies on a bench in St.James park. Who recognizes who, who's trying to stop this madness. Maybe once Crowley gets to heaven this time he's seen multiple trials with multiple endings, and Saraquael has seen them too, I don't really know. BUT she's also communicating with Aziraphale at one point. Look at Saraqael in this scene again about the 25 lazerii miracle. She *remembers the book slap* and then the *looks* at Aziraphale in regards to Gabriel.

Yeah Gabriel, IT NEVER F*&?%ING WORKS IN ANY LOOP SO STOP DOING IT. - Saraquel, probably. Are Saraqael and Aziraphale testing later/earlier in the loops as well? Is this when the miracle was weaker? Who knows! 7. The Metatron job offer was many, many offers

It's really hard to tell with all the pieces of the puzzle moving around, but I think I can count 7 job refusal loops by Aziraphale in the last fifteen minutes. Here's a summary 1) Chinwag with Crowley in the room 2) We should go for a walk instead, here's a coffee 3) You don't have to answer immediately 4) Go tell you friend the good news (This is the important one), it's the last one where he tries to convince Crowley to come with him 5) I need to take care of my bookshop 6) The Metatron puts Muriel in charge of the bookshop, but Aziraphale wants to take something with him 7) Aziraphale straight up runs out to Crowley with "I think I-" 4, again) The Metatron takes him out of the bookshop. "Ready to start"?

Trying to screenshot all that would be insane, so just go rewatch it with all this in mind, and look at how the lighting changes inside of the bookshop and the jump cuts to different angles, and how his face resets every time. It's HEARTBREAKING. 8. The argument

I'm so blown away by the acting and writing (as well as the art direction) in this show, and it all comes to a head in the final argument. Many important lines have double meanings in series 2, because everyone is trying to speak in secret code to not get caught. Especially in the final loops.

In the last loops, we have an Aziraphale who is moving ever closer towards accepting the Metatron's offer, with the straw that broke the camel's back being he could restore Crowley as an angel**/save him; and Crowley who is moving ever farther away, by having to hide all of his Clue gathering, and confiding less and less to Aziraphale in each loop.

Check out the double meanings going on in this whole exchange if you consider that they are trying to save each other using secret codes neither one of them can hear. It's so shattering. Especially when you consider they've probably made it to this argument at least twice, and Crowley convinced him the first time. Why do I say that, you ask? 9. No Nightingales

Because I think Crowley remembers a loop where A Nightingale Sang was playing when they kissed, and Aziraphael didn't leave, but he knows they aren't in that version anymore. 10) I'm a demon, I lied. I'll probably post more abut the secondary characters because Shax, Furfur, Michael, Uriel and Nina etc all have roles to play, but for now, this is it.

----------------------------------------- Thanks so much for reading the gigantic post. If you disagree with my thoughts, or think this is terribly wrong, that's totally fine! I won't be offended. Without a real season 3, everything is just ether. Fingers crossed. I'd also like to thank The Ineffable Detective Agency, @embracing-the-ineffable, @cobragardens, @indigovigilance, @yowlthinks and more for inspiring me and feeding my brain with posts. *Loop numbers could actually be 25+ if you think that .5 demon mircales + .5 angelic miracles pour register as 1 whole miracle in heaven, I just didn't want to go into that in the main review. **The Metatron's meddling in the past seems to me trying very much to highlight to Aziraphale how *good* and righteous Crowley is, despite being a demon, in order to convince Aziraphale that joining him in heaven is a real possibility, and he should push for it.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens prime #good omens season two #go meta #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go3 #good omens spoilers #stitchedloop #good omens season 3 predictions

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