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aliveandfullofjoy · 2 years

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Well, it may be a few days late, but it's here! One of my favorite new year traditions: my ten favorite new-to-me films of 2022!

This year was particularly challenging for me, but we made it through, and thanks in no small part to these beautiful films. They're wildly different, but they all moved me and got under my skin in ways I couldn't shake, so please consider this a strong endorsement for each of them!

The same rules as always: no movies from this past year (2022) or the year prior (2021). Every other year is fair game.

01. After Life (dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda, 1998; Japan; 119 mins.) “I was part of someone else’s happiness.”

It starts with a great premise: After death, people get one week to select one memory from their lives to hold onto for the rest of time. I knew I was always going to love After Life because I tend to love Kore-eda’s films. This is almost certainly his most compassionate film (which is saying something, considering compassion is pretty much his whole deal), and, as usual for him, the actors all give terrific performances. What I wasn’t anticipating was how much After Life ends up being, of all things, a love letter to dramaturgy. It goes back to the film’s very premise. The memory people keep forever isn’t really their memory – not exactly anyway. It’s a performance, a reenactment painstakingly crafted and filmed by the people who work in this bardo. When the client selects their memory, the storytellers begin building it as a narrative, as something with a script and a clear arc. I can imagine some people finding this to be depressing, but it almost sounds like my dream job.

Side note: I watched this film about a week before my birthday, and at the time I was also playing a lot of the gorgeous video game Spiritfarer on Nintendo Switch, which is all about ferrying wayward souls to the other side. Turns out my capacity for cosmic yearning and spiritual angst knows no bounds.

After Life is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

02. Jackie Brown (dir. Quentin Tarantino, 1997; USA; 154 mins.)

“I’ll send you a postcard.”

Tarantino is a hit-or-miss filmmaker like no other for me, but holy cow, y’all, when he hits, he hits. Everything about Jackie Brown comes together as gracefully as possible, and it’s stunning, frankly, that it was only Tarantino’s third feature. It’s pulpy, it’s twisty, it climaxes with as thrilling a sting as I’ve ever seen, and every scene – every second, really – feels effortless. To watch Jackie Brown is to feel safe in the hands of a storyteller at the top of their craft. Since I’m a sap, it helps that this is most likely his most tender film: every character is so well-drawn and well-realized, and every actor is doing great work (Bridget Fonda, Micheal Keaton, a weirdly against-type Robert De Niro), but the film’s three leads turn in career-best performances. Pam Grier makes Jackie a heroine for the ages, Samuel L. Jackson is a terrifying and magnetic tour de force, and Robert Forster, the heart of the film, is breathtakingly decent in a typhoon of violence and crime. The three performances, rich enough on their own, are at their best when they’re sharing the screen. It’s nothing short of electrifying.

Jackie Brown is currently available on demand.

03. Barry Lyndon (dir. Stanley Kubrick, 1975; UK/USA; 185 mins.)

“Good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now.”

I’m glad I finally crossed Barry Lyndon off my watchlist, even if it’s clearly the kind of film that rewards multiple viewings. Kubrick’s meticulous world-building has rarely been more accomplished or authentic than it is here. The sprawling world of Barry Lyndon stretches beyond the edges of the screen, with a huge cast of great character actors giving superb performances. The film’s legendary design work is every bit as staggering as its reputation suggests: John Alcott’s jaw-dropping cinematography, Ken Adam and Roy Walker’s extravagant art direction, and Milena Canonero and Ulla-Britt Söderlund’s gorgeous costumes. It’s also surprisingly funny! A genuinely magnificent piece of work from a master filmmaker.

Barry Lyndon is currently streaming on HBO Max.

04. F for Fake (dir. Orson Welles, 1973; France/Iran/West Germany)

“Our songs will all be silenced. But what of it? Go on singing.”

At least 80% of F for Fake is footage of Orson Welles stream-of-consciousness monologuing about art and culture and history and making himself chuckle in different fields and parks and cafés while wearing little hats and jackets. Naturally, I loved it. A strange, poetic, and fascinating magic trick of a film, further proof that Welles was truly in a class of his own as a storyteller, a filmmaker, an illusionist, and a self-made myth. What a gift.

F for Fake is currently streaming on HBO Max and the Criterion Channel.

05. There Was a Father (dir. Yasujiro Ozu, 1942; Japan)

“There’s nothing to be sad about.”

Yasujiro Ozu is rightly regarded as one of the world’s greatest filmmakers, but I’ve long had a pet theory that he was one of the great dramatists of the 20th century. All of his films play out as carefully plotted chamber dramas, their enormous emotional power hidden in the smallest, most subdued interactions between its characters. There Was a Father is as bleak and beautiful as any of Ozu’s films, and maybe the most gutting. At the heart is frequent Ozu collaborator Chishu Ryu, who gives a stoic, honest, and shattering performance as a man whose worldview left him detached from his family and emotionally numb. It’s hard to imagine this being approved by the Japanese national censors during World War II, but thank goodness we have it.

There Was a Father is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

06. Betty Tells Her Story (dir. Liane Brandon, 1972; USA; 20 mins.)

“I guess I still haven’t solved the way I felt about that. The uncomfortableness of being praised for a prettiness I never had, but, you know, kind of excitement about feeling very special suddenly. And it’s gone.”

A short masterpiece of solo storytelling. Liane Brandon fixes her camera on Betty, who recounts a story about buying and losing an expensive dress to wear to a gala. She tells the same story twice – once for the factual sequence of events and once to describe the way she felt as it was happening – and the contrast is amazing to watch. Wherever Betty went after telling Brandon her story, I hope she was happy. Betty Tells Her Story was just inducted into the National Film Registry, ensuring this devastating, empathetic, monumental piece of filmmaking can be preserved forever. Thank God for that.

Betty Tells Her Story is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

07. Donkey Skin (dir. Jacques Demy, 1970; France; 90 mins.)

“Donkey Skin! What a beautiful name.”

What a treat. Donkey Skin easily stands alongside Jacques Demy’s earlier musicals The Umbrellas of Cherbourg and The Young Girls of Rochefort as some of the most blissful films in the genre. As with his other films, the production values are off the charts, including some truly outrageous costumes, and an exquisite score from Demy’s frequent collaborator Michel Legrand. The cast is great, too, including the always magnetic Catherine Deneuve, an endearingly goofy Jacques Perrin, a brooding Jean Marais, and high-camp MVP Delphine Seyrig. The humor is delightfully weird, it looks and sounds amazing, and there are a handful of truly inspired musical sequences. It’s a magical film.

Donkey Skin is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

08. Shoes (dir. Lois Weber, 1916; USA; 50 mins.)

“Whatever happened, life must go on. Whatever boats are wrecked, the river does not stop flowing to the sea.”

Lois Weber’s Shoes must be one of the most affecting melodramas in Hollywood history. Anchored by Weber’s beautiful direction and a haunting performance from twenty-year-old Mary MacLaren, the film becomes something of a neorealistic fable in its depiction of an impoverished young woman doing whatever she can to get enough money to buy a much-needed new pair of shoes. The characters feel authentic and Weber’s depiction of poverty is unflinchingly raw, but the simplicity and intimacy of the film are its strengths. A landmark American film.

Shoes is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

09. Edward II (dir. Derek Jarman, 1991; UK; 90 mins.)

“My father is deceased. Come Gaveston, and share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.”

A transgressive, furious film that beautifully draws parallel lines between the late 80s and early 90s and Marlowe’s source material. Everything about Jarman’s Edward II is bleak as hell, boldly queer, and utterly fascinating: Tilda Swinton playing a spurned sociopathic queen in elaborate costumes! Men screaming in the pouring rain! The realm everyone fighting and dying for being a pitch-black labyrinth of concrete! What’s lasted for me, though, is the utterly stunning sequence where Annie Lennox(!) sings Cole Porter’s “Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye” while Edward and Gaveston part ways. A beautiful puzzle of a film.

Edward II is currently available on demand.

10. Detour (dir. Edgar G. Ulmer, 1945; USA; 66 mins.)

“That’s life. Whichever way you turn, Fate sticks out a foot to trip you.”

This is one lean, nasty noir. Clocking in at just over an hour, Detour is a relentlessly paced and relentlessly mean thriller, one that puts a fittingly mopey Tom Neal in a runaway car in the opening minutes and never, ever lets up. He’s joined (if not supported) by Ann Savage, who gives a truly venomous performance, practically spitting every lethal line she has. It’s bleak, it’s powerful, and it’s gorgeous in its own hellish way. I’ve never connected with film noir quite as much as I would like to, but this is as perfect an example of the genre as I’ve ever seen.

Detour is currently streaming on the Criterion Channel and Prime Video.

Honorable mentions (in alphabetical order): At Land (dir. Maya Deren, 1944); Bright Star (dir. Jane Campion, 2009); Brown Sugar (dir. Rick Famuyiwa, 2002); The Cameraman’s Revenge (dir. Ladislas Starevich, 1912); Cops (dir. Buster Keaton & Edward F. Cline, 1922); Daybreak Express (dir. D.A. Pennebaker, 1953); The Dover Boys at Pimento University (dir. Chuck Jones, 1942); A Fish Called Wanda (dir. Charles Crichton, 1988); Full Metal Jacket (dir. Stanley Kubrick, 1987); Inside Man (dir. Spike Lee, 2006); Inspiration (dir. Karel Zeman, 1949); Ivan’s Childhood (dir. Andrei Tarkovsky, 1962); La Ciénaga (dir. Lucrecia Martel, 2001); The Last of Sheila (dir. Herbert Ross, 1973); Les Diaboliques (dir. Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1955); Les Vampires (dir. Louis Feuillade, 1915); McCabe & Mrs. Miller (dir. Robert Altman, 1971); The Meetings of Anna (dir. Chantal Akerman, 1976); Nitrate Kisses (dir. Barbara Hammer, 1992); Pépé le Moko (dir. Julien Duvivier, 1937); Police Story (dir. Jackie Chan, 1985); Portrait of Jason (dir. Shirley Clarke, 1967); Postcards from the Edge (dir. Mike Nichols, 1990); Pyaasa (dir. Guru Dutt, 1957); Reluctantly Queer (dir. Akosua Adoma Owusu, 2016); The River (dir. Jean Renoir, 1951); The Secret of Roan Inish (dir. John Sayles, 1994); The Slumber Party Massacre (dir. Amy Holden Jones, 1982); Speed (dir. Jan de Bont, 1994); The Story of a Three-Day Pass (dir. Melvin Van Peebles, 1967); 13th (dir. Ava DuVernay, 2016); Wasp (dir. Andrea Arnold, 2003); You Were Never Really Here (dir. Lynne Ramsay, 2017)

And finally, some miscellaneous viewing stats:

First movie watched in 2022: Bright Star (dir. Jane Campion, 2009)

Final movie watched in 2022: The Thin Man (dir. W. S. Van Dyke, 1934)

Least favorite movie: Garden State (dir. Zach Braff, 2004)

Oldest movie: Cinderella (dir. Georges Méliès, 1899)

Longest movie: Les Vampires (dir. Louis Feuillade, 1915 – 422 mins.)

Shortest movie: Western Spaghetti (dir. PES, 2008 – 2 mins.)

Month with most movies: December (26)

Month with fewest movies: April (8)

First movie from 2022 seen: Turning Red (dir. Domee Shi, 2022)

Total movies: 190

Yay! Movies are good sometimes! Good stuff!

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thehumanexperience8b · 6 months

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March 26th, 2024: I Am In Control

Hello! I am so sorry I haven’t been able to write to you these past couple days, I just got busy. Actually, I’m lying! (For the sake of this entry!!) I didn’t write because I just didn’t. The reason for why may vary, but in reality, I had complete control over my actions. Taking a break of course is okay, but I take full responsibility for my actions.

Taking responsibility for your actions can be scary, or it can be freeing! The universe will throw things in your way, but if you want it, you can have it! Don’t keep telling yourself “but the circumstances…” because the circumstances aren’t in control, you are!

I’m going to talk about a classic psychology experiment in American history called the Stanley Milgram experiment. To summarize, the patient/volunteer in the study is asked politely by a figure of authority (perceived scientist in experiment) to inflict pain on an unseen actor. They were told they needed to flip the switch to give the actor an electric shock if they got an answer wrong. The experiment showed that most people will do as they were told even if they didn’t want to hurt the man anymore. Milgram has stated that 65% of the people in the study administered the heaviest voltage of 450 volts and were assumed to have killed the man behind the screen. The volunteers believed that the scientist would take responsibility for hurting this man, when really, all actions are on the person flipping the switch. Who is actually flipping that switch? Why do you listen to that man and not the man in pain? I do think there’s some problems with this, as they weren’t just doing it for fun, they were slightly pressured. But we can gather that the man would not be getting shocks if it wasn’t for the person delivering them.

I’ve seen a lot of videos in which there might be someone saying something like, for example, “I want to lose weight, but I can’t because…” but yes, you can! No it won’t be easy, but humans are made for the dirty work! If you want something bad enough, you will find a way to get there. Be a dreamer, it’s not a bad thing. Just start reasonably and set your sights high. There’s a saying that goes, aim for the sky and you’ll reach the ceiling. Aim for the ceiling, you’ll stay on the floor. Similarly, aim for the moon, and if you miss, you’ll fall upon the stars. But I’m rambling about dreams now!

Another opinion that has risen in popularity online (but has died off a little now) is that if you have mental illness you have an excuse for your actions. It reminds me of the story I tell often where this person trying to get involved with my friend group, felt it was appropriate to hit me in the back of the head, because she has D.I.D and “it was just my alter.” I do not forgive that person. One of my old friends I don’t talk to much anymore still defends this by saying it wasn’t her in control. Yes she was! Who is the one with the arms to hit me? I understand why that is being said but it’s simply not an excuse. I think of a simple thought, “if it won’t hold up in court, you are liable!” Not that the American judicial system is the most accurate… As a person who lives with bipolar disorder, if I have an emotional outburst at someone, kicking and screaming because I was the one who forgot to take my medicine; I cannot blame it on mental illness. I am not insane, I was aware of the potential risks of not taking that medicine.

I believe it makes your life easier to accept your actions as your own, and not only that, other people will find you easier to get along with because you accept when you’re wrong (or right). It’s not fun to blame someone else for something, we need honesty and self-respect. My philosophy teacher believes if we were kinder, and more true to ourselves, humans would act more honestly and kindly to others. Is it your brain causing you to conform so you will feel accepted? And is your soul telling you that you shouldn’t? Remember you are in control of your life! Think about your influences. You live your own life, and we only have proof of one!

#control #mindset #i am in control #mental illness #bipolar disorder #love

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moodywyrm · 1 year

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I’m back 😎

a song that reminds you of your partner (if applicable)

brag. about anything.

do you believe in ghosts?

favorite article(s) of clothing

if you could change anything about yourself, what would it be and why? (If you’re comfortable answering)

if you were stuck on a desert island with access to one book, one album, and one movie/tv show, what would they be?

what planet would you live on, besides earth?

do you believe in aliens, or at the most, some form of life out there?

what would you do with 1 billion dollars?

dream job?

give me one fact about yourself, well known or not!

favorite author?

favorite poem!

a strange fact you know

go-to starbucks/coffee shop order

do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?

favorite disney princess movie?

rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning

a number that weirds you out?

how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you?

do you have an emotional support water bottle?

how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

nonnie I love you this is so fun!!

I have a few! Rosemary by Deftones, Mary on a Cross by Ghost, and Cariño by The Maria's.

I'm actually so smart! I've made Dean's List multiple times (which is so fucking hard in a quarter system), I'm in the senior honor's program for my major, and im generally just very smart! A smart cookie <3 egg head <3

Yes! And I think we should let them be <3

My big gray cardigan! And my black leather jacket, my black velvet mini, my collection of band tees, etc.

Simply I wish I were less anxious. Like I worry about anything and everything 24/7 and it is just as brutal as it sounds.

Book would be Frankenstein by Mary Shelley or Babel by R.F. Kuang. The album would be Hozier (extended) by Hozier because that is my Man. Show would probably be Gilmore Girls!

Mercury, purely because I'm a Virgo

Yes!! I think the chances of us being alone are so astronomically small, there has to be something else out there, right?

Donate pretty much all of it to causes bigger than myself. Keep enough to pay off my families debts and mortgages, and to get myself a small house.

Author! I wanna work in publishing <3

My original favorite games were Pokemon Ruby and Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life! In general im a big Pokemon fan <3

Ahhh I have a few? Casey McQuiston, Anna-Marie McLemore, R.F. Kuang, John Steinbeck!

I'm not a big poetry person, but (and this is gonna sound so pretentious) probably Paradise Lost? Does it count? It's an epic poem and I say it counts <3

Female Hyenas have pseudo-penises and female ducks vagina's have dead ends (I took a class on sex in nature)

Cold brew! or a matcha latte, or black tea lemonade. but usually cold brew <3 the Starbucks pumpkin cold brew is my baby and I miss it

Yes! I do cleanser, toner, serum, essence, moisturizer, and (if it's morning) sunscreen!

hmmmm I really like Mulan!

from 'best' to worst: freezing, drowning, burning

the number 7. weird.

originally I wanted moonywyrm but it was taken, so I went with moodywyrm bc I am a very moody pouty person and also wyrms are a type of dragon!! and I love fantasy, so it just kinda stuck? I associate it with writing (obvs) but also wine grapes?? that one always stuck.

I have a few!! I have a big green yeti bottle, a yeti rambler, and my sister just gave me one of the smaller Stanley sippy cups and I use them all for different purposes <3 but that green yeti really puts in work man, I love it.

ahhh I aim for moody maximalist? the big inspirations are like ,,, the house from practical magic, howl's bedroom in Howl's Moving Castle, and general spooky halloween witch vibes? but also old library dark academia? if that makes sense

#moodythoughts #anon #qna

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raeynbowboi · 2 years

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How to Play as Karen Walker in DnD 5e

Today, we’re doing something a little different by building Karen Walker from Will & Grace. Karen defies my normal logic for doing a character build. She doesn’t have any powers, she doesn’t fight anyone, nor is she superhuman in any form. She’s a character from a 90s sitcom. She’s about as mundane as you can get. But we’re still going to build her, because I said so. So, for those who don’t know, Karen is the vapid, rich, drug-addicted, alcoholic, gold-digging socialite wife of Stanley Walker, CEO of Walker INC. She’s also the assistant of Grace Adler, Owner of Grace Adler Designs, a small start-up interior design company.

Karen is a standard Human. However, a running gag in the show is that nobody knows how old she is, she refuses to tell anyone, and when Grace asks Karen’s maid what Karen’s real age is, Rosario grabs Grace by the ear and refuses to let her go until she promises to never ask that again. As such, we’ll label Karen as a Variant Human because the joke of her being older than she seems is such a prevailing running gag.

For her background, Karen used to be forced to run scams by her mother when she was little. As a result, I would make Karen a Charlatan, giving her proficiency with a Disguise Kit, Deception, and Sleight of Hand.

In terms of Alignment, Karen is Neutral Evil. Her alignment is made the clearest in the episode where Grace wants to expand her business, and Karen offers to loan her the money for an expansion. However, she forces Grace to give her a presentation to persuade her to give her the loan, and afterward, tells her no and traces out of the office like nothing happened. But, when she’s stuck in the company elevator, Grace demands for Karen to explain why she made Grace jump through all those hoops just to shoot her down. Karen admits that it would be fiscally irresponsible for Grace to expand right now. Due to the state of the economy, Grace is actually better off in a smaller business. But, unwilling to crush Grace’s dreams, Karen wanted to just make it seem like she was being unreasonable and be the bad guy to spare Grace’s feelings. There’s plenty of other times though when Karen makes it extremely obvious that she’s an evil character, but this moment helps show us that there are lines she won’t cross, and hurting her friends is one of those lines. From helping Jack find his biological father, to signing up with Will’s law firm so he can keep his job, or doing her best to help Grace get through a break-up, Karen proves time and again that while she is a vain gold-digging socialite who would sell a child into indentured servitude for scuffing her fur coat, she’s also a true friend who will go to bat for the ones she cares about.

WARLOCK THE FIEND PATRON (Pact of the Chain)

While there are no demons actually present in Will & Grace, it’s sort of a recurring gag that Karen is the devil, made a deal with the devil, the devil owes her favor, she could get God to cry, etc. From an off-hand remark about selling her soul to live forever, to Will insinuating that she’d burst into flames if she walked into a church, Karen is hardly a beacon of morality. She was also born with little to nothing, as what little we see of her childhood home makes it clear she was lower middle class at best. It was only by marrying Stanley Walker that Karen escaped the life she had before. Karen often likens her marriage to a series of trades: if she gives Stan a little lovey dovey, she gets a pretty necklace or a summer home in the Bahamas. Almost transactional. Don’t get it twisted, Karen does love her husband, even misses him at times and chooses him over wealthier suitors. That being said, Karen’s general characterization feels like a DnD counterpart of Karen likely would have sold her soul to an Archfiend for a rich husband and power, and just so happened to end up loving the account holder just as much, if not more-so than the bank account itself. You could even go a step further by making her husband a literal Fiend in disguise. Which, considering Stanley ended up being investigated by the FBI and found guilty of his crimes, that’s not entirely out of character. Karen has plenty of hired staff, so we’ll give her Pact of the Chain so that she can have an Imp that serves her and can talk back to her. After all, that’s why Rosario is so dear to her. She takes Karen’s verbal jabs and gives them right back.

BUILD INFORMATION

Name: Karen Walker Race: Variant Human (+1 CHA, +1 DEX) Background: Charlatan Alignment: Neutral Evil Class: Fiend Warlock (20)

STATS STR 8 DEX 14 CON 18 INT 8 WIS 10 CHA 20

SAVING THROWS STR -1 DEX +2 CON +10 INT -1 WIS +6 CHA +11

SKILLS Arcana (+5) Deception (+11) Intimidation (+11) Sleight of Hand (+8)

FEATS

Magic Initiate: Bard (Friends, Vicious Mockery, Silvery Barbs) or (cure wounds) Shadow Touched (Inflict Wounds, Invisibility) (+1 CHA) Resilience - CON (+1 CON) Elemental Adept - Fire

ELDRITCH INVOCATIONS

02 Agonizing Blast 02 Eldritch Mind 05 Gift of the Ever-Living Ones 07 Investment of the Chain Master 09 Tomb of Levistus 12 Sign of Ill Omen 15 Chains of Carceri 18 Shroud of Shadow

KAREN’S SPELLS

As Karen doesn’t actually use spells in the show, I based her spell list on her personality and what would speak the most to her. A mixture of spells that give her servants, means to forcefully maintain control over those under her command, and means to get rid of anyone who steps out of line. Everything else lets her either verbally abuse the people in her life, siphon the youth and beauty out of others around her, or just use some demonic magic to deal some damage.

C Eldritch Blast, Friends, Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Toll the Dead, Vicious Mockery 1 Command, Hellish Rebuke, Hex, Inflict Wounds, Silvery Barbs 2 Hold Person, Invisibility, Scorching Ray, Suggestion 3 Fireball, Magic Circle, Summon Lesser Demons, Vampiric Touch 4 Banishment, Summon Greater Demon 5 Enervation, Flame Strike, Hold Monster 6 Summon Fiend (or) Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise (Lower) 7 Plane Shift (or) Finger of Death 8 Dominate Monster 9 Imprisonment

KAREN’S FEATURES

Dark One’s Blessing When you kill an enemy creature, gain temp HP equal to CHA mod + Warlock Level (max 25) Gift of the Ever-Living Ones While her familiar is within 100 feet of her, Karen regains maximum hit points that she could roll for. Dark One’s Own Luck Add 1d10 to a saving throw or skill check once per rest. Tomb of Levistus When damaged, Karen puts herself On the Rocks and encases herself in ice, gaining temp HP equal to 10x her warlock level (max 200). After the triggering damage is calculated, she becomes vulnerable to fire damage, she becomes incapacitated, and her speed is 0. Fiendish Resilience After a rest, choose a damage type to become resistant to. Hurl Through Hell Once per long rest, when you hit a creature, send it to the Nine Hells until the end of your next turn. If it’s not a Fiend, it takes 10d10 psychic damage (max 100). Chains of Carceri Karen can cast Hold Monster at will on any Celestial, Fiend, or Elemental. Shroud of Shadow Karen can cast Invisibility at will. Eldritch Master Karen can spend one minute communing with her patron to get an advance on her allowance and regain all of her spell slots once per long rest.

I’m surprisingly happy with how well Karen turned out. It’s a bit of a goofy build, but a good one. She’s got a good CON score and proficiency with CON saves not only to keep her concentration while summoning The Help from Hell, but to also stay on her feet while drunk, high, and whatever else she might be at any given time. Karen has the power to hurt people with her words and with her sugar daddy’s power and influence, but she can also outsource her problems to the help by summoning demons and devils to do the work for her. And she has means of deporting them if they raise a fuss or talk about unionizing. Karen is not a character I expected to translate to DnD, but I’m honestly going to have to put her on my list of characters to someday try playing in a campaign some day.

#karen walker #megan mullally #will and grace #will & grace #oh honey #dnd #dnd 5e #dungeons & dragons #dungeons and dragons #dnd fifth edition #dnd 5th edition

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stoneworldsimp · 3 years

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i don’t kiss and tell

stanley x reader

warnings: mildly intrusive thoughts, anxiousness, heavy kissing, smoking cigarettes

he can see the target through the lens, but his hand won’t keep steady,

“snyder, hold on, they’re behind us! FUCK—“

you need to wake up.

stanley’s brain was suddenly awake, and it took him a few seconds to force his body to move. he lightly trembled as he made his way out of his fucked up dream, slowly realizing that no, he’s not out in some high-ground area about to shoot. he’s at home, laying in bed with you at his side. god, this is what, the fourth time this week? once his eyes open he looked over to your face; even through the darkness, he knew he didn’t wake you.

a few minutes passed, and he wiped his face with his hand; he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. he cautiously shifted out from under the covers and left the bed, making his way toward the bathroom. he kept the light off and splashed water on his face as quietly as possible.

he didn’t have to be so careful, really; the bathroom was basically soundproof and you slept like a rock most nights anyway. but… he couldn’t shake the feeling he had in his dream. he looked behind the shower curtain with his phone’s flashlight before he left and kept it on when he looked behind himself while he walked out of your room.

i.. i’ll just have one from that pack, and then i’ll go to bed. yeah, okay. one smoke. and then go to bed. anything to shake this off and out of my mind.

in his jacket, he took a cigarette out, walking toward the back door while he lit it.

—

with his arms crossed, he placed them on the fence of the balcony and rested his chin on his forearm. he blew a puff of smoke when he sighed. that’s better.

for a while, he stared at the stars and the buildings nearby. it was so quiet for the area, there wasn’t even a faint breeze going around. he leaned forward in his chair, the back two legs lifting up off the ground. he could live in this quietness forever, if he could.

footsteps were heard behind him, and he visibly tensed up before he realized they belonged to you. shit, i’m not done with it yet. “sorry,” he said quietly. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and stamped it into the ashtray. the damage was worse than he thought; as he glanced at his pack, he realized that was his third cigarette of the night. slowly he turned around to give you a small smile. he took the pack and slipped it in his jacket pocket while he blew the last of the lingering smoke from the edge of his mouth, making sure it went away from you. you came out in a baggy shirt and shorts, your hair a mess and eyes sleepy.

“it’s okay. i don’t mind,” you replied, and he knew it was a lie. “are you coming back to bed soon? it’s awfully lonely.”

“miss me already?” he asked while he turned his head back around, looking out again.

“‘course i do,” you muttered, your voice closer. you reached out and lightly squeezed his shoulder.

he was thankful to have someone like you; you never pushed him too far, you were always there when something bothered him, you just knew how he worked. he wasn’t the talkative type, but you were more than okay with that; it was almost like you could read his body language anyway.

“i couldn’t sleep.”

you hummed. he felt your hand stroke the back of his head, and leaned into your touch while closing his eyes.

he reached behind and pulled lightly on your hand, inviting you to sit on him; you made your way onto his lap, your leg on either side of his as you sat face to face. his hands slid to your sides; they gently moved up and back down. silence was still shared when you played with the ends of his hair on the back of his head. some time had passed and you inspected his face, searching for any indication of what might be going through his head. you knew something was up, you just didn’t know what. did something happen to him at work? is he thinking about.. before? he hoped he was hiding it, he didn’t want you to worry; at least for the evening. “do you, uhm, wanna talk about it?”

he was nervous to tell you; the whole reason why he was awake was silly, now that he thought about it. he got out of bed because he couldn’t sleep, he didn’t feel at ease until he went outside to smoke what was accidentally three cigarettes in one sitting, all because of a recurring dream. not from something actually pressing in real life; from a dream. it’s almost stupid, he thought; he wanted to avoid the conversation altogether.

he tipped his head down ever so slightly, breaking eye contact for a second before he met your eyes again.

he removed his hands from your waist and enveloped them over your forearms; calloused fingertips trailed down to your wrists, softly grabbing them. he moved your hands to the front of his face, touching both sides of his jaw. with a subtle push, you knew he wanted you to keep them on his face when he let go. one of his hands then slid behind your ear, pulling you in for a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

he was surprised when you went and kissed him on the lips; normally you would have been less than ecstatic to even talk to him up close right after he smoked. he broke away, wordlessly asking if you were okay to keep going. you leaned in and kissed him again.

you had a feeling it wasn’t the healthiest to avoid his inner turmoil like this, but you were tired. you wanted him to feel good enough to go to bed again, even if that meant avoiding the actual issue until tomorrow.

each kiss was lazy and long at the start. lips trailed down your neck while hands wandered to your lower, lower back. every touch under his hands became plush; he grasped and squeezed, each movement just a little rougher than the last. each strained breath was music to his ears.

this was helping, he thought; he was close to getting carried away before he stopped. the both of you were panting, and you spoke up first after catching your breath.

“let’s go to sleep?” you asked, and he nodded.

—

stanley’s head rested in your chest; you kissed him on the head.

i probably won’t have that dream again, but.. what if i do?

it probably won’t.

yeah, it won’t. just stop thinking about it.

i’ll be fine, just don’t think about it.

it’ll leave once you stop—

“stan, you’re… gripping me a little hard.” you tapped his tensed wrists on your hips, wordlessly asking him to let go

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he let go immediately, almost withdrawing his entire body, “i, uhm… i..”

“let’s talk about it tomorrow. yeah?”

he breathed out in relief, and nodded his head slowly. in a way, your words subconsciously let his mind feel at ease by convincing himself, he didn’t have to deep dive into his mental state until tomorrow. he’d be able to hold it off, at least until tomorrow.

“love you.”

stanley wrapped his arm around you and buried his face deeper into your chest, close enough for you to kiss the top of his head. slightly muffled from his hair, you told him again in a whisper.

“love you.”

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #stanley snyder x reader #stanley x reader #stanley snyder #dr stone imagines #dr stone scenarios #stanley snyder imagines #stanley snyder scenarios

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tcm · 4 years

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Pioneering Black Actors of Hollywood By Susan King

Clarence Muse and Rex Ingram by Susan King Thirty years ago, the legendary Oscar-winning actor Sidney Poitier reflected on the Black performers who paved the way for him in the Los Angeles Times: “The guys who were forerunners to me, like Canada Lee, Rex Ingram, Clarence Muse and women like Hattie McDaniel, Louise Beavers and Juanita Moore, they were terribly boxed in. They were maids and stable people and butlers, principally. But they, in some way, prepared the ground for me.”

Poitier prepared the ground for such contemporary Black actors and directors currently in competition during the 2021 awards season such as Regina King and Leslie Odom Jr. (One Night in Miami), Delroy Lindo (Da 5 Bloods), the late Chadwick Boseman and Viola Davis (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom), Andra Day (The United States vs. Billie Holiday) and Daniel Kaluuya (Judas and the Black Messiah).

But it is imperative to remember the veterans from the 1930s-1960s who tried to break out of stereotypes and maintain dignity at a time when Hollywood wanted to “box” them in.

Clarence Muse

Muse appeared in countless Hollywood films often uncredited. And as Donald Bogle points out in his book Hollywood Black, Muse spoke his mind to directors if he felt he was being pushed around or when his characters were stereotypes. Bogle stated, “At another time when Muse questioned the actions of his character in director King Vidor’s 1935 Old South feature SO RED THE ROSE, Vidor recalled that Muse was quite vocal in expressing his concerns. A change was made. Vidor could not recall exactly what the issue was, but he never forgot Muse’s objection.”

The 1932 pre-Code crime drama Night World screened at the 2019 TCM Classic Film Festival to a standing-room only crowd. The film stars Lew Ayres, Boris Karloff and Muse as the doorman at a club owned by Karloff. The audience was surprised that such a stereotypical role was anything but thanks to Muse’s poignant performance. Instead of being forced to be the comic relief, Muse’s Washington is a man worried about his wife’s surgery at a local hospital. Though his boss doesn’t treat him as an equal—after all it is 1932—Karloff’s Happy shows general concern toward Washington.

Muse, said Bogle, “also worked in race movies, where he realized there was still a real chance for significant roles and narratives.” One such was BROKEN STRINGS (’40), which he also co-wrote. It’s certainly not a great film, but Muse gives a solid turn as a famed Black violinist who wants his young son to follow in his footsteps. But the son wants to play swing with his violin.

Muse, who was a graduate of Dickinson College in Pennsylvania, also co-wrote the Louis Armstrong standard “Sleepy Time Down South.” In the 1920s, he worked at two Harlem theater companies, Lincoln Players and Lafayette Players, and 23 years later he became the first African American Broadway director with Run Little Chillun. He continued to act, appearing in Poitier’s directorial debut BUCK AND THE PREACHER (’72), CAR WASH (’76) and THE BLACK STALLION (’79) and was elected to the Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame in 1973. He died one day before his 90th birthday in 1979.

Rex Ingram

Tall and imposing, Ingram had a great presence on the big screen and a rich melliferous voice. No wonder his best-known role was as the gigantic Genie in the bottle in Alexander Korda’s lavish production of THE THIEF OF BAGDAD (’40). Born in 1895, he began his film career in movies such as Cecil B. DeMille’s THE TEN COMMANDMENTS (’23). Ingram also has the distinction of playing God in THE GREEN PASTURES (’36) and Lucifer Jr. both on Broadway in 1940 and in the 1943 film adaptation of the musical CABIN IN THE SKY.

Ingram also brought a real humanity to his role as the slave Jim in MGM’s disappointing THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN (’39), starring a miscast Mickey Rooney, who was way too old at 19 to play the part. Ingram, though, breaks your heart when he talks to Huck about how his dream is to earn enough money to buy his freedom so he could join his wife and child living in a free state. And when he runs away, Ingram explains to Huck why he had to flee the widow Douglas: “If one of them slave traders got me, I never would get to that free state. I would never see my wife, or little Joey.”

He also is superb in Frank Borzage’s noir MOONRISE (’48) as Mose Johnson, the friend of the murderer’s son Danny (Dane Clark), who lives in a shack in the wilderness with his coonhounds. Noble and thoughtful, Mose is the film’s conscience and helps guide Danny to do the right thing after he kills a bully (Lloyd Bridges) in self-defense.

Ingram was one of the busiest Black actors at the time and at one point even served on the Board of the Screen Actors Guild. But the same year MOONRISE was released, he was arrested and pleaded guilty for transporting an underage girl from Kansas to New York. He served a prison sentence and for a long time his career was derailed. He even lost his home. Though his film career was never the same upon his release, he worked in TV and on the Broadway stage, appearing in Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, and died in 1969 at 73 shortly after doing a guest shot on NBC’s The Bill Cosby Show.

Ernest Anderson

Anderson never achieved the notoriety of Muse and Ingram, but the actor gave an extraordinary performance in the Bette Davis-Olivia de Havilland melodrama IN THIS OUR LIFE (’42) directed by John Huston. Born in 1915, Anderson earned his BA at Northwestern University in drama and speech. He was recommended for his role in the movie by Davis, who saw the young man working at the commissary on the Warner Bros.’ lot.

Anderson plays Parry, the son of the Davis-de Havilland family’s maid who aspires to be a lawyer. Davis’ spoiled rotten Stanley Timberlake gets drunk, and while driving she kills someone in a hit-and-run accident. Stanley throws Parry under the bus telling authorities he was the one driving the car.

Initially, the script depicted Parry in much more stereotypical terms, but Anderson went to Huston and discussed why he wanted to play the character with dignity and intelligence. Huston agreed. And for 1942, it’s rather shocking to see a studio film look at racism as in the scene where Parry tells de Havilland’s Roy why he wants to be an attorney:

“Well, you see, it’s like this, Miss Roy: a white boy, he can take most any kind of job and improve himself. Well, like in this store! Maybe he can get to be a clerk or a manager. But a colored boy, he can’t do that. He can keep a job, or he can lose a job. But he can’t get any higher up. So, he’s got a figure out something he can do that no one can take away. And that’s why I want to be a lawyer.”

Needless to say, such monologues were cut when the movie was shown in the South. Despite strong reviews for his performance, Anderson never got another role with so much substance. But he continued working through the 1970s and died in 2011 at the age of 95.

#Clarence Muse #Rex Ingram #Ernest Anderson #Bette Davis #Warner Bros #Black actors #Hollywood Black #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #black representation #Susan King

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kelieah · 4 years

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an unexpected gift (tom holland x reader)

summary: tom gets an unforgettable and a long-awaited birthday gift

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive content, a TRIGGERING TOPIC struggling fertility! please don’t read if it’s a sensitive topic for you ❤️ (also i am here if anyone needs to talk, you’re not alone love)

edited: so this fic took me forever, and here i am posting two fking days after his bday 😭 with everything going on i hope this takes your mind off it for a milisecond, ily all. stay strong 🥺

a/n: i knowwww i know it’s his bday but i couldn’t help but add some angst jdsabfk anyways HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND we all love you so much hehe

masterlist

[05/29/20]

Your mind swirls with emotion as you wait patiently for what felt like the millionth time.

Please. Please. Please.

You thought to yourself as you pace around your bathroom. You inhale deeply and look down at the fifth pregnancy test you took in your trembling hands. Your eyes begin to blur with tears when you notice the two bright pink lines slowly appear in the little box. You let out a shaky sob, “O-Oh my god. Oh my god, thank you. Holy shit. T-Thank you,” you whimper happily.

You place the test aside, feeling as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You run your hands through your hair and back up against the bathroom door, sliding down to the floor. You feel your tears stream down your cheeks while a smile makes its way onto your face.

You and Tom have been married for about two years and been trying to have a baby for the past year. It’s been a rocky road of trial and error, medicines and doctors visits. Now, you both finally just received the most precious and priceless gift anyone could ask for.

You stand up taking a deep breath and close your eyes. This is what you and Tom have been waiting for, what you both have been hoping for. You finally got pregnant, after countless attempts. You didn’t expect it to happen so soon but you couldn’t be more grateful.

You breathe out, your lips quivering as you pick up the test once again. You think for a moment and add up the weeks in your mind. You’re about a week pregnant. You assumed the symptoms you were having were just PMS, but look where you are now. Pregnant. Unbelievable. It truly is a dream came true.

Tom wasn’t home yet because he’s been gone for press the whole day. You wanted to burst into some random interview Tom is in right now and tell him the news, but you’d rather plan something out for him. Especially since his birthday is coming up.

You walk over to your bedroom and pick up your phone, immediately calling your parents to tell them the news. Emotions were all over the place once you told them, their reactions similar to you finding out for the first time.

“I know. I know Dad,” you laugh weakly, wiping away some tears. “I love you, okay bye. I’m going to call Nikki.”

You feel yourself grow more excited, “Hi Mom,” you say as she picks up.

“Hello, sweetheart! I love it when you call. I hope Tom isn’t being a hassle,” she teases.

You giggle at her joke and pause for a moment before springing the big news on her. “Nikki, I’m p-pregnant,” you spill out, still in disbelief even though you already told your own parents.

“Bloody hell! Seriously!?” she cries out in joy, “Dom!” she yells, walking off with her phone.

You giggle, sniffing and swipe away tears that fell once again, “Yes, darling? What’s with the shouting,” Dominic comes into view.

“She’s pregnant, oh my she’s- they’re pregnant honey,” she hugs his arm.

His eyes widen as he gasps, “Congratulations Y/n! We know how long you and Tom have been trying, this is wonderful!”

“T-Thank you, I know,” you chuckle softly, “S-Speaking of Tom, I’ve been planning a lot for his birthday. So I was thinking you all should fly over from London, I may have already bought some tickets.”

“Y/n,” Nikki covers her mouth, “You didn’t have to.”

“Oh but I wanted to, I emailed you the tickets. Your flights leave tomorrow, I hope that gives you enough time.”

Before you found out you were pregnant, you already had a couple of plans for Tom’s birthday. To fly over his family, including Tess of course, and set up a surprise birthday party.

You debated if you should’ve invited any of his celebrity friends, but with the big news you know he would want to keep things more secluded. Which you completely understood. Memories of you and Tom getting together for the first time yet being outed to the media within weeks flooded your mind. Great times.

Tom hasn’t seen his family in a couple of months because he’s been recording and doing press here in America. Though you both live in LA, you two made sure to visit London frequently. Not only because you loved spending time there, but seeing his family was always so heartwarming and uplifting. His family is so kind and fun to be around just like him, you always felt right at home with them.

But to kill time, you thought why not mess with him a bit. You’re now waiting for Tom to come home from press, dinner time nearing. You sprawl out, stomach flat on the bed you share with Tom, scrolling through your phone mindlessly.

You let out a quiet gasp as you feel a weight on top of your body, “Hi my love,” he chuckles, lying on you.

“Hello, Tommy,” you hum, “Get off though, you’re squishing us,” you pout, shrugging him off.

He tilts his head and quickly gets off of you, sitting next to you, “Us?”

You cup your breasts, winking at him, “These girlies,” you joke.

“Oh woman,” he tackles you gently back on the bed.

“Excuse me?” you gasp dramatically, looking up at him as he pinned you down to the bed.

“You heard me, my woman. My beautiful, beautiful woman,” he teases. You give him a look and he leaves kisses along your jaw, “You know I’m only joking, my wife.”

“That’s better, Daddy,” you grin at the name, feeling like a giddy teenager for knowing something he doesn’t.

“Love, we haven’t even had dinner yet. You know what that name does to me,” he grumbles.

“Don’t be a big baby, I’m just teasing,” you peck his nose.

“Better be pretty girl, I missed you,” he sits up and lifts you onto his lap, “How are you doing?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” you rest your arms lazily on his shoulders, “I’ve already prepped dinner, do you want to help make it?”

“That would be lovely,” he presses his lips against yours which you kindly accept and kiss back.

[05/31/20]

“Thank you again, sweetie, you truly didn’t have to. We could’ve paid,” Nikki says pulling away from hugging you.

“Nonsense, it’s the least I could do for everything you all have done for us. Tom’s actually staying overnight at a hotel with the cast, so it’s perfect for us to get things ready,” you beam, smiling at the rest of Hollands.

After reuniting with his beautiful family and helping them settle into a nearby hotel, you all began to set up for his birthday.

“Hi Tessa,” you squeal, playing with her as she jumps around on you, “I know, you miss daddy? I miss him too,” you ruffle her head.

“Should this go over here?” Harry asks, lifting up a decoration to the wall.

“Yep, a little bit more to the side. Perfect,” you give him a thumbs up.

“Thanks, Mom,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, fanning him off, “Oh shush, Uncle,” you retort playfully.

You walk around helping everyone out and make sure things are in place. You walk over to the balcony to see Paddy leaning over the railings, “Hey Pads, everything okay?”

He smiles and looks back at you, “Oh yeah, it’s nothing,” he mutters quietly. You immediately catch him wiping away a tear and walk over, opening your arms up. He quickly hugs you, placing his head on your chest.

“Sweetheart,” you pout, rubbing his head, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I can’t believe I’m going to become an uncle,” he sniffles.

Your eyes soften and you run your hands through his hair, “An amazing uncle.”

“I’m only 15,” he huffs.

“Almost 16,” you remind him, shrugging. “I’ve seen younger uncles,” you reassure playfully making him chuckle.

“I’m so happy for you two, I know how much you both have been waiting for this,” he pulls away, wiping away more tears. “You know,” he sighs, looking back out at the city.

“Hm?” you lean on the railing with him.

“I know you know this already but, Tom really does love you. I remember how heartbroken he’d be after you both failed to become pregnant over and over again, he used to call us each time. His voice was almost gone, his eyes red and puffy. He felt so bad, he felt like it was his fault at times. Telling us how helpless and disappointed he felt,” he mumbles softly.

You look over at Paddy in bewilderment. Tom never told you that, and you assumed he tells you everything. “I didn’t,” you trail off your heart tightening at the thought of Tom in such a vulnerable state, “I didn’t know that Paddy, thank you for telling me that.”

“I think he might pass out when you tell him, no joke,” he smiles sadly.

You both look at each other for a moment and begin to giggle, “I’d actually love to see that.”

“Me too,” he snorts.

Both of your laughter dies down, you ruffle his hair for the last time, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Y/n?”

“Yep?”

“You two are going to be amazing parents.”

[06/01/2020]

“How was your night?” you smile, leaning against your bedrest looking at your tired husband through the screen.

“It was really fun, they wanted to celebrate for my birthday of course. So we drank a bit, got to know each other more and just messed around, it was a nice way to get close to the cast,” he yawns.

“That’s great, I’m glad you got to. My birthday boy must be exhausted, huh?”

He chuckles softly, “Sure am, one more recording today, and then I’ll be home before you know it,” he reassures. “All good babe, it’s just me and,” you look around your room, “Oh right, it’s just me,” you sigh dramatically. “Darling,” he whines, hugging a pillow to his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be Tommy, I’m only joking around of course. I love you. I can’t wait for you to come home, so we can have our own little celebration,” you wink.

He giggles and looks back at the camera, “I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you, seriously,” he mutters, watching you.

You blush underneath his gaze, “I could say the same.”

“No seriously princess, you’re so understanding and compassionate. Unbelievably amazing, an actual angel. I don’t even think you belong on earth, let alone with an earthling like me,” he bubbles happily.

You snicker quietly, “Okay, Peter Parker,” you tease making him roll his eyes, “Thank you though Tommy, I love you more. You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you. I have to go, see you later?”

“Yup. Forever and?”

“Ever.”

You end the call, tossing your phone aside and hop off the bed. You freshen up a bit and change into more suitable clothes.

You walk around your apartment, smiling softly at all the decorations you and his family had recently put up.

You call Sam and let him know that Tom’s coming home soon. He tells you they’re all on their way.

You tidy up a bit more and heat up some food. You open the door to the Hollands and smile, “Hello hello, again,” you let them inside.

They greet you once more and place presents in the living room. Dom pulls you aside, “How are you feeling, are you ready to tell him?” he asks.

You smile warmly and nod excitedly, “Definitely. I can’t imagine what his reaction is going to be like.”

“We can’t either,” he laughs, “So where do you want us to hide?”

About half an hour later Tom says he’s on his way home, so you look around doing a final check and smile in content.

You walk out to the balcony and check the corner to see them all bunched up together, “You all okay?” you ask.

“Yep,” Harry gives you a thumbs up, everyone else agrees.

“Are you gonna be quiet Tess?” you scratch underneath her chin as she walks up to you. She looks at you with curious eyes and you accept that as her response, “Good girl,” you kiss her forehead.

You check your phone and look up back up at them, “He says he’s five minutes away,” you chirp. They nod and you close the sliding door, walking back inside.

You feel your heart begin to race as you play out every reaction Tom could have. He could actually pass out, or maybe think it’s a joke? You have no idea, but nonetheless you were excited.

You jump at the sound of the door unlocking and opening, “Darling?” he calls out. You rush over to him before he comes inside, and tackle him into a hug.

He stumbles out into the hallway and holds you close, “Happy Birthday again,” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thank you again,” he kisses your cheek and squeezes your waist, “I have a feeling you’re hiding something my love,” he hums, trying to push past you.

“Well, it’s nothing big,” you move out of the way, letting him inside. You swear you see his eyes twinkle when he looks around the apartment.

“Nothing big? Babe,” he pouts and places down his baggage, “I love this so much, you’re adorable,” he opens his arms.

You bite your lip and close the door behind him, hugging him tightly, “Why don’t you freshen up a bit and meet on the balcony? You smell like hotel,” you joke, kissing at his earlobe.

“Alright alright, meet you out there,” he grabs his bags and walks over to your bedroom. You grin grabbing your camera and hide in the kitchen.

You wait about ten minutes and text Harry some quick updates. You hear Tom walk over to the balcony, sliding the door open. You instantly pop up and stealthily follow him while recording.

“Love?” he steps outside, looking around.

“Surprise!” his family shouts out.

He lets out a scream and holds out his fists in defensive. You all burst out in laughter and Tom immediately looks over at you, “Jesus, you guys!” he cries out.

He trips on the rug but makes his way over to them, hugging them tightly, “Happy Birthday sweetheart,” Nikki chirps, squeezing his arm.

“Thanks, Mum,” he smiles warmly, “Tessa! You’re here too?” he bends down, hugging her as she jumps into his arms, “How?” he pretends to sob happily.

“Your wonderful wife of course,” Sam motions over to you, while you smile proudly.

“Thank you all, seriously,” he stands up, hugging them all again.

“When you all are done reuniting, I think lunch is ready,” you hum, winking at Paddy who helped you prepare the meals beforehand.

Shortly after you all ate together and caught up, it was finally present time. You recorded as he opened up his family’s gifts for him.

“Alright alright, it’s my turn,” you pipe up, handing the camera to Paddy. Paddy grins happily and takes a step back to get you and Tom in the shot.

“I thought you bringing them here was my gift from you already?” Tom tilts his head.

“Of course not, there’s always more,” you roll your eyes playfully, calling Tessa over, “You should know me by now, c’mon.”

Tessa walks over with a gift bag in her mouth, sitting in front of Tom, “Tess! What a good girl, look at you,” he gently takes the bag and pets her admiringly.

He smiles at you and opens up the gift, he pulls out a little folded spider-man onesie. He assumes its for Tessa and laughs, “Don’t we already have one for Tess?”

“Oh yeah, true.”

He raises an eyebrow and opens it up more, examining it. His eyes widen and quickly darts over to you, “N-No.”

You feel your eyes gloss and you nod slowly, “Y-Yep.”

“Y-You’re not joking?” he walks over to you, falling to his knees.

You stifle a cry and cups his face, “D-Definitely not, look in the bag.”

He reaches over and pulls out another wrapped gift. He opens it up to see your pregnancy test in a bag, “Fucking hell,” he places it aside and hugs you close as you kneel down.

You feel him begin to tremble against you and your heart swells, “Tommy,” you sniffle, running your hands through his hair.

“You’re p-pregnant? W-We’re pregnant?” his voice wavers, tears spilling from his eyes.

You nod again, wiping away his tears, “Y-Yes we are,” you utter.

He holds you close and sobs into your neck. You look up at his family for a moment, chuckling in between cries noticing they’re crying with the both of you.

You whisper sweet nothings in his ear and rub his back, “You okay, bubby?” you sniff.

He nods and pulls away looking up at you, “M-More than okay,” he hiccups, smiling cheekily. “It’s the best bloody gift I could ever ask for,” he cups your cheek, wiping your tears away as well.

“It truly is,” you murmur softly. He stands you up and kneels down, placing his hands on your sides, “Tom?”

“Let me talk to my other b-baby girl or boy o-of course,” he blubbers, pressing a warm kiss against your stomach.

Everyone laughs including you, “I’m glad you didn’t faint, Paddy was betting you would,” you thread your fingers through his hair.

He glares at Paddy playfully as he places his face onto your stomach, “Of course he would.”

Paddy whines behind the camera making you both chuckle, “Tom, I’ve only been pregnant for a week,” you hum, looking back down at Tom.

“It’s my birthday, let me have my moment,” he replies sassily, hugging your waist closer.

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fractallogic · 3 years

Text

Hello I just woke up from a series of two upsetting dreams and I’m trying to collect myself

1) I was driving in the snow from *static* to somewhere called Sells in MississiGeorgia, which was conveniently like a cute tourist town exactly in the middle between wherever I was and where @paty-ofarrell lives now. HOWEVER, since it was snowing, it was also super icy and slippery and I was driving on unfamiliar roads, so my car gets launched like 50 feet in the air and I have to stop at a hotel much further away because I’m so freaked out. My mom, dad, and MCV come looking for me because I was apparently meeting all of them at slightly different times in this town, not just MCV, but my mom keeps missing the town by like hundreds of miles and just keeps driving to CO, dad is like I WILL GET YOU and then drives to PA instead, and MCV is like “buddy our hotel is literally across the street from where you stopped, but yeah, okay, I’ll come to you”

While I’m waiting for all this, I run into a childhood friend who’s also visiting and she’s thrilled and I’m like okay this is great but we … never talk??? and she’s like no but this is perfect, I’m here with my husband and you can meet him too! And we can get like a fun three-way going! Turns out her husband is Stanley. I tell MCV this and she’s like “…huh. Okay.” And then she comes over to my hotel room and I’m like LOOK THROUGH THE WINDOW at my childhood friend and Stanley across the courtyard and she’s like OH yeah I knew that. That sucks that I have to see them but oh well.

2) in dream time it’s like two days later, I feel like garbage, but I’m in a very large, very sparsely furnished apartment/Airbnb of some kind, in the same town as before. I find out somehow that actually, I’m pregnant and about to give birth. Scone suddenly appears, I explain to him and he’s like “…uhhh WELL okay then”. We realize we have a lot of shopping to do. Time shifts and we are back in this Airbnb with a “newborn” who looks like she’s about 6 mos old. Scone has to learn how to change her and take care of her, and his way of feeding her is slicing up a banana and spreading Nutella on half of the slices. TURNS OUT this child doesn’t like Nutella, so she happily eats the banana without it and then tries to scrape the Nutella off the other pieces and eventually gives up.

I’m like “well this sucks but I agreed to one child” and then I remember that no, NEITHER of us wanted kids, and I’m deeply upset because I’m like “now I’m going to be like my mom and just kind of resent having children and if I had children I would want to be a GOOD parent like my dad and that’s not going to happen now!!” And scone is like “well we could give up this one for adoption, and then we could go back to living a normal life!” And then I’m torn between the sunk costs/how people would judge us and how much better it would be if we just didn’t have to deal with having a child

Then my alarm went off, thank god.

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Can’t Stand It

For @ho-ne-ye.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan was having a bad day. Well, a bad week. Scratch that, a bad month.

It was March, a beautiful time out in the Arctic. For several weeks the Stan twins hardly ever saw the sun or didn’t see it at all. Closer to the holidays they traveled down south to Northern Europe, exploring the United Kingdom and the Northern Islands in order to enjoy daylight, but now that Summer was approaching and Spring was on their side, the Stan O’ War II was moving up to sail above Canada, breaking melting ice and meeting new creatures.

Today they had stumbled across an island covered in woods. The twins had docked to enjoy stable land, but of course it didn’t take long for them to stumble into trouble when they explored the island. Something about trespassing, Stan may or may not have been magically transformed into a small and cute version of himself, but then turned back to normal by a knocked-over potion. It was all a blur, and it all ended with Stan and Ford being tied together hanging over a raging fire as the clan of seal-people with war paint danced around them and singing a weird song.

Enough was enough. With a knife slipped out of a boot and a few left and right hooks, Ford and Stan managed to get away, now being chased by the angry clan and flying arrows. Stan dove on top of Ford to shield his brother from an arrow and they both scurried to their feet and ran deeper into the woods, heading for the beach, but their path was blocked by a giant monster, a half-spider, half-scorpion kind of creature with eight legs, pinchers, a sharp tail, four red eyes, and an angry kiss as it’s hairs vibrated.

Ford shot at it with his ray gun and that only made it angry. It dove for the six-fingered scientist, but Stan shoved him out of the way and soon Stan was thrown back to a tree and made very little attempts to get back up.

“STANLEY!” Ford cried out and shot at the monster again, this time hitting it in the eye. Temporarily blinded and distracted, Ford was about to grab a nearby spear thrown by a villager, pierce the monster, and leave it to bleed to death as he ran to his brother and knelt in front of him. “Stanley! Stanley, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

“M’fine, m’fine,” The old sailor mumbled as he blinked a few times. “Just lemme catch my breath…”

Ford noticed how he had a hand to his side. He gently prided it away and was horrified to find blood. The monster must have pierced Stan. In one swift motion the eldest by fifteen minutes scooped Stan up and began to carry him to the shore. “You’ll be okay. I’ll fix you up, I can fix this.”

His brother grunted in response, his hands loosely over his wound, but Stan was losing his strength. Ford then noticed a bead of blood dripping down the back of Stan’s neck; he must have also hit his head perfectly on the tree. Ford swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bobble, and he firmly instructed, “Stay with me, Stanley. Don’t go to sleep. You might have a concussion.”

“M’tired.” He muttered in his twin’s chest. They were close, so close to home. Ford’s boots crushed the sand beneath them.

“Stanley Pines, stay with me!” Ford shouted, ignoring the way his brown eyes stung.

“Why should I?”

Ford’s heart threatened to stop. Stan’s voice had been so quiet that he had nearly missed it, but the old scientist heard every word. The wounds didn’t look that bad, Stan would be fine, he was too tough to be taken down by some pathetic monster like that, but the fact that Stan was even considering…

“Wh-Why?!” Ford repeated, mortified by his brother’s delusional question. “Why?! Because I need you! Don’t you dare think about giving up on me, Stanley, don’t you dare! C-Come on, d-d-don’t you wanna see Dipper and Mabel again? Don’t you wanna see Soos marry that Melody girl?”

Stan’s breathing was shallow against his twin’s blue jacket. “You’d be better off…”

“NO!” Ford screamed as he saw the boat farther along the beach. He broke into a faster run. “No, we wouldn’t! I swear! Stay with me, we’re almost there!”

But Stan wasn’t answering. He was very quiet. And a bit limp in Ford’s hold.

“Stanley?! Stanley! Lee! Lee, don’t you dare give up! Don’t you dare leave me, please! I… I can’t do it!” He shut his eyes at the thought and let tears flow down his cheeks as he climbed up onto the Stan O’ War II. “I can’t lose you again. Please, don’t make me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t fair.

Stan should be perfectly fine, he should be happy. He got his brother back, he had a real family for the first time in forty years, he was living out his dream with his best friend. He wasn’t alien to feeling this cruddy about himself, but at least back then he had something to work towards, something to keep him going, and something to distract him from the voices in his head. But now his thoughts were more apparent now more than ever before and they wouldn’t go away.

The fact remained that everyone would be better off without Stan. He was a mistake, the screw-up, a criminal, a con-artist, a dirty sailor, a worthless heap of flesh. No one really wanted him around, and the people who did would soon get sick of him. Dipper and Mabel called them less and less (which to be fair they have been very busy with exams on the way). And even if it was Ford’s idea to go sailing, how long would it be before he changed his mind? Or had he really meant what he said? Or had he only said what he said because he felt guilty?

No. There was no changing the old man’s mind. Everyone would be better off without him.

He walked down the dock with his hands in the pocket of his brown trenchcoat, his boots clicking against the wood gently. It was bright and shiny and beautiful without it hurting his eyes or requiring sunglasses over his regular glasses. The sun glistened on the water and a soft breeze made him comfortable. The only odd thing was that there was only one boat.

A small boat, actually. It had a sail, like their dream boat as kids, with a cabin down in the bunkers. It was plain and clean and new, with a golden pole and rims on the windows. On it sat a young lady, about early-twenties, with short blonde hair. She was odd, wearing a white Hawaiian shirt with golden palm leaves, white shorts, and had a golden watch on her wrist as she filed her nails, reminding Stan of a secretary from high school. This girl was sitting on the boat with her legs crossed, sporting white sneakers, and hummed a familiar tune, though Stan couldn’t pinpoint it.

The girl glanced up at him, put her eyes back on her work, and called, “You coming?”

Stan shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. “Depends. Where you going, sweetie?”

“Well I’m hoping to grant a handsome sailor his wish, but it’s whatever.” The woman said as she held up her hand to look at her nails boringly.

Stan smiled cockily. “Oh yeah, how so?”

“You think everyone would be better off without you, right?” The woman stood and gestured to her boat. “Wanna see for yourself?”

Stan blinked. Okay this was weird. Was he on TV? He shook his head like a wet dog and scratched next to his red beanie. “Uh… ‘cuse me?”

“You heard me. Wanna see if you’re right?”

“How are you gonna show me if I’m right or not?” Stan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The woman sighed as she glanced at her watch. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so here’s how it’s gonna go. I’m gonna go sailing to a timeline in which you were never born. Ford never had a twin, Caryn and Filbrick only had two sons, et cetera and et cetera. Then we can talk about where we’ll go from there. But whether you’re coming or not, this boat is leaving in thirty seconds.”

Stan looked away from the woman, down at the sea crashing against the dock gently. This didn’t make any sense. This was like something out of a cheesy movie. He didn’t have to go with this girl and see a world without him in it, but it might answer some of his questions. He just wasn’t sure if he would get the answers he wanted. Oh well, it’s not like he had anything better to do.

“Ten seconds.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Stan shrugged and climbed up on board. “Set sail, Ms… Hey, what’s your name, anyways?”

“You can call me Honey.”

“Okay, Honey…”

“Oh my God, he called me honey…”

“Wait wut?”

“Time to go!” The woman grinned for the first time, a sly foxy smile with sparkling eyes and beautiful lips curled upward. She stood from her seat, pulled her sail loose, and it suddenly jetted across the sea so fast it threw Stan back and he had to catch himself from falling into the ocean, meanwhile the girl in all white stood perfectly calm.

“So, where we going?”

“I told you,” Honey said calmly. “We’re gonna go see what it would've been like if you had never been born.”

“Yeah, but where?”

“First stop, Gravity Falls.” The sea around them was fading into woods and trees and dirt, and soon the bot came to such a sudden stop that Stan was thrown to the other side and sat his head on a pinetree, growling as he stood up straight on the sailboat and rubbed his forehead.

Stan looked around and recognized the woods. Yup, this was definitely Gravity Falls, but… something was off. It was gray and cloudy overhead. And they were in front of a big open patch of woods Stan had never seen before.

“What is this place?” Stan asked as he hopped off the sailboat in the mud.

“Gravity Falls.”

“I know that! I mean… I’ve never been here before.”

“Yes you have.” The woman said as she got off her ride and stood beside the old sailor. “You lived here for thirty years in another timeline.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “No… Is this where the Mystery Shack’s supposed to be?”

“You got it.”

“But…” Stan was racking his brain, thinking. “What, did Ford never come here? Cuz he went to that West Coast Tech school he never came here?”

“Nope. Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, which means no Mystery Shack.”

“I always thought there’d be a big mansion here or something.” Stan shrugged and said, “Okay, so there’s no rundown tourist trap. Big deal.”

“Eh, so you think.” Honey started to walk into the woods, giving no invitation for Stan to follow, making it easier for the conman to do so. “Do you remember what this town was like before the Shack?”

Stan shrugged with his hands in the pocket of his trenchcoat. “Not much. Just a bunch of paranoid weirdos who needed a good laugh.”

They emerged from the woods and Stan gasped at the town. It was even more worn down and cheap than it had been when Stan came thirty years ago. Broken windows were boarded up, pavement was cracked, and either ketchup or blood was splattered here and there.

“Whoa hey, what happened?” Stan asked as they left the woods and walked through the town, shouts and coughs being heard in the distance. “I know this place is a dump, but not this much of a dump.”

“Stan, do you really think your business was the only one to succeed due to the tourists coming in?” The woman in white asked. “What about the motels? Diners like Greasy’s? Stores and gas stations? All those out-of-state tourists didn’t just give money to the Shack. You’d be surprised how much one tourist trap helps the economy of one struggling town.”

“Okay, sure, but there’s no way the Shack helped out the town this much.” Stan argued, gesturing around them lazily.

“No, you’re right. Really, the town didn’t hit hard times until about five years ago.”

“Why…”

Screeching tires interrupted the old man. He and Honey watched as a very nice, rich-looking pick-up truck spun around the corner and came to a sudden stop in front of a grocery store. Stan’s jaw dropped to the pavement as he watched someone he barely recognized get out of the passenger’s seat.

Soos had a black baseball cap on backwards, wearing a cold, spiky, black-leather jacket, torn jeans, and a gothic, graphic t-shirt. His eyes were so cold and menacing, he seemed a bit taller due to holding himself up with so much pride, and when he snapped his fingers and pointed to the grocery store, five guys emerged from the truck and raided it like it was the end of the world.

“S-Soos?!” Stan gasped. “Soos, what are you doing?!” But he was ignored.

“No one can see or hear us, Stanley.” Honey said as they watched Soos’ gang drag a cashier out by her long hair and began to pumble her just because they could. Soos did nothing to stop it, even smiled a little as the girl screamed for help.

“I don't get it… Soos is a good kid! He’d never hurt a fly! Why in Moses’ name is he…” Stan couldn’t finish the sentence. He was frighteningly reminded of the Colombian gang he was once under.

“Oh, c'mon sweetie, connect the dots. Who do you think taught Soos to be a good kid?”

“His abuelita did.”

The woman chuckled and shook her head. “She tried, but as he got older it really began to hurt that his dad didn’t wanna be around him. And cuz you weren’t there to tell him otherwise… let’s just say high school never happened for him.”

“What?!”

“He dropped out of school in the eighth grade and joined a small gang outside of town. Eventually he made his way up the ranks and now his little gang terrorized the bottom half of Oregon.”

“B-But why?! All cuz I wasn’t there?” Stan asked, shaking his head. “There’s no way…”

“Stanley, who do you think taught him that he was worth something? Who taught him how to stand up for himself and give bullies left hooks? Who had him put all of his energy into hard work?”

Stan stared at his pretty tour guide. There was no way Stan did all that, no way. Sure, he liked the kid a lot, but he never actually thought he impacted Soos’ life this much. Stan looked back at this horrible version of Soos as his gang loaded the car with food and cash and they sped off, leaving the woman to bleed on the sidewalk and wipe the blood from her lips.

“C’mon,” Honey said and gestured onward. “We’ve got more people to see.”

“Okay so,” Stan followed her and racked his brain. Surely somebody benefited from him not being alive. “What about Wendy? Is she still around?”

“Nope. Without you to give her a job here in town, she had to move upstate to her cousin’s lodge, remember? She had to leave all of her friends behind and she was miserable. Still is, actually. Very quiet gal. Doesn’t say or do much.”

“Wendy? Quiet? I don’t believe you.”

The woman opened a door to a shop, but instead of the inside of the building they saw a black-haired Wendy sitting on her bed in her new room, criss-crossed, holding her pillow as she listened to depressing heavy metal.

Stan winced. “Yikes. She turned into a real Robbie.”

“That kid joined Soos’ gang, BTW.” The woman said as she closed the door.

Stan was having a hard time buying the idea that nobody actually got some good out of him not being around. "Wh-What about that lil' troll? Gideon?"

Honey snorted and led the way through town. As they walked, Stan was having a hard time buying this scenario. There was no way he made this much of a difference. Okay, sure, if he not being alive meant Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, and that meant Gravity Falls changed a bit, Stan could understand that, but there was no way this town turned for the worst all because Stan wasn’t there. There was no way the screw-up actually made things better. Right?

“Here we are.” The woman said to snap Stan out of his thoughts.

The car dealership looked mostly the same. A little more run-down, sure, and there was no Tent of Telepathy in sight, but Bud still wore that stupid straw hat with a baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and tan pants, but he didn’t look quite right, either. Heavy bags were under his eyes, looking a bit more like his wife, and the little bit of hair he had was graying a bit too early. He waved his customer goodbye with a smile, but the second they were gone he sighed tiredly and was frightened by a window being shattered by a rock.

“DADDY! GET OVER HERE!”

“Oh, boy.” Bud steadied himself and went back to the house.

“Hey, how come the little jerk’s business isn’t booming?” Stan asked, more interested as to why his biggest competitor wasn’t flourishing in a town that needed someone to believe in. “He’d do great here! He could’ve used his little camera to tell people when S-... when the gang was gonna strike, or…”

“Stanley, sweetie, how do you think Gideon started that tent?”

“I dunno, he decided to use his cuteness to get some cash?”

“Not quite. For a few years he was just a bratty kid, but then he found a journal in his playground full of mystical objects, including a magic bow-low tie. It was that journal that made him think of telepathy. Even if he was fake, it was Journal 2 that inspired him.”

“Okay, okay,” Stan held his chin. “So with no me there’s no Ford in Gravity Falls which means no journals which means no Tent of Telepathy. Fine, but the twerp’s gotta be a better person without that spooky book making him think he’s all powerful.”

The woman in white laughed and pointed to the house. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? See for yourself.”

Stan walked up to the broken window and was mortified at the state of the house. Stains everywhere, chipped and torn furniture, cracked walls, torn carpet, and in the midst of it all was a ten-year-old lying on his stomach on the couch, banging his fists and kicking like a toddler as he screamed horribly. Stan winced, but then was completely thrown off to find Gideon’s hair not white and up Dolly Parton-style, but orange and cut short.

“I WANT IT, I WANT IT, I WANT IT!” Gideon screamed as if he was being murdered.

His poor mother was against the wall, holding her heart and breathing heavy; Stan noticed the signs of an anxiety attack.

Bud slowly approached his son and tried to calm him down. “Now, sugar pie, please…” But the human beaver was kicked in the jaw, leaving a bruise and making him bite his lip so hard he bled. Bud held his mouth as Gideon continued to scream.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU NEVER GIMME ANYTHANG I WANT! WHY YA HAVE TO BE SO STUPID?!”

“Yikes, how did not being possessed by a freaky journal make him worse?” Stan asked Honey as they walked away from the house. “I don’t get it.”

“Sure, Gideon wasn’t the best kid before the journal, but at least with the journal he had something to work towards, something to put all of his energy into, and he also had you.”

“M-Me?”

“Don’t you remember the first time you met him?”

“Yeah, he took my parking spot with that stupid van.”

“Actually, you met once before.” Honey chuckled as they walked back into the woods. “You were both at the grocery store when he was four. He was with his mom, bouncing in the buggy and demanding for candy. She gave in just to keep him quiet and tuned to pick some milk. You were across the aisle, picking orange juice, when Gideon dropped his chocolate bar while trying to open it. You noticed the candy and the boy making grabby hands at you and the candy, but you grinned, said ‘no’ firmly, picked up the chocolate…”

“... and ate it right in front of him!” Stan laughed. “I had forgotten… I didn’t know that was Gideon! I thought that was just some spoiled brat.”

“Well, it was. You were the first and only person who ever told that boy ‘no’, the only person who really challenged him and pushed him. Thanks to you, he channeled his anger and energy into trying to take you and the Shack down. But without you around to push him, he had no way to get his energy out, except his parents.”

Stan looked down at the dirt and they stopped walking for a second. “This… This doesn’t make any sense.”

“How so?”

“I’m just a screw-up!” Stan argued as he looked back up at the woman. “I’m the twin no one wanted! I’m just some loser of a conman! It doesn’t make sense that a guy like that could… it… there’s gotta be somebody to benefitted from me not existing! What about Lazy Susan? With no Mystery Shack that means no lazy eye, right?”

“Actually, Soos’ gang raided the diner and it ended badly when Susan stood up to them.” Honey winced. “She ended up not only losing her job, but her eye, too.”

Stan swore under his breath. “Fine… What about that McGucket dude? His life’s gotta be better than living at the dump with his mind all jacked up.”

The woman shrugged and led the way deeper into the woods. “Barely. C’mon, we’re going to Tennessee.”

Stan followed the mysterious tour guide back to the sailboat and this time properly braced himself for the sudden speed. Very suddenly they were racing along the sea, colors swirling by them, until they stopped very suddenly on a river. Stan’s jaw dropped to see a huge, beautiful mansion up on the hill by the river. The woman parked the sailboat by the dock and they started to walk up to the rich house, passing a weeping willow with a stone bench with a big crack in the middle.

“This is McGucket’s place?” Stan clarified.

“You got it, genius.” Honey gestured to the six horse stables, the lush garden, all of the nice cars and wagons, and at just how huge and nice and rich the mansion was. “Fiddleford still went to Backupsmore and met his wife, Emma May, and with no Ford to ask for help on a portal, Fiddleford became the inventor of not only person computers, or what’s commonly called laptops, he became the founder of the largest tech company in the country, Berri.”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out one of those smartphones the kids had, except the back had a little strawberry with a bite in it. “They went on to invent the first cell phone, BerriWatch, and right now they’re testing a self-driving car. Fiddleford found himself with more money than he knew what to do with and after he built his family their dream home, which by the way is the richest house in Tennessee, he simply expanded his company and made historical international deals. He’s also made huge donations to small run-down towns, like the one he grew up in, to create jobs and try to help out their economies.”

“Cool, okay, see.” Stan said with a smile, impressed by this hillbilly’s success. “One person got a good deal from me not being around.”

Honey rocked her hand side to side and led the way around the mansion, walking alongside the clear open space, passing the weeping willow and bench to move around the hill. “Just cuz he was successful doesn’t mean he was better off. Don’t forget, Fiddleford was never the greatest at handling his stress well. He invented that Memory Gun because Ford accidentally inspired him to, saying scientists have a way of creating solutions to their problems. So with no way to forget his stress and anxiety, Fiddleford drank to forget how worried he was about losing his company if he made a bad deal or if his newest invention or work or if he was putting out a good public face.”

“No.” Stan shook his head. “That goody two-shoes? No way.”

“Hey, he grew up around moonshine, he just couldn’t get his hands on it when he was living at the dump.” The woman shrugged and they came upon a stone pathway and walked down it to a small flower garden that formed a circle. “Anyways, Fiddleford was never violent, thank goodness, but he was drunk more than he was sober. He should be happy, with a wife and son and booming business to boot, but he wasn’t. He fell into depression and drank until he ended up here.”

Stan looked ahead and felt the wind get knocked out of him. There was a flat tombstone in the middle of the circle of flowers. He knew what was on there, but he still slowly approached to read what the stone said. “Fiddleford H. McGucket. 1956-2011. The angels now sing a whisky lullaby.”

Stan backed away, backing up farther than the woman was, shaking his head and even punching his forehead as he tried to think. “This… This doesn’t make any sense! Their lives were supposed to get better without me, not worse!”

“Stanley…”

“The kids!” Stan gasped and looked up at Honey. “Where are the kids?!”

The woman looked sober and she gestured back to the sailboat to go to their next stop. “Back in California.”

Stan was anxious the whole trip, though it only took a minute to get where they were going, but soon they were on the side of the road in front of a middle school. Stan watched on the boat as the bell rang and kids started pouring out. He kept his eyes peeled for his kids and he grinned at the sight of two brown-haired twins.

Dipper wore a long-sleeved blue flannel over his orange t-shirt to go with his gray pants. He still had bags under his eyes and he still had that lucky star hat to hide his birthmark, slouching a little with his backpack, but he was still here, a brilliant thirteen-year-old. Stan was a bit worried to see him looking so down and upset, but both men soon smiled as a young girl skipped out of the school.

Mabel had her long hair up with a scrunchie today and kept back with a headband, still wearing her sweaters, today wearing leggings with her skirt, and she grinned at her twin and punched his shoulder before hugging him. “Hey bro bro! Wanna go to the arcade today? I hear they got some new prizes!”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“There, you see.” Stan sighed with relief as he watched the kids walk down the sidewalk, passing the boat. “They’re fine, they’re happy. They still got each other.”

Just then, some big buy came around the corner and bumped elbows with Dipper, making Stan’s nephew stop, and the bully shoved him onto the concrete.

“Dipper!” Mabel cried out and looked ready to punch the bully, but a guy came up behind her and grabbed her around the arms, pinning her. Another guy joined the bully and they cracked their knuckles as they gazed down at their prey.

“If it isn’t the best punching bag in town.” The bully sneered. “Feel like fighting back today, Dipstick. It’s no fun having a sparring partner that doesn’t fight back.”

Dipper growled and made a flimsy attempt to stand and punch his opponent, but the bully grabbed his wrist and punched him in the gut and kicked him down, leaving poor Dipper to huddle on the sidewalk while the two bullies hammered on him and Mabel fought to be free and help but was powerless against her capture.

“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HE-” And Mabel’s mouth was covered, but she still wiggled and screamed.

Stan couldn’t watch anymore. He had purposely waited to give the kids a chance to fight back, but sometimes you just need a little help. “I’M COMING!”

“Stanley!”

Stan jumped off the boat and ran to the kids to pull the bully off his niece and scoop her into his arms, but his arms went right through them. He frantically tried to shove the bullies off his nephew, but again his body went right through them, like he was a ghost.

The woman stood by his side and said calmly, “I told you, no one can see or hear or feel us.”

“I can’t just stand by and do nothing!” Stan yelled at her face.

“Why not? Everyone else has. No one had ever taught them how to fight back when the world fights them, except…”

“Me.” Stan finished for her with a sigh. He made himself watch as the bullies continued to beat Dipper up, finally stopping after the ring leader kicked him in the jaw, and Mabel was let go as they ran off to celebrate their victory.

Mabel crawled to her twin’s side and checked over his injuries as he carefully sat on his knees. “Dipper! Dipper, are you okay? What hurts? Show me what hurts.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” He whined as Mabel touched his swollen eyes and busted lips. Dipper spat out a tooth and held his chest. “I think… I think they cracked a rib.”

“Let’s go home.” Mabel carried his backpack for him and had him lean on her as they wimped onward. “Mom can look at it and take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan said as he watched his kids walk away. “They’re good kids! Isn’t anyone gonna stand up for them?! What about their parents?! What about their friends?!”

“They don’t have any friends.” Honey said sadly as they watched the twins. “The only friends they had ever made were in Gravity Falls, which they had never visited cuz there was no family there. And Shermie taught your nephew to keep your head down to stay out of trouble, which he’s trying to teach his kids. Unfortunately, it isn’t working out for them, and what used to be bad nicknames and gum in their hair has escalated to fights and notes to kill themselves.”

Stan bit his lip. Not those kids. Not his kids. He wanted to believe things would get better for them, but if no one taught them that they were worth something, that they could stand up for themselves, he didn't have much hope and he didn’t dare ask what their future looked like. But something didn’t sit right…

“Shermie,” He muttered without looking at the woman, still looking ahead. “Y-You said he taught his kid to keep his head down.”

“I did.”

“Why would he do that?” Stan asked. “I mean, sure he’s always been a lame square, but that’s really bad advice, even for him. He taught me and… He taught Ford to stand up for himself. Crampelter was terrified for weeks when Shermie found out he had been breaking Ford’s fingers.”

“He and Ford didn’t see much of each other.” Honey answered quietly.

Something clicked in Stan’s head. While all of this was interesting or whatever, there was only one person that Stan truly believed was better off without him. His better half, the genius, the loved son, the author of the journals, the criminal of the multiverse. His brother. Stan turned to her and asked quietly, “Where’s Ford?”

For the first time, the woman looked scared. She looked away and said, “You don’t wanna know.”

“Yes I do!” Stan bellowed and grabbed the woman by the shoulders. “Please! Where’s my brother?!” This gal had been scaringly quiet about the one person Stan cared the most about.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Stanley, let’s just get back on the boat…”

“Only if you take me to see my brother! Where. Is. Stanford?!” Stan demanded darkly, his eyes pleading the woman to make his request.

The woman sighed and Stan let her go.

They slowly got on the boat and it zipped to the docks of Glass Shard. Stan blinked a few times at being back to where he grew up for the first time in forty years. Dark clouds covered the sky. Not much had changed throughout the years, but why on Earth was Ford still here? They hopped off and planted their feet on the sand, and Honey led the way as she spoke.

“Stanford was still born with six fingers on each hand. Your mother tried to assure him that it only made him special, but Filbrick did a good job of making it clear that that wasn’t the case, and things only got worse when he went to school. You weren’t there to beat up bullies, you weren’t there to tell him that he was special, you weren’t there to help him dream of a future where they would sail away and he’d be free.”

“Yeah but Ford was always a little genius.” Stan interrupted as they left the sand for dirt, the beach slowly turning into a small patch of woods. “He’d win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees and then at least Pa was okay with acknowledging that they were related.”

“But Stanford didn’t win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees.” Honey corrected sadly. “Stanley, you were the only person in his childhood that made him think that he was actually worth something. You were the only one who made him shoot for the stars and believe that he was worth keeping around. Without you to give him confidence, Stanford never expressed his intelligence and therefore never allowed it to grow at all. He did okay in school, but he wasn’t the top student. He never participated in science fairs of sleeping bees or math competitions because he didn’t have enough confidence to put himself out there. Sure he was smart, but teachers weren't going bananas over him because no one, not even himself, knew his potential.”

It started to rain, but of course the two didn’t feel it or were affected by it. “So… he didn’t go to West Coast Tech?” Stan dared to ask as they walked deeper down the dirt path, oblivious to where they were as he was thinking this through.

“No.”

“But… I thought you said he did.”

“No, I said he never moved to Gravity Falls. He never felt home.”

“So… what happened to him? What did Ford end up doing with his life?”

Honey bit his lip and refused to meet Stan’s eye. They walked on and Stan finally realized where they were. He felt ready to throw up. He waited for his guide to speak.

“Much like Dipper and Mabel, things only got worse as he got older. He got to a point where Stanford was stealing Filbrick’s boos and he even started to hurt himself. It wasn’t enough. It was all too much for him. He… He…”

“No.” Stan’s voice cracked and he was terrified when the woman stopped and motioned to a tombstone that laid among the others in this graveyard. “No! You’re lying! He wouldn’t! He didn’t!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry, Stanley.”

Stan finally made himself read the rock. He fell to his knees at the words that shined through the rain. “Stanford Filbrick Pines. 1956-1970.”

“NO!” Stan screamed and punched the ground beneath him as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “NO! HE WOULDN’T! HE DIDN’T!”

“Ma found him dangling from the ceiling. She was never the same after losing her baby.” Honey croaked. “He was only fourteen.”

“NO!” Stan shook his head as he ignored how wet his cheeks and eyes were now. “NO! He… He… He never needed me. He never wanted me around.”

“Yes he did.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stanley, listen.” The woman said firmly behind him. “You said it yourself that family needs each other. I know it’s hard to believe that you’re actually worth something when there’s a dozen voices in your head telling you otherwise, but just like how you need them, your family needs you. Your brother needs you.”

Stan listed his fists up from the dirt, his eyes on the tombstone without seeing. “I… I just thought he’d be… they’d be better off I hadn’t been around.”

“No one knows for sure how they change things or how much they really impact others. But you do. And even if you forget all of this, you know your family loves you enough to tell you that they need you.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, but what’s keeping them from saying that outta pity?”

“You can’t let yourself think like that, Stanley, you just can’t.” Honey said firmly. “Your family loves you. Stanford loves you. He needs you, and if you don’t believe me, just take a look at what he’s like when you’re gone.”

“Wait what?”

Honey got on her knees beside him and showed him her golden watch. The face changed to a scene, like a tiny TV, and Stan started to find Ford back at the Stan O’ War II, kneeling beside his injured twin who laid more dead than alive on the couch. With tears streaming down his face Ford was wrapping a bandage around Stan’s head and feeling his heartbeat and checking that the bandages around his torso were well and secure.

“Stanley, Stanley please,” Ford begged as he took Stan’s hand and squeezed it. “Please don’t leave me. I need you, the kids need you. Please.”

“Whoa hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Stan said, but then his eyes grew wide and he looked up at Honey. “Am I?”

“I dunno.” She asked as she lowered her arm and smiled at him. “Do you wanna go?”

“Go where?”

Honey chuckled. “On.”

Stan blinked at her. “No. No, I don’t. If… If that knucklehead really wants me around, then I’ll stay.”

Honey blinked her eyes dry and stood up. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll get you home.”

Stan stood up and followed her back to the boat. “By the way, honey, why’d you do all this for me? What, wanted to earn your wings?”

“No, this was pure self-indulgent.”

“Wait wut?”

~~~~~~~~~~

His head hurt. His side ached a little, but his head really hurt. That didn’t matter. He had no idea why, but he had to see his brother.

Stan forced his eyes open and found his vision blurry thanks to his glasses being folded on the end table. He smiled when he saw that Ford had fallen asleep by his side, kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand, and resting his head face-first into his own folded arms. Outside it was dark, which could mean it was seven in the morning of seven at night, given the fact they were up in the Arctic.

The younger, injured twin, snorted at his brother, which made the aged scientist sit up too quickly for it to be wise, wide awake, with his hair in a gray floof and his red eyes wide and alert.

“Stanley! Thank Moses!” He cried out and stood up to better look over him. “How do you feel? Any pain? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Calm down, Sixer,” Stan chuckled weakly as he slowly tried to sit up, sensitive to the wound on his side. “My head hurts, but I’ll be fine with some painkillers, and you’re holding up two fingers like some dumb hippy.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Ford hugged him around his shoulders tightly as his whole body trembled. “I know you showed no signs of a concussion and your wound is not nearly as bad as it could have been, but i didn’t know for sure if you would pull through or what I would do without you and…”

“Geez, relax, it’s okay, Stanford.” Stan shushed as he hugged him and rubbed his back. “M’fine, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Ford said firmly and sat back, a hand still on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think for a second that I don’t want you here with me, Stanley. I need you.”

“Yikes, where’s all this sappiness coming from, eh?”

Ford blinked at his twin and said slowly, “Y-You said you thought I’d be better off without you…”

Stan waved that away. “Ah, you say stupid stuff when you hit your brain too hard. I swear, Sixer, you’re stuck with me, as long as you’ll have me, anyways. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t kill yourself out here.”

Ford chuckled tiredly and shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right. Now do we have any stew left? I’m starving.”

#GF #fanfiction #gravity falls #gift #stan pines #ford pines #angst #nothing but angst #and a little fluff #maybe #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT HONEYE!!!#LOVE YOU!

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grunklefidds · 3 years

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an unfinished stanley-centered same coin fic that has been sitting in my phone since around new year's (i'm happy with what's there of it, it just cuts off abruptly and i don't think i'll be adding to it any time soon). enjoy

1.2k words, only significant warnings are for recurring discussion of self-loathing, some unreality/depersonalization as relevant to the theory, not particularly detailed mentions of violence, and a good sprinkling of cursing

stanley dreams of burning. flames hot enough to burn blue licking around him until theres none of him left.

he thinks the first time he told ford he really was a bad kid they were seven or eight. ford told him that he was wrong. stan gave him a noogie and they laughed it off.

he doesn't remember most of his dreams. still he often wakes up feeling like he's just got away with murder.

lying on his brother's bed with snow eddying outside the window, stanley was distantly aware that if he shifted to lie on his side, the fresh burn on his shoulder would hurt less. he didn't move. a fuck-up like him didn't deserve small comforts.

he burns up into nothing that night.

the phrase 'self-esteem' wasn't really present in stan's vocabulary until well after he'd got settled in to life as mr. mystery. talking about that sort of things with kids was not in style when he and ford were young, and for the first decade or so of adulthood he was too busy surviving to really give it any thought.

dreams are strange things, anyway. sometimes you do awful, awful things in them, as if watching yourself do it, any sense of horror completely absent. surely you'd never really do that! if all the people in your dreams are really you, if the you in your dreams is really you, then you must be some sort of monster, right?

stan tried to get in on the self help game back in '78: it seemed like an easy grift. when he found some junk workbook called SHAME 'N' YOU at a garage sale the first year he was in gravity falls, he dismissed it as more of the same. he still slipped it into his jacket. good for spare toilet paper if nothing else.

dreams of fire mix with dreams of him trapped in a colorless motionless place. it feels like home.

stan didn't like sleeping much in that first year or two working on the portal. at night he would sit in the kitchen desperately trying to understand the physics books he got at the library, alternating coffee and vodka, rather than sleep. he certainly didn't deserve to rest, not until he could clean up his mess. it only seemed fair.

occasionally among the dreams of fire and stifled screams there's feelings of comfort. some are memories of old hijinks with sixer but out of order with the colors brighter and warmer, and some are pink flashes of a sense of being protected. stan remembers these as little as he remembers the flames.

he found the phrase 'negative self-talk' not in the first book from the garage sale, but a similar one a few years later. stan scoffed at the concept. how could thinking that shit be a problem if it was all true?

his dreams are a bit less remarkable once the little guy starts working around the shack. it's nothing stan notices at the time, nothing abrupt, but dreams about ice cream goats and missing deadlines for high school english papers begin to slip in among the flames. some he even remembers. they leave him less exhausted in the morning.

at some point, despite the years of headache and frustration, it started to feel like stan was making good progress on the portal. it was satisfying, mastering all the nerd junk he picked up from books well enough to get the damned thing rumbling again. he wouldn't let himself feel proud of it, but 'accomplished' might be in reach once his brother was back.

his dreams are all over the place while the little ones are there. vivid memories of glass shard beach, flames a brighter blue than theyve been all his life, and horrifying sequences of him hurting the children in impossible ways. the traces of them leave his heart racing in the first moments after waking up.

having the young twins around the house made things a hell of a lot livelier. between getting general weird feelings from them reminding him of his brother and going out of his mind with worry when they didn't manage to hide whatever magical death trap they'd found that day, stan hadn't worked this hard at keeping a poker face since the 80s, at least.

dreams of happy days on the beach mix with ford looking at him with fear and shoving him onto a scorching stovetop. during the day, watching the kids smack each other with empty paper towel tubes, he recognizes the feeling in his gut as jealousy.

soos got on fantastically with the twins. stan was thrilled to see the three joking together, and tried to quash any fuzzy feelings over it. surely he was glad to have a load off while another adult (the big goober being over twenty still felt strange) could watch out for them. ...he could think more about who exactly he could call his family once he allowed himself to rest.

his dream the afternoon that gideon broke in is strange even for him. his memory of it fades as quickly as most of them do, but during it he's distinctly aware of someones other than him in his mind. some of them feel comfortably familiar- the kid he'd watched grow up and the kids he'd like to- and one feels terrifyingly familiar. he desperately tries to reach them, manages to pat dipper on the back, and is awake in what feels like seconds.

the day that the shack's deed was stolen, stan felt like he hit rock bottom yet again. of course he put on a strong face (out of courtesy) for the kids, and for soos (who probably knew better by now), and for soos' grandmother (who still intimidated him a little), but it was damned hard. thirty years of blood, sweat and tears over that machine, and a flimsy piece of paper with his brother's signature was still all there was keeping him off the street. all that work, added up to nothing. he couldn't help but see it as some kind of confirmation.

his dreams about jail are never pleasant. they're never true to life (though his memories of it are bad enough): something always twists partway through into some vast structure or impossibly tight space. they make him wake up nervous and ashamed.

he wouldn't say it to anyone, but stan loved cooking for other people. part of it was that he only ever ate enough to keep him moving when he was living alone (even well after things had settled in the shack). if it was for someone else, he actually thought about what the food would taste like, and, shockingly, he usually enjoyed it more. stan discovered this a while after soos started working there, but having the kids actually living at the house (not just there after school or whenever soos wanted to come over before his shift started), he was getting a lot more practice. it was nice.

stan dreams of being small and exhausted. he's giddy, he hasn't had an opportunity like this in decades- no, centuries! he runs around banging into every sharp object he can find, gleeful to have a new sucker to discard. the glee barely fades as the blue flames burn him out to wakefulness.

he makes bacon and eggs for breakfast.

later that day, he saw mabel stitching a sock puppet with her own face. he raised an eyebrow, but when she grinned at him he smiled back.

#stanley pines #same coin theory #gravity falls fic #dont @ me abt the changes in tense it is on purpose #i think i originally wanted this to go a little beyond what the finale covers but i forgot abt it -_____- sorry #p #stanley

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thecrimsonjaguar · 4 years

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A Short List of Adventure Time AUs

So I got a google doc of adventure time aus I’ve made over the past two or three years. Here are some of my favorites (and also the ones I came back to and edited)

If you’ve got ideas for an au or ideas to add onto the preexisting ones I’ve got here, please tell me! I’m always up for some au discussion.

1.) Jermaine AU: Jermaine comes to live at the treehouse after his house blows up. This, unlike canon, happens rather early in season 3. The rest of the series mainly stays the same, except this time there's three brothers instead of two. He's a kinda anxious dude with demon hunting expertise and a painting hobby. He sometimes wonders if he made Dad disappointed by letting all his work explode. Finn and Jake help him out, and he helps them. Despite this, Jermaine is the only one with a brain, and Finn and Jake share exactly one (1) braincell that they trade every so often. Jermaine is tired. (Jermaine is the only one who tries to clean regularly, and he's also the one to keep Neptr, Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant, and a few others company. He's a bit of real wisdom the early series Finn and Jake needed.

2.) Melted Ice AU: Mid season two, IK is hit with something that de-ages him. He turns six. Maybe this mystery de-aging thing blows up the top of the ice mountain, who knows. Maybe he wakes up in the snow, with no memory of how he got there or why. No memory of the last one thousand years. Finn and Jake don't know about his backstory since that happens in season three. Simon is carried by a snowman out of the ice kingdom where he breaks down in the plains. Finn, of course, finds him and is ecstatic to meet another human. Completely missing the fact that this small child is, in fact, the Ice King, Finn declares to help this boy no matter what. That promise soon becomes difficult when people hear about the second human in Ooo, and whatever effect that's keeping him young starts to wear off. (Marceline comes to visit and has a heart attack)

3.) Adventure Falls AU: AT x GF baybee!! Seventeen year old Stanley Pines hops on the Stan O' War and sets sail when he's kicked out. Unfortunately, that boat is nowhere near sea worthy, and all it takes for him to go overboard is one sudden (magical) storm. But, miraculously, Stan doesn't die. He washes up on Ooo, the island of misfits. Where there's daddy issues galore and punching things and getting gold is a legitimate career. He's found on the shore by none other than Finn, who asks if he's okay and if a dungeon adventure would soothe his worries. Stan accepts, because that sounds awesome, and they maybe date. For the next ten years, Stanley is a professional hero. He travels with Finn, he lives in a tower with tons of gold, he's respected, adored, and has made a family for himself. Ooo has a habit of forcing traumatic therapy onto to people, so Stan gets (read: is forced) to work his issues out. And then, somehow, he gets a postcard from his brother.

4.) Young Pups AU: Jake's kids grow up fast- but not that fast. He stays with lady for a few episodes being Dad and when the Pups are old enough, go visit Finn and Jermaine. Also Jermaine is there when the pups are born that always bothered me in canon like what the fuck. This whole AU results in Jake the Dad being a better father than in canon, because he actually has time to make mistakes and learn from them. He sometimes shapeshifts into one of those baby carriers but suited for five kids instead of one. Finn and Jermaine fight for best uncle privileges. Finn is considerably more awesome but Jermaine's got magic junk and juicy stories about Jake. So far the votes are: FINN: Jake Jr, T.V. JERMAINE: Kim Kil Whan, Charlie. Viola remains undecided.

4.) Evilgreen AU: Evergreen was evil. His idea to make the crown to stop the comet was actually a cover story to take control of all the elements and freeze everything. Of course the same thing happens here as it did in canon, Gunther gets the crown and wishes to *be* evergreen. This is bad. Very bad, so bad in fact, that things get FUnKy. A couple eons later, Simon gets the crown as per canon, and then things start to slide downhill. Since the crown is significantly worse, Simon tries to get rid of it. No amount of magic pull is going to get him to put on the eldritch hat. It teleports back. When things go to shit, the crown tells him he's got two options: He can either live, or he can live unwillingly. This all coalesces in super angst and mild horror as Simon has to fight off evil urges and somehow keep both he and Marceline safe. Things start looking up, though, when he summons Hunson Abadeer.

5.) Nightmare Therapy AU: Simon, now himself post canon, has some funky nightmares. Problem is: he's due for a visit from the cosmic owl due to some mystical bureaucratic bs. If that were to happen, Simon's dreams of Golb and Orgalorg and the world ending and everyone dying and maze would come true, without the veil of metaphoric junk dreams are known for (also due to bureaucratic bs). So, Simon gets a dream therapist. An OC, probably, that would fight off his nightmares when they came and talk to him about his issues.

6.) High School AU: Except they're all still magic and crap. Finn's a jock that's part of the LDnD club(Literally Dungeons and Dragons), Jake's got a job at a pancake place and hosts the Card Wars clubs on Wednesdays, Jermaine's in college and their parents were still detectives/demon hunters. PB is preppy/nerdy girl with weird fucking family and is absolutely a mad scientist. Marceline is still a demon/vamp (vampire biker gang, they all died, deaths pending) and her uncle is Simon. Simon is a history teacher whose ex wife might be an eldritch abomination (the students wonder, but there are no answers)((simon says cryptic things every so often that are the subject of much ridicule, but he's a nice guy)). Ooo High has all of the AT characters in some shape or form. Tree trunks is the lunchlady, Mr Pig is a janitor. Lemongrab is just there. LSP(Q?) is a teacher because that's hilarious. Hunson is dead along with Marceline's mom because fuck hunson. Magic Man is a hobo that snuck onto campus and can't be chased off (his brother is the superintendent, Glob). there's a lot more but that's for a different word doc.

7.) Back to the Future AU: So PB fucks around with time travel, right? For science. She gets sent back in time a thousand years, before the war. Now, she's a pink lady who can shoot jelly beans from her hands, of course needs to lay low. And of course she needs to get home, but she's in a Futurama situation where she only has one type of time machine; the one that can go into the past. Not to mention her own time machine got busted on her way there, so she's double screwed. But, she remembers something. There is an individual (two, actually) that knows about time travel in this time period. She knows him, and he's likely to help her if she plays her card right. She needs to find Simon and get back to her own time, preferably without dooming herself in the process. (perhaps she tries to steal the notes Simon has, and Simon's completely oblivious, except Betty can smell trouble from a mile away and immediately notices some pink woman trying to steal books and she goes ham. Perhaps she goes ham in such a way that Simon doesn't notice. Perhaps this goes on for seven acts.)

8.) Bread and Butter AU: Bella Noche during the episode Betty creates a huge black cube that engulfs all of Wizard City. This box acts as a cage and prevents Wizards from escaping the magic purge. Simon is unable to bring Betty back from the past, and he's fading fast. In a desperate attempt to stop things from escalating, Simon chugs a bottle of anti-magic like a fucking god. He gets through the cube that surrounds Bella Noche and knocks their lights out. He passes out, and when he comes to, the anti-magic he consumed as merged with him. This is because of a simple rule: Magic sticks to magic, anti-magic sticks to anti-magic. And since humans have always had just a little bit of anti -magic present within them, humans and anti-magic go together like bread and butter (badumtish) ((I have actually written a fanfic about this, you can find it here))

9.) Swapped AU: Through various shenanigans Ice King's and Magic Man's powers gets swapped. These shenanigans somehow land them in space as well. This happens before Magic Man's trial. The swapping of their powers results in Simon getting his memory back. It also gives Magic Man the Ice Crown, unfortunately for him though, it seems to hate him. Simon's glad to back, but quickly realizes one issue: He's still crazy. So the pair try to make it back to Ooo. MM needs his powers to swap himself with some other shmuck so he doesn't croak when his trial comes, but Simon's made it clear he isn't giving his powers up without a fight. The pair starts off rocky, neither trusting the other, but space trouble forces them to work together. Simon's a nice enough guy he wouldn't leave someone to die and MM really needs Simon alive so it works out. A weird friendship forms, and they learn get along. Just a couple of crazy space wizards. Then the crown is destroyed. MM is freed from the crown's control, and he's freed from magic. He gets his sanity back, just in time for his trial.

that’s all I’ve got for now!

#at #adventure time #adventure time au #adventure time aus #Finn the Human #finn #jake the dog #jake #marceline #princess bubblegum #pb #simon petrikov #betty grof #ice king #magic man #au #aus

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