#also I’m still working on the other art of bill

[rainbow-beanie]

“Why can’t you see what I see?”

Finally drew little baby billy! Featuring his mom in tv static. Based off one of bill’s fears being of tv static from thisisnotawebsitedotcom’s many secret messages, next to “art therapy note: the only thing he draws are red and blue triangles.”

And based off his mom’s color off of @ckret2 ‘s version of scalene. Even though at this point in time she hasn’t been introduced yet

[citricacidprince]

Could you draw that "I trust you" scene with Mabel and Stan but with the relativity AU? (The stan twins and pine twins swap ages au)

OF COURSE, I WILL GLADLY DRAW THEM!!! 💥💥💥

I’m gonna post a long winded thesis about my thoughts on this AU, my take on the AU, and two additional arts under the cut because ooooh boy it’s a tad bit long lol. Also, please please forgive the formatting, I’m writing this all on the fly and it’s extremely disjointed, sorry- 💥

I know there’s the ‘canon’ Relativity AU designs and character dynamics, however I don’t really like them that much ngl. I feel like it mostly just ends up with ‘Mabel and Dipper get switched with Stan and Ford with no nuances once so ever’ and that BLOWS!!! There’s so much potential there and no one is playing with it!! YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE MABEL PRETENDING TO BE DIPPER, WHATS THE POINT????

Not only that but I feel like making Dipper and Mabel’s dynamic just Ford and Stan’s when they’re adults is a HUGE simplification of their characters. Like, Mabel and Dipper fight, but they don’t fight like Stan and Ford, they’re not as hard headed and stubborn. Mabel would commit some crimes yes, but I don’t believe she would get into some of the heavy shit Stan had in his past. I refuse to believe Mr. Dipper ‘Undiagnosed Anxiety Disorder’ Pines would fall for Bill’s flattery as easily as Ford did.

The Pines Twins are very different from the Mystery Twins. Mabel and Dipper didn’t grow up with a father constantly comparing the two and pinning them against each other, outright telling one kid they’ll always be a failure while the other is going to have the burden of making their family rich. They never had that tension. They wouldn’t be walking on eggshells around eachother as adults.

I know that makes the concept sound boring to some, ‘Where’s the fun in the AU if you take away the sibling fighting’. You cowards, you can still have it, young Stan and Ford are RIGHT THERE. During the second half of the show when Dipper comes back through the portal, instead of having the older set of twins, something that doesn’t male sense with their characters, have a building tension that’s going to explode soon and keep it between Stan and Ford, don’t take it away from them. If anything, I think taking away the resentment and anger growing between the two and giving it to Mabel and Dipped is a butchering of all the characters.

Sure that means some of the episodes would have to change or be completely erased, but that’s fine!!! Make up some new ones!!! Get silly with it!!!

Mabel and Dipper talk about feelings, Stan and Ford don’t. Mabel and Dipper can’t stay mad at each other, Stan and Ford will try and stay mad for decades because being angry is easier than being upset.

In my idea of this AU that fight at the end of Weirdmageddon HAS to be between Stan and Ford, and Stan HAS to still be the one getting his memories erased.

💥 Post Not-What-He-Seems Relativity AU Rambling Below 💥

Dipper is a paranoid man, fool him once you’re never going to fool him again. He would never in a million years ever work with Bill again. Ford however is an extremely lonely child, both he and his brother are desperate for any type of positive attention. I think Bill would see him as a potential protege, especially since Ford is a ‘freak’ like he is and the kid is extremely smart for his age. He’s malleable, Bill probably thinks he could shape him uo to be the perfect lackey.

Ford, being the lonely kid he is, probably does fall for the praise initially. He craves attention and Bill pushes all the right buttons and says all the right words, tries and gains his trust even if time has proven again and again that he shouldn’t be trusting the demon.

The tension between the Stan Twins would grow after Grunkle Dipper comes back because Ford is upset that Stan didn’t listen to him (even if it was for the best that he did) and that Grunkle Dipper forgave Graunty Mabel so easily because if Ford was in those shoes he wouldn’t have. It grows more and more as Ford becomes distant and Stan tries to connect with his brother to no avail. Which, of course, comes to a boiling point when Ford says he’s going to stay in Gravity Falls and learn under Grunkle Dipper. Stan is rightfully upset. He can’t go back to New Jersey by himself. It’s always just been the two of them, he needed Ford, he couldn’t handle school or their father by himself. He can’t be alone.

Unlike Mabel who just wanted one more day of summer, Stan wishes that he wouldn’t be alone, which indirectly causes Weirdmaggendon.

Stan’s prison bubble would probably be a fake New Jersey-esc town full of a bunch of little Stans running around. Town O’ Stan. A place where no Stan is left behind.

Ford says some nice words to Stan there to get him outta there but there is still this intense tension between the two.

During the Cipher Wheel Ford is the one who tackles Stan. The two fight, whining out hurtful words neither of them mean and only stop when Bill shows up and captures them. Graunty Mabel and Grunkle Dipper run off and distract Cipher in hopes that they can keep the attention on themselves long enough that their great nephews could come up with a plan to escape.

The younger twins don’t find a way out and instead, finally, have an actual talk about their feelings, one that definitely ends up in tears as the two talk about the pressure that’s put on them or how worthless they feel. After that the boys get a rush of determination to escape when Stanley has a plan. Ford immediately hates the plan but Stan insists that they do it, in his own words, ‘Let me prove I can do something right for once.’

When Bill comes back and threatens to kill either Mabel or Dipper just for the hell of it, Ford calls out that he’d like to make a deal.

He wants to work with Bill, let Bill into his mind willingly. Bill immediately jumps on that offer. Ford is a promising young kid, perfect henchmaniac potential, not to mention it would absolutely devastate Dipper is his great nephew willingly turned to Bill’s side.

He goes into Ford’s head, revealing Stanley just in time to reveal that he was trapped, panicking as he was erased with a swift left-hook along with a kid who was happy to prove he was good for something after all.

Everyone was devastated after Weirdmaggedon of course, a child had his mind completely wiped. Stanford took it the worst, he just managed to finally break down those words that others built in his head, that he was too good for Stanley or that he didn’t need a knucklehead like him dumbing down his brain, and now his brother was gone. Just like that.

We all know what happens after this, Stan gets his memory back, everyone celebrates and the Stan twins are sent home, promising each other that they’ll never let anyone try and tear them apart ever again. Dipper and Mabel stay at the shack, after all, all they could ever want is there, where else could they possibly go?

Sorry this was… extremely rambly and long, I am extremely tired and can’t think straight I have a bunch more ideas and concepts so if anyone’s desperately wants to hear them just ask I guess, sorry you read this dumb of ass essay haha 💥

[maknaereality]

I shifted

I shifted to my nana dr for about six months (even though only six seconds have passed here, since I set the time so that one month in the dr equals one second in this reality). I'm still a little confused from coming back, but overall, I feel good.

This dr isn’t my main one but could become my main one. Before I share some details, I want to clarify that this DR doesn't follow the anime’s storyline. For example, that asshole Takumi will never meet Hachi. I'll try to keep it brief, as I don't like talking too much about my dr after all, it is real life .

I live about 15 minutes away from Hachi and Nana’s apartment, in a suburb of Tokyo. I work at a bakery and also do art. Living in Tokyo between 1998 and 1999 is a mix of nostalgia and surreal. It's hard to describe precisely. I’ve also learned to live without modern smartphones, using those old brick phones with buttons instead. This has taught me to live more in the moment, without the constant need to check social media or waste hours scrolling through TikTok, aimlessly losing time.

In this dr, I’m learning to be more independent. Thanks also to my experiences in my Kpop drs, I've learned to manage an apartment on my own here: I do the laundry, cook, manage my budget, pay bills, and work in the bakery. Oh, and I'm also studying to get my driver's license.

I’ve also started learning to play the guitar, especially thanks to Nana. Playing has always been a huge dream of mine, but I never had the chance to do it in this reality. Once, I even got emotional with joy while holding the guitar in my hands, because it’s something I’ve always loved doing.

My relationship with Hachi and Nana is really great.

Hachi is very close to me; she often texts to ask how I’m doing, how work is going, and invites me to hang out on weekends or go to the pub together. I love going out with her because she’s unashamed of anything or anyone, and with her, I never feel judged. She also has a great sense of style. Even though colorful clothes aren’t really my thing, she’s helped me find a style that suits me. I must admit, though, that she requires a lot of patience since she’s a bit naive.

As for Nana Osaki, I really love her a lot. She’s given me so much advice on some of my personal concerns, and she’s the kind of person who could listen to you for hours. She shows her affection through sarcastic jokes. We share the same taste in music. It took a little while for her to fully trust me and start confiding in me, but I understand her, and our bond has grown over time.

I’m still getting to know Shin and Nobu. Shin is very reserved, but I feel like we’ll become great friends. Nobu, on the other hand, has already opened up, and we’ve quickly become close.

Next time I shift, I’ll come back with a suitcase full of Vivienne Westwood clothes, necklaces, and rings!

[boringbones]

A Letter to Talented Creators

I've been part of this community for 20 years, watching artists rise, fall, leave for new journeys, or simply stop playing or creating. We've received amazing content, but we've also missed out on much.

I wonder how many of these artists could still be creating extraordinary content if they had the support of their communities. It’s common to encounter cliques of creators who vilify anyone considering making a living doing what they love. They’ll use every trick to convince you that not only do you NOT deserve it, but that pursuing it somehow taints you.

With every new friend and artist I meet, my first advice is always: FIND a way to monetize what you do. I believe that if you have the chance to make a living doing what you love, you gain MORE TIME to do what you're great at and, especially, what others love.

Besides, you don’t need everyone’s support—just those who, like me and many other players, are willing to contribute to ensure you have the time you need to keep producing and delivering something only you can create. There are ideas that haven’t been thought of and projects that haven’t been started. Life brings unexpected situations, and we never truly know what goes on behind the scenes for each person who shares their art with the world.

Let me tell you, people are willing to support you. In reality, there are more people willing to support a creator than those who aren't. The difference is that those who are willing don’t make as much noise, but they genuinely enjoy helping an artist who continually exceeds expectations.

I know some people think, “If I make money from this, I’ll have to commit to a level I’m not willing to.” And if that’s the case, that’s fine. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, I see this commitment as something positive, but I respect those who disagree. As an artist, you want a certain level of "healthy" pressure. After all, art requires it—not too much pressure, but not too little, either.

Criquette, for instance, is one of the best creators for The Sims 2 in my view. He made incredible things that nearly every player has used. He was ambitious on a level I’ve rarely seen. But he’s been inactive for years. I wonder how much more he could have created if he’d been able to monetize his work—cover household bills, put food in the fridge, or handle basic expenses. How much more time he might have had to create and share? How many brilliant things we could have today in The Sims if he were still here? But he wasn’t monetized, and maybe he was never interested in it, and that’s okay!

For every artist who monetizes, there are many who prefer to do it as a hobby. And that’s wonderful. There are many runners who do it for well-being, pleasure, social connections, or the benefits it brings to life. However, there are those who run professionally. They commit to a level an “amateur” NEVER would. They undergo training that a casual or hobbyist runner would NEVER endure. They maintain diets that others would NEVER tolerate. But the fact that some monetize running and turn it into a career doesn’t prevent others from running for love, fun, or enjoyment.

So, what I’m trying to say is: it’s all okay. If you believe monetizing your talent would give you more QUALITY time to sit and produce what you love, give you the chance to take someone you love to a special restaurant simply because you can, or allow you to be BETTER at what you do because it frees you from worrying about adult responsibilities—then do it!

Be prepared for the noise others will make, but remember that those people aren’t your target audience. Even if they make noise, they don’t consume what you produce. And if they do, they might do so in secret—because attacking a creator and consuming that creator’s work is contradictory. But believe me, there’s often more inconsistency than consistency in this world. And that’s okay!

Remember that on the other side, there are many kind people who don’t mind contributing a small, medium, or even significant amount to support a creator they love, appreciate, and benefit from. Keep this in mind when considering monetization, no matter which version of The Sims you create for. If there’s even one person willing to support you, that’s all you need to start.

I am sure that with this, you’ll have more time, more quality of life, more joy, and a healthy commitment to push yourself in a positive way to give back to your audience for the support and love they have for what you create.

If I have time to create and contribute today, it’s because of these people. They’ve changed my life, shown me that I have the chance to live the life I genuinely want for myself rather than the life circumstances might have dictated. They show me daily that I can LOVE what I do and make a living from it, and that monetizing it doesn’t take away my love for it—instead, it enhances it. I hope you consider my words.

In the end, remember this phrase: “Beyond daily life and what others think of you, what do you think of yourself?” Your value is something only you define. People will respect you to the extent that you respect yourself. If anyone says you don’t have a place “here,” remember, we’re always speaking about ourselves.

We can only give to others what we have, what we are. Trust in your talent and find a way to monetize it, whatever it may be—whether it’s making jarred cakes, selling pudding door-to-door, or creating content for The Sims. I’ve done all these things, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that our circumstances change according to our sense of worth. When we recognize that every job has value and that there’s nothing wrong with making a living if you’re providing benefits to others with what you have to offer... So follow your heart. Take risks, give it your all, and be the artist you want to be, because there are people ready to support you. You deserve it, and you will succeed. I hope this letter reminds you of your worth.

Never forget that each of your creations is a unique expression, something only you can bring to the world. May that value and uniqueness always guide you and give you the confidence to keep doing what you love.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[lorryicious]

do you perhaps have any more Loretta/Bill content I’m VERY curious about their dynamic now 👁️👁️

I HAVE. SO MUCH. CONTENT. Loretta has been an oc I have had for YEARS so I absolutely have SO much stuff on her! Shes definitely my favorite oc alongside Jack, my other gravity falls oc. The short of it is they are forced to work together out of inconvenience by the Axolotl.. The most recent development has been the change in Lorettas ability revolving her sight because I thought it would be so cool if Loretta had the same/similar kind of mutation to Bill. It didn't change much to her character, just another reason why they ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time (time police events. I seriously need to write fanfic of the whole story LMAO)

Their dynamic is SO FUN. They bicker ALL the time and usually are yapping about something. They live together, so I think they argue over the smallest things. When they first ended up needing to work together, Bill was not thrilled AT ALL. He was VERY closed off. Loretta, not knowing this creature at all, just decided to let him do his own thing. It's only after an event where Loretta protects Bill when he's at his weakest that Bill realizes Loretta is harmless and that it wouldn't hurt to try to get some enjoyment out of her company. That turns into an actual friendship, which turns into Bill finding out Loretta is like him. Through this, they open up and become closer because of their similar identities. They just ended up on different paths because of their own mutations AUGH. Bill wanted more, when in comparison Loretta was content with what her world was already like.

Loretta is a demon hunter. She takes bounties from individuals around town to get rid of weirdness. She naturally has a knack for attracting it, so the job is perfect for her. Bill helps her with her bounties; in exchange, Loretta lets Bill drain her energy so he can regain his physical form. I have a whole animatic on my tiktok that shows how the possession works-

They are silly. They fight over what to watch on the tv, they karaoke and drink together, it takes AGES for Bill to actually open up to Loretta, Whenever they decide to share the bed (even though Bill doesn't sleep) he kicks off Lorreta off of it anyway just to frustrate her, they do makeup together, They drive up to one of the hills in gravity falls via Loretta's motorcycle and watch the sunset together. Love them. I have SO many thoughts on their dynamic, but they are there for each other, and despite all their issues, they love each other. They NEVER say it to each other because Bill is deathly scared of that word.

They are an oc x canon ship so they are together as partners TECHNICALLY. Still, I also think they are so messed up via the canon story that an ACTUAL domestic relationship dynamic just doesn't work for the two. Plus, Bill needs help understanding labels and Loretta doesn't need them. Plus there's the Jack situation...Which is a WHOLE OTHER RANT. JACK. AUGH. The love triangle (literally) goes insane. In my happy au they are a polycule asf.

Literally ask ANY questions about them, I might even draw something up if its a fun scenario you guys send,,, I LOVE THAT PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THE OCS BECAUSE !!!! I HAVE SO MUCH CONTENT FOR THEM.

Some of this is older art but it still works <33 and I STILL LOVE IT

This one I did recently-

Great side effect for being able to see outside your plane of reality AND being intertwined to a demon, you get to relive HIS trauma TOO!! (imagine how horrifying that was when Loretta told Bill the dreams shes been having) (double note: Bill played it off like they were random when he was FREAKING OUT ON THE INSIDE)

[figmentforms]

Part 240 of  “A Tale of Two Rulers” (Feb 1, 2023)- *updates monthly

★Patreon- https://www.patreon.com/LorIllustration ★

★ Webtoon-  https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/a-tale-of-two-rulers/list?title_no=292453 ★ - I’m still building up this archive weekly

Thanks so much to all my amazing supporters that help make this fan-comic happen! ♥ (If is wasn’t for you it would be a lot harder for me to have time to work on this and keep up with the  bills, so I’m super grateful.)

*Tumor update and other life-things below the Keep Reading line:

I finally got my surgery scheduled! At the end of March my tumor is getting removed! I've never had a surgery before, and as a person who faints over the SMALLEST of medical things, this will be quite an ....experience.......（￣□￣；）BUT I'M READY! 100% Worth it if it increases my odds of being able to bring a baby into the world. After I heal from that, the needle-filled adventure of fertility treatments is next. I'm gonna be so brave after I get through this. No needle fear will ever leave me passed out on the floor of a kroger mini clinic AGAIn. ᕦ(▀̿ ̿ -▀̿ ̿ )つ

Also in March I'm going to have my art booth up at EvilleCon,(Evansville IN, March 24-26) I'll have all copies of my comics in stock, plus some Pokemon fanart, other prints, pins, stickers, and my Curvy Cryptid stuff! I hope some of you can make it to say hi and chat!

Also in March, I will be moving to a new home! Super excited about that too!

And again, thank you all so much! You all make a big difference in my life and I appreciate it so much!

( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

[hollyhomburg]

I haven’t had an idea about hybrids in a long long time but 🥺 what about pup hybrid koo who gets abandoned by his owners for being too high energy, who waits by the door every day for them to come back, doesn’t like to talk to other humans because they’re not his owner but then slowly, the volunteer who comes into his room to talk to him every day and eat his meals with him and feed him treats starts to chip away at his heart and adopts him.

only to have him wake up Literally lying on top of them, deal with him breaking out of the house and following them to work, everywhere- jk is just so worried about being left behind again but! It’s a good thing his owner is really understanding and doesn’t mind that he’s a clingy little puppy.

And of course Doberman! jk is also still covered with tattoos just like irl jk 🥺 big floppy ears hanging over his face, the breed and tattoos usually turn people off from adopting him because Dobermans you know- they’re /protection/ dogs, they don’t see jks wide terrified eyes hidden behind his big ears. They just see the tattoos and piercings and walk the other way. Im imagining the first time jk ever falls asleep on the m/c, head on her lap, her fingers rubbing against the spot on the back of them where they’re sensitive and tingly saying to herself “at least he didn’t doc your ears, I would have expected- given the other /modifications/ he made to you, that he’d have done that. At least he had the decency to leave them alone”

And she asks cuz of course she does, why jks old owner covered him with tattoo’s and maybe she should have waited until he was more awake but jk just says “liked to come with hyung to work, saved his best designs for me”

Maybe years later they have a run in with Jks old owner and it’s one of the other boys, tattoo artist yoongi maybe? but 🥺 jk finally gets his closure because he finds out yoongi didn’t abandon him he just got into an accident and was in a coma for 6 months and then had 18 months of re-learning how to walk after that. How to do art, how to tattoo again and yoongis finally back on his feet. Even when he was in a wheelchair yoongi never stopped going to different shelters to try and find Jk. Yoongi never gave up looking for his pup 🥺

Imagine tattoo artist yoongi with arms full of pretty floral tattoos in the same style as the ones on jk’s arm 🥺 and the m/c once again questions him about it and jk gives her the honest answer of “I asked for them”

Maybe jk is now faced with the horrible choice of being the one who leaves his new owner who he loves a lot and going back to the person who he once missed more than anything! Of course his little pup brain just comes up with the simple solution! They both just have to move in together to look after him! That way he gets both!! And only- the m/c and yoongi are really opposites- but they decide to try and make being roommates work if only because jk deserves it.

And maybe yoongi starts taking care of her too because he always did let jungkook depend on him lots 🥺 for cooking and brushing out his long fluffy hair and showers after boxing class. And yoongi fusses because around her work schedule she forgets to eat a bunch and he ends up going to drop off lunches because honestly- the tatto shop kinda runs it’s self since namjoon and taehyung took over during yoongis accident- they never met jk because they only bought into the business after yoongis accident when he had to sell off half of it to cover his medical bills (I’m picturing calico mini- a new addition, who took over jks job of checking people in for their appointments and answering the phone)

But anyway back to yoongi and his babying It’s natural for him to say “up!” To her (a total accident he swears) when she’s wearing a soaked shirt after coming in from the rain, blushing hard, but kinda grinning when she follows obediently. Because jk always liked it when yoongi would dress him 🥺 hyungs perfect little puppy doll all pliant and good. And it would be okay if only she didn’t slip up too! Accidentally calling yoongi a good boy on more than one occasion or going in for a “good pup kiss” cuz jk is like- kinda a kissy puppy, likes good morning kisses and thank you for putting your dishes away and “I missed you cuz you just peed kisses and I was worried a monster was gonna eat you in the bathroom” kisses. Jk has them both very well trained.

Of course he’d tease her endlessly for that. “Maybe we should get you a pair of puppy ears for Halloween if you’re gonna listen to me the way that jk does” “yeah? I’ll get you a pair of kitty ears and tatto whiskers on you in your sleep” only what if one day yoongi reveals he actually does have whisker tattoos they’re just black light 😭

Only why don’t they kiss each other the way they give him good boy kisses 🥺 why don’t they cuddle each other like they cuddle him??? Why don’t they good hands the way they hold hands with him when he goes out so that they don’t get lost! Jk has to remedy this right away 😠 he can’t loose either of them ever again so he’s gotta set them up!!!

[poltergeistsoup]

URGENT

I have been in contact with Marlei for several weeks now. She is also verified by Noah Grigini on Instagram, who is very active in mutual aid work.

Marlei is 26 years old, disabled, and has been left homeless with her 3 children after a typhoon in the Philippines in July.

She has just recently been hospitalized, and is unsure of what will happen to her and her family now.

I have been helping her afford food and shelter over the past 2 weeks, but she needs almost 21,000 pesos (1,055 USD) to pay for her hospital bills. I am taking 5-10 dollar requests in exchange for proof of do*nation, as well as opening commissions for higher payments. All payments will go directly to Marlei and I will provide proof of payment.

Give directly to Marlei here

DM me at poltergeistsoup for commissions

I know there are a lot of things requiring our attention at the moment, and they’re all very important, but since I have been in contact with her personally, I would like to do what I can to help. I also understand I’m asking other people who may also be struggling, but sharing may help this reach the right person.

If she is able to get to half the amount by the end of the week, she will be able to be discharged so she doesn’t accrue more debt. I would like to help get her to 600 USD by the end of the week.

Edit: We had been able to reach the goal and help Marlei pay off her hospital bills! However, she is still homeless and the Philippines is facing typhoon after typhoon. If you are able to continue to support her in staying in a hotel room and affording food for herself and her children, I am still taking art requests with proof of d*nation.

[dangopango00]

COLLEGE AU TIGHNARI ROOMMATE HCS

Tighnari x gn reader

A/N: AUGGGHHHHH IM INSANE AGAIENEBWFWFWWGQ Missing tighnari hours oue so I will write out all the roomie hcs I have to share; per usual its self indulgent as hell

If im being fr this is probably gonna have a part 2 soon i always forget something 😭😭 also my art of him is down there somewhere!!!!

Cw: long af oh my god

more utc

First Meeting:

- You’re a biology major or something similar and just visiting the college you’ll be attending

- You were definitely going to move into the dorms but you heard about and later witnessed some student running around like a maniac looking for a roommate

- You even got emails about it, found flyers on some of the pinboards around the school and even saw ads online (whether that be in some college gc app like zeemee or whatever)

- Eventually you did a bit of basic research on this guy by asking some of your friends or people who know him and you found out his name is Tighnari and he’s double majored in biology and botany

- You let him go on for a few days-a week before you realized he really wasn’t going to find a roommate this late in the game; feeling both pity and admiration for his dedication, you approached him with one of the flyers in your hand as the poor guy took a break from his ad campaign

- “Um… about this flyer…..”

- Tighnari’s ears immediately perked up oh you just made his week, no his month— maybe even his year

- “Yes? Are you interested in moving in? My previous roommate has begun living elsewhere” he explained.

- You’re hesitant, hoping you aren’t making a mistake but eventually steel yourself and figure you only live once right? Plus he could always help with your work! You give him a firm nod.

- Tighnari got a bit overexcited, asking way too many questions at once, “When can you move in? How will you be paying rent? Are you alright with plants? Right, by the way I’m Tighnari. I am a biology and botany major”

- “It’s nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n). I can move in soon and plants are fine! Uh …About rent! I’ll have to find a job but I do have some savings!” you confessed nervously.

- To tell the truth you weren’t planning on getting a job this early on, planning to get the hang of the new workload first but desperate times call for desperate measures (Cute guy in trouble 😤)

- Tighnari however, was unamused. His face completely dropped as if you’d just told him his entire family dropped dead, “You don’t have a source of income already…? Then why would you…. Sigh Nevermind. Its fine. This is fine. I’ll even help you job search”

- “Greeeaaatttt there goes my credit” he thought. And it showed on his face too.

- You just shoot him a silly smile and over the course of the days it took to move you into his apartment you establish some ground rules

Rules:

- He will do the cooking and he’ll cook for you if he’s cooking for himself (if he’s not cooking then you’re on your own)

- In return you do a majority of the cleaning although it’s still pretty split kinda like a 60/40 or 55/45 kind of deal

- You pay the water bill while he pays electricity (you take long showers and his plants and such sometimes require lamps + he just uses a lot of electricity I feel like it’s not usually for him but his plants and work)

- Visitors are pretty much always welcome but you have to let the other know beforehand

- Although the previous rule is true none of those kind of visitors are allowed. Tighnari has sensitive ears he don’t wanna hear that 😭😭

- Be cool and communicate if you have a problem

Apartment:

- SO MANY PLANTS. LIKE THEY ARE TAKING OVER THE APARTMENT . This is a big part of why Tighnari didn’t want to live in the dorms since he wouldn’t be able to have as many plants as he wanted

- It’s a little funny Cyno has really bad allergies so he never lived with him and Collei lived with him for a long time but moved out to move in with Amber (oue shes leaving the nest) (she’s in the apartment right below yours)

- You, as a biology major, on the other hand LOVE the amount of plants in the apartment and Tighnari is ecstatic because he was sooo worried you’d try to make him get rid of them or something; is even more glad that you like them as much as he does

- Also has a big tank of worms where he dumps all the leftovers neither of you eat. He then uses the compost as plant fertilizer

- Despite the amount of things in the apartment its very neat and organized; there are little notebooks next to every living thing to keep track of when and how to feed them

You and Him:

- He has a very old ass car but only uses it for emergencies because he’s not a fan of carbon emissions (usually goes places by public transport, walking or hitching rides) (its the little things that make a big difference ok)

- He works two jobs: One at a plant/flower shop and the other at the school library

- He sometimes brings home new plants because all the plants no one will buy are always given to him by management

- You work one or two jobs likely on campus maybe in the newspaper or the school cafe etc

- Either way whenever you get home tired or after just having a bad day he’d comfort you so much no matter how many days in a row you do the same thing, flopping on the couch and groaning

- When you first did it you two weren’t close but he still stroked your hair and offered you some words of praise but when you two became more comfortable he’d straight up hold you to his chest or let you lay on his lap while stroking your hair if you don’t mind

- “I really need to stop coddling you” he’d say this all the time but never follow through on it and you’d be in his arms as we speak 😅

- He never did stop coddling you. Whenever you watch a show or anime he’s right beside you on the couch reading his book as he glances up every now and again; sometimes gives his two cents on what’s going on in the show (my personal fave is him getting mad at the usopp going merry arc in water 7 bye)

- He has little black rectangular reading glasses idc idgaf he dresses like an old man too with cardigans and sweater vests, maybe overalls if he’s going out to do garden work (he has no sense of fashion we know this)

- If you’re willing to listen he will yap so much about his plants and about wildlife; his heart melts in his chest if you seem genuinely interested and are paying close attention

- You have a snail named Saniel/Saniela. You almost stepped on him and brought him inside, putting him in a little terrarium thing.

- Tighnari hates that thing (he doesn’t; he’s like a grumpy father with a new dog) if it gets out it will eat his plants, so watch it. 😤

- Posts it on his little conservation account (shoutout to the person who wrote that post where he had a conservation insta acc i cant find it) and it overtakes the page gn its his worst nightmare. First it steals his unofficial lover now his followers

- Yall would’ve been burned at the stake in the 1800s you’re always doing your “projects” in the house unless its dangerous (but you’ll still do it outside) like you seeing a girl on Tiktok grow mushrooms on a book so you try it at home…

- He always helps you with anyyyyything. You need help studying for this biology test? So does he, come on in. You need a shoulder to cry on? He has two!! You want a snack but you don’t want to ask too much of him? Don’t be ridiculous he’s making you something as we speak

- He’s actually such a sweetheart he worries about your diet so much; honestly he’s content knowing that you’re under his care bc then he knows you’re eating right

- He wakes up and starts his day INSANELY early and honestly if you manage to wake up before him he’d probably flinch seeing you up LOL he’s so not used to anyone being awake when he is let alone earlier

- Absolute hypocrite too, he won’t let you sleep too late no matter what day it is or whether you have class or not but when he does it he’s just busy smh

- Wouldn’t mind if you treated him the same although if it’s time sensitive he fears he cannot give in to your demands sigh

- He’s a worrywart and a leeeetle nagging but you can tell he cares and you care about him just the same

- You’re always doing whatever you can to take stress off of his shoulders like running errands for him, cooking for him/ordering takeout when he can’t cook, Taking care of his plants for him when he’s busy, etc

- If you work out in the house after moving in then it’s so over for him

- He’s insane. If you’re in the living room he will go “read” his book on the couch but he’s been on the same page the whole time, is he ever gonna flip?

- Not even like explicit workouts like squats or something; just seeing you push yourself to your limit and sweaty and grunting and— where was he again? Ah right page 52.

- It’s so much worse if you ask him to help in some way, he can’t focus at all especially if you ask him to sit on your back while you do pushups

- Also a fan of you being taller than him no matter the method. (Which isn’t hard to achieve bc I hc him like 5’1-5’3) Naturally tall? Great! Wearing platforms? Amazing! Standing on a stool? As long as he doesn’t look down then it’s hot

Funny Bonus from the ari:

Tighnari: do you know anyone who still needs housing arrangements?? pls I’m desperate 😭

Alhaitham: you could take Kaveh

Kaveh: WOWWWW…

[slashv1xen]

*kicks open door** GROSS CREEPY REDNECK MAN!?

No but seriously Otis is my guilty pleasure character and I need him with a 'tomboy' reader (aka a basic rural southern woman (It'd be nice if you could include her being oddly feminine despite all the hunting and the cursing and the fighting: Like she calls him a cunt then goes and bakes a bunch of sweets or goes off to work on a dress tailoring project XD))

i like the way u think ;) also otis does NOT have enough fanfics/headcannons written about him and it’s actually a crime

i feel like otis has two types of girls: the same (tomboy like u mentioned) or the opposite (hyper feminine girl from the city).

i also think that when he stumbled upon u he had the only intention to kill u like other victims, but something keeps him from doing so (that’s up to u anonie). and i think it sealed the deal after u got along with his family (helping mama clean up around the house + doing baby’s hair for ex.) after keeping u locked up in his house for months. he’s also definitely a family man, so he appreciates it.

like otis, u have a smart mouth on u (which otis thinks is cute only to a certain degree, going further than that and u wish u hadn’t opened ur mouth in the first place). nonetheless, otis still loves u, and thinks ur cussing and smart mouth makes u all the more loveable.

because u happen to be a tomboy, when u do traditionally more girly things/have girly hobbies it surprises him, but he doesn’t hate it (in fact he thinks it’s cute but he would never say that out loud), which makes u a combo of both fem and masc (best of both worlds - his words not mine).

one shot 💗

“yes!” you shouted as the bullet that shot from the rifle hit the deer in the head, otis grumbling (but you knew he was proud of you). the two of you had a bet on who could shoot prey first, and you won. “pay up baby!”

otis rolled his eyes with a cocky grin on his face as a slapped a scrunched up $10 bill in your hand. “i was just going easy on you, i could easily beat you next time.” he yelled as you walked away giggling with the money, waving him off. “yeah, yeah!”

as the both of you made it into the house you noticed that otis’s air around him was tense. you frowned slightly but didn’t say anything, after all he hated speaking about his emotions, or just hated talking about emotions in general (it didn’t help he was practically a pro at hiding his emotions). then it clicked in your head as he roughly put his rifle down. ‘is he annoyed he lost the bet? i wouldn’t have picked him as the sore loser, petty type.’ you chuckled, finding it a little cute, but you still didn’t want him sulking around.

suddenly an idea came into your head, and immediately you began working, knowing that this would surely cheer him up.

after around 2 hours you knocked on his door, and he muttered that you could enter. you did, and set a warm tray on his bed. he was sitting at his desk, working on some art project (he’s always got some art project to do). he smelled the air and turned to the bed, and his eyes lightened up for a second before a confused expression emerged onto his face.

“cookies? what’d ya do this for?” he rose an eyebrow, wondering if this was a ruse or something. you tsked, annoyed he didn’t understand the gesture, but you explained it to him either way. “well i noticed you seemed a bit annoyed for losing the bet, and i thought this would make you feel better.” you smiled, feeling proud of yourself.

“hm, didn’t pick you for a baker type’a girl.” he mumbled, inspecting the cookies. you scoffed before his eyes met with yours. “y’know, this is unnecessary. i’m not even mad, you’re seeing into things that aren’t there.” he said, speaking up louder. you were annoyed at this reaction. you spent 2 hours baking him cookies (he has a big sweet tooth) to cheer him up and this is the thanks you get.

“fine, i’ll just take these back and give them to someone who’ll actually appreciate them and won’t be a dick about it. maybe baby, or tiny.” you grabbed the tray before you felt otis’s calloused hands grip your wrists, forcing you to set the tray down.

“hey baby, don’t be like that. y’know i didn’t mean it like that, i appreciate the effort, i do. i’m just surprised, okay?” he looked genuine and his eyes met yours. you were waiting for him to say sorry, but the way he his, he probably wouldn’t. you sighed, not saying anything. he sighed as well, and with all his strength, he mumbled something. “…sorry.”

you’re eyes lit up when he said this. otis driftwood, saying sorry? that was a first. suddenly a grin flew onto your face as you hugged him and laughed.

“now, stop that bad mood of yours and let’s eat these cookies before they get cold.”

tysm for this request, i had so much fun writing it! i’m sorry if this wasn’t up to ur standards it was a challenge to write and i wanted it to get out asap. if u have any more please send them in, i would love to hear them x

[lunarcrown]

can we see all of your tattoos? :0

I FINALLY TOOK PICS!!!! I actually don’t have a TON of tattoos compared to my peers but I have a nice chunk! I’m just slow at getting tattooed bc I’m always working so I get like MAYBE two a year 😂

ANYWAYS!!! Ok so my legs: butterfly, demon goat girl, caterpillar, bill cipher (a SUPER OLD ONE), Minecraft block, and blue three eyed cat are all by me on me HAHA

I’ve made myself quit tattooing myself so I can get OTHER people’s art on me, but I wanted to tattoo my own shins just in case it was too terrible to continue with someone else (it’s not actually that bad!!!), and the other things like the Minecraft block were just so I could have complete control of it when it meant so much to me. The three eyed cat is actually my first “official” tattoo on skin I did as an apprentice! (Bill was a sneaky stick and poke I did in college OTL)

Creeper is from a friend/fellow tattoo artist who I trade tattoos with a bunch (but we still pay each other bc BILLS…), party dragon was from a dragon tattoo trade, worm on a string was from a friend who’s apprenticeship started same time as mine, pink axolotl is from my coworker who is sooooo freakin cool….i aspire to be like her so much…. And anime eyes heart gal is from a super cool friend that I went to college with! We reunited when I started tattooing and got a lot of laughs on how long it took to get our degrees and now we aren’t even “using” them HAHSG

Rest of the ones on my legs!!

Mob is from the same buddy that did the creeper and another one you’ll see in a sec, the kitties are from ANOTHER pal who started apprenticing same time as me! They’re actually arranged to be a subtle ⚢ sign bc IM A HOMOSEXUALLLLL~~ the symbol beneath these is the ol symbol from gravity falls that I ALSO stick and poked in college YEP…. Love Bug and the firefly are by a buddy from Virginia! One day I’m gonna get a “mean” version of love bug on my other thigh and it’s gonna say “bug off” 🤩 and the colorful leopard is from ANOTHER buddy trade that I did with a very cool friend!!

And finally MY ARMS!!!!

I have even less up here because getting arm tattoos makes it hard to work pfft….

I LOVE canti from OG FLCL (I love robots with sick designs so much…) and I love the show as well (introducing me to the Pillows was so PIVOTAL…) so I have him not once but TWICE form different ppl. The one with the flowers was from my mentor who turned out to be a sucky person so BOOO but I still love the tattoo~ the claptrap and OTHER canti are from a neat guy that I LOOOVE his style but his shop is sooo traditional and it’s lowkey uncomfortable even though he’s nice so idk if I’ll go back for a third. The Grievous is from the same buddy that did the creeper and mob!!! It’s so cool too bc my freckles make HIM have freckles and it’s adorable to me. And finally my VERY first tattoo I ever got, the big ufo abducting a pumpkin!!

This was done by Kelly McGrath in North Carolina and she was so sosososo sweet, gave me free prints, let me video call some of it to my family because we were VERY very far away from each other, AND I got to tell her years and years later that she inspired me so much that I became a tattoo artist myself!! And I even got to ask her a question or two and she responded so nice :,,)

SO YEAH I don’t have much rhyme or reason to my picks besides preferring color tattoos to be the majority, but my goal now is to collect tattoos from some very cool people and take my time filling up my body with art!! Eventually I would like to extend to my hands (palms included) and feet (JUST THE TOP I AM NOT DOING MY SOLES), neck, body, and maybe a few on my face near the outer perimeter/outer corner of eyes/above eyebrows! But that’ll probably be way off bc I work a LOT like I said at the beginning! Always the tattooer, never the tattooed HAHA

[sillyboycam]

“Well Shooting Star? What’s your decision?”

——————

Bill how the FUCK IS MABEL SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE IF SHES UNCONSCIOUS FALLING THROUGH THE AIR??

Also I have no idea why I made Ford so calm. Maybe because he thought Bill wouldn’t y’know, actually kill his grandniece/nibling

———————-

This is inspired by that one song that’s been floating around. Dove - Doll Ver. By antihoney. It’s so unnerving I love it

Mabel is so misunderstood. I love her

(So is literally every other Pine)

——————

all we can hope is he’s being a silly little guy. Anyways hi! I’ve been working on this for a while and have changed a lot of things thousands of times. Though I’m not suppper duper happy with the faces.. it still looks pretty good I think :)

Also if you don’t already know from a few of my posts, I’m an angst lover. Very moody I am yes sir

Pls enjoy

Love ya!

Art is by me ————————-> @sillyboycam

(This took me a week ~_~)

Also quietly… Happy 4/13!! I didn’t have time to draw or make anything today but I love Homestuck from the bottom of my heart

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Triangulum - Chapter 5 - Fake Fights and Failed Flights

— — — — — — —

“I still don’t know what you’re making over there, but if I could toss out a suggestion: you can’t go wrong with copious amounts of glitter~! Ooh, or flames spray-painted on the side! Makes for a great accent to any art project!”

Bill’s remark didn’t even earn so much as a glance from Ford, his gaze fixed solely on the desk before him as he continued to work on his mysterious project.

A project which Bill had continued to try and get a glimpse of every time Ford stepped away from his desk to fetch more—just as mysterious—supplies. But much like the first time, any attempt to stretch or crane his neck for a peek at the desk’s contents only ended in failure. And at one point, resulted in Ford’s only acknowledgment of him throughout the entire process—in the form of propping one of his books upright on the desk, to further block his line of sight. An action that had earned a drawn-out eye roll on Bill’s end; somebody was being dramatic for the sake of dramatics.

Eventually, however, Ford rose from his chair a final time and reached for the mysterious whatever that waited on the desk before him. And it was only once he turned back towards the far side of the study and reapproached the rope circle that Bill finally got a clear look at the fruits of the man’s labor.

“…A sock puppet. Adorable.”

Sure enough, Ford had haphazardly sewn googly eyes and little pipe cleaner arms to a worn sock, one that Bill assumed had come from the emergency stash of clothes he kept up in the bathroom. It was a rush job, far more amateur than the work he would normally put into an artisanal project. But even a clueless idiot could take one look at his creation and coin it as a puppet of sorts.

After a double-check of the stitching to make sure the various parts would stay connected to the sock, Ford knelt down just outside of the rope circle before setting the crude little puppet down at his feet—

—and he waited.

Bill watched him for a few minutes, eyebrow raised, before—

Ah.

Okay, he knew what was happening now. 

“Trying to contact the poor sucker whose body I’m playing puppetmaster with?” he guessed aloud. “Come on, Sixer, you can’t pretend you aren’t~!”

“They’re likely to give me more answers than you ever will.”

Both of Bill’s eyebrows shot further up his forehead. After the many times Ford had ignored him throughout the past day, it was truly a surprise to get an actual response out of him!

Both a surprise and an annoyance, one that earned him a hard raspberry from Bill—which was immediately followed by the loud sound of him smacking his lips with discomfort. Eugh—it just felt so wrong to have a tongue that wasn’t tenderly and carefully tucked beneath his eyeball. Or rows of teeth that pressed uncomfortably against each other, as opposed to retracting into slots around his eyeball when not in use.

Oh, right, he was mocking Ford—“I mean, you say that, but out of the two of us, which one was refusing to talk all night?” he taunted. “I mean, I tried and tried to have a nice chat—ask about what you’ve been up to for the past few months, how the family’s been—but you were being just as stubborn as ever.”

Ford didn’t respond, his gaze fixed solely on the puppet as he waited for something to happen. And Bill couldn’t help but let his own eyes fall to the crude little sock creation as well, while he also waited in just-as-curious silence. 

Sure, Birdbrain had plunked him back down in a human body, but they hadn’t elaborated on where they’d be getting that body in the first place. Heck, they’d been downright sneaky about what body they’d planned on sticking him into, deliberately avoiding any specifies right up until the second before they zapped him outta their mindscape. 

But unless they somehow possessed the ability to create a brand new body from nothing, they would’ve had to get his vessel from somewhere. 

And if they'd actually resorted to pulling out the soul of some unlucky chump and recycling the leftovers for him to use as his own, then Bill couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t the tiniest bit curious about what said chump was like in the personality department. 

…Of course if they were hoping to get their body back from him, then they were straight-up outta luck in that regard. Finders keepers, pal! 

But hey, no harm in being a little curious about his vessel's origins. Curiosity killed the cat, after all—and a dead animal here and there always added a delightful splash of color to the room.

The two of them waited a minute, two minutes, five minutes—

But the puppet remained an immobile lump on the hard, wooden floor.

“Now, I might be wrong,” Bill finally spoke up after their waiting period hit the seven-minute mark. “But I feel like something should’ve happened by this point. Just a guess, though!”

Ford remained silent, eyes still fixed on the puppet—

—before he too decided to call it quits, and rose to his feet. “Well, I suppose that answers a few questions,” he muttered to himself. “Alright, on to the next step…”

Bill bit back the urge to pester Ford with an inquiry of: “Oh, and what’s the next step, Smart Guy?” and instead kept his attention on the sock puppet as Ford headed back to the desk. Even if nothing had actually happened, it had still given him a few more hints about the kind of body possession he was dealing with at the moment.

If Birdbrain had done some soul switcharoo-ing to free up a body, the original soul would’ve likely pulled a Pine Tree and used whatever other vessel they could get their hands on—in order to communicate as much to anyone willing to listen. 

So if they hadn’t been tempted by the puppet equivalent of the bargain bin—nobody’s first choice but it would do in a desperate pinch—then there were a few possibilities.

One: they had already found a vessel somewhere else to claim as their own. An unlikely guess if his theory of Ford finding him close to the Shack turned out to be correct—a soul whose body was being temporarily borrowed by someone would ideally stick as close to the body as possible. Or at least, if someone else had found a way to parade Bill’s body around as their own, he knew for a fact that he’d personally be hovering around it at all times and annoying the thief into giving it back.

Two: Birdbrain had thought ahead and decided to keep a tight leash on the soul, to prevent it from trying to take its body back. A possibility more likely than the first, although Bill had no way of clarifying this fact without finding some way to contact Tangy at all.

His brow furrowed as his thoughts switched gears to that smug, feathered jerk. He still had plans to play their dumb game, but he’d already wasted most of the past day being tied to a chair. How was he supposed to track down the stupid little bricks to their stupid little charm if he couldn’t even move from this stupid little chair?

Concerns to gripe about later—Right now, he was on to possibility number three; the body had no former host, and Birdbrain has just crafted him a new body from scratch.

Making something from nothing was a task only the most powerful of entities could perform. Bill would know from experience; he’d been able to do it once he’d escaped from the Nightmare Realm and ventured into this dimension—crafting a beautiful, three-dimensional pyramid body for himself. 

How he missed that body dearly—he had even sprung for a square base over a triangular one, just to mix things up a little bit. Sure, it’d mostly been a spur-of-the-moment idea, but settling his consciousness into such a form had just felt so right for him. A rightness that he would probably unpack at some point in the future, when he no longer had to focus on the task at hand.

But creating an entirely new, physical vessel from within the mindscape itself, all without a rift to the dimension where it would be used? 

That was something that even he hadn’t been able to accomplish. If he had, he wouldn’t have needed the help from mortals with crafting a portal in the first place—he could’ve simply cut out the middle man, poofed a ready-made vessel into existence, and used that to build the portal himself.

If Birdbrain possessed that much power, then—

“A-ha! Found it!”

Bill was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of Ford’s voice, and he looked up to see him approaching the circle again. “Yeesh, took you long enough,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to bore me to death with all your dull research and secret art projects~!”

“I do have my reasons for both,” Ford admitted as he drew closer. “That much I am willing to disclose to you.”

“Oh~?” Bill perked up with curiosity. “And what reasons are those?”

As Ford finally came to a stop outside the circle and knelt down to pick up the sock puppet, Bill could see something cradled in one of his hands. 

A small burlap sack, hardly bigger than his palm—

“I needed to determine the proper dosage to knock someone of your stature out cold.”

—oh, he was not serious!

The puppet was dropped inside the rope circle near his feet, and before Bill could finish his irate warning of: “Stanford, don’t you dare—”, Ford was already tossing the bag’s contents at his face.

Bill sputtered as a pink burst of fairy dust hit him square in the mouth, yanking his arms desperately against his restraints in the hopes of freeing one so he could wipe his face clean. 

But it was only a matter of seconds later that the sleep effects start to overtake his vessel’s fragile immune system, and his body drooped forward with exhaustion. 

He saw Ford step into the circle and continue towards him, reaching a hand into his pocket—

—and Bill managed one feeble kick of his leg before he once again slipped into unconsciousness.

— — — — — — —

“Okay, get a load of this~!”

After a quick glance back at the younger teens to make sure she had their attention, Wendy pulled a flashlight from her belt loop and took aim at the nearby half-pipe. One press of the button later and the ramp had been shrunken down to a size more suitable for skateboarding ants, rather than people or Abominable Bro-men.

With a pleased grin, Wendy strolled over to scoop it up off the ground. “You guys have no idea what kind of geniuses you were to put this thing together,” she said, giving it a light shake to clear away the miniscule soda cans. “It makes cleaning up the exhibits soooo much easier!”

“I just can’t believe I never thought to use it for cleaning before,” Dipper said from where the two of them were seated. “Do you know how easy it’d be to clean under my bed if I could just shrink it first? Or how much time I could save on washing clothes if they were half-an-inch tall?”

“Sounds like you’ve got a possible patent on your hands,” Wendy said, setting the shrunken half-pipe into a storage box. “But I came up with the cleaning idea, so I want at least seventy percent of the cut.”

“Aww, what? I’m the one who invented the thing,” Dipper pointed out. “Forty-sixty split where I’m getting the sixty, or no deal.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine, what if we make it fifty-fifty but I get to pick the name?”

“No way! I made it, I should get to name it!”

“Oh, yeah?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “So what did you name it?”

At this question, Dipper suddenly became very interested in the dirt beneath his shoes. “...I mean, I said I should get to name it, not that I’ve actually named it yet,” he muttered weakly. “But you know, if you happen to have a name already picked out, I’m open to suggestions or whatever…”

With a laugh, Wendy lightly tapped the flashlight against her leg as she pondered ideas. “What about…the Shrink-and-Scrub?” she suggested. “The main words start with the same letter, it’s catchy…would probably snag the attention of overworked parents or something.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Dipper mused thoughtfully. “But you’re not really scrubbing with it, are you? We could get slapped with a false advertising charge.”

“Ooh, good call! Whaddaya think, Mabel, you got any good name ideas?”

Dipper turned to face his sister, seated on the ground next to him with her attention on her phone. At Wendy’s question, however, she lowered the screen with a contemplative look. “The…Shrink-and-Span? Like spick-and-span, but there’s shrinking? And it still sounds all clean-y and stuff?” 

She placed her phone on the ground next to her so she could make a growing-shrinking motion with her hands. “Also Span, like Ex-span…d? It’s almost a pun and people love puns!”

Her arms were thrown into the air with bright enthusiasm, but it was only seconds later before both her posture and expression sank again. “I dunno…”

While she slipped her chin back into one hand and her phone back into the other, Dipper and Wendy exchanged a knowing look. “Man, even when you’re down in the dumps, you’re still better at this than both of us,” Wendy said.

Mabel’s response was a sad hum, and Dipper scooted closer to place a hand on her shoulder. “Still worried, huh?” he asked. “I thought the streamer thing would’ve made you at least a little bit excited.”

“I can’t work my Mabel Magic on the shack until everything’s all cleaned up,” Mabel explained. “Which means I gotta sit and think about Bill and Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford and everything else we had to worry about last year!”

Her hands once against returned to the air as she continued to speak: “We were gonna spend so much time with both Stan and Ford this summer! But now that big, dumb, pointy, jerky…jerkface is back and they’re fighting because of him, and—and—”

Rather than finish her sentence, she reached to her sweater collar and pulled it up over her face with a groan—an action that earned a comforting shoulder pat from her brother. “Come on, Mabel, you’re not really gonna believe what Bill said about Stan and Ford fighting, are you?”

“Yeah,” Wendy added. “Isn’t the guy, like, a notorious liar or something? Who cares if he says they’re fighting?”

“It’s not what he said,” Mabel explained, pulling the collar back down past her mouth. “It’s what they’re doing! I mean, you and Grunkle Stan went to give Ford his breakfast, right?”

She directed this question at Dipper, who nodded in response. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, what happened when you did?”

“Not a whole lot,” Dipper said, and began to tick off his fingers. “We went to Abuelita’s bedroom, Bill was trying to be as creepy as possible, we went out into the hallway to talk about Ford’s plan—”

His hand sank a bit. “—Stan started getting upset because Ford wasn’t letting him help,” he finished defeatedly. “And then I…left to go up to the bedroom.”

Mabel pointed to Wendy, who had occupied herself by taking aim at another exhibit. “And what happened after that?”

“Well…Stan came storming up the hallway,” Wendy began, placing the newly-shrunken exhibit into the box with the others. “And then he—”

She hesitated to reply for a few seconds, before pressing a hand to the back of her neck. “—he punched the wall and went out to the boat.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re fighting, though!” Dipper added quickly. “It could mean anything! Maybe Bill was getting on Grunkle Stan’s nerves, and he got frustrated before he…stormed away and punched a wall about it?”

A pause. “…Even though he already punched Bill in the face last night and probably wouldn’t have to just punch a wall if Bill was getting on his nerves again?”

Mabel flumped over her knees with another groan. “You see? They are fighting! And now Grunkle Ford’s down in his lab doing lots of secret sciencey stuff, while Grunkle Stan’s over on the boat, doing secret boaty stuff—”

They all turned their heads in the direction of the Stan-O’-War 2 before she continued: “They’re doing stuff by themselves instead of together, like last year!”

She pulled her collar back over her face. “I don’t want things to be like last year…”

While Dipper gave her shoulder another comforting pat, Wendy kept her attention fixed on the Stan-O’-War 2 for a bit longer, before letting it travel across the yard towards the waiting Manotaur stage at the edge of the woods.

A stage which she eyed for a second, then the flashlight in her hand for another, before turning back to the twins with a wink. “Hey, you know, we never got around to having that fight yesterday,” she said. “You dorks up for—oh, wait, lemme just—”

She held up the Shrink Ray and fired it at the stage, quickly rushing to shake it clean of any debris left from the previous day’s performance. And once it was properly cleared and regrown to its original size, she spun around to face them again. “Alright, so now that we don’t have to worry about stepping on broken glass and wood, you dorks up for a little random gratuitous violence to get out some of those bad Bill feelings?”

Dipper’s mouth curled into a small smile as he gave his sister’s shoulder a light nudge. “Whaddaya think, Mabel? Would punching out some of those feelings about the jerky jerkface make you feel better?”

There was a pause, before Mabel pulled the collar back down again with a curious peek. “Can I pretend you’re Bill while we fight?”

After another wink in her direction, Wendy slapped a hand over one eye. “Come on, Falling Star!” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Betcha wanna punch me real hard in my stupid, triangle face!”

With a grin, Mabel bounded to her feet with delight. “Actually, he calls me ‘Shooting Star’,” she corrected. “But if you do that funny voice again, I’m so in!”

“Atta girl,” Wendy said, the hand over her eye shifting into a thumbs up before she broke into a sprint toward the stage steps. “Come on, let’s get our swings in before Soos and Melody notice that I’m taking my break!”

— — — — — — —

“Massive Maude? Nah, nah, that wouldn’t work—little jerk can’t leave town. Ahab’s Harpoon through the chest? Nope, can’t kill him—”

Stan flipped to the next page with a huff, his fingertip trailing down past every little location, creature, and discovery Ford had listed during their oversea adventures. 

And as he’d initially suspected, most of the potential ways to rid themselves of a pesky triangle demon involved killing Bill outright—deeming themselves a no-go, according to Ford’s previously-established mumbo-jumbo about how they couldn’t kill the body.

Stan let out another gruff sigh as he slammed the journal shut. Yeesh, his only lead and so far it was proving to be completely useless. Too bad Ford had made the choice to chuck all the other journals down into the Bottomless Pit. It had probably been really cathartic for him, but in hindsight, they would’ve really come in handy at a time like this—

“Wait a sec—”

He pressed a hand to his chin, the metaphorical ding of a lightbulb almost audible as an idea began to form. It was a longshot after what happened last year—so much was scattered after the kids turned the Shack into a massive fighting robot that he wasn’t sure if there would be anything left to find.

But on the other hand, the only thing that had managed to pry open his safe in the past had been straight up dynamite. Meaning anything that had been locked away during last summer’s rigamarole had a fifty-fifty chance at still being there to this day.

Moving the hand to his hair, he turned his gaze to the door. The idea also required him to venture back into the house, which came with the risk of running into Ford again.

And the last thing Stan wanted or needed was to get into another row with him, especially not in front of everyone else. 

Not that he wouldn’t deserve getting an earful from Ford after what he’d said earlier, but—

After letting the hand drag back down his face as slowly as possible, he exhaled a groan and made his way across the room to the door. Heck with it—even if Ford still wanted to handle all of this alone, at least Stan could try to be of some use to him and get all his research together in one place. Whether or not he wanted to use it was up to Ford himself, but at least he’d have the option if Stan’s intuition turned out to be correct.

Plus even if it was a longshot, could he really call himself a true gambler if he cowered away from risky odds?

…Not to mention his office was pretty close to the stairs and he could always make a mad dash back to the boat if Ford came up the hall.

— — — — — — —

“Alright, squirts, let’s see who can knock me down!”

Wendy raised her fists with a determined look. “Come on, who wants to go first?”

From the opposite end of the stage, Mabel pressed her own hands to her mouth in a giggle. “Hey, I thought you said you were gonna act like Bill while we fought?”

“Yeah, no sense in getting out these bad Bill feelings without the Bill part, right?” Dipper added.

With a nod of agreement, Wendy’s hand returned to her eye as a wide, devious smile spread across her face. “Hahahaha, look at me!” she said in that same high-pitched voice from before. “I’m a stupid triangle who throws bad parties and wears a dumb hat!”

While the twins dissolved in a fit of laughter, she stomped around the stage in an exaggerated fashion. “I think I’m the coolest and most powerful guy in the world, but I was defeated by an old man punching me in my stupid, dumb face!”

“Don’t forget kittens and tickles!” Mabel jeered in delight.

“I was defeated by kittens, tickles, and an old man punching me in my stupid, dumb face! Do-do-dodo, I’m so stupid and terrible!”

She stuck her tongue out for an extended raspberry—an action that only earned more laughter—and made a beckoning motion towards Dipper with her hand. “Come on, Pine Tree!” she taunted. “Betcha can’t knock me on my sorry, triangle butt!”

After a few deep breaths to compose himself, Dipper raised his fists. “Betcha I can!”

“Aww, wait, why’s he get to go first?” Mabel whined. “Didn’t we come over here so I could get out some of my bad Bill feelings?”

“Well, yeah,” Dipper said. “But I mean, I’ve got beef with Bill too. And throwing a couple of punches about it would probably be fun.”

“Rock-paper-scissors to see who goes first?” Wendy suggested.

The twins exchanged another look—and after a quick three rounds, Mabel was left disappointed while Dipper took his spot on the stage near Wendy. However, her sour mood was quickly replaced with a fist pump and several supportive cheers of: “Go, Dipper! Play dirty if you gotta!”

Dipper chuckled. “Mabel, come on, I’m not gonna—”

Without warning, he rushed at Wendy with a charging fury and threw as much of his weight against her body as he could muster. Despite the unexpected attack, Wendy managed to stay solid on her feet—

—until Dipper’s arms were suddenly wrapped around her lower legs and he gave a sharp yank towards his own body, causing her to stumble and fall hard to the stage from a lack of balance.

Still clutching her legs, Dipper stared with a look of complete bewilderment on his face—as if his own successful attempt to bring her down had surprised even himself. “Haha, woah—I can’t believe that worked!” he said with a shaky laugh. “I’ve never actually tried that with anyone but Waddles before!”

“Woo! Go Dipper!” Mabel called, clapping her hands with proud enthusiasm. “I’ll bet if you’d done that to the real Bill, he would’ve been soooooo embarrassed!”

From the stage, Wendy let out a laugh of her own. “She’s not wrong. Also, you can let go of me now.”

With a yelp of surprise, Dipper dropped her legs in an instant. “Ah—sorry!”

Despite the hard thump of her legs against the stage, Wendy was quick to pull herself up into a proper kneeling position. “No worries, dude,” she reassured him with a grin. “Pretty sweet trick, though. Where’d you learn that?”

“A few months back, Waddles found the secret stash of snacks I hid under my bed and kept being real determined to get to them,” he explained. “It was either establish dominance and learn how to drag him out from under the bed by his lower half, or admit defeat to a pig.”

He flexed his arm with a smile. “And guess who didn’t have to admit defeat to a pig~?”

“And now you know how to knock down Wendy!” Mabel called from her spot. “Sounds like someone needs to give Waddles a well-earned thank you later.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just move your snack haul somewhere else?”

“Closet’s too full of Mabel’s sweaters and the dresser makes everything taste like lint,” Dipper said matter-of-factly.

“Well, either way, color me impressed,” Wendy said, before looking to where Mabel was situated. “Alright, Mabel, you’re up next~!”

Dipper approached her, holding his hand out for a hi-five. “Go get ‘em!”

Mabel slapped his hand with gusto as they passed each other and bounded over to where Wendy waited for her. “Okay, ‘Bill’,” she said, raising her fists. “Put ‘em up!”

Winking in return, Wendy slapped a hand back over her eye and thumbed the other across her nose. “Alright, Shooting Star,” she said with a fake sneer. “Let’s see what you got!”

“Woo! Go Mabel!” Dipper cheered from the side.

With a laugh, Mabel took a fighting stance of her own—

—only for her attention to shift towards something else at the far end of the yard. 

The other two followed her gaze over to the Stan-O’-War 2, where Stan could be seen exiting the cabin and making his way across the deck towards the ladder. With a smile, Mabel cupped her hands around her mouth and called loudly: “Hey, Grunkle Stan, over here!”

While his body language was low as his feet touched the ground, Stan perked up at the sound of Mabel’s voice—and his mouth spread into a smile when he turned around to see the rest of the kids gathered with her. 

He moved towards them with quick, determined steps—or as quickly and determined as a man his age could move—before he eventually slowed to a stop near the stage. “Whatcha gremlins gremlinin’ about out here?” he asked, propping his arms over the edge.

“They’re wrestling me while I pretend to be Bill,” Wendy explained. “Since they can’t exactly punch the real thing right now, I thought maybe getting a few swings in at someone pretending to be him would do the trick.”

Mabel hurried to Stan and seated herself near him, legs dangling down over the side. “Dipper won his fight!” she said excitedly. “And I was about to fight her next!”

“I pulled her legs out from under her,” Dipper elaborated, as he followed in his sister’s steps and seated himself on Stan’s opposite side.

Stan raised an eyebrow at Dipper. “Wo-ow, first the body hair and now you’re actually winning fights? You really are growin’ into a tried-and-true Pines, ain’tcha, kid?”

He reached up to plap a hand against the top of his hat. “You didn’t hear that from me, though, so don’t go gettin’ a big head about it.”

While Dipper beamed with pride, Wendy shot him a finger gun. “What about you, Mr. Pines?” she asked. “You up for getting a little of that Bill aggression outta your system?”

“Like you gotta ask,” Stan said. “Don’t think I should be wrestlin’ any of you about it, though. Not unless you’re lookin’ to get snapped in half.”

“I take offense at the implication that you could snap me in half,” Wendy said, although her grin implied otherwise.

“I take offense at the implication that I couldn’t.”

He let out a chuckle at that, one that slowly petered out into a halfhearted grumble. A sound that made the twins exchange a look of curiosity before Mabel asked: “So what’ve you been doing out here, Grunkle Stan?”

“Wendy said you went outside to the boat,” Dipper explained. “But she didn’t say why.”

Stan looked to Wendy with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“What, was I not allowed to tell your beloved great-niece-and-nephew where their great-uncle had gone?” Wendy asked innocently, and leaned over to place a hand atop each of the twin’s heads. “They were just worried about how you missed breakfast.”

“Yeah, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel added, before her expression fell. “Plus Grunkle Ford was heading down to the basement with Bill, and he said that the two of you were fighting…”

At the mention of Ford, the gruffness in Stan’s expression shifted. “Ford said we were fighting?”

“Nah, Bill did,” Dipper corrected. “Probably to try and get a rise out of us.”

He cast a look beyond Stan over to Mabel. “Which is why Grunkle Ford told us not to listen to anything he says.”

“I’m not listening to him,” Mabel insisted. “Plus, weren’t you were the one who said they seemed really tense in the hallway earlier!”

“All I said was that if Grunkle Stan really needed to punch Bill again, he would’ve done it instead of just punching a wall,” Dipper said, then glanced hesitantly at Stan. “But, uh—is everything okay between you two? You seemed really stressed earlier, and y’know…you didn’t go down with Ford to take care of Bill.”

Stan looked between them, the uncertainty in their features near identical to the faintest hints of concern threatening to peek their way through his own. And with a strained inhale to force it all back down again, he stood up straight and pointed a finger at them. “Ford’s absolutely right, you shouldn’t trust a word outta that jerk’s mouth,” he said. “Whatever’s goin’ on with the two of us, it ain’t any of Bill’s business and it definitely ain’t a fight.”

“But it’s something?” Wendy chimed in.

“It’s somethin’ that ain’t any business a’yours either,” Stan said firmly, giving her a wave of his hand before pointing it back at the younger twins. “And that goes double for you two. Like I told you last night, you’re here to have fun for the summer. Don’t go gettin' yourselves all worked up over all this Bill stuff or the stuff between me and Ford, alright?”

Mabel let her body flump forward until her forehead was gently pressed against the tip of his finger. “But we wanted to have fun over the summer with both you and Grunkle Ford,” she pointed out. “How can we do that if he’s too busy dealing with Bill? Or if you two are fighting?”

His expression softened at this motion and he let his hand fall. “Well, now, I can’t give an answer to that first question—lean back again for a sec, Pumpkin—” 

While she obliged, Stan rotated himself around to lean his back against the stage. “Like I was sayin’, I can’t give an answer to that first one,” he continued, draping one arm around her body. “But as for the second—just because the two of us are buttin’ heads about all of this doesn’t—”

He hesitated for a millisecond, before continuing: “—it doesn’t mean we’re fighting. And it doesn’t mean that the rest of the summer’s gonna be a bust, alright? Just means that we’re gonna have to deal with some rough patches first.”

He turned to Dipper, slinking his other arm around his shoulders. “And as for you, you little knucklehead—you heard Ford earlier; he’s got himself a plan to deal with our little yellow headache down in his lab. And if he needs help, he’ll ask for it!”

“Maybe…” Dipper agreed halfheartedly. “Still, I hate to agree with Bill about anything, but he did have a point about Grunkle Ford’s ideas not exactly being the best ones out there after a full night with no sleep…”

“Ugh, he said that?” Mabel asked with a sneer.

“Yeah,” Dipper said, disgust painting his own expression. “He was practically rubbing it in Ford’s face.”

“Hey, hey, what did I say?” Stan said. “Take your own advice, kid, and don’t believe a word outta that little creep's mouth! You know he’s just tryin’ to get under your skin, so he ain’t worth the time of day.”

With a sense that the fight was going to be paused for a bit, Wendy hopped down from the stage and aimed the shrink ray towards the mermaid tank. “You know, Dr. Pines probably would get rid of Bill much quicker if he had someone helping him down there.”

Stan narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, come on, don’t you start now.”

“I’m just saying,” Wendy continued, before pressing the shrink button. “I mean, I’m sure he’s got his reasons for going at it alone—

Once the tank was shrunken down, she strolled over to scoop it up off the ground. “—but working together took the little fucker down last time, didn’t it?”

She tilted the small tank forward and let the water—the volume now barely enough to fill a teacup—spill out over the grass. After giving it a few additional shakes for good measure, she spun on her heels back to face the others—

—only to be greeted by mirrored looks of shock on all three of their faces. “...What?”

More surprised blinking followed as they stared at her with mouths agape, before Stan finally slapped a hand to his forehead. “Are you kidding me, Wendy?! I worked so hard not to swear in front of these kids last year and you go and throw all of it out the window in a single, goddamn sentence!”

“I’m just more surprised that you swore at all,” Mabel said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before!”

“Come to think of it, I actually don’t remember hearing anyone swear around here last summer,” Dipper said thoughtfully. “Which is such an oddly specific thing to…I dunno, not hear? Kids swear all the time at school, Mom and Dad swear at home sometimes—”

“I know you let out a very hearty f-word the other day when you bumped your toe on the coffee table,” Mabel added.

“It was the left pinky, I was completely justified and will not apologize.”

“It is weird!” Wendy agreed, before tucking the mermaid tank into the storage box. “Actually, I got this totally wild story to go with it—one I was trying to tell Stan yesterday before all this dumb Bill stuff started.”

After tucking the flashlight back into her belt loop, she raised her hands for emphasis. “Okay, so you remember how the couch we found in the woods last year was like, mega-infested with rats?”

“Dipper screamed so loud when one tried to crawl up his legs!” Mabel said with a grin.

“Once again; moment of weakness, it could’ve easily happened to anyone.”

“So anyway, Soos, Melody and I managed to get most of ‘em out of the house,” Wendy continued. “But after that, something felt different about the town. Not bad different, just…different.”

“Elaborate,” Stan said.

“Well, there was the time when Nate and Lee got together, and have kinda been having an on-off thing going on since,” she said, and began to tick off her fingers. “Then at some point, one of the Manotaurs decided that she felt more comfortable being called Womanotaur instead—all the boys came together and collectively punched a piece of metal until it was dented into the right shape for a celebratory carabiner—”

“Ooh, ooh, and at another point your dad and Mayor Tyler started dating?” Mabel guessed.

“Yeah, yeah, something like that,” Wendy said, looking mildly annoyed for a second. “Couple of folks also started realizing some things about themselves in a similar way, people started swearing a lot more than they did last year—

She tossed her hands in the air. “—and all of that only started happening after the rats were gone!”

“That sounds like a load of stupid fresh from the stupid factory,” Stan said. “But also I wouldn’t put it past this town to have some weird rats be the source of everyone’s inability to swear or for two men to start mackin’ on each other or something.”

“Everything going alright out here?”

Everyone turned to see Soos and Melody approaching from the shack, clipboards and a large box of party decorations in hand. “We figured Wendy would probably be done with cleanup by now,” Melody explained. “So we thought we’d start bringing out the decorations.”

“Did we give you enough time for amusing and exposition-y conversations that would be stimulating enough to get you through the work quicker?” Soos asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just one sec—” Wendy said, and turned back to the Manotaur stage. “Alright, everybody clear outta the way.”

Mabel’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “Aww, we’ve gotta finish cleaning up? But we didn’t get to have our fight! Again!”

“Maybe not, but it did distract you long enough to get to the decorating part, right?” Dipper pointed out, and hopped down from the stage. “Wasn’t that the point in the first place?”

“Mmm, I guess,” Mabel said sadly as she hopped down after him. “Still, would’ve been fun to fight Wendy while she’s pretending to be Bill.”

Soos raised an eyebrow at Wendy, who shrugged in response. “We were working out our feelings,” she explained. “But since we’re moving on to the actual decorating part, how’s about we put a pin in that fight for now and work on drowning this place in decorations?”

She raised the flashlight and took aim for the stage. “Also again, step outta the way or you’re gonna get caught in the crossfire.”

Once the three of them had cleared away from the stage, Wendy once again shrank it to a more manageable size. While she stored it away with the other exhibits, Soos reached a hand into the box of decorations. “Like I said earlier, we’ve got just about every color of streamer under the sun! Plus some colors under the moon, too!”

He pulled out a few rolls of streamers and waved it in front of Mabel. “Who wants to toss a bunch of them up onto the roof like they’re TP-ing the Shack, but with color~?”

Despite Mabel’s initial disappointment towards another postponement of the fight, a smile began to creep its way through her features at Soos’ suggestion. “Oh, like you’ve gotta ask~!”

She reached for one of the rolls before casting a look at Stan. “You wanna help us decorate for the party, Grunkle Stan?”

“Nah, I actually came out here for a reason,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Gotta go fetch somethin’ from my office.”

He gave her a thumbs up as he started making his way towards the porch. “You kids have fun, though, and no more stressin’ about all this Bill stuff, okay?” he said, then looked over to Wendy. “Also lemme take a look at that shrink-thing later, Wendy! You could make a fortune with a doo-dad like that!”

“We’re already workshopping names,” Wendy called in return.

A second thumbs up was his response as he headed up the porch steps and disappeared out of sight. Mabel continued to stare at the porch, optimistic expression sinking back into a look of sadness until Soos gave the streamer bag another shake. “Check it out, Mabel! The lady at the store even said she named one of the shades of pinkish-purple after you! She calls it ‘Pink-Mab-urple!”

After staring for a few more seconds, she finally turned to Soos with a grin. “Uh, why didn’t you start with that, Soos? Slap a roll of Pink-Mab-urple in my hand and let’s get this streamer train rolling!”

— — — — — — — —

With all the stress of the past twenty-four hours, Ford had almost forgotten what it was like to feel relaxed.

Granted, he hadn’t felt truly relaxed since his early childhood. But the past nine months up until Bill’s return had been the closest he’d gotten to recapturing that ease of his adolescence.

And for the fleeting moment before the fairy dust made impact with Bill’s face, a surge of anxiety rushed through him as the possibility of the dust losing its potency after decades of disuse reared its ugly head. That by some cruel twist of fate, it simply wouldn’t work against Bill at all.

But within seconds, Bill slumped like a lifeless ragdoll against the chair’s restraints and Ford could physically feel some of the stress melt away from his being.

Not all of it; there was always a chance that the fairy dust hadn’t worked and that Bill was simply pretending to be knocked unconscious. But the sight alone was enough to grant him the smallest sense of comfort.

Still—

He finally pulled out the hand he had slipped into his picket after tossing the dust, a small pocketknife clutched tightly in his grasp. After a few more seconds, he flicked open the main blade and knelt in front of Bill’s body.

He hesitated—hand trembling around the weapon as the temptation to do more than a simple act of research examination bubbled up inside his chest. But with a shake of his head, he reached for one of Bill’s restrained hands and lightly pressed the tip of the knife into his palm.

Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt if he was truly faking his unconscious state. And after a few seconds passed with no vocal complaints from Bill, Ford let out an exhale of relief.

He wasn’t faking. At least there was that fact.

But Ford also knew not to let his guard down completely, nor was he foolish enough to think that the fairy dust’s effects would last forever. He had to move quickly.

Reassured that Bill was properly unconscious, Ford moved to the binds that kept Bill tied to the chair. It was a risk to free Bill completely, but his plan wouldn’t work if the body was still bound by the unicorn spell.

He pressed the blade against one rope and inhaled slowly, before bringing it upwards in a clean cut—

—and quickly backed up as the tiny body slacked to the floor in a crumpled heap.

His grip on the knife tightened as he stepped back out of the circle, as if he still expected Bill to drop his facade and finally take advantage of his chance at freedom. But when the fairy dust continued to prove effective, he returned to Bill's side to cut his wrist binds.

Once Bill was completely unbound from all angles, Ford looked to the puppet he had tossed at his feet. Sure, it had been a five-minute effort but Bill was far from picky when it came to his vessels of choice. And if he suddenly decided to start being picky once he’d reawakened—

—well, too bad, Cipher.

His gaze moved back to the unconscious body again, eyes landing on his face. Naturally he’d written down the research he’d gathered, and he hadn’t been lying to Bill when he said it was to figure out the proper dosage of fairy dust to knock him unconscious. The stuff was powerful enough to put a full-grown unicorn to sleep; too much on a body Bill’s size could potentially have disastrous effects.

And even if Ford’s attempt to contact the body’s original owner had failed, his main concerns still lingered—he still had no way of knowing how harming the physical body would affect Bill himself.

That being said, his quick and simple research had provided Ford with a few interesting discoveries.

As he’d initially hypothesized, every studied part of Bill’s vessel really did scream teenager—or at the very least being on the cusp of teenagerhood. A lack of wisdom teeth pinpointed the body as younger than twenty, and his quick count of almost-thirty teeth settled his guess between the ages of about twelve to fifteen. 

General appearance seemed to back up that fact; limbs were gangly and awkward—even moreso than what would normally be expected from Bill in a human body—those yellow, catlike eyes sat large on his face, larger than they would on the face of an adult—

It was so odd. Of all the vessels to possess, why would Bill choose that of a human teenager? It certainly added credence to the theory that he hadn’t possessed a choice in the matter, but it also added credence to the theory that he had specifically sought out such a body as a way to purposefully mess with Ford and the rest of his family.

Once again, more theories without a clear answer.

With a huff, Ford set the knife near his boot that was furthest away from Bill—putting down his weapon was another risk, but at least he’d had the advantage if he needed to grab it in a hurry—and reached into his pocket again. 

This time his efforts rewarded him with a worn scrap of paper, one he unfolded with both hands and set to the ground in front of him. He might’ve tossed the journals down into the Bottomless Pit, but a proper scientist always had backup options when it came to his research.

…Granted, the backup in question was an old spell he had hidden away during one of those sleep-deprived days between Bill’s betrayal and the portal incident, but it would still prove effective nonetheless. 

Thank goodness he had possessed enough foresight to keep it out of the journals and tucked safely between the edge of his desk and the wall, somewhere Bill had clearly not thought to look during the brief periods when his body had succumbed to sleep.

His gaze narrowed with determination at the body again. Omniscient abilities or not, even Bill Cipher possessed blindspots. A piece of paper tucked between the wall and desk. A lack of knowledge on how to collapse the weirdness barrier that surrounded the town.

An extra finger on a hand where it shouldn’t be, or vice versa.

Shaking his head, Ford turned back to the paper. A wiser man might’ve tried to actually use the spell back when he originally discovered it. But a number of variables—no additional person to read the spell while Bill was in his body, no knowledge on whether or not it would actually work as intended, a general lack of sleep across those several days—had prevented Ford from attempting such a method at the time. And once he’d properly returned home after the portal incident, the metal place in his head had already been installed—rendering such a spell mostly pointless.

Until now.

After scribbling down a few additions, he cleared his throat and began to recite aloud: “Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

He paused, looking to the puppet and body for a moment before continuing with a bit more confidence: “Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto…Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum—”

— — — — — — —

Whenever Bill lounged around in the space between the Nightmare Realm and the mortal world, there was always a clear lack of color. 

Whether he was situated inside a dark room, outside over a summoning circle or inside the bedroom closet of an easily-frightened child—always watching, but never seen—the scenery of the mindscape was always draped in a monochromatic curtain of black and white. Here, however—the warm browns of the study had only dulled the slightest amount while still maintaining their general color.

Heck, Bill might not have even noticed the difference at first, had it not been for Ford. Rather than be subjected to more violence at the man’s hand, it was as if time had completely frozen for him. The arm that had tossed the fairy dust into Bill’s face was still outstretched, but remained still and unmoving in the air.

Bill’s mouth curled into a smirk, and he made no effort to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at him. “Hehe, what’s wrong, Fordsy~?” he asked, leaning forward. “Can’t access the mindsca—ACK!”

He leaned forward too far and hit the hard ground with a thud and an irritable yelp, face once again squished against the floor. Unlike the other times he’d fallen throughout the past day, however—his body felt noticeably lighter and chair-free.

Grin widening further, he pulled himself off the ground until he was standing up proper. Once on his feet, he took a step to grow more accustomed to using legs again. One step, then two more—before he simply launched his body up into the air to hover in place.

Oh, how he loved the Mindscape to pieces~! Possessing people was fun and all, but it came with the unfortunate side effect of not being able to use his powers.

Not in the Mindscape, though~! Here he could do just about anything he wanted!

Speaking of which—

He cast another look in the inanimate Ford’s direction, while a wicked grin spread across his face. Sure, any harm caused to his body in the mindscape wouldn’t carry over to the real world. But at the same time, fireball or two to the chin would probably get rid of that stupid beard for a few glorious minutes, right? Perhaps a fireball full of spiders? 

Why not? The past twelve hours had been so frustrating dull for Bill, and he deserved a nice little treat for himself.

He raised his hand into the air with a giddy little laugh, as he waited for the familiar blue flames to blossom from his palm—

—hey, wait.

Bill snapped his attention to what should’ve been a pitch-black hand engulfed in flames. And while the flames had indeed begun to spread out from his palm and up towards his fingertips, the hand itself was still clearly one made of flesh and blood. Just as flesh and blood as the legs he had wobbled on mere seconds ago as he took a few steps. 

Legs that his gaze quickly fell to, realization beginning to take hold of him as his concerns were reaffirmed; black, panted legs attached to a body that was clearly still humanoid.

His hands instinctively moved to touch the opposite arms—as if touching them would somehow transform them back into the twig-thin limbs he was used to having—and then to his chest and stomach—as if touching them would somehow transform him back into his familiar, triangle shape.

When neither attempt bore any results, he blinked a few times in sheer confusion. Okay, so something was clearly wrong. Jumping out of a body into the mindscape should’ve at least reverted his soul back to its usual shape and form. So why was he still stuck in a useless flesh-suit?

He moved his gaze around the study before his attention fell back on Project Mentem, eyes once again locking with one of the unbroken screens. He hadn’t gotten a proper glimpse at his vessel’s face the first time around, but if he was currently situated in the mindscape and able to move freely—

Just before he could make out the shape of his face in the monitor’s reflection, however, the dull colors around it began to distort and—

—well, there was no better term for it than ‘melt’.

Every color in the room—from the warm browns of the nearby shelves and desk, to the dull grays of Ford’s entire being—started to melt towards the floor, leaving behind the usual, monochromatic palette of the Mindscape.

And once all the colors reached the floor, they slowly converged into a muddy blob in the very center of the room. Converge, then shift into a single tint of orange.

Or if Bill wanted to get specific with it—tangerine.

Oh. 

Great.

Sure enough, the blob of tangerine began to twist and morph into a clear silhouette of the shelduck, a loud, giddy laugh echoing through the study even before their beak had fully taken form. “Wow, it looks like someone’s had a busy first day, huh?” they said, placing their hands on their hips once both appeared. “Not even back in town for a full twenty-four hours and they’ve already brought you down to the study for research.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed in their direction. Oh, contract or not, he was going to pluck every single one of their feathers out with the Multiverse’s rustiest pair of tweezers once this was all over!

For the time being, he simply folded his arms across his chest with an unimpressed huff. “Yeesh, took you long enough to get your butt down here, Birdbrain!” he said irritably. “Do you know what kinda day I’ve ha—oh, actually, you just said you did, didn’t you?”

He tossed his hands in the air. “Well, if you could see what kinda day I was having, why haven’t you stepped in yet? Thought you were all about helping people in need or whatever?”

He made a casual gesture in Ford’s direction. “Well, I’ve sure needed some help getting away from him!”

Tangy held up their own hands with a guilty smile. “Okay, okay, I realize you have some concerns,” they said. “I don’t blame you, you’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time.”

One hand went to their forehead. “And admittedly, I’m mostly here because I realized I forgot to tell you a few things!”

“Oh, gee, you think?” Bill said, moving the gesture towards himself. “How about you start with explaining why you kept the fact that you’d be sticking me in a vessel like this a secret? Or why I’m still a pile of meat, bones and nerves in the mindscape instead of my usual form?”

“You—wait…”

They lowered their hand to give him a perplexed tilt of their head. “You mean you haven’t figured out what’s happening yet?”

“I mean, I figured out that you think you’re clever,” Bill said with a roll of his eyes. “Sticking me in a vessel this small for your dumb game, all without telling me ahead of time? That’s real cute, Birdbrain.”

A shrug, one accompanied by a smirk. “Hehe, what, did my short jokes bother you that bad?”

“No, they didn’t, but—”

“Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

The sound of Ford’s voice echoing through the mindscape turned both their attention to the ceiling, the imaginary mindscape shaking and rattling around them as he continued: “Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

Bill’s brow furrowed at the sound, attention moving back to the still-inanimate Ford. So that was Sixer’s big plan, huh? To try his hand at a transfer spell while the vessel was unconscious?

That sneaky jerk, always trying to go behind his back—

“Oh, so, he’s trying that, huh?”

And back his attention and furrowed brow went to Tangy. Speaking of jerks, the feathered jerk needed to stop stealing his lines and get to their jerk point already! “You said you had something to tell me,” he said, hovering closer to them. “So hurry up and spill the beans before Sixer succeeds in doing whatever he’s doing out there!”

“Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

“Quickly, Birdbrain, we don’t have all day!”

Tangy looked to the ceiling again. “Yeah, I dunno if I’ll actually have the time to cover everything at this rate,” they said, and held up a finger. “But he won’t succeed in getting you outta that body, if that’s what you’re worried about!”

“Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

Between the chanting from Ford and the crypticness from Tangy, Bill could physically feel his face reddening with anger. “Birdbrain, if you don’t explain right now—”

“Sorry, don’t have time!” they said quickly. “But I promise that this won’t be the last time we chat, and I can cover everything else the next time we do! Plus there’s always the thing on your wrist—”

“Wait, the what—”

There was a flash of light before all the color that had congregated to make Tangy’s form sank back into the floor and slowly started returning to the rest of the room.

And as the last little bits of brown and grays situated themselves back into place, Bill’s hovering body hit the floor again with a hard thud.

His eyes snapped closed on impact, then snapped open again with a shout.

— — — — — — —

“—aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto…Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

With a final recital of the spell, Ford leaned back with another shuddery exhale of relief. Whether his attempt to shift Bill from one vessel to the other proved successful or not, the spell still required a few minutes of waiting for the end result.

While he waited, he let his gaze move once again to the unconscious child’s forehead. It had given him pause upon observation; not for any research purposes, but for the birthmark that waited beneath that mop of blonde hair—

“AAH!”

Ford jumped at the sound of a yell echoing through his study, the surprise of Bill suddenly moving again causing him to stumble backwards and trip over—and sever—the rope circle he had created on the floor.

Leaving a few inches of empty space between the ends of the rope.

Bill’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as he snapped back to consciousness, his screams of surprise petering out into sharp inhales of breath while he jerked up into a sitting position.

And with a final, shuddery exhale to ground himself—Yeesh, this body was weird. Who was in charge of designing a pile of flesh who needed oxygen, but not too much oxygen at once, to live?—his gaze locked to a still-floored Ford.

He stared, Ford stared back.

His functional pupil flitted down to the severed circle—

“Cipher, don’t you DARE!”

And Bill took off like a flash in the direction of the emergency exit staircase.

Ford was after him in seconds—rope and knife in hand—and the heavy thud of his boots against the medal stairs rung throughout the study over Bill’s maniacal cackling as he hurried for the cellar door.

Perhaps leaving fairy dust in a bag for over thirty years hadn’t been the best idea after all.

— — — — — — —

“Okay, so party preparations for today…” 

Melody tapped her clipboard with the end of her pen, before turning to Mabel at her left. “We’ve got Mabel on the streamers—”

Mabel held up the rolls in her hands with a look of pride. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be fishing them out of the gutters for years!”

“Please don’t actually give me that much more work to do,” Wendy said from her right.

“...You’ll be fishing them out of the gutters for years in theory,” Mabel corrected herself. “In actuality, I’ll be cleaning them up myself so Wendy doesn’t have to!”

While Wendy gave her a thumbs up, Melody looked to her list again. “And we’ve got Dipper on balloon duty—”

Dipper shifted the countless packs of balloons in his embrace to one arm so he could give her a salute. “There won’t be a single bare table, chair, or loose area where a balloon can easily be tied to when I’m done with this place!”

“Just be careful not to tie too many to the shack itself,” Soos chimed in. “Otherwise they could, like, carry it up and away in the air!”

He made a series of floating motions with his hand. “You know like…WOOSH! Just floating all the way up into the sky!”

“Soos, you realize that’s probably impossible, right?” Dipper pointed out. “Do you know how many balloons we’d need to be able to rip through the foundation alone? They’d lose their helium way faster than I could inflate the necessary amount—”

“Poke!”

“Hey!”

While Dipper slapped his now-freed hand to his cheek where Mabel had poked him, she waved her arms around in a playful fashion. “Ooh, look at me, I’m Dipper~!” she teased. “I’ve seen gnomes, giant Manotaurs and dream demons, but balloons lifting up a house is impossible~!”

She leaned over to poke her again, and he nudged her back in amused retaliation. “Hey, come on, those things are actually real,” he pointed out with a chuckle. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t believe in a floating balloon house if it was right in front of me, but you know…it’s gotta prove itself possible first.”

“Balloons and the possibility of discovering something new,” Melody said, pressing a finger to her clipboard. “Check! Alright, what’s next?”

“I think we’ll wanna get the tables set up as soon as possible,” Soos chimed in. “I know we’ve still got hours until the party, but we’ve still gotta get all the food ready, right?”

He made a walking motion with his hand. “And who wants to make a buncha food, then carry a buncha tables outside—and then have to go back and carry out that same buncha food from before all in one go?” A shrug. “Just saying, babe, it’d be smart to get the tables out first, then focus on covering them with the food!”

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Melody said, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “I’ll help you get the first one out here if you want.”

She flashed the others a smile. “Wendy, do you want to help us with tables or stay out here and decorate with the twins?”

“Hey, I’ll take tossing up balloons and streamers over having to carry whole tables back and forth,” Wendy said.

Dipper looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. “...Don’t you have a shrink ray—oh, you’re not mentioning it just so you don’t get stuck carrying tables, aren’t you?”

“Sure am.”

“Have fun, dudes!" Soos called to them, as the two of them made their way to the porch. "Make this place look like a party threw up from spending too much time at another party!”

“You got it, Soos!” Mabel said with a salute. “Like I said earlier: by the time I’m done with this place, you’ll be fishing old streamers out of the gutters for years!”

A pause, before she added as an afterthought: “...Again, I mean that metaphorically, and not in the way that will give Wendy more work!”

With a laugh, Wendy gave her a light nudge as the adults disappeared inside the house. Once they were out of sight, she turned her attention towards the yard before them. “Alright, so what side should we get to decorating first?”

BANG!

A loud clattering of the nearby cellar doors caused everyone to jump in surprise, right before Bill came barrelling out of the darkness with a shrill laugh—

“GET BACK HERE!”

—while the sound of Ford’s voice thundered after him from the cellar.

Bill skidded to a stop in the dirt, taking a brief second to catch his breath until he looked over to where the kids stood.

They stared, he stared back—

“Quick, somebody grab him!” Ford’s voice yelled from the cellar, seconds before he himself appeared in the doorway.

—and Bill spun on his heels before sprinting towards the nearby wood.

Despite their initial shock, Wendy was quick to the draw with the shrink ray. Rather than shoot a beam at Bill, however, she aimed it towards something in the line of his path—a small rock that suddenly quintupled in size in a matter of seconds.

So few seconds that Bill didn’t have enough time to slow to a halt before his face and body slammed against the rock, the impact knocking him off his already-wobbly feet and bringing him down to the dirt with a thud.

His escape attempt was momentarily forgotten as he pressed a hand to his injured nose, before casting a bitter glare in Wendy’s direction. “Oh, that’s real mature, Red!” he called. “I suppose your next trick involves painting a tunnel on the side?”

“Haha!” Mabel said delightedly. “Nice one, Wendy!”

“Yeah, I’m really liking this thing,” Wendy said, with a small twirl of the flashlight.

“Did you hear me?!” Ford said sharply—probably sharper than intended—as he stepped out into the yard. “Someone catch him before he gets to the woods!”

“Oh, right—”

As Bill sprung back to his feet and took off in another direction, the rest of the group rushed after him in a frantic hurry. And despite the burning sensation in Bill’s lungs, he was cackling with wicked delight at the others’ misfortune as he rounded the side of the shack near the porch—

“Gotcha!”

—right before a large hand snagged the back of his jacket and yanked him backwards.

Despite Bill’s desperate attempts to struggle free, Stan’s grip remained strong as he hoisted him up in the air. “Nice try, pal.”

If Bill could feel his face reddening in anger within the Mindscape, the sensation was tenfold in the real world as he glared daggers at Stan. “Put me down!”

“Not happening, Pyramid Face.”

Ford came into view around the corner, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his chest as he drew closer. “Nice catch, Stanley…”

“Maybe to you, it is!” Bill protested, with a pointed glare at Stan. “Thought you were busy pouting on the boat, or whatever.”

“And I thought you were busy dyin’, or whatever,” Stan shot back, before looking back to Ford again. “Need to tie him up, or—”

“Right, right,” Ford said, unfurling the rope he’d snagged from the study. “Hold him out?”

While Stan extended him out to Ford—the sight of Bill’s body dangling as he struggled to break free reminiscent of a scruffed kitten—the kids also rounded the side of the house in a rush. At the sight of Stan holding Bill, they too slowed to a stop with looks of both relief and mild confusion. 

Confusion that Mabel finally vocalized with a: “What’s going on?”

“Aside from the obvious escape attempt on Bill’s end?” Dipper asked.

Despite his struggles, Bill couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh at Dipper's remark. “Aww, look who has eyes and a brain that can string together two coherent thoughts. You’re really movin’ up in the world, aren’tcha, Pine Tree—hey, hey! I felt that, Stanford!”

He shot a sour look at Ford, who had already started the process of rewrapping the rope around his body to restrain him. Restraint with clear intent on Ford’s end to be as uncomfortable for Bill as possible. And at Bill’s confrontation, Ford locked eyes with him and pulled the ends even tighter with an insincere: “Oops.”

While he moved to loop them again—and while Bill continued to try and struggle free—Stan raised an eyebrow. “Gonna guess whatever you were tryin’ down there didn’t work?”

“Oh, no, it worked perfectly~!” Bill replied in Ford’s place. “Clearly I’m now stuck in one of Sixer’s badly-made arts and crafts and—actually, I don’t exactly know what he planned on doing with me after that, so I can’t spin some dramatic yarn about it, but the point is that it obviously worked~!”

He gave Stan a cutesy bat of his eyelashes, which quickly fell into a flat look. “Asking questions like that is why you’re the dumber, sweatier twin. You realize this, right?”

Despite Stan’s fists tightening around Bill’s jacket in one hand and the stack of papers in the other, he kept his reply limited to an enraged stare that could’ve burned through a sheet of metal. From the side where the rest of the group stood, however, Mabel’s features lit up with intrigue as she took a cautious step closer. “Did he say arts and crafts project?”

“Pay him no mind, Mabel,” Ford instructed, as he fiddled with the rope further. “As I told you earlier, nothing he says is worth taking into account.”

Despite another tight yank of the ropes against his chest, Bill managed a disapproving tut. “Wooooow, Sixer, and here I was being open and honest to them about our exciting adventures down in the study,” he scolded. “I realize that the concept of honestly and openness is completely foreign to you, but there’s no time like the present to learn—ACK!”

Ford’s next rope tug forced a strangled gasp out of Bill’s chest that even he couldn’t mask with a snarky comment, and one that earned an uncomfortable wince from Dipper. “Grunkle Ford, I know he’s being a massive jerk and would probably deserve it, but you might suffocate him if you’re not careful.”

“Also what were you doing down in the study, Doc?” Wendy added, taking a step forward as well. “If you tell us, then he doesn’t have to, right?”

Despite his discomfort, Bill flashed her a small grin. “Doc? Hey, that’s not a bad one! Might add that one to the ol’ mental rolodex~!”

He tilted his head in Ford’s direction. “And she’s got a point, Fordsy! I mean, you can’t exactly get mad at me for spilling the beans when you aren’t willing to go and do it yourself, right!” he pointed out with a cackle. “Once again, we know you’re not exactly the expert at being honest with people, but I repeat my previous sentiments of ‘no time like the present to learn’!” 

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Or I guess it’s the best time for you mortals to learn, since you’re lacking one of those nifty little time dispensers or any sort of ultimate power like yours truly. But you get the idea!”

With a slow, shuddery exhale, Ford slackened his grip on the rope and reached around to loosen his previous loops. “Fine, Wendy—” he said, with strong emphasis on her name. “I suppose filling everyone in on the details wouldn’t cause any harm now.”

“Subtle,” Bill remarked, with an attempt—a failed attempt—to pull his arms free once the ropes were looser. “Also I bet you wish you hadn’t freed my hands now, huh?”

“As I informed Dipper and Stan earlier,” Ford continued. “I was attempting to move Bill’s soul from one vessel to another. I used fairy dust to knock him out in a second unicorn barrier and tossed a sock puppet into the circle, before I cut the binds that held him to the chair and attempted a transfer spell that would—well, as I said before, move him from one vessel to the other.”

“Fairy dust?” Mabel repeated, perking up further. “Sock puppets?”

“Magical, ain’t it, Shooting Star?” Bill asked. “But as I pointed out before, I’m still stuck in this body and not some badly-made puppet that Sixer put together in five minutes. So it was all for nothing~!”

His smile faltered as he glared back at Ford. “By the way, a transfer spell? That was your big, secret plan?” he asked with a scoff. “It’s so juvenile, I’m almost offended at your laziness. Props to you for finding one in the first place, though—didn’t realize you had one on hand! Too bad it didn’t work!”

“Woooow, and here I thought you were completely serious when you said it worked earlier,” Stan said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Of course you would, Goldfish,” Bill shot back with a smug grin. “Like I said; dumber and sweatier~! Not just pretty words tossed at you by your childhood bullies!”

Stan’s shoulders tensed further as Ford finally tied the rope off with a sturdy knot. “That should do it,” he said, then made a beckoning motion with his hand. “Alright, you can pass him over to me now.”

Stan stared at the hand, then down at Bill—earning another one of those toothy smiles of his; having a mouth really was a detriment to everyone but himself—before turning his gaze fully back to Ford.

Ford’s gaze was locked on him in return, any words he would’ve preferred to say silenced by the presence of Bill. Not just his presence but that of the kids, of Wendy—perhaps even by the presence of Stanley himself. An apology for earlier events lingering at the back of his throat, desperate to push itself out into the open, desperate to reach Stanley’s ears—

An apology almost identical to the one that Stan couldn’t bring himself to vocalize, the sheer vulnerability of such an action forcing him to avert his eyes from Ford to the kids, to Wendy, and finally to—

“No, no, don’t mind me,” Bill piped up. “If you two feel like fighting again, be my guests! And this time, you don’t even have a hallway to go out and fight in, so I get a front-row seat, baby~!”

Stan glowered at him before finally passing him off to Ford with a huff, one that allowed him a chance to push of that vulnerability back again. 

Most of it, at least. “So, uh—that plan of yours,” he began slowly. “It really didn’t work, then?—don’t you say a word, Cipher!”

He directed that last part at Bill, who simply grinned in response as Ford shook his head. “No, unfortunately it didn’t work. As Bill is so keen on reminding us, his soul remained inside his current vessel even after the transfer attempt.”

He held up a finger. “However, that doesn’t mean I’m out of ideas. If anything, I did learn a few interesting things that might allow me to try a method I initially rejected.”

“Oh, because of the whole—” Dipper began, before his gaze shifted to Bill again. “You know, the stuff we talked about earlier—”

“Precisely,” Ford replied before Bill could get a word in. “While my initial theory wasn’t proven wrong by the failed attempt, it did prove that—”

He paused and returned his attention to Bill for a moment, who gave another cutesy bat of his eyelashes. “Well, Sixer, we’re waiting~?”

“Oh, for the love of—” Wendy started, then continued forward until she’d joined the adults proper. “Turn him towards me for a sec.”

With a confused look from all of them—Bill included—Ford obliged and held Bill out further in front of him. Once she was at a safe angle, Wendy leaned over and slapped a hand over each of his ears, earning a very irritable “Oh, COME ON—” from him for her efforts. “Would’ve covered his mouth too, but I’m not looking for another rabies shot,” Wendy explained. “Plus he seems like the kinda guy who’s going to yell and whine about me doing this, and it’ll muffle anything you have to say.”

“I’ll bet you mortals think you’re SO advanced for possessing external ear lobes!” Bill yelled, whipping his head back and forth. “Well, the joke’s on you! If I were in my usual form, I wouldn’t possess such a horrible evolutionary flaw! In fact, I’ll probably just get rid of ears altogether once I’m outta this stupid body—”

“Wow, smart call,” Dipper said.

Despite Bill’s best efforts to shake her off, Wendy’s hands remained firm against his head as she raised an eyebrow at Ford. “Alright, you wanted to say something?”

Ford blinked a few times in surprise, but cleared his throat with his free hand before responding: “As I was saying and as I told Stan and Dipper this morning, I was originally hesitant to cause any lethal harm to Bill’s current vessel, due to—well—”

“The fact that he looks like Dipper?” Mabel asked.

“Oh, so you guys saw that too, huh?” Wendy asked with a grimace.

“We’ve seen it, acknowledged it—” Dipper added quickly. “But the main issue outside of that was that Grunkle Ford didn’t know if killing Bill’s vessel would actually kill Bill himself, since he’s a mind demon and stuff.”

“I had those concerns,” Ford continued. “But the failed transfer attempt proved a few things to me that I did not know at the time of those assumptions. I don’t have a lot of time to get into everything right now since, well—”

He gestured to the still-deafened Bill, who shot him a dirty look. “I know you’re talking about me! You think I don’t know your ‘showing off something as you talk about it’ gesture?”

“My point is—while the transfer failed, it taught me one important thing,” Ford said, while Bill droned on in anger. “While it’d still be dangerous to outright try killing Bill, he is unable to be pulled out of his current vessel.”

“...Meaning—?” Stan asked.

“Meaning that if he’s unable to be forcibly pulled out of his current vessel, there’s a high chance he also cannot leave of his own accord,” Ford explained. “Meaning he’s stuck. And if he’s stuck, there’s at least one specific thing we can try to get him out of our hair for the time being.”

“What is it?” Mabel asked.

“I’m going to take him down to the bunker and place him in one of the cryogenic chambers.”

“You’re gonna freeze him?” Wendy asked, then paused. “Woah, woah, time out—you had the idea to freeze him this whole time and you spent this long not doing that?”

“Well, to be fair, the process has only ever been used on the supernatural,” Ford explained. “I have no idea what kind of effect it’ll have on a human body, and the last thing I wanted to do is actually cause harm beyond repair to Bill’s vessel, for previously-explained reasons. But since my attempts to either contact the previous host or expunge him from the vessel were failures, it seems like a safe enough method to try next.”

“Hello?! Did we forget I was here?!”

Bill continued to shake his head about in an attempt to free his ears from Wendy’s hands, and Ford gave a nod to her to pull them back. “Anyway, what I told you is the current plan,” he said, while she obliged. “It shouldn’t take me too long to complete, and I should be back within an hour or so.”

“What, you’re going to the—” Dipper’s gaze bounced over to Bill for a split second “—the place we just talked about by yourself?”

“Oh, great recovery, Pine Tree,” Bill said. “By the way, it’s cute how you think that someone who’s been around the block as much as me doesn’t know how to read lips.”

He flashed the group a wide grin. “So if you guys wanna prattle on about how Sixer’s going to take me down to the bunker to pop me into one of those freezy-tubes like I were a pack of Mustelid Sticks, then by all means~!”

At the sight of their eyebrows shooting up their foreheads in surprise, Bill cackled in delight. “Wait, did I seriously get it right the first time?”

And as they attempted to settle their features back into more neutral expressions, he let out another elated cackle that rocked his entire body. “Haha, wow, I can’t believe that bluff actually worked!” he taunted. “I mean, it was my third guess, after ‘ultra-powerful vacuum’ and ‘fishing around inside my vessel’s ear with the soul-equivalent of those garbage-grabbing hooks’, but man, you guys gotta get better poker faces!”

“Yeah, well, so what if you’re right?” Mabel added, folding her arms across her chest. “What’re you gonna do about it to stop us from locking you up?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something~!” Bill said with a grin. “The universe does seem to have me in its favor when it comes to last-minute rescues~!”

He waggled his eyebrows at the group. “Do you get it? Because you jerks tried to kill me and I—hey!”

His smug look melted into annoyance as Ford gave his body a warning shake. “Don’t you worry about him, kids,” Ford said to the others. “No matter what he says, it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s out of our hair for good.”

“Going back to what Mabel was saying, though,” Stan said. “You’re really gonna handle this all by yourself?”

“Yeah, don’t you need someone to, like, push the buttons in the security room?” Wendy asked, then added as an afterthought: “I figure since he guessed the plan, we can talk about it freely now.”

“Hey, yeah!” Dipper agreed. “There’s no way you’ll be able to do the code all by yourself, especially not with Bill in your hands!”

“Once again, very hurtful that people are talking about me like I’m not even here,” Bill said with feigned offense. “But the peanut gallery raises a good point. Pretty sure that unless you’ve gained the ability to grow another pair of arms—not that you’d tell me if you did, I guess—you’ll be squished flatter than—well, me~!”

A pause, before he flashed Ford a grin. “And while imitation’s the sincerest form of flattery and I highly suggest you try it, I’d rather not be involved in said imitation attempt myself. You know what I mean?”

Rather than respond, Ford pressed his free hand to his chin. “I suppose the security room does provide me with an issue I hadn’t previously considered…”

Stan’s features lit up with a spark of inspiration, and his grip once again tightened around the stack of papers in his hand. “Hey, you know, if the cat’s outta the bag on that bunker plan,” he said, and began to flip through them with one hand. “I might have somethin’ that—”

“No, Stanley.”

It was said too quickly, far too quickly for either of their liking. And Stan’s thumbing through the papers was halted with a deflated look, one that earned a remorseful expression from Ford in return. “I—I appreciate you catching Bill for me, but I can handle this myself,” he said quickly, regaining his composure. “I’ll…simply deactivate the security room before I bring Bill through. It might add some extra time to my bunker venture, but it would make for an easy and safe transfer to the main lab area.”

“But I—”

“Yeah, so why don’t you do what I told you to do earlier, Goldfish,” Bill chimed in. “And run along and let the adults handle things here?”

Red once again flooded Stan’s vision, the stack of papers dropped to the ground beside him as he bared both fists in a surge of anger. “Oh, you wanna see how an adult handles things, you little—”

He grit his teeth together as his vision shifted between Ford and the kids, before he exhaled as much anger as he could possibly expel in one breath and scooped the papers back up off the ground with a halfhearted “Forget it.” before storming off towards the Stan-O-War-II.

Ford opened his mouth the slightest amount to object, to call him back, to say something—

“Yeesh, the temper on that guy,” Bill spoke up with a laugh. “No wonder you avoided him for so long, I’d go nuts having to deal with that all the time!”

—and his grip tightened on Bill before he turned to the nearby wood. “As I said before, it shouldn’t take me more than a few hours at most to disable the security system,” he called back to the kids. “Once it’s done, Bill will be out of our hair for the time being.”

“If it works,” Bill added with a laugh. “I mean, your silly little transfer spell didn’t work, so who’s to say—hey, hey, quit shaking me!”

Bill narrowed his eyes at Ford, who returned it with another shake of his body as he stepped from the yard into the forest underbrush—

“Grunkle Ford, wait!”

—and spun back around at the sound of Mabel’s voice, dirt crunching beneath her shoes as she hurried towards him. “I know Soos asked you earlier and you didn’t respond,” she said. “But…do you think you’ll be done with the security room in time for the party?”

“Yeesh, Shooting Star,” Bill piped up. “You’re all in the presence of greatness here, and all you can think about is some silly party?”

A laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you focusing on yourselves over anything else. You Pineses don’t do enough of that anymore. But c’mon, I’m dyin’ over here!”

He flashed Ford a grin, one far more teeth than actual amusement. “Although I guess that’s the goal here, isn’t it, Sixer?”

“I…don’t have an answer to that question, Mabel,” Ford replied to Mabel. “While I have confidence in my own skill to deactivate the security room without issue, there’s always a chance that things could go astray in the process. If all goes according to plan, I should at least make it back for the tail end of things. If it doesn’t—”

“If it doesn’t, too bad!” Bill interrupted gleefully. “No party for Sixer~!”

This time, Ford didn’t even bother to acknowledge him as he turned and continued onwards into the woods. Mabel didn’t budge from her spot, keeping her eyes locked on Ford's back until both of them disappeared from sight between the trees.

“Well, I still don’t know if him and Stan actually fighting or not,” Wendy chimed up from behind her. “But either way, that could’ve gone way better.”

“No kidding,” Dipper added. “And I know this goes without saying, but Bill wasn’t exactly making things any easier.”

“You’d think dying would’ve taught him how to shut up a little bit,” Wendy agreed with a huff. “Bet you anything Stan was a second away from swinging on him again.”

“A bet I’d never take because you’d win it easy.”

Mabel kept her attention on the woods for a few more seconds, her entire posture sinking as she finally turned back to face them. “And now Grunkle Ford’s gonna be at the bunker all day, doing secret bunker stuff all by himself,” she said sadly. “He might not even make it back in time for the party tonight…”

She reached over to grab one of her sweater sleeves with one hand. “Guess that’s not the most important thing right now, though, huh? Guess it’s getting rid of Bill first…”

Dipper crossed his arms with a sigh. “He never did tell us how he was going to handle that alone,” he pointed out, with his own unsure look towards the forest. “I mean, I know he said he’s gonna deactivate the security room. But how’s he going to get into the bunker at all?”

“Hey, yeah,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t he need to climb up and reach the lever? How’s he going to do that when he’s gotta keep a hand on Bill?”

Realization painted both Dipper and Mabel’s features at the same time, and their gazes immediately snapped to each other. “Grunkle Ford isn’t letting Stan help him—” Dipper began.

“—but he didn’t say we couldn’t come help,” Mabel finished knowingly.

“And even if he said he could handle the Bill stuff by himself, he never said anything about getting help with the bunker stuff,” Wendy added with a wink.

“Plus, he’ll probably need at least one other person to watch Bill so he can focus on the security room!” Dipper said thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face. “I know it’s not technically a loophole dodge, but I mean…how’s he supposed to focus on dismantling a dangerous security system if he’s got to keep one eye on Bill?”

“And keeping that eye on Bill for someone else will probably be super easy if he’s tied up,” Mabel agreed. “I mean, all he can do right now is talk, right? And it’s not like we’re not gonna listen to anything he says!”

“Sounds to me like we’re all in agreement on this ‘go and help that stubborn old man out’ train,” Wendy said. “So you two gonna get a move on towards the bunker, or what?”

“Oh, should we both go?” Dipper asked, directing the question at her, then Mabel. “I think one of us would be more than enough, right?”

“One should be good,” Mabel said with a nod. “And we can always keep in touch with our cell phones, right?”

“Signal might be hit or miss underground, but it’s not like I can’t just step out and guard the exit as I text,” Dipper agreed.

“Yeah, y—wait, you?” Mabel tilted her head in confusion. “You wanted to go?”

“Oh, was that not—” Dipper began. “Did you want to go instead? I thought you’d want to stay and decorate for the party?”

“Yeah, plus we have no idea if Dr. Pines will actually be finished by the time the party starts,” Wendy added. “Are you sayin’ you’d be willing to miss a party of this size, Mabel?”

“Eh, there’s always gonna be other parties,” Mabel insisted. “Plus, I trust you two to follow Soos’ vision of ‘making this place look like a party threw up from spending too much time at another party.’”

She looked towards the woods again. “Plus, I…I said I wanted to spend some time with Dr. Grunkle Ford, right? What better way to do that then to help him with all this Bill stuff?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth with a giggle. “Oops, I mean…all this bunker stuff.”

“Fair point, fair point,” Dipper agreed with a nod. “Alright, then you go help Ford, and keep me posted on what’s happening! And I’ll snap as many pics as I can of the party for you, just so you don’t feel too left out.”

“You’re the best, Bro-Bro~!” Mabel said, smile widening as she looked between them. “Alright, I’d better get going then, huh?”

“Good luck, Mabel!” Wendy said, and flashed her a thumbs up. “And be sure to drop a couple of swears at the little triangle bastard in my honor.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Mabel said excitedly, then pressed a hand to her chin. “Uh…which ones should I use?”

“Whatever one you want, so long as I don’t get in trouble for it.”

Mabel thought for a second. “Bill’s a…dumbass?”

Wendy slapped a hand to her mouth to try and bite back a laugh. “Good try, but maybe put a little bit more oomph behind it? C’mon, say it with your whole chest!”

“Bill’s a dumbass!” she tried again with more confidence.

“Yeah, atta girl!” Wendy said, pumping a fist into the air. 

Dipper let out a laugh of delight, pressing a hand to his own mouth. “He really is a dumbass, huh?”

“The biggest one!” Mabel said, clapping her hands together. “Dumbass triangle!”

“Alright, alright, let’s spread ‘em out a bit, huh?” Wendy suggested. “Swears are fine and good, but you use too many of them at once and they lose their punch.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Mabel said with a nod. “Better save them for when I get to the bunker, huh?”

With a laugh, Wendy gave her a two-finger salute, one accompanied by a thumbs up from Dipper. And after a confusing attempt to mirror both at the same time, Mabel bounded off through the underbrush in the direction where Ford had gone.

The two of them watched her go in silence, before Wendy looked down to Dipper. “So, you wanna get started on those streamers while we toss out a couple more swears about the little jerk?”

“Like you’ve gotta ask,” Dipper said, before they turned back towards the Shack. “I know for a fact I’ve got a couple of those hearty f-words saved up just for him.”

[onceuponastory]

artistic - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: After embarrassing herself in front of the very attractive artist, Y/N swears her night has gone from bad to worse. In fact, she couldn't be more wrong. Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Some swearing and a mention of alcohol. If I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: This is a part two to An Intriguing Stranger, which was based on a gif sent to me by @holacia3. Some people wanted Bucky's POV, so here it is! Read part one here!

As Y/N tries to think of something to say in response to the stranger's introduction, it's like time slows down. And the more time ticks by, the more Y/N wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole. And when she finally does speak, it's even worse. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” Is what she was supposed to say. What she wanted to say. Instead, however, a mixture of words, of ‘sorry’ and ‘I had no idea who you were’ and ‘please don’t sue me’ comes out. More of a word vomit than a well thought out apology.

When James opens his mouth again, she expects him to curse her out, or even to actually sue her. Instead of a threat, though, she hears the complete opposite. Laughter. She raises a brow, curious about why he finds the situation funny, and what kind of artist would laugh at their work being criticised.

Honestly, Bucky wasn’t expecting to hear such a critique of his art tonight. And he definitely doesn’t mean to find it so funny. Or at least, he knows he probably shouldn’t. But after experiencing the perfectionism and fakeness of the art world, her brutal honesty is incredibly refreshing.

And it helps that she’s very cute too. In fact, he's never seen anyone like her ever before.

“Please, don’t feel the need to apologise. It’s totally fine.” He smiles. “That was my first real laugh of the night.” Y/N blinks in surprise, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the ‘but’ in his sentence to appear. And yet, it never comes, only adding to her confusion.

“What? But I just practically destroyed your life’s work!” To her surprise, he shrugs.

“Well, you were right, actually. My usual work is nothing like this. But unfortunately, it doesn’t pay the bills that well, and ‘isn’t the sort of work the galleries are looking for right now.’” He mocks, and Y/N stifles a laugh of her own. “One night it all reached a head, so I got very drunk on some wine and basically threw some paint at a canvas, like you guessed.” He nods. “And it definitely was a big fuck you to the art world and their standards.” He sighs, running another hand through his hair. “I didn’t even mean to submit it, but somehow I did, so I woke up the next morning to a bunch of emails and calls from a ton of galleries asking for the honour to display it.” He explains, before turning back to the painting. “I know it’s brought me a lot of success, but honestly? I hate this fucking thing.” 

“So… no harm done?” Y/N asks awkwardly, and he smiles.

How does his smile make my stomach flutter so much?

“None at all. In fact, I admire your honesty.” He walks towards another painting, beckoning for her to follow with a move of his head. For a moment, Y/N holds back. Even though there’s no animosity between them both, surely there’s no way he actually wants to spend time with her? 

Yet, he beckons her to follow him again once more, and Y/N’s feet start moving towards him before she can even think about it. 

After all, surely this night can't go any worse.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For most of the night, Y/N’s new artistic friend gives her a tour of the exhibition, occasionally commenting on the artwork and its creators. He also very quickly told her to call him Bucky instead of James, something which he insists only his close friends do. Despite how relieved she feels to be getting closer and closer to her new, extremely attractive artistic friend (especially since he isn't going to sue her), Y/N would be lying if she said this whole thing didn’t feel absolutely crazy, and that she still isn’t waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her, her chance at spending time with the attractive artist over before it even began.

But as Bucky leads her upstairs, into the fancy reception that only a few moments ago she was so sure she would not be attending, Y/N realises that she’s not going to complain about spending time with her handsome and charming companion. And with Bucky by her side, she feels more comfortable, less out of place. It feels like this is where she’s meant to be. By his side.

The room is busy, heaving with journalists and other artists. Yet, Bucky moves his hand to the small of her back, sending a shockwave throughout her entire body. He effortlessly guides her through the room, leading her straight to the bar.

After grabbing her a drink, Bucky leans against the bar, taking her all in. Y/N feels heat rising in her cheeks, and she grins. He really is an incredibly handsome man.

“You said you don’t paint like that usually, so what is your usual work, then?” She asks, trying and failing to limit her staring. Bucky chuckles. 

“The usual boring stuff, landscapes, portraits….”

“That doesn’t sound boring. I do like that kind of art, actually.” Bucky looks over at her, smirking.

“You know, I’d like to paint you one day. I think you’d make a wonderful piece.” He muses. Y/N almost drops her glass in shock, her cheeks burning even deeper. Bucky grabs a napkin, scribbling something on it. “I need to go mingle, but here’s my number. If we ever get separated, or if you would like to be a model for me....” He trails off, grinning cheekily. “Just call me.” He places his hand on her shoulder, giving her one last smile and a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

As he fades out of sight, Y/N pulls out her phone, adding Bucky to her contacts.

She might just take him up on his offer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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