#and i used a glitter pen i found to add some extra touches

[driftwooddestiel]

i put him on my wall

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

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Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

[pokemon-channel]

☆—Spread the Love! | Valentines Mix-up

DJ Ben stretches out in his chair, yawning silently to himself.  The Delibirds flew out just a few hours prior, and he feels nothing but utmost confidence in them.  He’d never bring it up to Mary, but he still can’t believe how the messages managed to get mixed up for three years running.  He’s determined to make this Valentine’s Day go as smoothly as possible.  Delibird are known for their innate delivery skills.  How could anything go wrong?

Ben’s going to show Mary that letting him take the reigns of this event wasn’t a mistake.  Everything was going to go right this year!  He has a good feeling about these Delibird as they return, one-by-one, to the Radio Tower.  Passing around nicely-decorated Pokepuffs to each obedient Delibird as reward, DJ Ben can’t help but feel all too pleased with himself about the event.

Such a shame he mixed the Delibirds up on their way out.

What DJ Ben brings to you, under the cut, is a tragic tale of woe.  Each Valentine has been preserved in its original state.  None of the people who actually received each Valentine were the intended recipients.

To further add to the confusion, each Valentine was randomized three separate times along with their sender counterparts.  Thanks to the based RNG gods, some people received quite the coincidental string of Valentines…

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Green CONTENTS: A Love Ball with candy inside. “You like pink stuff right? Some guy I know from Johto gave it to me."

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: A fresh and new store bought cape for Silver. “I look forward to where you’re going in life.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Draze CONTENTS:  A pastel pink card with “Happy Galentine’s Day” written on the front. The message inside reads “Thanks for being a good friend. If you ever need a favor or maybe just somebody to rough up a bunch of weirdos for you, you know who to call ;) -Anzu P.S. This is from my kid sister.” A colorful drawing of Alice wearing one of her iconic stage costumes is included on a separate sheet of paper, signed by Yuzu in the corner. There is also a small bag containing some homemade cookies from her.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS:  Dear Q, Roses are red I don’t want to boast But you’re pretty cool And smarter than most! ~Q P.S. Self-love is important.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Ethan CONTENTS:  A collection of old candies that Clair and Lance used to eat with a note that says “I remember you liking these old candies. Here’s hoping you still do."

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS:   Dear Katlyn, Roses are red Your music is fine Your drumming Lucario Is cooler than mine. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Alice CONTENTS:   Dear Claudia, Roses are red Fermata’s a jerk Your dancing is cool But will this rhyme work? ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Giovanni CONTENTS: A teddy bear for Kris. “I’ve heard of your success with the Gym Challenge! The Elite 4 welcome your challenge any time.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Katlyn CONTENTS:  “Remember that old house in the forest? I found this up when we were there and I only came across it when I did some cleaning recently. -Morty”. Inside a gift box is a shining Dragon Fang, almost like it had been polished recently.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Moros WHO RECEIVED IT: Jac CONTENTS:  A basket full of Valentine-related things in a very particular shade of bright pink. There are several roses, a few handfuls of foil-wrapped chocolate hearts, a big bag of heart-shaped gummies, and one large, very soft Luvdisc plush. There’s no card, just a tag that says, ‘TO: Lovrina FROM: M’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Lovrina CONTENTS: With an image of a beautiful Alolan sunset on the horizon, the inside is a more explosive scene—of glitter! Enjoy that mess.

The loving message to go with it?

“Fuck you buddy.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Claudia CONTENTS: A piece of paper with the following written in pen: “I hate your stinking guts! You make me vomit. You’re scum between my toes. -Anzu”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Dear Daigo, Roses are red I wrote this with passion but what I can’t give you Is a new sense of fashion. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Dawn WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: 8 Pepper Chocolates for Brendan. “I hear eating something spicy can get someone pumped up and boosts competition. Here’s looking to our next Contest.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Motorcycle shaped Cookies for Anzu. “You ride a motorcycle correct?”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Silver CONTENTS: A homemade smudging kit with written instructions on how to cleanse your home (or gym) of negative energy. A note reads “Clair, I’m sorry this isn’t much of a valentines gift, but I thought you might get some use out of it anyway. Happy Valentines Day. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Leaf CONTENTS:  A sheet of paper with the word "Nerd” scrawled in pencil.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Ariana Natsumi CONTENTS:  Mixed Chocolates and Candy for Green. “I do not remember what you enjoyed, but I hope you enjoy sweets.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Lillie CONTENTS: It’s a Pokemon Egg! What could be inside? The only thing that came with it is a note that says “This egg should hatch in a few days. Enjoy your new Pokemon! -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS:  The card has a pair of Pikachu rubbing cheeks with their tails entwined on the front. On the inside is—oh no, glitter bomb! Enjoy that mess.

Only one word is written inside.“Dork.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS:   Homemade vanilla cookies that are somewhat shaped like Togepi. A note reads “Happy Valentines Day. I hope you enjoy these. -Morty” He’s only a little nervous that a certain Pokemon of his might have messed with one of the batches he made. Hopefully they taste fine.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Brendan CONTENTS:   A box of loose leaf tea stored in individual cloth pouches. Different blends include citrus, lavender, chamomile, mint, rose and matcha (because why not be obvious?) A note attached reads “Happy Valentines Day. I made most of these blends myself. I hope you like them. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Whitney CONTENTS: A chocolate flower. “Hilarious right? Happy Valentines Day.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Jac CONTENTS: On the front of the card is a man and woman showing their tanned Alolan summer bodies. Inside, there’s a foil for… er, intimate bedroom activities. ‘No need to thank me.’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Katlyn CONTENTS: A Red and Black Hat for Ethan.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Alice CONTENTS: A pink note that reads “Sorry that I lost my temper on you. I owe you one for helping me find that Clefairy Doll. P.S. If you find yourself in Olivine City anytime soon, here’s my phone number. I’ll treat you to a free meal for helping me out. -Anzu"

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: Dear Zia, Roses are red You’re fond of a ghost They give me the creeps But you’re still engrossed. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Quentin CONTENTS: A shiny new Pokeball with a Gastly inside, adorning a light purple ribbon. “Happy Valentines Day! I wanted to give her to you sooner but she just hatched last week. Her name is Salvia. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Barry CONTENTS: Goomy shaped Chocolates for Red. “Send me photos of your little partner!”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Kris CONTENTS: A note reads: “Sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you lately. Hope this helps make up for it.” Attached is a small bag with homemade cookies from Yuzu and several pieces of store bought chocolates.

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Strawberries covered with Chocolates for Leaf. “I’ve heard of your recent successes! I’m very happy for you.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anzu WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: A small bag of homemade cookies with a note attached reads “Yuzu made too many extra cookies for Valentines Day, so she asked me to help her get rid of some. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Whitney WHO RECEIVED IT: Daigo CONTENTS: Attached with a box of cookies with jam in the centre is a card with a !!very!! cute picture of snubbull cuddling. Inside reads: ❤ Happy Valentine’s Day!! ❤ For White Day, we should go somewhere fun! Or even before! What do you say? But don’t think you can forget about White Day just because you’re a shut-in! 😠 Okay? I’ll be expecting a gift in return! 💕 - Whitney ❤

VALENTINE SENT BY: Quentin WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: Dear Anzu, Roses are red You’re lacking a heart But the real problem is You’re not very smart. ~Q

VALENTINE SENT BY: Morty WHO RECEIVED IT: Sun CONTENTS: A pouch full of wild berries from the Ilex Forest. It seems that Morty had excellent luck when he went to gather them; there are a few Sitrus berries in the pile. “I wanted to share the wealth. Hope you’re doing well. -Morty”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Anonymous WHO RECEIVED IT: Quentin CONTENTS: From the day I met you at the battle frontier, I knew something was aloaf. My head got all dizzy for the first time in years and I knew, it had to be you. Your just the person of my dreams, and I hope that someday we can be together, though we have things to discuss. Feel free to visit anytime, as I know your always going going. You know where to find me! :)

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Ethan CONTENTS: Some Strawberry Marshmallows “This is thanks for you sister keeping Mimi company, but you can keep some I guess.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Zia CONTENTS: Chocolates for Ariana Natsumi. “Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Green CONTENTS: Some really messy and sloppily made chocolate. “Torra wanted to give this to you. Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Anzu CONTENTS: Store Bought Chocolates “Happy Valentines.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Dawn WHO RECEIVED IT: Claudia CONTENTS: Homemade Chocolates for Barry with a note. “You probably don’t realize how much you’ve done for me. Here’s to another good year.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Morty CONTENTS: A chocolate sphere. A solid sphere of chocolate. "Isn’t this funny?”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Daigo WHO RECEIVED IT: Clair CONTENTS: Halloween Candy. “Boo. You like scary stuff right.”

VALENTINE SENT BY: Whitney WHO RECEIVED IT: Lance CONTENTS: There’s a personal photo printed on the front of this card of Goldenrod City’s Gym Leader Whitney crowded by a group of pokémon: a smiling clefable, miltank, aipom, wigglytuff, and a bibarel whose flat eyes stare into your soul.

Inside are a bunch of stickers with this same exact picture, but smaller!

‘Sunny,Happy Valentine’s, Sunny! I’m thinking about you all the way here in Johto. 💕 Do they have a photo booth over there you can take sticker pictures with? You should find out, pronto!! Or send me some cute pictures of you and your pokémon!

Love you lots!  😘

❤️ Whitney ❤️ ’

VALENTINE SENT BY: Lance WHO RECEIVED IT: Red CONTENTS: A Black, Blue, and Red scarf made with Lance’s color scheme for Morty.  "Stay warm.” is all the note says.

[erlenmeyertrash]

Oil on Canvas, June 1889

me?? write something??? how dare

words: 1238 | pairings: logicality if you squint | warnings: none, but just lmk if you need something tagged

“It’s chilly out here.”

There’s a shifting of fabric and the slight scrape of clothes on concrete as he settles down beside Logan.

“I suppose it is.”

“Are you cold?”

Logan shrugs. “Not particularly.”

Patton peers through the slats of their balcony railing. The apartment complex’s perimeter fence and the houses beyond don’t make for particularly beautiful scenery, but as he sneaks a glance at Logan and sees that his dark eyes are staring skyward, he supposes it doesn’t matter. Logan opens his mouth ever so slightly and Patton watches his foggy breath drift and dissipate into the air.

“What’cha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

A pause. “Astronomy… and English,” Logan adds, his eyes still transfixed on the twilight sky.

Patton follows his gaze to the heavens. “What specifically?”

Logan takes a breath. Lets out a small puff of trailing white. And then- “...I took an astronomy course freshman year. Observational Astronomy. Every Wednesday night, we would go out with all these telescopes onto one of the fields by of the observatory. We would sit there for hours, just cataloging all the major constellations. We learned how to determine which one was Polaris, the North Star, using other constellations. We learned how the ancient Polynesians used their hands and specific star clusters as guides on the sea. I… I wrote an essay on the constellation Cassiopeia for extra credit. I aced every quiz. I didn’t even have to take the final.”

“That’s really impressive.”

“Is it?” Logan squints, scrutinizing the stars. “I suppose so. I felt very accomplished after that semester. Considered myself a true modern Renaissance man.” His sigh reveals itself in a tiny white cloud.

“...What about English?” Patton prods after a few beats of silence, but Logan doesn’t respond. Patton leans forward until his forehead touches the cold wrought iron railing. It makes his glasses go askew- the starry night blurs into blackness- but he makes no move to change that. If he concentrates, Patton can hear the low roar of car tires on the main roads. The air is still. Undisturbed. He huffs out a long breath and his eyes nearly cross as he tries to watch it disappear.

“...Right now there’s not a cloud in the sky, but I can’t name a single star.”

Logan’s voice is barely above a whisper. Patton whips his head around, one hand straightening his glasses on his nose. Logan’s eyes still haven’t shifted from the starlight, but his gaze is… sharper. Harsh. Instead of another cloud of warm breath, Patton sees his jaw clench.

Patton could comfort him. That’s all right. People forget knowledge they don’t use often to make room for new information. It’s been years since you took that class, and you probably haven’t looked at the stars that much since then. He could change the subject. He could ask about English again. But he doesn’t. He looks back up at the sky, eyes narrowed, tongue sticking out slightly between his teeth.

“...Well, there’s the Big Dipper.” He points up, glancing over at Logan, who is now staring right back at him with owlish eyes.

“See?” He leans over, making their lines of sight as close as possible so his finger is pointing in the right direction. “Those three right there? They make up the handle thing. That bottom one is the top left corner of the four that make up the, uh… the pot thingy. That part.”

“I see it.” Logan’s breath appears in his peripheral vision, and Patton’s gaze slides to it, his outstretched hand wavering. He looks at Logan, whose eyes are suddenly distant, his mouth sliding silent words over his teeth. Patton lowers his arm and waits for the great revelation Logan is uncovering in his head.

“There.” Logan’s hand shoots out, pointing upwards. “That one’s Polaris.”

Patton squints. “That really bright one?”

“No, down and to the right a little.” Logan’s finger mirrors the motion.

“Oh, I see it! How’d you know that?”

Another puff of breath. Patton loses Polaris. “Imagine a line between those two stars of Urs- the Big Dipper. Then take the length of that line, multiply it by five, and add it to that star along the line. Polaris is there.”

“That’s so cool,” Patton whispers, trying to find Polaris again. He thinks he’s found it. “Does that trick always work?”

“....As far as I’m aware, yes.”

“Math and stars.” Patton beams. “That’s awesome. I love that.”

“Do you now?” Something in Logan’s voice tells Patton the question isn’t rhetorical.

“Well- yeah. It’s so interesting. I love it. Just like how I love cool facts about biology. And how Roman loves theatre, and how Virgil loves psychology. And how I love them, and you.”

Patton sits back on his hands, sparing a glance at Logan, who is once again transfixed on the night sky. Patton shivers. He finds the Big Dipper again. Finds the bottom two stars. The distance between them. One, two, three, four,-

“I don’t love people,” Logan blurts out. Patton jumps.

“I- I don’t. I’ve never loved a person. And- even if I did, I wouldn’t know how. I love- I love subjects.” Logan forces a shaky inhale. “And I know how I love them- by studying them, by learning them forwards and backwards and inside out even though facts are intangible and do not have visible figures and therefore cannot be inside out. I know I love them when I learn all this and still think of new questions for which I can or even cannot discover an answer. I can discover new facts, new knowledge, if I can just connect enough dots. And you can’t- do that to people.

People are…”

Logan looks like he’s on a quest to battle the alphabet. Patton is barely moving. His breath is weak puffs of white.

“...not like physics. Not like math. The laws that define one person don’t apply to the rest,- or even to themselves all the time. Just look at psychology, and sociology, and how��� finicky everything is. That’s how people are. All the facts- they’re not constant. They all jumble up and confuse m- each other. There is no right answer. It’s… puzzling.”

Patton’s grasping at straws and his hands are coming up empty. “...And here I thought you liked solving puzzles.” A light tease. A gentle prodding.

But Logan soberly replies, “people are not just puzzles, Patton.”

Patton is silent. There is an image in his head of Logan hovering in a doorway, cradling a pristinely folded shirt Patton had lost in the laundry a week ago like it is made of glass; then there’s Logan standing frozen, hands twitching, before raising one and knocking one, two, three times ever so gently on Virgil’s bedroom door; then there’s Logan, bathed in yellow lamplight, hunched over the coffee table- Roman asleep on the couch beside him- and Logan is copying down Roman’s tilted, jumbled handwriting in his own perfect typewriter script, swapping his pencil for one of many colorful glitter pens Logan would never use for his own notes every so often.

Patton looks up at the sky again.

One, two, three, four, five.

Finds Polaris.

Feels Logan’s stare. He knows Logan is waiting for something but he doesn’t know what.

Patton could search for a poetic, intellectual response; he could dig deeper and try to give Logan some lost key to the universe, to understanding people. Instead, he smiles.

“...No, I guess they’re not, huh?”

[donutpwns]

Journey to the Roots - Part 7

Part 6 - Part 8

“This paint is fresh.” Mabel points out; she can tell by the smell after all the paint she’s used over the years. She taps her fingers to the wall to find that the paint is dry. “Grunkle Ford was here thirty years ago but someone was here recently.” A chill runs down her spine and she pulls her hand away from the wall. “You don’t think Bill…?”

Dipper swallows thickly. Everything in his gut tells him they need to run but his curiosity sticks him in place. This was to figure out how to stop Bill, to protect Ford and Stan and all of Gravity Falls. Fate of the world stuff. He lets go of Mabel’s hand so he can pull out the notebook he’d tucked into the back of his shorts. Inside it he’s copied down everything Ford had between his Journals about Bill, all the symbols. He uses the notes as a translation guide, muttering and clicking his pen as he went through what he could read. There had to be something Ford had missed.

Something they could use to protect themselves from Bill beyond the barrier. They couldn’t just stay locked inside for the rest of their lives, and besides, someone from the outside could get to them. It was a safe base to stay in but that was about it.

While he studies, Mabel decides that the place really needs a makeover. Too much Bill for her liking; now that she thinks about it there’s a lot of Bill stuff at the Shack, like the rug in the gift shop. Good thing Ford hasn’t gone in there since the first day that he got really peeved about the fact that the Shack was a thing. She’ll have to toss it once they get home. But while they were here…

Dipper looks up at the sound of her giggles, his own mouth curling at the sight. Mabel’s got a thick purple marker out and is going to every painting of Bill that she can reach and adding mustaches and a single bushy brow to each. Part of him feels like they shouldn’t be graffiti-ing a piece of history like this but at the same time it’s Bill. He closes his notebook and runs over to her, taking the marker from her. He uses it to add a big speech bubble coming from a painting Bill looming over a bunch of stick people.

“’I am a living fart’? Really, that’s great, Dipper!” Mabel covers her mouth as she giggles. She takes the marker back and adds what Dipper assumes are stink lines coming from the triangle. Then she adds her own speech bubble coming from the people that read ‘peyew’ in big capital letters. “My best work to date, I think.” it could use some glitter for flavor but it'll do.

Dipper has to suppress his own giggles and pulls out one of the cameras he always has with him these days. “What is it you say? A scrapbookertunity?”

Mabel squeals and hugs her brother because he is the best. She left the Polaroid camera that Stan gave her at home. “Good thinking, Bro-Bro! This is a perfect addition to my ‘Bill is a doody face’ page.” She takes the camera from him and snaps a picture.

As soon as she does, they both feel an odd feeling wash over them. Something like déjà vu. Have they done this before?

They both look over to the painted wall a second before the voice sounds out, loud and chilling, “WELL WELL WELL WELL WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?” the paint shifts and forms a giant red eye that glares at them as all color seems to disappear around them.

Their hands find each other and squeeze tight. Mabel moves closer to her brother, the hand not in his reaching up to grip his sleeve tight. Still she forces her voice to be loud and full, because you can't let the monsters know you're scared, that's what Ford says. “Go away, Bill!”

“HEY, THAT'S HURTFUL, SHOOTING STAR. YOU'RE THE ONE THAT CAME AND KNOCKED ON MY DOOR.” the paint shifts again into the shape of Bill; he peels himself off the wall with a sickening sound. There's an audible POP once he's free and he changes from red to yellow. “I'VE MISSED YOU BOTH, EVEN YOU, PINE TREE. HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO VISIT SINCE YOU PUT UP THAT BARRIER.”

“That’s kinda the point.” Dipper squeezes his sister's hand, glaring at the triangle. This all seems too familiar. He can't fight the feeling that he's forgetting something, something important.

Bill shrugs and begins floating around them in a lazy circle. “AND HERE I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD HELP ME WITH SOMETHING.”

Mabel snorts, grip loosening on Dipper’s sleeve. “As if we’d help you! We hate you, you pointy jerk!”

“THAT’S FAIR. BUT KNOW WHAT’S NOT HATEFUL? GIVING SECOND CHANCES AND HELPING SOMEONE FIND A LONG LOST FRIEND. ISN’T THAT THE SORTA THING YOU LOVE TO DO, SHOOTING STAR?” He moves in super close, forcing both twins to stumble back a few steps, and gives Mabel’s nose a tweak. The lower lid of his eye takes up most of his eye and his whole body seems to shake with manic giggles. “I JUST NEED YOU TO HELP ME FIND MY BEST FRIEND AND I’LL BE OUT OF YOUR LIVES FOREVER. INTERDIMINSIONAL SCOUTS HONOR!” he lifts a hand in a sort of salute.

Mabel might not be as smart as her brother, but even she can see through Bill’s crap. Normally she’d jump at the chance to reunite long lost friends, it’d be like something out of one of her books, but Bill didn’t have any friends that he needed to be with anymore. So she sticks her tongue out at him. “Never!”

The eye moves to focus on Dipper. “C’MON, PINE TREE. JUST SHAKE MY HAND. I'LL FIND MY FRIEND AND THEN YOU TWO WILL NEVER HEAR FROM ME AGAIN.” he sticks out his hand, blue flames lit up around it.

Mabel holds her brother's arm tighter and hisses, “Bill makes bad deals, Dipper, we can't trust him."

Dipper knows his sister's probably right, but he has a theory that he's been kicking around since he found out about Ford’s deal. It's like an old fairytale, the kind their mom used to read them. You have to be very particular with how you word your deal. That's how Bill tricked them, by following the letter of what he agreed to in the moment he shook your hand, not the intended meaning. “I help you find your friend and the moment you find them, you leave us alone forever. Got it? You never mess with us or our grunkles ever again?”

“YOU DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN, PINE TREE. BUT SURE. IT'S A DEAL!” the flames grew brighter, bigger. “SHAKE MY HAND AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN ONCE I GET MY FRIEND BACK!”

Dipper takes a deep breath and reaches for Bill’s hand. Even if this fails, they have Ford now, the expert on Bill. He was sure that his family could stop Bill if he messed up. But if it succeeds, then they would be free of Bill and all Dipper has to do is be possessed for a little. Sure, last time he had to shower like thirty times before he felt even a little clean, but that was a small price to pay to be a hero. It’s what Ford would do in his place, he’s sure.

Her brother is an idiot, a complete moron. This can't end well. “Wait!” she grabs her brother’s wrist before he can touch Bill. She swallows thickly; this was such a bad idea. But what was it that Stan and Ford used to say when they were kids? Wherever we go, we go together. And if there was a chance that this could work, that they could be free of Bill, that they could protect their uncles...She trusts Dipper. “Make the deal with both of us.”

“Mabel, no.” This was his bad idea; if it went south, she had to stop him. “You can't—"

She squeezes his hand extra tight, meeting his eyes. She's scared, he knows and he hates it, but she's not going to back down. “Trust me.” She whispers, the permanent exception to the rule, before looking back at Bill. She sticks out the hand not holding Dipper’s. “C'mon. Two twins for the price of one. That's a deal.”

Bill rubs under his eye with his thumb and index finger, making a vibrating humming sound. His eye darts between them and narrows. Then he crosses his arms as he stretches a hand to each of them, blue flames glowing bright in the dim cave. “IT'S A DEAL!”

The moment before they take his hands, Dipper freezes. Wait. No, they've done this before. They've shaken his hands before and then...then they find Blandin and Dipper wakes up in the snow. This has all happened before.

The circle of candles, the ropes, Stan’s hand on his head and the sounds of Ford reciting the spell.

“This is a memory.” he pulls Mabel back before she can shake Bill's hand; he should've done that in the first place. This was such a monumental bad idea, how could he have thought it wasn't? Oh he was so stupid. “Mabel, this isn't real! This is a memory! We're in our mindscape!”

Mabel is confused for a moment before her mind catches up. She looks up at where Bill is frozen above them, hands glowing but unmoving, like a movie that's been paused. She steps forward and waves a hand in front of his face. Nothing. “So this is weird.” a grin steals her face and she picks up the marker she’d dropped when Bill had showed up so she can make him match his painting.

It wasn't just her fault; the cave had been her idea, but the deal had been Dipper’s. They screwed up together. Now they could fix it together. Knowing that made her feel braver, made her feel less garbage. The Mystery Twins could break and then fix anything.

Now they just have to save their uncles. “We've gotta find Stan and Ford.” She looks at her brother and grabs his hand again. Bill can't keep them apart in their own heads. And it's the mindscape, the place where she could have rocket powered kitten fists! “Before Bill finds whoever he's looking for.”

Who could Bill be looking for back in this time? Ford was the one who summoned him and Ford hadn't told anyone else about Bill so—

They both squeeze each other's hand together as the realization dawns.

“You don't think he's looking for…?” Dipper starts.

“...Younkle Ford had to go to sleep to do the spell, didn't he?” Mabel continues.

They both swear in unison, “Hot Belgian waffles!”

--------------

Their mindscape is apparently books, something Dipper wishes he could be surprised about. As they run through the halls, Dipper realizes that he never really thought about what his own mind would look like; he just thought it was all doors and such, like Stan’s. When they stop at a split in the hall, he looks at the books on the shelves. Thick, glitter covered scrapbooks and journals bound in leather.

“This place is a maze!” Dipper groans, scratching at his head under his hat. How was his own mind so confusing? Well, he supposed it was also Mabel’s mind and he also had no idea where to go, but still. It shouldn’t be so hard to find stuff. “Maybe we can think up a map or something?” he tries to do so but keeps getting caught up on the fact that he knows nothing about what this place is like and therefore what if his map is wrong?

Mabel looks around, peering at the various books on the shelves. Their memories were journals and scrapbooks, apparently. That made sense. Dipper liked to write down everything and Mabel never met a good moment that wasn’t begging to be expressed with glitter and bright paper. Once they got home, she’d have to fill up so many pages with what happened here. Once she was done hugging Stan and Ford and— “Oh, I know!” she hits the heel of her fist against her open palm as the idea strikes her. She closes her eyes and focuses really hard. Slightly ahead of her a white puff of smoke appears and in its wake, something that makes her squeal, all anxiety and fear momentarily forgotten. “Waddles!”

Dipper rolls his eyes as his sister tackles the pig and peppers him with kisses. It’s nice to see his sister so happy, but they have things to do. “Mabel, I know you miss him, but we need to find Stan and Ford. They don’t know what Bill’s after.”

“That’s what he’s here for!” she gives him one last nuzzle before standing up. She puts her hands on her knees and grins at him. “Waddles! We need to find Stan and Ford! You can sniff ‘em out, right? Who’s my little guy, whose my smart little guy with the bestest, cutest little sniffer ever?” she boops his little snoot because he is too cute, “You are! Yes you are! So let’s find our Younkles! Good boy!”

Waddles oinks in a way that is totally a ‘Right away, Mabel, BTW I love you’ before putting his nose to the ground. Mabel jumps up and down and claps as he starts chasing a smell. “Ohhh! Waddles, you are the best, forever and for always!”

Dipper rolls his eyes again before grabbing his sister’s hand to chase after the pig. It was a good idea; he had to admit, so long as it worked. Waddles seemed to be able to find Stan no matter what after the whole pterodactyl incident.

 Ahead of them they can hear Ford yelling, “Stanley, he’s not—” Then he seems to cut himself off, “I’m giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life, and you won’t even listen!” Mabel wrinkles her nose; does Ford have to be so mean now of all times?

They turn the corner to see Ford struggling, suspended in midair and glowing blue, and Stan trapped between a set of shelves and a broken looking Bill. That was definitely not the Bill from their memory. Was that what happened when they both shook his hand? Serves the buttmunch right.

“YOU SHAKE MY HAND AND YOU’LL GO AWAY FOREVER. NO MORE FAILED CONS, NO MORE DOUBTS; NO MORE BEING THE LOAD ON EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT. THE KIDS WILL BE FREE AND YOU’LL NEVER HAVE TO THINK ABOUT FORD EVER AGAIN.” Bill has his cane digging into the underside of Stan’s chin; it looks painful. “C’MON, STAN. BE THE ONE THAT SAVES THE DAY INSTEAD OF RUINING IT LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO. SHAKE MY HAND.”

“Younkle/Grunkle Stan!” they shout together and run forward.

Stan’s eyes are red when he looks at them; Mabel thinks about when she was crying to him in the car. Sweetheart, I'm terrified. Bill can see your nightmares; he knows what you're afraid of, what you want more than anything. This Stan has never had to deal with him before.

Bill's eye narrows at them. “WELL, YOU CERTAINLY GOT HERE QUICKER THAN I THOUGHT.” There's a loud thump sound as Ford hits the ground.

Dipper pulls his hand from his sister's to run over to Ford, helping his uncle to his knees. Ford's got this wild, angry look on his face, different from the one he'd had when Dipper had showed up at his door. Less paranoid crazy and more feral. He braces a hand on Dipper’s shoulder as he rights himself, glaring holes at where Bill has his brother pinned.

“Get away from my Younkle!” Mabel tries to run to Stan only to find herself lifted off the ground. There's a moment of confusion as she tries to right herself before she's thrown into her brother and Ford. She hears Ford grunt and feels his arm go around her waist as he takes the brunt of the hit.

“Hey!” Stan shouts and they look up to see him being held in place with a cane to his chest. It's a relief to see him angry instead of scared at least. “Back off, ya one eyed demon! You think I can't smell a bad con? Now get the hell away from my—” he tries to shove forward only to freeze in place; all the color leaves his face when he looks down to see the cane embedded in his chest. “What the—"

Bill's yellow coloring is changing, slowly morphing to red like a poisoned sunset. Something black begins to ooze from the crack that runs down his middle, bubbling and hissing angrily as it drips to the floor. There's a stench like rotten eggs in the air. “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR STUPID, WORTHLESS FAMILY NOT STICKING TO THE PLAN!” his voice is deeper than normal, seems to make the air itself vibrate as it booms. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PISSED OFF YOU MAKE ME?!”

There's an explosion of red as Bill rips the cane free, splattering the books behind Stan and soaking his shirt and jacket. Mabel feels her stomach drop; Ford’s grip on her goes painfully tight. Dipper feels like he's going to be sick. No, no, this isn't real. It's the mindscape that meant it wasn't real, right? But Dipper hadn't bled when he'd had a hole blown in him. Why was Stan bleeding?

Stan stumbles back, one hand going to grip the bloody hole in his chest. He keeps his eyes on Bill though and looks like he's muttering something that they can't quite hear.

“WORSE? YOU'VE HAD WORSE? YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE. WELL, METAPHORICALLY.” Bill turns to look at them; his eye is red to match the rest of him and his pupil is more slitted than normal. The black ooze slicks down his front, nearly obscuring his bowtie completely. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, FORD. I WAS GOING TO TRY TO BE NICE BUT NOW I'M JUST GOING TO HAVE TO KILL ALL OF YOU.” he punctuates the statement by slamming the cane into Stan’s face, sending him falling sideways, even as he never takes his eye off Ford.

Ford practically growls, six fingers digging in painfully to Mabel’s side. He shoves her so she's behind him and stands in front of both her and her brother. In a blink he has a gun in his hand; not the sci-fi one he has after the portal, but a real one. “Cipher…” he makes that growly sound again and points the gun at him.

Stan is still gripping the bloody spot on his chest as he stands, breathing heavy and mouth moving silently. Dipper doesn't understand how Stan is really hurting. It's the mindscape; nothing has power unless you think it—oh.

Stan doesn't know it's not real. He doesn't know the rules of the mindscape! Of course he's bleeding and hurting; he doesn't know that he doesn't have to. His mind thinks his body is damaged and in pain so it is. Dipper stares at the blood covering Stan’s hand and focuses really hard.

Stan stares down in amazement as the red fades, the hole in his shirt and chest instantly mended, just like he'd done for Dipper in his own mind. He looks up and when he meets Dipper's eyes, a confused smile twitches across his face. It only lasts a second, however, before it's lost to a flinch. The gun fires with a loud bang, like a crack of thunder that has both kids covering their ears at the sheer volume of it in the confined space.

A hole explodes in the lower corner of Bill's shape. What has to be a gallon of the black goop hits the floor; the stench is worse, almost suffocating. In an instant the wound is healed. “YOU'RE NOT THAT STUPID, FORD. AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING, BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT.” Bill's eye moves in its mouthless smile as he speaks. In a blink he's on the other side of Stan, shoving him forward to stand in the puddle of Bill's...blood? The stuff quivers, moving like liquid metal with a magnet, before climbing up Stan’s shoes. “IT'S A PITY. YOU HAD SUCH POTENTIAL. IT'S EASY TO SEE WHY EVERYONE KEEPS RUINING THEIR LIVES OVER YOU. AND NOW THEY'RE GOING TO DIE FOR YOU.” He grabs Stan’s shoulders. “UNLESS STAN WANTS TO MAKE A DEAL.”

The gun shakes just so in Ford's hand. Mabel tries to scream, but her voice is gone; she can feel Bill's eye slide over her. Her eye burns and waters and for a moment she can feel the ropes that bind her to the chair in the real world, feel the heating metal of the shackle on her wrist to keep her holding her brother's hand. It feels like being on the edge of waking up, like those dreams where you're in your bed but can't move as things move across your ceiling.

Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out get out get out!

“MAN, AND I THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY NOW.”

A cold stone forms in the younger twins stomachs; their hands instinctively reach for each other. It shouldn't be possible. If there was anything good in the world, this shouldn't be allowed to even be a possibility.

But still it is. He's not cracked or bleeding black sludge like the one holding Stan in place, but instead whole as he floats before them. A second Bill Cipher.

“WELL HELLO, HANDSOME.” the broken Bill coos, his color shifting back to the obnoxious yellow to match his counterpart. “JUST THE GUY I WAS WANTING TO SEE. TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH. I PRACTICALLY GIFT WRAPPED HIM FOR YOU.”

le EmphasO��|�5

[fluentlanguage]

How to Learn a Language at Christmas (Even If You Don't Celebrate Christmas)

With just a few days to go until the Christmas holiday, chances are you might be feeling busy right now. When you’ve got gifts to wrap and trees to light, how can you keep learning languages?

Don’t worry, it’s not impossible. In this podcast and article, I’ve got handy tips for you to keep you in touch with any language - no matter if it’s Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah or Pagan Yule season.

You can also find this podcast by searching “Fluent Show” on 🍎 apple podcasts 📣Spotify 🔶Overcast 📻TuneIn Radio 🏆and anywhere you get podcasts

1) Surround Yourself With Your Target Language

At this time of the year, you’ll probably spend a lot of time in the home. You may already be decorating your house, which is a great opportunity for subtle language immersion.

The psychological concept behind this tip is that of priming, which describes the way your brain reacts to even the tiniest cues and adjusts its assumptions and expectations accordingly. You can use it to your advantage by decorating with a little language flair.

How about

a few decorations adorned with words in your target language

multilingual cards and greetings this year (try Irregular Endings)

making and serving different foods and drink, inspired by your target culture

Even if your items don’t have any words in your target language on them, they will remind you that you’re a learner of another language and bring your loved ones in on your project.

2) Seek Out Tutorials in Your Target Language

This time of year is perfect for homemade gifts, decorations, and food. If you have an IRL friend who practices your target language with you, get out of the “1-to-1 conversation” routine and make something together!

For added bonuses, use a tutorial in your target language. This is excellent practice for reading comprehension and boosts your motivation by giving you something instant to show.

For example I’ve made biscotti before from a recipe in my Welsh learners’ magazine and then I packaged them up and gave them to friends and family as Christmas presents.

Look out for

Crafting tutorials and magazine articles in your target language

Recipes for seasonal food

Crafting materials and instructions

3) Host a Language Party

The holiday season is a time to get together, not to sit alone and stare at Duolingo or Memrise. Here are a few ideas for bringing a bit of language flair to your holiday party:

Play Games Together

There are so many great word games that broaden your horizons about English, and it’s not too difficult to adapt them to a multilingual group. For example, guess the answers to a round of Pictionary or charades in another language, or get your friends to act out your vocabulary lists for you!

For more ideas, read these ideas for language learning games in a group.

Discover Music in Your Language

Play music in your target language and explore and share how they celebrate the season. If possible, get out and visit a celebration in the community of your language. There’s lots going on and during the holiday season most people love to open their doors.

If you haven’t found any music in your target language yet, go straight to my Spotify for Language guide or this multilingual Christmas song made by Lindsay Williams.

Watch a Christmas Movie

Many people have a favourite film about Christmas, and if you don’t have one yet then Netflix is ready to help out with every new instalments of the Christmas Prince series.

Here are a few ideas:

Un conte de Noël in French

3 Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel,a German/Czech 70s classic

And of course, you can always put target language subtitles on Die Hard!

If you have not found a festive movie in your target language yet, now is the time to ask and enjoy some well-deserved downtime.

What If Your Target Language Has No Christmas Season?

No worries!

Use decorations that suit the season, and learn about celebrations at this time of year

Sneak a little snack or food from your target language environment into the boring old Christmas with Aunt Bridget

Use festive colours and glitter pens to write your vocabulary lists and language notes

Take pictures of your decorations and add them to your digital flashcard apps (for example, Smartcards + lets you easily add photos)

Find Time and Focus For Studying Your Language

The winter holiday season often means a drop in productivity. You are likely interrupted in your routine, and you may find yourself with lots of extra tasks on your plate.

If you find yourself wanting stay productive without the added stress, take my short language course Focus & Fluency.

It’s a proven way to get more motivated and kickstart your learning with smarter study techniques.

No matter what you do, merry Christmas if you do celebrate it - nadolig llawen - frohe Weihnachten, and comment below sharing your favourite songs and movies in your target language.