#and then i'll pick 31 of those | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 11 months ago

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Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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raphael-angele · 6 months ago

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If Hades raised Nico and Bianca Part 31 (Gay)

Mini Headcanon: Since Nico and Bianca are also Persephone's kids, they technically count in the Demeter children so they can sit in the Demeter table

At the Demeter table:

Will: Hey, Nico

Nico: Oh, hey, Will. *wipes food from his mouth, trying to act cool*

Will: Uh...Lou Ellen and I were gonna head over to the Apollo cabin's table. You wanna join?

Nico: Oh, I- uh- *looks at Bianca*

Bianca: Go ahead

Nico: *secretly excited* Cool, cool. Sure, why not? *goes with them to the Apollo table*

Bianca, watching Nico from afar: I never understood crushes

Katie: What do you mean?

Bianca: Like...how can you just look at someone and just...feel that way?

Katie: Well, love is complicated. But that's the Aphrodite cabin's territory. So, can't really say much

Bianca: I just don't get how you just see them and your whole day is made.

Zoë: Hello, Bianca

Bianca: *turns to her and instantly fixes her posture and fixes her hair* Zoë! Hey, hi.

Katie:

Zoë: *softly chuckles* What are you doing here? We've been waiting for you at our table.

Bianca: *small blush* O-our table?

Zoë: Yes, the one designated for those who reside in the Artemis cabin?

Bianca: Right! Right, right. Uhm...sure. I'll be right there.

Zoë: ...alright, then. *walks away*

Bianca: *picks up her plate and follows her* Sorry, hope you don't mind.

Katie:

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leothil · 3 months ago

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fic recs: archive edition 31

Hello! It's back to business again after a summer break, and just in time for the @summerofbuddie week four bucket list that includes the task "comment on an old buddie fic (posted before 2024)." Here are a few good options from early 2022!

Previous posts here!

floating in the blue lagoon (now's your moment) by intotheblue (@ghosthunterbuck) Buck and Eddie are trapped and seconds away from drowning, so Buck has to reveal his greatest secret to save Eddie's life: that he's a merman. I'm always a sucker for supernatural creature buddie fics! 2.2k words, rated G

calling out for somebody to hold tonight by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) Eddie has figured out he's in love with Buck and spills his sorrow to the bartender at the gay bar he ended up in. But when he indulges in one too many tequilas, the bartender calls Buck to come pick him up. 3.8k words, rated T

north country by iphigenias (@oatflatwhite) Pure established relationship fluff. They bicker about a leak in the roof and oatmeal cookies, and it's the sweetest thing you'll read this week. 1.4k words, rated T

you'll have what's meant to be by farfromthstars (@doeeyeseddie) In which Hen spends weeks watching Eddie "no game" Diaz make a fool of himself in front of Buck. An absolute delight! 7.8k words, rated T

a kind of fantasy (every time I look at you) by @renecdote Buck knows his boyfriend is hot, but seeing Eddie in an LAFD t-shirt and suspenders almost does him in this time. Improper thoughts at work and a very hot resolution at home! 2.5k words, rated E

Happy weekend to those who get some time off, I'll try to get back to somewhat regular posting of these again!

#frida's archive project #fic rec #911 fic rec #buddie fic rec #911 fic #buddie fic #911 fanfiction #buddie fanfiction

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scribbled-entity · 1 month ago

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I wanted to do objectober but I never did well with the daily monthly stuff, so I ended up going the easy way out and pick out prompts to do at the same time from multiple lists I like out of it to do.

Because the most important thing is to have fun, and this ain't worth burning myself out over!

Anyway this one is Pumpkin Carving and Costume! The trio wanted to go for an Ocean theme. Baxter seems to have taken a liking to the unfinished carved pumpkin.

Ok, Technically I actually have 3 lists of prompts from folks here, what I did was spin a wheel from 1-31 for each one and do the prompt from all 3 in one piece. It's just that I got 31,25,18. I'm not sure if I'll continue doing this for more of em if I do em tho.

Credit to those that made these!

@doodlebeeberry @3zekiiel @apandainoveralls

(I hope I got these right-)

#objectober #objectober 2024 #drawing #digital #my art #ii lightbulb #ii paintbrush #inanimate insanity #fan art #Halloween #lightbrush #prompts

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blondgirls-world · 6 months ago

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57 Reasons

TW: Meanspo

01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.

02. You don't NEED food.

03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.

04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.

05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.

06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".

07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".

08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.

09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.

10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.

11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.

12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.

13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!

14. Too many people in the world are obese.

15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.

16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.

17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.

18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.

19. Only thin people are graceful.

20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.

21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???

22. Underweight aka perfect body.

23. Ballerina? or beanbag?

24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.

25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.

26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.

27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.

28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!

29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.

30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)

31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.

32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.

33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!

34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.

35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.

36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.

37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.

38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.

39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.

40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.

41. Food rots your teeth.

42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.

43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.

44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?

45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!

46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!

47. Fat people make their country look bad.

48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.

49. Fat people die earlier.

50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.

51. All of the guys will want you.

52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.

53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.

54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.

55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.

56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.

57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?

-Fading Obsession: Pro Ana Mia Website plus Forum (fadingobsessions.com)

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mysteryshoptls · 10 months ago

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Happy Winter Holiday Gift Calendar 2023

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in during the Winter Holiday Campaign from 09 Dec 2023 to 31 Dec 2023! For those that want to read them again, you can find them in the Album, under GIFT CALENDAR 2023.

"How will you be spending the day?"

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

I think I will go to the library today. There were someone's scribbles all over the book I borrowed yesterday, you see. It disrupts my focus, so I plan to find a replacement book. Seriously... It's a terrible crime to deface a book like this.

Ace

Today? Well, it's snowing outside, and I got no club practice, so maybe I'll check out on my streaming service a movie or show that catches my eye. I can stay warm and cozy in my room, all while munching on some snacks. Don'tcha think we deserve lazy days like this sometimes?

Deuce

I'm going to try to finish the assignments I got today, before the day ends. That's what an honor student should do, right? But... The first question is already a tough prac app question...? Right! Just gotta hunker down and get down to it!

Cater

Maybe I'll surf Magicam for some 'cammable spots that're only available in the winter. Stuff like diamond dust, or hotels made from ice... Knowin' they're only limited to the season really gets me psyched up!

Trey

It's pretty cold every day now, so I think I'll stock up on lemonade-ginger syrup. It'll warm you right up if you drink some. What, according to the Queen of Hearts' Laws, we can't have lemonade after 8 o'clock? Well, this has ginger in it, so it's a completely different drink, isn't it?

SAVANACLAW

Leona

No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Jack

The track team has practice today. But since it's supposed to snow in the afternoon, it may just end up being indoor training. It takes a while or the body to get limber in the winter. That means we need to extra thorough in our warming up exercises.

Ruggie

Obviously, I'm gonna be workin'! Today, I'm at a cake shop, and tomorrow I'm waitin' tables at a restaurant... The holidays are coming up, so 'tis the season for a ton of high-payin' temp jobs to fill my pockets, too! Shishishi!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

As always, I will be awaiting everyone's visit to the Mostro Lounge. On a cold day such as this, we usually receive orders for dishes that are more common in the winter season. I'm sure today will be a rather busy day.

Jade

I thought perhaps I would make a herbarium. The atmosphere this time of year tends to be dry, so it is the perfect opportunity. How would you like to join me? No need to worry, I will show you how everything is done.

Floyd

Yesterday I saw someone wearing these boots lined with fur, and it looked kinda fascinating, so I thought I'd try to find some in town. I wonder if it's hard to walk in? If I find a good pair, I think I'll buy 'em and try 'em out.

SCARABIA

Kalim

Today, we have travelling salesmen from the Scalding Sands coming. I'm planning on buying a ton of stuff for the holidays! It's so exciting to think about what kind of treasure I might find! You should bring some friends over and check it out, too.

Jamil

There's no club activities today, so I plan to look into a few things. My family will be going on a trip over the holidays, you see. Tourist attractions, climate, local cuisine, souvenirs... Never a bad idea to gather too much information, don't you think?

POMEFIORE

Vil

I intend on picking up the spring coat I had on order. I'll also look for accessories that go with it while I'm out. Hm? It's too early to think about spring attire? If I wait to prepare everything for after it starts to get warmer, then I'll completely miss out on the season.

Epel

Snow's piling up again today, so I'm plannin' on clearing the magical shift field with the rest of my clubmates. Didn't bother me none, but the other guys were all dog-tired... Pathetic, ain't they?

Rook

I plan to check on the houseplants we are cultivating in the Science Club. Fufu, I wonder what sort of expressions they'll have today? I do hope there'll be some changes from yesterday that I'll get to enjoy.

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Obvi, just been hyperfixating on my online games, like always... Rather, why would you think I'd go out in cold weather like this in the first place? I recently overhauled the internet speed in the dorm, so it's crazy fast now lol. Gonna actually pull an all-nighter, it's been a while!

Ortho

It'll probably be a game day with my roommates, since the new game that I ordered online arrived. Physical games might take up more space, but I just can't help but want to actually collect my favorite games, y'know?

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

It's chilly today. The best thing to possibly do on days like this is to warm my room and enjoy some frozen treats. Perhaps I'll invite Lilia and the others later. Fufu... I suppose it's not a bad thing to be the one making preparations for them once in a while.

Silver

I will be practicing my swordsmanship with Father after this. I thought I would finish up my assignments beforehand, but... Before I realized it, I had fallen asleep and my notepad was completely blank. What should I do...?

Sebek

I plan to read the book I ordered from the Mystery Shop the other day. It's a book that I've been eagerly awaiting. Grandfather was the one to recommend it to me, so I must read it over and over again and tell him my thoughts on it!

Lilia

We have band practice today. However... When it gets cold like this, my fingers get numb and hard to move. Hm? Naah, I already have the songs memorized. It's really only about staying in rhythm with the other members!

OTHERS

Grim

Brrr, it's cold～! Hey, henchie! Today we're gonna stay cozy under that "ＫＯＴＡＴＳＵ" thingie. We'll have some snacks and play some games together... Myaha! Today's totally gonna be a blast!

Requested by Anonymous.

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madegeeky · 27 days ago

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31 Days of Horror Recs: Geeky's Top 5 Horror Movies

5. Alien - Honestly, the reason this movie is here is only partially the amazing monster design. The rest of it is a tie between Signourney Weaver being amazing as Ripley and the absolutely amazing job with the setting and tension.

4. Pan's Labyrinth - I fucking love the idea of the fae and I feel they're so underutilized in horror. Del Toro weaves both fantasy and war together to tell the most basic of stories: people trying to protect those they love and the lengths they will go through to do so.

3. When Evil Lurks - I fucking love this movie. I adore it. See my post about it.

2. The Thing (1982) - I mean, you can basically copy-paste what I said about Alien and have it be true for this movie. Amazing monster design, definitely, but it's the absolutely phenomenal job with tension that gets this movie up to #2. That scene with the petri dishes alone? *chefs kiss*

1. Pearl - If you've been here for a while this won't surprise you. I'm still so happy and excited that someone made a fucking horror character study. I won't go into here as I did that over on my post about it, but I am still giddy about the fact that this movie exists and I got to see it with my own eyeballs.

And that's the end of the year! I hope that everyone had fun and I'm so glad that I finally, finally managed to do the whole month!

#geeky talks #31 days of horror recs #geeky talks horror #i think next year i'll write nice* reviews for all the horror movies i watch #and i'll pick out the movies that are fav movies of that year #or movies that i think are just interesting #and i'll do 31 of those as my 31 days of halloween #so something like 31 days of horror movie reviews #i don't want to just do recs all over again #i'll start from anything i saw this month #i already know of at least one that it'll be on that list #*i specify nice because when i'm writing them on letterboxd sometimes it's just a snarky comment or a joke or a random though

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beomiracles · 4 months ago

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⌞ 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ⌝

hellooo ! a little early for halloween yes, but it's not my favourite holiday for nothing ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ ⎯ this year I've decided to do something absolutely terrifying, my very first kinktober and to say that I'm nervous is a huge understatement >.<

I start my final year of high school in two weeks and if I want to even have the slightest shot at getting done in time, I need to start now. So here we are !

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? Well, starting Oct. 1st and all the way until Oct. 31st I will be posting a small drabble (estimated 1k) every single day ! These drabbles are as most of you already know, smut centric, and will each contain a different kink ! ⎯ I will write for a different member each day and in total they will receive six drabbles each, with the exception of one who will get seven.

You guys are MORE than welcome to send in requests for this event ! (the more the merrier I say) If you decide to do so please heed my guidelines beforehand, because even as this is a smut event, I still have kinks I won't write for.

⎯ your request does not need to be in any way detailed, a member + a kink, is more than enough ! but if you want to elaborate please do! the more information I receive the closer I can get to recreating your vision ૮₍ ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ₎ა

for example:

For kinktober I'd like to request Yeonjun + breath play !

Do not be afraid to get real kinky, it's not called kinktober for nothing hehe. I'll be happy to try out more extreme kinks such as knife play :3 If there's anything I don't feel comfortable with I simply won't write it, no hard feelings !

you guys are also welcome to specify dom/sub dynamics if you’d like, otherwise i’ll go on feeling and switch it up for variation !

SLOTS (this list will receive regular updates)

Yeonjun [ closed for requests ]

Soobin [ closed for requests ]

Beomgyu [ closed for requests ]

Taehyun [ closed for requests ]

Hueningkai [ closed for requests ]

kinks already requested; exhibitionism, foodplay (2x), actirasty, bondage, cold temperature play, orgasm control, somnophilia, aphrodisiacs, roleplay, breeding, titty fucking, cockwarming, corruption, panty stuffing, knife/gun play, voyeurism, dollification, cbt, public sex, breath play, ice play, blindfolding, nipple bondage, impact play, breeding, strength kink, age gaps, pegging, mommy kink consider requesting for a kink that hasn't already been added on here

⎯ if I receive more than 31 asks I will simply pick the ones that entice me the most ! if one member receives more asks than slots available whereas one might not receive enough I might also use some of those ideas and apply to said member !

I hope you guys are as excited as I am !! feel free to drop your requests in my inbox starting today :> and as October approaches I will post a setlist !

#beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #serene speaks ⊹ ࣪ ˖#beomiracles kinktober 2024

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whumpdoyoumean · 27 days ago

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Whumptober #31

A/N: Wahoo, I made it! Thanks so much to everyone who left likes and comments and nice things in the reblogs, you all motivated me to keep going! :D

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

xxx i'm alive, i'm just not well

Louisa is surprised when River calls her on a Wednesday morning, and a little concerned. He's been home from hospital for a little over a week and she hasn't heard from him at all, except for one-word responses or thumbs-up emojis when she's texted him to check in.

"Hi. You alright?" she says as soon as she answers.

"Yeah, erm. I just had a favor to ask, if you wouldn't mind. And if the answer is no, then that's fine, just-"

"What do you need, River?" Louisa interrupts, not angrily but she's leaving soon and it sounds like the favor might be a big one.

"Could you give me a ride to work?"

Louisa makes a face. His tone had made it sound like he was going to ask for a huge loan, or help hiding a body. "Don't you have another week of leave?"

"I mean, yes, technically. But I'm losing my mind here, Louisa. I cannot take another day of sitting around in my flat. I'd get a cab, but these crutches are a pain. Please?"

"Did Lamb say you're good to come in?"

"I...haven't asked him. Better to ask forgiveness than permission and all that."

"Right," Louisa scoffs. "Because Lamb is famously a very forgiving man."

"Please, Louisa." There's a hint of genuine desperation in his voice that weakens any reservations Louisa might have had and she sighs.

"Can you be ready in ten minutes?"

"I'm ready now," River says, the relief and eagerness in his voice painfully evident. "Thank you. Coffee's on me."

"There won't be time to pick up coffee and you."

"Okay, then, drinks after work are on me. Or coffee tomorrow. Whichever."

Louisa smiles and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, alright. I'll see you soon, River."

As she drives to River's apartment, she tries to imagine what he's been doing for the past week and is slightly appalled when she comes up with nothing. It's not that she doesn't know him. If anything, they've grown a lot closer the past few months. And now with everything with his granddad, and what she's learned of his parents recently, she feels like she knows him better than ever (maybe more than either of them want). But she has no idea what he does outside of work. He could tell her he does ballet, or collects pieces for an elaborate Christmas village, and she wouldn't be more surprised than if she found out he likes putting together jigsaw puzzles or bingeing Netflix. Somehow, she doesn't think he does any of those things. She's not sure he does anything outside of work.

That would explain why he's so eager to get back. Not that she can judge him for that; Lord knows she's used that place as an escape from her feelings herself.

Louisa parks across the street from River's flat. She doesn't see him on the pavement, so she calls him. The phone rings and rings; he doesn't answer. Suppressing a sigh, she gets out of the car, then changes her mind about suppressing it and sighs, loudly, because being annoyed with River feels better than the worry that's trying to take root in her stomach.

She finds him sitting on his stairs, halfway down with his crutches on the steps beside him. For a second it's funny, but only for a second because then she sees the expression on his face. She's not sure she's ever seen him look so angry. Red rises in his cheeks when he sees her.

"It's these fucking things," he practically spits, giving his crutches a shove and sending one of them clattering toward Louisa. "And these fucking stairs. I fucking hate this!"

Louisa's brow furrows as she starts up the steps toward him. "They did say it would be harder going down than up," she says, trying for levity. He just scowls.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"How have you been getting down before this?" Louisa asks, and River lets out a short, bitter laugh.

"I haven't."

Louisa blinks. "You've just been in your flat for a week straight?"

He shrugs.

"What about groceries?"

"I've been eating a lot of takeaway."

She sighs, reaching toward him to give him a hand up. "Let me help--"

"I don't need help!" River snaps, and Louisa pulls back, frowning. He seems to realize he was too harsh, because some of the fury leaves his expression. "I don't need help," he repeats, and this time he just sounds miserable. "I just need to be better. I'm not well and I need—I need things to be fucking better--"

He cuts himself off with a gasp, his face crumbling. He looks utterly defeated, on the verge of breaking down completely.

"River..." Louisa sits on the steps next to him, and apparently that's the push that sends him over the edge.

He lets out a broken sob, clasping one hand over his mouth like maybe he can push it back, or maybe stop any more from escaping. It accomplishes neither.

"C'mere," Louisa says quietly, scooting closer to him. She puts an arm around his shoulders, feeling a little awkward at first but doing it anyway. He leans against her, and she can feel tremors running through him as he cries. She doesn't say anything. Any concerns about work and being late are forgotten as she holds him.

"I'm so tired," he manages through his tears. "And I'm alone."

There's an ache in Louisa's chest, an old one that hasn't bothered her like this in ages. Her immediate instinct is to push it away, like she's been doing, but something tells her that that's not what River needs right now. She takes a shaky breath.

"I know it feels that way," she says around the growing lump in her throat. "Believe me, River, I know. But you aren't. Or, you don't have to be, anyway."

River doesn't answer, but he seems to be calming down some. He takes a deep, shuddery breath.

"I went and saw him, the day before everything."

Louisa doesn't have to ask who him is. River takes another breath before he continues.

"It was like he was there, but he wasn't. He didn't...didn't speak to me. Didn't look at me. And at first I thought he was just angry with me, that he was deliberately ignoring me, but..." He gives a helpless shrug. "He's been worse since I put him in that place. And I know that what he did, what he gave Harkness...it's unthinkable. But he did it for my mum, and he did it for me. He did everything for me, and I couldn't do the one thing...Fuck."

Louisa holds him a little tighter. "I'm so sorry, River."

"And now I can't even walk down the fucking stairs," River adds with a small, watery laugh. He pulls away from Louisa, wiping at his face. "God, I don't know what all that was about. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me," Louisa says. Her mobile buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out of her pocket, glancing down at the screen. "Shit."

"What?"

Louisa puts her phone back. "It's Catherine. I'm late and Lamb's pissed."

"Oh! You can go, I'll be...well, I'll manage."

Louisa stands and extends a hand. "You're coming to work. Come on!"

"Louisa..." River begins. "I don't--"

She shakes her head. "Nope! You're coming. And then we're going out for drinks. You promised."

River's brow furrows. "I don't think I promised. But I did say that I'd buy you a drink."

"Drinks. Plural."

"Right. Drinks."

He reaches up and takes her hand and she hauls him upward, helping him get his crutches situated. Once he's upright, he looks down the flight of stairs with a small sigh. And then determination flashes across his features and he takes a deep breath and nods once.

"I've got this."

Louisa smiles. "You've got this."

xxx end

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thalialunacy · 7 months ago

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[for the @calaisreno May Prompt-a-long, and based on a true story.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) 9: intimidation (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

John jerks his head up from his laptop the second he realises something alarming:

The flat is quiet.

'Sherlock.'

'Hmm?' Sherlock doesn't look up from his experiment.

'Where's Rosie?'

Sherlock raises his hand to point. 'She's right--' He finally actually raises his head. 'Oh. Dear.'

'Hell,' John curses, ignoring a shot of pain as he stands too quickly.

Sherlock's Voice of Reason tendencies are very useful here. He puts himself in front of John and forces his gaze. 'Don't let's panic. She didn't grow wings, nor is it likely she suddenly gained the physical capacity to climb a baby gate. So she's just hidden herself somewhere. She probably thinks it's a game. You search the sitting room, I'll take the loo and then the kitchen. Alright?'

John nods, and promises himself he'll show Sherlock his appreciation later. Possibly with something beyond the snatched kisses they've managed so far. 'Alright.'

Three minutes later, he hears Sherlock's long sigh. 'John.' John strides over to where the detective is standing in front of his bedroom door. 'Apparently…'

'It locks?'

'It locks.'

'What about the second loo door?'

Sherlock grimaces. 'I always keep that one locked from the inside.'

'Alright, where's your key?'

'I don't have a key for either door. Never did do.'

John leans in towards the door. 'Rosie?' he calls, trying to keep his tone calm.

'Yeah, Daddy!'

The air escapes his lungs in a great dirty whoosh. 'Oh thank Christ,' he mutters. He raises his head and turns to Sherlock. 'Can you go see if--'

Sherlock's already halfway out the kitchen door, calling back, 'I'm sure she'll have one.'

But Mrs Hudson does not, in fact, have one, she tells John once she's come upstairs, wringing her hands as best she can with her wrist in a soft cast. 'I'm sorry! I'll call a locksmith straight away.'

'Nonsense,' Sherlock says over her. 'My lockpicks are, unhelpfully, behind the locked door, but I bet you could get me a hairpin and a nail file, please?'

John looks at Mrs Hudson and shrugs. 'Not things I keep on hand, I'm afraid.'

'Oh, pah, you boys. I'll be back in a tic.'

'Do you think you can actually pick it?' John asks quietly as soon as he can hear her feet on the stairs.

'Erm…possibly.'

'Possibly.'

'It's quite old and disused, John.'

'And?'

'And that means rust. Decay. Mechanisms that don't work anymore.'

'Christ,' John mutters. He puts his forehead to the door again. 'Sweetheart?' he calls.

'Daddy?'

'Will you open the door for me, Rosie?'

'Ermmm, no,' she says clearly.

'God grant me patience,' he says to himself, and jerks his head up when he hears Sherlock laugh.

'Sorry,' Sherlock says, clearly not sorry at all, 'but you sound like my mother.'

'Yes, I'd imagine she needed a deep well of patience to raise you.'

'Endless. Rosamund?' he says to the door. 'Do you want to unlock that door so you can help me with an experiment?'

John eyes him, but if it works, then--

'Nope,' she replies, popping her P like a certain someone.

'She's evil,' John mutters.

'She's stubborn.'

'She gets that from you.'

'I beg your pardon,' Sherlock says, quite offended. 'I am reasonable.'

'Sure. When you're not being stubborn.'

Sherlock pivots very unsubtly. 'Ms Watson, if you unlock that door, then Mrs Hudson will bake you some of those cakes you like.'

John pushes against his shoulder. 'Her wrist is broken!' he whispers incredulously.

'We can buy some at the bakery,' Sherlock whispers back. 'She'll never know.'

'You're evil.'

'Yes, well, you let me past the threshold, so you can really only blame yourself.'

'No, thank you!' Rosie calls back.

John rolls his eyes. 'Sure, she's polite for Mrs Hudson.'

'Clever.'

'Not helpful.'

'We could try intimidation.'

'Could we, though?' John asks, bemused.

'You can be very intimidating when you like, despite your stature.'

'Thanks,' he replies dryly.

But before they can debate the merits of trying to intimidate a toddler into doing anything, Mrs Hudson re-appears with the requested items. 'Oh, I do hope you can pick it, Sherlock. I will be very disappointed in your skills otherwise, you speak so highly of them.'

John coughs a laugh into his hand. 'Thanks, Mrs H.'

Twenty minutes later, though, John's growing desperate, texting everyone in his phone to see if they have any brilliant ideas. Wondering how much it would cost to just lift the door off it's hinges.

In the end, he should have known to just ring Molly first. 'Just put me on, okay?' she says quickly. John does as requested. 'Hi, Rosie!' she says cheerfully via speakerphone.

John and Sherlock exchange a look. 'Rosie,' John says, trying to keep his tone pleasantly neutral. 'If you come out, you can talk to Aunt Molly,'

They all hold their breath.

Then the lock turns.

[❤️]

#may prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #Parentlock #Toddler shenanigans #I was somehow Molly in the RL version #bbc sherlock

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laxmiree · 9 months ago

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[CN] MLQC Lucien’s On Fire MQ translation + video with sub EN (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

On Fire MQ | Part 1 (1-2) | Part 2 (3-4) | Part 3 (5-6) | Moisturize ASMR

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is currently the most explicit compared to other dates and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 17 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Part 3 & 4-> [Here]

✂———————–

[Subbed Video, TURN ON CC!]

youtube

✂———————–

—[Part 5]— Video Timestamp [31:11]

The kitchen is filled with all sorts of ingredients.

After studying a few recipes, Lucien starts by cleaning the vegetables one by one, arranging them neatly based on size and color.

I put the excess ingredients into the refrigerator and see him preparing to chop vegetables on the cutting board. His movements are meticulous yet unfamiliar.

MC: Do you want some help?

Lucien arches an eyebrow ever so slightly, then frees up one hand to pull me behind him, his voice gentle.

Lucien: Yes, then come closer and help me, okay?

I wrap my arms around Lucien from behind, adjusting his hand to control the force and posture of chopping vegetables.

MC: [smiles softly]...Are you sure about this?

Lucien: Mm, I'm not particularly skilled at this. This position makes it easy for you to correct me at any time.

I wrap my arm around him with some struggle. I can feel his heat seeping through our clothes, causing a slight warmth in my ears.

Unwittingly, I remember the first time I spent New Year's Eve with Lucien. He also once stood behind me and wrapped his arm around me under the pretext of learning to make dumplings.

MC: ...Then, I'll make an effort to not get distracted.

MC: It's better to cut in from this angle...

Two people working together noticeably accelerate the process. After the pot is ready, Lucien and I stand on either side of it, seasoning it together.

Seasonal vegetables lose their raw appearance in the sizzling hot oil, transforming into delectable dishes on the dining table.

MC: The colors are right, and the cuts are similar. At least in terms of appearance, we've perfectly replicated these dishes.

MC: I just wonder how they taste. These dishes look so good, they couldn't possibly be bad, right?

Lucien: They're definitely going to be delicious. After all, we made them together.

Lucien: However, in the coming year, I will try my best to break away from this lady’s help and lead this process independently.

MC: Hehe, it's okay if you don't break away.

MC: I'm happy to accompany you and enjoy this process together. Plus, occasionally being Professor Lucien's "guide", I couldn't ask for more.

Lucien glances at me with a smile on his face, then bends down to kiss me lightly on the eyes.

Lucien: [chuckle then KISS!!!!] Since I have your permission, I won't insist on proving myself anymore.

Lucien: In the days ahead, accompany me to tackle more complex menus.

At the dining table, Lucien picks up his chopsticks, slowly bringing each dish to his mouth. He chews carefully, seeming to savor the unique taste of each dish

Though it's just an ordinary lunch, he eats with exceptional seriousness.

Lucien: The change in cutting technique has a much greater impact on the crispness of the vegetables than I anticipated.

MC: It's subtle, isn't it? Even though the cooking method remains the same, just changing the cutting technique makes the texture much crispier!

Lucien: Hmm, it's also interesting to stew meat with fruits.

MC: Hehe, that's because fruit acids not only tenderize the muscle tissue but also blend in smoothly with the flavor.

Lucien: [chuckles] So, although all these dishes are delicious, I particularly enjoy the stew you've added your ingenuity to.

It's rare to see him provide detailed commentary on dishes beyond just "delicious", and I can't help but raise my chin in pride.

MC: I've actually made some observations before when cooking. Just a slight change in the dish can make a huge difference in taste!

MC: It's kind of like the difference between the front leg meat and the hind leg meat, very distinct!

Lucien's gaze, which was originally focused on tasting the dishes, shifts towards me. Under the lamplight, his eyes soften, as gentle as water flowing into a stream.

Lucien: This classmate's metaphors are always so imaginative.

Lucien: It seems like every inch of the world you perceive is so vibrant and intriguing—

Lucien: Just like these rich dishes, they can evoke a range of emotions and also spark inspiration.

I prop my chin up, looking at him with interest.

MC: If that's the case, then I also want to be the “fruit” in the stew, making Professor Lucien even "sweeter"~

MC: Every happy and interesting experience in my perception, I want you to experience them together with me~

Lucien's eyes soften, and he taps his knuckles gently on the table.

Lucien: [whispers] In that case, can we do something fun together right now?

My eyes light up, and I stand up, walking over to his side. I cup his face in my hands, smiling as we lock eyes.

MC: Of course, then... what do you want to do?

Before I finish speaking, Lucien's hand gently lowers my head, and he plants a light kiss on my lips.

Although it's just a gentle touch, and although the atmosphere isn't ambiguous, I feel my heart beating wildly due to the unexpected intimacy.

I look at him with a flushed face, seeing overflowing tenderness in his eyes, and a magnified reflection of myself.

Lucien: I want to thank this lady who “shares the world” with me.

Then, he leans down, slowly closing the distance between us—

Until our hearts and minds feel the same frequency, melding together into the gentle twilight.

As the last rays of twilight fall, Lucien invites me to experience the festival in this small town.

Lanterns adorned with festive decorations hang on the streetlights, and the air is filled with the scent of firecrackers.

As New Year's Eve approaches, there are already many stalls in the small night market, with couplets, paper-cut decorations, and various potted plants joyfully arranged together.

MC: These paper-cut decorations are quite ordinary, yet they're selling for two digits. They're not as pretty as the ones you've made, but I just bought something really nice!

I take out a box of pink, peach-shaped pastries and hand one to Lucien.

MC: "Longevity Peach Buns"~ Would you like to try one?

Lucien takes a bite, his brows furrowing momentarily as he examines the bun in his hand with a hint of skepticism.

Lucien: [smiles helplessly] I wouldn't recommend it.

Even Lucien, who isn't usually picky about food, expressed dissatisfaction with the bun, which piqued my interest.

I take a bite, and the dry bun with a hint of artificial flavoring fails to satisfy even basic taste expectations.

MC: Uh...!

MC: [unamused] Although it's not tasty, it does look festive... Let's just display it at home when we get back.

Lucien smiles and shakes his head, then picks up a set of spring festival couplets from a nearby stall.

Lucien: The wording on these couplets seems rather ordinary.

Lucien: I'm thinking, why don't we buy some raw materials and try writing our own couplets at home?

MC: Sounds good! Then when the God of Wealth arrives, he'll see that the couplets we've put up are heartfelt and sincere.

MC: If he's in a good mood, who knows, maybe we'll strike it rich~

From the "福" (fortune/blessings) character for the front door to the refrigerator and even the shoe cabinet, to the money tree for the entrance and the glowing little dragon...

As we chat and laugh, the bags we're carrying are already overloaded.

We load the bags into the car and return to our seats. Just as I start to fasten my seatbelt, Lucien pushes open the car door again.

Lucien: I suddenly remembered there's something else I need to buy.

MC: Then I'll go with you.

Lucien: No need, it's right nearby. I'll be back soon.

Before I could react, Lucien had already closed the car door and disappeared into the bustling crowd once again.

✂———————–

—[Part 6]— Video Timestamp [36:42]

(T/N: if you haven't watched the video, please watch it from this timestamp! The BGM choice + voice acting really help set the mood~)

MC: What did Lucien go to buy...?

Snacks, or decorations? Before my thoughts can stray any further, Lucien's figure returns to the car with bags in hand.

MC: You're back!

The car door is pulled open, and along with Lucien’s scent, the chilly wind brings in a subtle smell... of gunpowder?

Lucien: [chuckles] I bought some fireworks...

MC: Oh~

Lucien: And firecrackers.

MC: [surprised] Eh?

I widen my eyes and look into the bag. Besides a few fireworks, there are…

MC: O- one-thousand-firecrackers-rolls and firework rockets?

Seeing my reaction, Lucien satisfactorily curls up the corners of his lips.

Lucien: As an "experiencer," of course I must try some sufficiently exciting things.

The car, loaded with goods, returns to our courtyard. Lucien parks the car and, together with me, we unroll the long red firecrackers on the ground.

The long firecrackers snake around like a red dragon lying on the ground, almost covering the entire courtyard.

I hold the lighter, watching the fuse that is about to ignite the firecrackers and can’t help but feel nervous in my heart.

MC: Lucien, could you, could you wait a moment? I'm not quite mentally prepared yet!

Lucien: [chuckles] Then allow me.

Lucien seems to chuckle softly. Before I can react, he has already struck the match, and the flame dances on his fingertips.

The fuse instantly ignites, speeding forward like a shooting star. I quickly grab Lucien's hand tightly, pulling him away as we run.

The next second, the firecrackers erupt like an awakened dragon, emitting a thrilling roar.

My body instinctively tenses, and I hastily cover Lucien's ears while he does the same for mine.

(the way they instinctively protect each other instead of themselves :”…)

His broad palm reassuringly shields those startling explosions.

Despite the barrier, my hearing becomes even more acute, listening as the firecrackers "rampage" through the courtyard.

I look at Lucien, in the faint red glow, his face is coated with a shimmering warm light, and from beginning to end, his lips are always brimming with a smile.

The bright light swiftly dashes through the dark night. After the long-lasting thousand blasts fade away, the air in the courtyard seems to have turned red.

Lucien waves his hand in front of him, trying to dispel the pungent smell of firecrackers, yet the smile on his lips never falters.

Lucien: Whether it's from the sense of hearing or the sense of smell... The stimulation I'm receiving is far more excessive than I anticipated.

MC: Many things you just have to experience firsthand to truly feel them!

MC: Just like I've come to realize, besides with the beauty of fireworks, Professor Lucien and the firecrackers are also quite "compatible"!

Lucien raises an eyebrow and takes out all the remaining fireworks and firecrackers from the car.

Lucien: That sentence sounds like a stereotypical impression of "Professor Lucien".

Lucien: Fortunately, tonight happens to be a good opportunity for "out with the old, in with the new."

The night sky stretches endlessly, as dark as a piece of black velvet, while the courtyard ground is scattered with remnants of red firecrackers.

Lucien stands between the darkness of the night and the redness around him, with the match he ignites in his hand being the only source of light around.

This glimmer of light remains silent, yet always manages to ignite clusters of earth-shattering fireworks in my world.

So I walk towards him, and together we light up all these fireworks.

The light flies into the night sky, showering down gently, casting warm hues upon us.

And beside me, Lucien's smiling expression is just like the fireworks filling up the sky.

In the end, Lucien and I left a few fireworks unlit and returned to the car for warmth.

The distant sound of firecrackers can be faintly heard, with occasional fireworks lighting up the night sky, illuminating the scene inside the car.

We sit side by side in the back seat, enjoying a moment of tranquility after the playful revelry.

Bright light filters through the car window, casting ambiguous light and shadows on Lucien's face. I trace his profile, and my heart is filled with joy.

MC: Looking back, we've had a lot of fun in just a few days.

MC: Going to the home exhibition together, selecting ingredients and cooking together, wandering through the festival night market, and even setting off fireworks and firecrackers...

MC: I wonder how Professor Lucien feels about this "town trip"?

Lucien meets my expectant gaze, but instead of immediately responding, he ponders for a moment.

Lucien: I've thought of many different answers, many different adjectives.

Lucien: Happiness, warmth, contentment... Each word seems to encapsulate my feelings, yet they all appear a little shallow.

I listen earnestly, reaching out my hand to intertwine with his palm.

Lucien: Whether it's in the warm room, cooking together under the bright lights, or lighting firecrackers together and making "noise".

Lucien: At the moment of accomplishing these things, I have a vague feeling.

Lucien: These seem to be things I've never consciously longed for but deeply desire to do.

Lucien: And year after year, in the New Year, you've helped me realize these, even wishes that I myself didn't fully grasp.

Lucien pauses unusually as if carefully considering his words. After a while, he simply casts his gaze toward me.

Lucien: So if there's anything missing, it's that I want my little lady to feel my happiness.

MC: I've already felt it...

But Lucien gently shakes his head.

Lucien: I want to paint it more vividly for you. Not through carefully crafted rhetoric, perhaps not even by speaking.

(T/N: insert the solemn, melancholic, yet hopeful 5th anniv special theatre BGM 😭 if you've read this far and haven't watched the video, I’d actually beg you to watch 🥺 The timestamp is: [42:09] )

Lucien gently takes my hand and places it over his heart.

In an instant, the world quieted down.

With the familiar heartbeat in my palm, it feels as if the overflowing sense of happiness is also held within my grasp.

"Thump, thump," resounding as if echoing through the entire universe. And it speaks—

Lucien is very happy, very content with life.

And so am I.

At this moment, I seem to also taste the shallowness of "words", for no matter how many words are spoken, they can't fully express the deep love beating in my heart.

So I recklessly approached him, wanting to convey my most profound feelings to him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingertips threading through his soft hair, as I lean in closer, Lucien gently but firmly pulls me into his embrace.

The smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils, seemingly carrying the heat capable of igniting flames with it.

The lips merely brush against each other, then clinging lovingly and inseparably, unwilling to part ever again.

Our tongues entwine as if thirsting, drawing out every bit of sweetness, until our breaths become so chaotic that they can't be distinguished from each other.

Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts?

While thinking about all this in a daze, Lucien's whisper comes to my ear.

Lucien: [whispers breathlessly] Is this kiss enough to explain it all?

MC: Not enough...

I instinctively spoke out, not knowing whether I was answering him or telling myself.

Upon hearing this, with one arm still around me, Lucien unbuttons his shirt with his other hand, revealing his well-defined physique.

Lucien: [chuckles and whispers] Then tonight, I will lay bare all of myself to you, okay?

His eyes still carry a faint smile, but they are moist as if they've captured light, burning and deeply sincere.

I nod and kiss the corner of his eye, taking in all of him.

His warm lips carry a slightly wet sensation as they wander over my body, igniting my skin like clusters of flame.

The intimate and meticulous licking makes me feel like I'm about to melt, my body instinctively tensing up, sliding towards the only fulcrum.

Lucien: [noises of him eating… something, and sighs in satisfaction] ….

The fingers holding my calves suddenly tighten, pulling them wider apart. I sit back heavily and then whimper out in pain.

MC: [blushing] Lucien….

My voice comes out sweetly and aggrievedly, elongating the end of his name with a deliberate undertone. It sounds like pleading for mercy yet also carries a tacit demand.

The sound of muffled laughter reaches my ears, Lucien flips over to be on top of me and presses me down, kissing me on the lips.

Between the disorganized breaths, he murmurs something on the tip of his tongue.

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit?

I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

The decorations on my clothes roughly brush against Lucien's exposed skin as he moves, causing him to tremble lightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] These little decorations are a bit in the way.

Those words are much colder than his kisses, and I can't help but watch my heart beat faster as he gently picks at them and lets the decorations fall.

It's just that there seem to be more and more things that get in the way between us… the top, the belt, and the skirt, they all seem a bit unnecessary.

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

The moist sensation behind my ears makes me feel like I'm lying on a stream, his voice, hoarse and low, reveals a fervent longing.

Lucien: [hoarsely] Now, can you understand this feeling clearly?

My heart beats fiercely, and within my hazy consciousness, I seem to hear the emotions hidden behind Lucien's questions.

Instinctively, I tighten my arms around his neck and wrap my legs behind his waist. My hand gently caresses him.

MC: I think... I still need more time to understand.

MC: This is what you want too, isn't it?

Lucien’s laughter-tinged voice drifts into my ears.

Lucien: [whispers followed by more wet kiss noises] The night is still very long.

The ambiguous warmth inside the car envelops us like the steam of a hot spring, carrying us into the clouds.

It seems there are small trinkets on the dashboard that can't withstand the shaking, but we are too preoccupied to notice.

Unintentionally, someone presses the car window button, and the distant sound of fireworks leaps into our ears.

Tiny snowflakes land on my outstretched arms, only to be melted into droplets by the heat.

"Splat," "splat."

This night, when the old days and the new years merge, we seem to need a little more warmth.

--———FIN————–

✂———————

[Bonus: some h-word translation notes before afterword because I don't want to ruin the beautiful smut with my dumb commentary]

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit? I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

(T/N: this sentence implies that the pain is not from her sitting back but… him fitting inside *cough*)

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

(T/N: this description implies that they are both already completely undressed at that point. To counteract the chill from being unclothed, the warm air conditioner is turned on :>)

✂———————

[Afterword, rambles and highlight(s)]

⎯ Just like how sunlight helps plants to grow, love nurtures Lucien's growth over the years.

Even after 6 years, Love and Producer still have such a talented writing team that never FAILS at making us feel h-word and cry at almost the same time ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽. This date is not angsty in the traditional sense, in fact, the date in general is so sweet and full of daily life. But the end really punches you just right in the feelings ESPECIALLY with the 5th anniversary special theatre BGM.

Honestly, it’s hard to explain why this date is so good and makes many CN stans cry by the end of the date. It’s… something that you can experience only if you know him for so, so long. It's something that can only be felt by witnessing his growth from the moment you first 'met' him until now. The feelings of observing someone you've ‘nurtured’ with love and care for years finally blossoming into the most colorful and unique 'fireworks' you've ever witnessed… they’re really hard to describe.

But anyway, before this essay turns into an analysis of "The Little Prince" and Lucien, let’s talk about the date, shall we? If last year's date theme was along the lines of "accepting yourself and your emotions from the past," then I predict that this year's theme seems to be about "experiencing and living the present"; and this is such a fitting theme for Lucien. Why? Because as a character, before he met the MC, he was simply an "observer" instead of a “participant”, curiously observing and experimenting on everything around him, and yet never really ‘participates’ and ‘experiences’ in it. However, thanks to MC, he has begun to actively participate in the hustle and bustle of the world, experiencing many things that have made him more vibrant and ‘alive’. This transition from ‘observer’ to ‘participant’ is cleverly depicted in this date by making him into a participant in the experiments with MC, rather than solely being the experimenter as usual.

This date as a whole centers around two important things, experience and emotions. While the relationship between experience and emotion can be complex and multifaceted, the way I get it from this date is that; if ‘experience’ is more about the ‘input’ that we get from our senses, then ‘emotions’ are the ‘output’ of our experience. In other words, experiences provide the stimuli that trigger emotional responses. Both experience and emotions are important things for us humans; together, they contribute to our ability to fully engage with and appreciate the present moment, rather than simply going through the motions of survival… They’re also two things that Lucien has been learning over the years.

First, let’s talk about experience, when our observer scientist sheds his lab coat and removes his glasses, he transforms into an ordinary person sincerely in love with you and deeply experiencing love. This date depicts how he experiences love in the warmth of everyday life, and amusingly, it almost makes this date feel as if MC and Lucien are newlyweds on their honeymoon ahah. From shopping for furniture for their new home to encountering silly and unexpected problems that the organizer throws at them (just like how everyday lives always throw problems at us lol), to grocery shopping and cooking together, and cough even the fact that they’re basically ‘on fire’ everyday cough— The grocery shopping parts are especially funny (with just Lucien being Lucien lol)... and cooking scene is just chef kiss. It's really endearing to witness how he adapts to homemaking tasks in his unique way, all because of his love for you.

Still on the topic of ‘experience’; do you know that both of the more descriptive spicy scenes are part of the plot? First, the spicy domming ‘guiding’ scene. In that scene, MC guides him to focus on what his senses told him instead of giving processed answers. And this seems to work because, throughout the date, you can notice him developing more opinions on things based on his senses as he experiences everything. Previously, because he never slowed down and always looked far ahead (See also, his Summer UR MQ, recent CN birthday date and story for more in-depth digging about this theme-), he never fully ‘experienced’ life. But with MC's guidance, her “sharing the world” with him, he starts to perceive the world around him more keenly. This transformation is evident in tasting scenes and fireworks scenes, where he earnestly uses his senses to taste their cooking, hearing the loud firecracker noises, and smelling the scent of gunpowder. She doesn’t only ‘bring’ color to his monochrome world, but also the taste, smell and noises of the world around him as he experiences the present. All these stimuli make his world no longer feel ‘silent’ to him. Sometimes, loving him feels like pulling a ‘god’ from his pedestal to experience the lively and ordinary life of mortals. Perhaps he loses some of his ‘invincibility’ (like for example, that causes him to fall for consumerism trap lol), but in this way, he becomes more alive and real.

Then about emotions. The initial discussion about emotions centers around “emotional synchronization” between lovers, setting the stage for exploring how MC and Lucien perceive and handle each other's emotions. Just as MC accepts all of Lucien's emotions, whether they be sadness or happiness [referencing Lucien’s CN birthday date in 2023], Lucien reciprocates by accepting all of her emotions. Lucien demonstrates emotional stability and maturity as a partner, creating an environment where MC feels no need to restrain her emotions in his presence. He is fond of and intrigued by her colorful range of emotions (and a bittersweet reminder of how her moods affect her “color” in his eyes ahah:”””). This highlights their curiosity and fascination with understanding each other on a deeper level.

For them, all human emotions are important, but MC initially wanted Lucien to feel more positive emotions. With the concept of “emotional sync” in mind, she promises to convey more positive emotions for him, inadvertently restraining her own emotions in the process. However, during their time together in the small city, she learns that even so-called “negative emotions” have value. Despite facing challenges or "troubles," both characters find joy and support in each other's company. MC finds Lucien's moments of vulnerability endearing, while Lucien appreciates MC's encouragement and companionship. They both come to acknowledge the natural ebb and flow of emotions in their relationship, realizing that some negative emotions are far from being detrimental; it’s simply part of their day-to-day life. Those emotional fluctuations are just a very small part of their overall happiness~

ALL THE FEELINGS FROM THE SECOND EXPLICIT SPICY SCENES SUCCESSFULLY MADE ME CRY. Experiencing all sorts of things with her during experiments and everyday life … even things and wishes that he never consciously longed for yet always wanted:

许墨很快乐,很幸福

The meaning of these words are difficult to render accurately in English, and my “Xu Mo/Lucien is very happy, very content with his life.” are just barely scratching the surface… While 快乐(kuài lè) refers to a more transient or temporary feeling of happiness and joy, often related to a fun event, 幸福 (xìng fú) encompasses a profound and enduring sense of happiness and contentment in life. It signifies a state of well-being that extends beyond momentary pleasures, often associated with having a loving family, spouse, fulfilling relationships, and a sense of overall satisfaction with one's life. So when combined, it emphasizes the fact that while experiencing all the ups and downs of the world with her, Lucien is not only feeling immediate joy and pleasure ("快乐"), but also enjoying a deeper, more lasting sense of happiness and fulfilment ("幸福"), he is both happy in the moment and all of his life. By slowing down and deeply experiencing each moment of their shared life, he discovers his own happiness and longing that even he himself never knows about. So, he wants her to experience every bit of his happiness and love that has blossomed because of her… candidly and unrestrainedly wants her to experience all of him.

In another vein, LOVE IS A VERB, NOT A NOUN!!! It's a continual action, continual choice, continual promise to another person. And no matter how many words are spoken, both of them can't fully express the deep love beating in heart. So, when words are too “shallow” to even capture a fraction of deep love and happiness, he can only confess them through instinctive actions, recklessly pouring out his heart in every embrace, every kiss, and every touch. And yet, the question still stands, Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts? They’ve done everything, yet it still feels not enough, and perhaps… it will take a lifetime of shared experiences and ‘confessions’ to fully reveal the depths of his love and longing for her.

AND SPEAKING OF CHOICE(S), the BGM choice for that last spicy scene is freaking genius!!! It comes from 5th-anniversary special theatre“The many choices of life” video (You can check it on my YT!). This special video is all about the power of your/MC’s choice. I want to highlight the first “what if” scenario. The first “what if” is about what would happen if she had chosen to not meet Lucien.

In this scenario, the narrative explores what would have happened if MC hadn't met Lucien. Without their encounter, Lucien would still be questioning and seeking understanding from the world around him. He would have found another path, albeit one that didn't involve her, dedicating himself to searching for the 'most optimal solution.' However, his world would remain black and white, indifferent to whether there were people who tried to understand him and care for him :”. Anyway, by using this as a BGM choice, it accentuates the power of your/MC’s choice in shaping him being the way he is right now; while still running on the path to explore truth with dedication, he also finds happiness and contentment along the way because of her choice.

In conclusion, Lucien’s writers never fail to captivate us and deliver top-tier writing! This date highlights the importance of experiencing life fully and embracing all emotions, while also underscoring the transformative power of love~ His writers really excel at utilizing his character to its fullest potential. I can go on and on, talking about all the small details and references on this date but this UR won’t be published any time soon if I do LOL. If you’ve read so far, thank you for reading this date and my rambles~

#I wont talk much in tags bc i put it all in my essay #enjoy the 1.8k essay LOL #10/10 makes me WET not only from iykwim but also TEARS #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers #Youtube

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poke-me-with-a-stick · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 31 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

for the entire story, click Here!

Enjoy!

---

Jason eyed Danny from his position on the couch, pretending to be completely engrossed in his book. Ever since the other morning, the teen had been acting... weird. At least, weirder than normal.

It had started when Jason had got up the day prior. As per usual after a gruling patrol, after breakfast and a shower, he had passed out as soon as his head touched the pillow, and stayed asleep until the sun was just an hour or two from setting. He probably would have slept in longer, but his stomach had made it's need for food known, and his bladder wasn't too happy with him either.

When he walked into the kitchen, intending to put together the world's greatest sandwich to tame his hunger, he had come in to the sight of the Demon brat and Jazz fast asleep, Jazz curled up like a content cat in the arm chair and Damien sprawled ungracefully on the couch. Both had been covered in throw blankets, and a Disney movie played on in the background. The only person not asleep had been Danny, who on first glance seemed to be back to working on his gun. And Jason would have left it at that, if not for the teen seeming to panic as he walked into the kitchen.

He had startled, flailed a bit as he whirled around to face the man. The gun had been hastily shoved under a pillow, out of Jason's line of sight. "Heeeey," The kid had drawled, his midwestern accent making the word roll off his tongue naturally. "I, uh. Didn't hear you get up?"

"...Okay?" Jason had raised an eyebrow at the teen, still not awake enough to deal with whatever was going on with him. "I got hungry. It's almost dinner time." He pointed out, his tone dry.

"It is?" Danny blinked owlishly at him before looking at the time. "Huh, I guess it is."

Jason couldn't help but smirk at the kid. "What, to absorbed in your work or something?"

It was meant to be a joke, just some light ribbing that was natural between him and his friends and family. Instead of laughing or rolling his eyes, like Jason was used to, the teen seemed to grow tense. His eyes drifted to the wall above Jason's shoulder, obviously trying not to look directly at the man, as he tried to laugh it off. "Me? Absorbed in my work? Psh, nah! I would never! Haha..." his laugh was audibly strained.

An awkward silence fell between them, Jason staring as the teen figited in place. "Uh-huh. Right, okay." Jason had to force himself to break the silence. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starved. How's about you wake those two up, and I'll make us all some sandwiches?" He had barely finished talking before Danny nodded enthusiastically, practiacally leaping to wake the others in the room.

Jason didn't mention Danny's weird behavior to either his sister or Damien, but he couldn't let it go either. And the more he observed the teen, the more he was convinced that Danny was hiding something.

That led to now. With Jason's face half-burried in his book and Danny fiddling with the gun's casing. Fiddling, not actually doing anything besides screwing and unscrewing the screws that fixed everything together. Every few minutes, he would put down his weird glowing screwdriver and pass his hand over the odd glass beakers on the back, almost as if checking for a change in them. Jason was left to assume he didn't find what he was looking for, as he would flip the gun and pick up his screwdriver again and repeat the process.

Finally, Jason had had enough. He closed his book and set it aside with an overly loud sigh. Just like he knew it would, his movement drew Danny's attention immediatly. "Okay, I can't stand this anymore." Jason let the exasperation leak into his tone and he stood from his arm chair, only to walk a few feet and flop down next to the teenager.

Danny let out a startled half-chirp, half-wheeze sound that shouldn't be possible for human vocal cords, quickly shoving the gun under the nearest pillow. "W-what do you need?" He asked, clearly trying for casual.

Jason shot him a look, one that conveyed just how much Danny wasn't fooling him. "What I need," Jason began, "Is for you to tell me what the Hell is going on with you. You've been acting off since yesterday, and I want to know why."

"Nothing is going on!" The teen answers, a little too quickly. He looked away from Jason, his eyes going his hands. It was way too obvious that he was lying. 'We definatly have to work on that,' Jason couldn't help but think, frowning at him.

Sitting up, Jason sighed. "Yeah, alright. The thing is, you see, when you look away like that, it makes it kinda obvious that you're lying to me." The teen jerked his gaze back to Jason's immediatly, swallowing hard as he met the deceptivally relaxed facade that the man wore. "Now that I have your attention, lets try this again. What happened between yesterday morning and now that has you so..." He trailed off as he tried to think of the word to descripe the teen. "...Paranoid?"

Danny seemed to hesitate, guilt shining through his unnaturally blue eyes. "I-" He stopped, as if searching for the words. Sighing, he seemed to deflate in defeat. "I've been lying about something." He admitted, his voice quiet.

Caution rose steadily in Jason. "Lied about what?" Had he lied about his feelings? Or maybe the potion? Was this about the 'cure' they seemed to have? Or maybe the original Love Potion? Jason's mind ran wild with thoughts and theories. "Is it something to do with you and Da- I mean, Robin?"

The teen seemed to sense the double meaning to the seemingly innocent words. "No!" He shook his head frantically. "No, no no! Nothing like that, I promise!" His assurences, despite the desperation in how he expressed them, seemed genuine enough.

A small sigh of relief escaped him as he nodded at the teen. "Okay, not to do with that. Then, what is it?" His suspision fell back to the gun, stashed not even a foot from him. "Does it have to do with that?" He gestured to the weapon, where it barely peeked out from the cushion.

The halfa's flinch was all the comformation he needed. "Y-yeah." He mumbled, his head dropping in shame.

"Is there something wrong with it?" God, Jason hoped not. The kid was the only one who seemed to understand how it functioned. Heck the only person that Jason could think of that might be able to help would be Tim, and that was if he didn't have an anrism at the spare parts that were used to make the damned thing.

"No, there's nothing wrong with it." Danny chuckled sheepishly as he reassured the man, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. "The opposite, actually. It's, um..." His other hand came up in a slighly aborted gesture. "It's fixed. Tada?"

Relief that he didn't have to try and understand whatever rocket science went into that abomnible creation temperarily stopped him from realising the full impact of the teen's words. "It's...fixed?" The teen nodded, not looking at him. "Like, fully functional and ready to use?"

"Well..." Danny's hand fell from his neck as his other came up in a so-so gesture. "It's functional, but it can't be used yet." Finally, the teen's head came up, though he still refused to look Jason in the eye. "It has no energy to function yet, so it's in power-collection mode, I guess." Turning slightly, the halfa pulls the gun from under the pillow, handing it to Jason for a closer inspection.

"So, it's fixed, but you can't use it yet?" He turned the gun this way and that, examining the Sci-fy weapon for anything odd. Well, odd-er than a gun that's soul purpose was to shoot a hole in the fabric of space and time.

"Nope. It's basically like a toy without it's batteries. It's cool, and fun to goof off with, but it doesn't do any of the things it's supposed to." His fingers grazed over the glass tubes on the back. "It'll take a few days for it to absorb the needed ecto for us to get home, so it's basically just a waiting game." As he spoke, a slight green sheen formed along the glass's surface, seemingly following the motion of his hand. When Danny pulled his hand back, the glow faded, but didn't disappear.

Satisfied, Jason handed the gun back to the teen. "Okay, so it's fixed. Why does that have you acting all weird?" It didn't make much sense. The whole reason they came here, to one of his more secret safehouses, was so that Danny could fix his gun. Why would he try and hide the fact that it was done, charging up and safe to use?

Obviously, Danny thought the answer was more than obvious. "Your serious?" He asked, his face screaming his disbelief. "You can't think of the one reason I wouldn't want to tell everyone?" When Jason shook his head, Danny let out a shocked giggle. It faded a bit into a whine of distress, making Jason eye the kid worriedly.

Before he could try and comfort the kid, as awkward and stilted as it would be, he spoke up. "If mine and Jazz's way home is ready to go, then what excuse do I have to stay?" The words were whispered, and wouldn't have been audible if Jason hadn't been right beside him.

The words struck him like a wooden plank to the head. Of course, how dumb could he be? Of course the kid would see it like that, like the only reason he was there to begin with was because he had no way home. To suddenly have a way home again? Why would he stay? He had no reason for remaining in this dimension. No reason, other than the fact that he was falling in love. But someone like the kid, like Danny, wouldn't see it that way. Especially if he still thought that Damien's feelings were purely caused by that potion.

Jason bit back a curse. Shook his head. Now was not the time to figure out the thought process the teen had gone through. Not when he was actively curling in on himself. Jason got the feeling that the kid hadn't really processed what completing the gun meant either. He knew what it meant, obviously, but it hadn't sunken in until his hand had been forced. Until he'd had to say the words out loud. The look of desperation and despair and acceptance on his face was heartwrentching to look at.

"Y'know, you don't necessarily have to have a reason to stay." Jason pointed out, speaking in a hushed voice.

"What do you mean? Of course I have to have a reason!" Danny turned to look at Jason again. "If I don't have a reason, that means I have to leave. I have responsibilities, a home, a life! I can't just up and disappear without having some sort of excuse for it! People would be worried, or want to know where I was!"

And that was the root of the problem, Jason realized suddenly. It wasn't that Danny thought he needed a reason to stay, it was that he needed to justify his absence to others. "Danny," without meaning to, Jason's voice softened, something that ususally only happened when comforting small alley children. "You don't have to justify yourself to anyone. If you want to stay longer, then you can. No one would blame you for it, and if they did, then they shouldn't be important to you anyways."

Danny huffed out a laugh. "I know that," He admitted. "I know I don't have to have a reason. But it just feels..." His words tapered off as he tried to think of what to say. Groaning, he burried his face in his hands.

"It feels wrong, because you think it's selfish."

"Well, yeah. It is selfish, isn't it? Because first I was staying because I didn't have a way home, and then it was because Robin needed my help with the potion's effects. But the cure is done and ready for Robin to take, and I have my way home charging up as we speak. The next step should be to just... go home." His hand rested on his chest, gripping tightly at his shirt. "But it, it hurts to even think of leaving. The thought of leaving Robin behind, or Robin taking the cure and me being right? It makes my core ache."

Jason could tell the teen wasn't really paying attention to just what he was admitting. The confusion on his face as he basically poured his heart out, the way he clutched at his chest as if the pain he felt was phyiscally effecting him. It took everything Jason had not to smile as he realized just how far the teen had fallen for his demon of a younger brother.

'It's like he came straight out of a Young Adult romance novel.' The thought, while true, was not helpful in the moment. Instead of bemoaning that his younger brother got to live the fantasy, he tried to think about what would get through to the kid.

Jason wasn't the best at comforting people in dire situations, he was basically flying blind here. Talking out feelings was not any of his families strong suits. But listening to this scrawny adoption bait practically wax poetica about his little brother, the one everyone was sure would either end up filling the mansion with cats, or marrying Jon, because of poor social skills(a distinct lack of interest in pointless civilian matters), made him search through all his people skills for the right thing to say.

"You know, you don't have to stay gone." That was part of the problem, right? Danny didn't want to leave Damian and never see him again.

"...what?" The confusion broke through the heartbreaking agony that the kid had been wallowing in.

"Yeah, you've got that gun fixed, at least enough to get back home. What's stopping you from coming back?" The panic and pain faded from the kid's face for a moment, before returning.

"But what if I'm right, and the potion works? Would Robin even still want to see me again?" The teen pulled his knees to his chest, tucking his feet beneath him and burying his face in his knees. "I know that after the love spell that made me fall in love with Sa- I mean, one of my friends, things were super akward between us. Would he still want to hang out around me?" If the kid didn't have density shifting powers, then Jason would be sure he coulnd't shove his face any further into his knees. He winced in sympathy, knowing that the kid would feel the imprints of his jeans later.

"Well, that sounds like a lot of 'What if's' again, kid." He decided that he'd question that 'Love Spell' bit later. Right now, he had to pull this kid's head out of his own doubts. "And we did talk about that already, didn't we?" Danny made a relunctant sound of agreement. "Right. So what changed? What made that conversation fly out of your head?"

"..." Danny was silent, his chest barely rising as Jason waited for an answer. Finally, a noise barely above a whisper, so quiet that Jason almost missed it. "I don't know."

"You... don't know what brought on all these thoughts?" The man tried to gently press the teen to think about it more. "There must have been something that made you spiral, right? It's not just about Robin not wanting to be around you, is it?" Danny hesitantly lifted his head, side eyeing Jason as he continued to prod. "And it can't be because your scared of what people would think of you. No offence, but you seem more of the 'doing things regardless' type."

"...well, I did mention that thing about my core, right?" The teen brought up hesitantly.

"Yeah, you did." Jason remembered. "The way you talked about it, you made it sound like it was your heart or something."

Danny laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that." The teen sighed, uncurling slightly. "Okay, so to just call a core a heart is a massive understatement. A core is... like a heart and a brain and an immune system and a filter all in one." Jason couldn't help but blink blankly at the teen, his brain trying to process the amalgamation of words that he used to describe whatever a 'core' was.

When he felt like he had a handle on it, he nodded for the teen to continue. "So, cores do all these things for ghosts that the human body does for normal people. It's super important, and if anything happens to the core, it can hurt or even destabilize a ghost, which is basically like a more painful second death, one where you fade from the world instead of existing as a different entity." Jason nodded, focusing more on the core thing than the teen infront of him hinting at dying at some point.

"But it's not just physical injuries you have to look out for. Ghosts are emotional beings. My parents think that ghosts are just emotions imprinted on ectoplasm, not thinking or feeling being. They only got one thing right in all of that." The agony had faded from the teen's face finally, and in it's place, an intense focus as he tried to explain. Jason was counting it as a temporary win.

"So ghost are made of emotion?" It was the only thing that could make sense out of all of that, if only one part was right.

Danny snapped his finger and pointed at the man. "Got it in one. Ghosts are born from ectoplasm rich areas and an intense emotional output upon death. Smaller, less sentient ghosts that are born from emotions imprinting on ectoplasm without a death are blob ghosts."

"Blob ghosts?" Jason asked.

"They have a more technical name that Frostbite uses, but I usually just call the blob ghosts. 'Cause they're litteral blobs with faces that float around. They actually have an important job, keeping ectoplasm from getting stale or too thin in places close to portals and such..." The halfa physically shook his head, black hair fluffing up in a small cloud before settling messily again. "That's something I'll get into later. I was talking about cores."

"Right. Cores, something about... emotions?" The man leaned forwards a bit, resting his elbow on his knee as he reminded the teen where he had diverged from the original topic.

"Oh! Thanks. So, ghosts are made partially from emotion. We have obsession, things that we liked in life, or bring forth a particullarly strong emotional responce. Like, I have two, a main one and a passive one. Both are really good at bringing up emotions like contenment and excitment, which helps to generate ectoplasm and feeds my core. Because I'm half human, I don't have to rely on just my obsessions or the 'Zone to keep my core running. But just as much as emotions feed ghosts, the wrong emotion can hurt them. Things like rejection have to be handled delicatly, or you risk a core cracking. And ghosts being emotional being, we tend to get... attached, pretty easily. Even when we try not to." The kid let out a bitter laugh, running his hand through his hair.

"Wow. That's, uh. Definatly a lot to take in." Jason leaned away from the teen a bit. "Okay, so we should probably do a 'Ghosts 101' sometime. But for now..." Jason sorted through all the information he had just been given, internally thanking his bat training as he did. "So bad emotions hurt you, and things that bring up strong bad emotions can hurt you just as much as a physical injury?"

"If not more so, in some cases." Danny nodded. "Actually, emotional hurt is way worse than any physical injury. We can litterally lose limbs and regrow them in a day or so."

"I'm... gonna think about that later." Jason steered the conversation back on track. "Anyway, negative emotions are bad for ghosts. And you tried not to get attached, right? So you wouldn't hurt when you had to leave?"

"Lot of good that did me!" Danny huffed, crossing his arms.

"So when you think about leaving... oh. Oh." That made a lot more sense. "Huh."

"Yeah," Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't really register it until a few hours ago. I thought that it wouldn't be as bad with me, because of my, ah, unique situation." He gestured to himself vaguely. "But it appears that still being mostly alive does not exclude me from the side effects of emotional attachment." The way he said those last two words made Jason's lips tip up at the corners.

"So leaving would physically hurt you?" Jason clarified the true situation at hand. Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but let his shoulders droop in defeat as he nodded.

"Leaving without knowing if the emotional bond is truly broken or not would be like slowly being poisoned, especially if I never saw him again. And having the bond break quickly would be like breaking a bone." The teen grimaced, rubbing his hand over his chest again, as if he could feel the sensation. Knowing what he does now, it honestly wouldn't surprise Jason one bit.

"Well, what if you left before he took the cure?" Jason didn't know where the thought came from, but it made the teen pause and think again. "You could leave knowing the bond is mutual, and come back later when your more prepared for a negative reaction. Would that work?"

Danny considered it for a minute before hesitantly nodding. "I...guess that would work? At the very least, I could talk to Frostbite about it. If anyone knows how to safely break an emotional bond, or at least prepare for one to break, it would be him." Danny's face screwed up in a mixture of very identifiable emotions as he spoke.

"Hey, chin up." He gently bopped the teen's head, grinning at the indignant look he was faced with. "It would be good to talk to this Frostbite person, whoever that is, and be ready for if it happens. But," he looked Danny directly in the eyes, "that doesn't mean you have to focus on the bad outcome. Robin could be right, and he might keep his feelings, or he might not be in love with you, but still want to be friends." The halfa didn't look totally convinced, but he nodded anyways.

Jason sighed, leaning back into the couch. This was the best he could do on that front for the time being. Deciding to drop the topic for now, the man changed subjects. "You know that you'll have to tell Robin and your sister about the gun, right?"

Danny flinched slightly, but nodded. "Yeah, I know. I had planned on telling them...eventually..." He ducked his head again, this time out of embarrassment. Jason cracked a grin before forcing his expression back to a serious one.

"Well, I won't say anything." The teen perked up, a look of disbelief on his face. "But you need to tell them. Perferably sometime soon." He gave the teen a pointed look as he finally stood up, stretching as he turned towards the kitchen. "The other two should be back soon, so I'm going to get started on dinner. How do you feel about spagetti?"

----

Dick stared in horror at the mess that had been made in Alfred's kitchen. The man had gone out shopping randomly, stating that he had run out of some ingrediant or another that he needed for dinner that night. Barely thirty minutes later, and there were bowls and mixing utinsles littered over every surface. A pot bubbled threateningly on the stove, steam thick enough that Dick almost mistook it for smoke. And right in the middle of it all, sat Stephanie.

She barely looked up from where she was trying to cut a pineapple, the knife making a sawing motion as it stuttered through the fruit. "Steph?" He asked cautiously, making sure that he stayed firmly out of the kitchen. Alfred was not going to be pleased when he came back and saw this mess, and Dick did not want to be incriminated by setting a single toe into the disaster zone.

"Hey Dick!" She called out happily, not looking away from the mess she was making of the pineapple. "What's up? Did you need something?"

"Uhh, no. I'm alright. But what are you doing?" Wait... "Does Alfred know you're in here?" There was no way Alfred knew she was in here. Practically all of the family, barring Jason and Cass, were banned from the kitchen.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asked, expertly dodging the question.

'It looks like you're making a huge mess.' "Um, I have a good idea. But I might be wrong! So can you tell me what you're doing?" His smile was slightly strained as he tried not to grimace from the smell of burning sugar.

Steph turned around, letting out a startled noise as she moved to remove the bubbling pot from the stove. Turning off the eye, she set it aside on a pot holder, she grabbed a spoon and stirred vigurously before dumping half a cup of what Dick could only assume was milk into the pot. A horrible hissing noise arose, making the man take a step backwards. Steph completely ignored the terrible noise, using a fork this time to whisk the mixture.

Finally, she set the nightmare concoction aside and turned back to her butchered pineapple. "I told you, after I ruined your suit, that I would find a way to make it up to you!" She sent him a smile that in any other situation would be sweet, but now it only doubled the dread building in Dick's stomach.

"So you're trying to... cook for me?" It was hard to call whatever this was cooking, but he wasn't going to rain on the girl's parade. Alfred would probably chew her out once he gets back and sees what she's done to his domain.

"Would you call this cooking?" The qustion was mumbled, low enough that Dick barely heard it. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she smiled a bit wider as she spoke up. "I'm trying my hand at homeade candy! I tried to make you some homeade cereal, but..." Her gaze drifted over to a baking tray covered in black little balls that Dick now knew was supposed to be one of his favorite comfort foods. It was hard to keep the grimace off his face. "When that failed, I decided that caramel sounded like a great alternitive! But the recipe that Alfred had was a bit boring, so I thought, hey, doesn't fruit go good with caramel? I wanted to try apples, but Alfred said we were out. Then I saw the pineapple and thought, hey, that's kind of the same thing, right?"

Oh, she had to be doing this on purpose. Did he do something to set her off here recently? Siding with one of the others over her? A joke that irritated her? A villian that she had to take care of instead? No, nothing like that had happened. So what was it? What did Dick do to piss her off this badly? She didn't even look like she was mad, which was infinitly more terrifying than her being openly hostile.

"Riiight," Dick drawled out, taking a small step backwards as she brought the knife down with more force than necissary. "I'm just gonna... go look for one of my spare suits... they aren't where I left them last..." Slowly, he backed away from the doorway and down the hall, until he was out of sight of anyone that could be watching from the kitchen. Once he was sure that Steph wouldn't be able to see him, he turned and rushed back down the hall.

He had done something to invoke the scarrily petty side of his baby brother's ex, and if he wanted to survive the next few hours with all his hair and a settled stomach, then he needed to call in some backup. Normally, he would try and hide behind Damian, but with his littlest bat MIA, he had his second option avalible to him. "Duuuke! I need your help!"

---

(I know that there are probably spelling errors/grammer mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)

For the amazing person who made this prompt, as well as the lovely people who have been following along!

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