#and they mostly succeed?? like. hello??? i was.... '_'

[offbeat-manga-ships]

TAKANE NO HANA NARA OCHITEKOI!! ( 高嶺の花なら落ちてこい!! )

Lofty Flower, Fall for Me!! / Natsume Ayano

Complete, with 72 chapters / 8 volumes

F/M; Shounen, Comedy, Romance + dom f, role rev, role rev stops

SUMMARY: Kouta Shirashi is both handsome and smart. As the prince of the school, there should be no girl who can resist his charms, even if it's the cool beauty Kaori Kurokawa. But what happens when it turns out Kurokawa is even better at playing a prince than he is? Just who exactly is supposed to be falling for whom??

MAL score: 7.40 AL mean score: 71% MU average: 7.9

PERSONAL SCORE: 4 out of 10

[amermaidsecretdiary]

I'M QUITTING + MY VOID STATE SUCCESS STORY

Hello guys, it's been a long time since i have posted something or in general be active here which was mostly because of personal reasons (just focusing on myself), although one of them had to do with our community.

I personally joined loatumblr at the middle of 2022 (from a previous anonymous account i had) but i started posting much later. Back then, the community was at it's peak ngl. The bloggers and the way they explained stuff was honestly, at least for me, so helpful and enjoyable. After the end of 2023 - beginning of 2024 this community started dying. I really didn't like this since I loved scrolling through specific blogs and reading their posts. I tried to post some stuff to give a little bit of life in there and i guess it did help a little.

Quick note; Please don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the current posts and blogs running right now suck.. what i'm saying is that this community used to be way more alive back then.

One of the reasons why this happened is because people applied and got what they wanted. So they logged off tumblr. When I realised that, I decided to seriously focus on loa and start applying myself. And i ended up manifesting some good stuff, and I was good with it. Although, after some time, i decided that i wanted to manifest a completely new life from scratch, which it was what i wanted to do from the first time i joined tumblr but i ditched that thought and ended up changing some stuff about my current life.

My goal back then was to enter the void state (which im pretty sure it was 95% of the people in here goal too), but i didn't understand it properly so i couldn't 'enter'. I ended up ditching it and manifested without it. But after some point, i did my research and fully understood the void state or better, pure consciousness. If you go through my blog, you won't see much stuff about pure consciousness because i choose to not talk about it in here. The way it is treated it loatumblr just pisses me off. If you post a void success story, people will immediately run to you and ask you basic stuff like 'how did u do it?' when all the information needed about it is already posted. People tend to see it as something 'huge' and believe they can't succeed in it which is bs. If you do a little bit of research on pure consciousness you will understand how simple it is. Although, even if the 'void state' is seem like something that people overcomplete this doesn't mean that you can not use it. What i'm saying is that there are some people who really dislike the concept of it and will recommend u not to try it. Look, everyone has their different opinions and beliefs but if you want to manifest your dream life in the void state, go ahead. After all, it found you for a reason.

So coming back to my experience, since it was always my 'dream' to manifest my dream life in the void state, i decided to do it now. I'm pretty good at lucid dreaming (i've been lucid dreaming 3 years now) i decided to tap into my pure consciousness during a lucid dream. So i did my usual routine, had a lucid dream in which i closed my eyes and found myself floating in a void. I affirmed that i have lucid dreams everynight and then i got out. I did this 4 days ago, and i have had around 3-4 lucid dreams every single night, without doing any practise at all. Also, i have been scripting my entire dream life and i'm preparing myself to finally experience it. I have decided to make a looottt of big changes but two of them are the 'biggest' for me; numb.1 i will manifest that i will completely forget about my current life (i will also not remember anything about the law, for personal reasons) and numb.2 i will go back in time around 30 years ago (again for personal reasons). I mentioned this to make it clear to you that i won't be able to post my 'success story' after manifesting it, since i will not remember anything about me manifesting stuff and also even if i did, i wouldn't be able to post it since i will not have access to tumblr or current technology in general. So my success story is this one. This days, when i find the right time for me, i will have a lucid dream as usual and tap into my pure consciousness again which from there, i will finally manifest the life of my dreams. So that's my final post you will see from me. I hope you all never give up and get what you want because trust me it's worth it and all this found u for a reason. If you really want it and you stay consistent, then it's all yours. My words can not describe the way i feel right now, knowing that i have my dream life right in front of me and i can just grab it and give it to myself anytime, after this big journey. Goodbye everyone :)

[nipuni]

Hello time to yap about life and media again! 🥰

It's been a month and a half since we fully moved into this new old house and it's been a steep learning curve!! so far we had to learn how to care for a garden and grow fruit, how to deal with extremely humid weather, the mold!! also learning about various repairs, electricity and plumbing, we had a leak that turned one lamp into a waterfall, the rcd keeps tripping every time it rains, had to fix a door in the dark after Nicolas got himself trapped in a room when the handle broke during a power outage, the heating system is an air to water heat pump and it took us ages to figure out how to set it up correctly so we spent weeks wearing 3 layers inside the house, I even fell down the stairs!! I'm not used to having stairs inside the house lmao It's a big adjustment when you've always lived in small apartments in big cities all your adult life, but to be honest we love it!! everything feels like a new quest for us to tackle and it is so much fun figuring it all out as we go, reading technical manuals by candle light, the teamwork of installing and assembling furniture and networks, pruning the trees, celebrating every small mundane accomplishment and new skill learned every night over dinner, I may be corny as hell but it all feels like a privilege and an adventure 😭

Media wise we watched the second season of Arcane! This series never fails to make me fall in love with art again, not that I've ever fallen out but I can't say that the whole AI debacle hasn't been ass for the morale. Aesthetically it is a masterpiece. The character design, the cinematography, the mixed media montages aaaa Seeing the work, the skill and care that was put into every frame reminded me of how important and human the storytelling aspect of art really is. I wonder if we will see a shift to the more story driven or conceptual arts when we look back on this period, but I ramble, back to Arcane. I have mostly praise for it, wonderful characters and very touching relationships. I think our only issues were with the pacing being too slow at the start, every character climbing out of a very low point, and then too fast which made the second half feel a bit rushed. This season also felt a bit more tropey than the first one but still really solid. It remains one of the best animated series ever made and I am so happy to see it succeed in this current environment 😭 It feels like teenagehood condensed into a show, we really enjoyed it. I hope we get a season 3!!

Also there was an update in our David Tennant filmography quest! we watched The Politician's Husband and unsurprisingly we loved it!! It was gripping and the acting was brilliant. It is actually what I was expecting Rivals to be like, I realize 🤔 I think it could have used a 4th episode, felt like it ended too quickly and there was room for more, as if they ran out of time to tie things up so they picked the quickest route. But it was really good!! These miniseries are always so engaging and so short, I need mooreee.

We missed our DT nights!! Nicolas spent the last week hunting for more of David's work for us to watch. We've been hosting family for a few days again last week and on top of work and everything else we had to pause them for a bit. But now we are back to our nightly routine and he's over the moon!! Instant mood boost it's embarrassing lmao both of us falling this hard for this guy is too enabling, he even made his name our guest wifi password, we are besotted 😂

Oh! I also I saw a Veilguard Q&A was happening and read a few replies I saw posted here, and it proved to be a huge mistake! It was a disappointing and truly infuriating read. What even happened during the production of this game lmao How come the average fan seems to have a much better grasp on the lore, characters and plot than the people who made it 😭 There is this gaping disconnect between intent and execution. The way that fans are trying to make sense and give meaning to the complete mess that is the writing in an attempt to salvage and preserve the aspects they loved about it is saddening. I am mentally throwing tomatoes at John Epler as we speak. His answers felt so unserious and baffling at best and offensive and petty at worst. It's been eye opening, I could go on a two hour rant but the more I learn and dwell on it the more bitter I become about it all and I'm already seeing ten year old discourse resurface and people getting weird about it so I'll just ..🚶‍♀️ In my eyes this world and it's characters now belong only to those who love it and lives in my memory 🫡

Anyway, this ended up being at least twice as long as I was planning to make it again 😭 and I still have to catch up with asks aaaa it's been a busy month sorry I'll get to them soon!! Thank you for reading and for the support and for just being here!! I hope you all have a great week 🥺❤️

[fabric-shower-curtain]

By complete accident I somehow have the autopsy scar mod on top of the bhaalist tattoo mod, don’t ask me how they’re both on my durge I have no idea how it happened. But it got me thinking how would the origin characters (+halsin) react/barely react to a lover that is heavily scarred and tattooed? (Set in Act 1)

Read more for the full brainrot

Astarion: The first time Astarion saw your body for himself was when he walked past your tent late at night, through the flaps in the entrance he saw all those scars, he couldn’t tell what had you awake this late in the night, especially mostly naked with your back turned. The vampire simply continued on his way to hunt for the night. He dropped it there, until that is, the second night in the clearing you two spent together. He was lying down leaning his head against his arms as his red eyes stared at your naked body. His eyes flowed down every scar that littered your body, he barely seemed to look at the tattoos but that’s what he asked about first “So, can you translate that one?” - he points to the tattoo across your left arm, lifting up the limb you pull your skin to take a proper look at it. It’s been a while since you properly saw it, because just out of sight enough to make it annoying to stare at. When you tell him Astarion seems content with the information. His fingers drift across the tattoo. It’s a tender moment until the elf’s hand floats toward your neck. His ice cold fingers dancing across the lingering puncture wounds on your neck - “But these are by far my favorite mark on you,” You lean into Astarion’s touch releasing a chuckling sigh before calling him the weirdest flirt you have ever seen.

Gale: He really didn’t mean to go to the river at the same time he truly meant to go two hours early when he said he would, but that tome was particularly interesting - the effects of adrenaline on libido, certainly important for a man so restricted by his netherese orb. But now it was two hours past and he definitely had a musk going on. Taking an extra robe and rag Gale went to the nearby river, only you were there too. Illuminated in moonlight you were bare in front of him. Gale cleared his throat loudly, trying to let you know he was there. What he did not expect was for you to whip around and get out of the water to say hello. He tried his best to only look at your face, he did not succeed. Your skin was glowing with a vei of water cascading down in droplets. Gale’s eyes followed one droplet from your hair, down your neck, across your chest until a certain tattoo caught his eye, infernal script. Trying to keep his focus on the tattoo rather than the flesh its on he asked you if it meant what he thought it did. He was right in fact, and you told him the story behind why you got it, quite the nice tale. The wizard relaxed enough to notice another scar across your soldier “Is that from a magic missile?” He asked without thinking. Nodding in confirmation you turned to show your shoulder blade where the other two missiles struck. As you turned around the coldness of the night hit you like a thunder wave, a massive shiver shook your entire body spraying tiny water droplets around. “Gosh you must be freezing,” - Gale wrapped you in his towel-rag before stressfully ushering you back towards the camp. Once you got back to your tent you realized you left your towel and clothes on a nearby rock, you could return the peeping Tom favor.

Halsin: Halsin adores you long before he ever saw your birthday suit, sure he thought about it, quite a lot, but with his focus deep on the shadow-curse he doesn’t have time to do much other than think about out. But the first time he does see you was far from romantic or sensual. A hook horror had slashed your entire back open when you got to close, and Halsin watched it all happen. Before the beast even hit the ground he was rushing over to you, he didn’t think, he just ripped your armor right off of you to get to the wound. You might have been screaming but his ears were ringing too loud to tell one noise from another. Halsin couldn’t even see where scar ended and fresh cut began, your tattoos were doused in enough blood to make them impossible to see against your skin. The bear of an elf’s hand floated above the wound with the same glowing blue light the hook horror’s body was basking in, thank silvanus he was far enough from the sussur tree for his magic to work. Even with his healing a scar in the same place as the monster's claw marks stayed. Halsin’s druidic skills must be faltering, that’s what he determines at least. Until the next day, you’re healed fully up and about getting ready to leave camp for the day. Halsin calls out your name - “I’m sorry I could not heal you fully, I tried best I could but the scar persists” to his confusion you begin laughing. The scar he’s so upset about has been on you for so long now, and you tell him such. His healing left no scar, in fact he healed you so well an old scar was able to show.

Karlach: The first time she saw you naked you were bathing next to each other after a battle. Even with Dammon’s initial upgrade you can’t touch each other, but you swore to find ways to be intimate without touching, just like this. However you neglected to inform her about what lay under your clothes until now, scars covering you head to toe interlaced with tattoos of varying quality. “Hey Soldier! How come you didn’t tell me before stealing my aesthetic!” You didn’t even register this was the first time exposing yourself in such a way, a brief moment of panic before you burst into a smile. “Come here, let me see them” Karlach makes you twirl around, using the faintest touch of her fingers to pull your arms out and see the tattoos wrapping around them. Her eyes continued to trail down your body, after a gasp she jumped back up to your face - “That burn scar looks like mine!” She said before pulling down her trousers to show you the near identically placed scar on her thigh. But Karlach didn’t ask about the obviously fresher stab scars, she continued to smile at her new discovery but lets the two of you properly bathe for once.

Lae’zel: Even when pinning you against a wall the githyanki warrior wasn’t particularly gentle. It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into tonight, she had said pretty explicitly she seemed carnal pleasure. Somehow Lae’zel was even more assertive in such a scenario than during your adventures. You couldn’t even take your own armor off, she practically ripped it off of you. Your body is exposed to her in an instant, she doesn’t react, her hands go immediately to unlace your trousers and undergarments. The night is enjoyable even as exhausting as it was. Only much later does Lae’zel ever comment on them, and its in a conversation praising you two’s battle prowess “Each scar is a battle fought, a battle won.” You try not to tell her you have at least two scars from dropping the knife while cooking with Gale. She’s sweet in her own way.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart first saw you naked while healing a particularly cruel wound, goblin had snuck up on you and slashed your torso deep. You stabilized yourself quick enough with a healing potion but the wound persisted. After the battle you wandered your way over to Shadowhearts tent, asking for help. She laid you down atop her bedroll, sliding your shirt off as you let yourself relax into the makeshift bed. And then you caught it, Shadowheart’s eyes widened, shit. But she didn’t say anything; she pressed her warm hands towards your open wound as they lit alight with magic. Radiating from your gash the warm feeling washed over you, your eyes closed softly breathing out in relief. Shadowheart quelled her magic, looking over you for a fat moment. You can feel her eyes wandering over you, up and down your chest, down your stomach and across both your arms. The relief of healing has left you now but you’re still too scared to open your eyes. And then a soft hand traced along your largest scar, her fingers were so light it tickled. “I like your tattoos.” The half-elf’s voice was soft, her eyes focused back on your large scar, ���How’d you get that one.” Whether or not you tell the story she’s content, happy to have this extra piece of you in her memory.

Wyll: Poor Wyll just wanted to ask about the plans for tomorrow, but not only did he smack his horns on the skeleton of your tent while entering but you’re also as naked as the day you were born. The man nearly shrieked like he saw a ghost, his entire chest swelled up with his shoulders shooting up and he looked like he just swallowed a frog. Without a word Wyll turned on his heel and left your tent, only after trying to cool his blushing face off did he even process all your markings. Upon the log he sat on he dragged his hand up and down his face trying to process what the hells just happened. And then you exited your tent, completely decent this time. You greeted Wyll and sat beside him wondering what he had barged in about in the first place. But the poor man can’t even look at you. He as calmly as he could gave you the sincerest apology you’ve ever heard. After your acceptance he finally turns to you “So what does that tattoo across your back mean?” You pause for a moment, then explain as best you can. And that conversation continues just like that, he’d ask how you got a certain scar or tattoo and you’d answer him. In return he showed you one particularly nasty scar on his arm from a monster he fought while traversing the sword coast. What may have started as the most embarrassing moment of your partnership ended with you closer than before.

[blue-jisungs]

a laugh for a coffee

# author's note ... not proofread, sorry!!!! also this is based on a tiktok i saw lmao

# setting ... non-idol!haechan, barista!yn, grumpy x sunshine

# warnings ... yns kinda a bitch lmaooo but tbh a mood, i relate ;; swearing

you knew it was an awful idea. every normal person would know. especially a person that values money.

but mark, apparently, is none of those.

standing behind the counter, arms crossed on your chest, you let out a deep sigh. your overly optimistic co-worker just shook his head.

“come on, dude! some smile won’t hurt anyone!” mark whined and looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“you sound like a typical karen right now” you grunted and noticed the first customer glancing at the flier taped to the window. their eyes widened and they rushed inside.

“see! told you it was a brill–”

“hello, how can i help you today?” you cut him off, monotonically greeting the person.

“i saw the flier, so here’s my attempt: knock knock”

you just shot a side eye to mark, who grinned.

the flier that he hung up this morning (supposedly with consent of your boss, but that you’d argue) said ‘make our barista laugh and get a free coffee! :)’

so that’s why, right now, you’re obliged to answer:

“who’s there?”

“interrupting cow” they puffed their chest out. you already felt it in your bones that it’s just a bad joke.

“interrupting c–” you tried to bounce the line back, as the joke usually goes but…

“MOO!” they mooed.

they mooed.

mark started laughing and they send him finger guns. you remained unbothered, tapping your fingers against the counter. the customer scoffed and pulled out their wallet.

“you’re a tough one, huh? i’ll just get an espresso then” they smiled and you nodded, taking the order.

“come on, dude. that was good!” mark shook his head and you went to the coffee machine, ignoring him.

you were known to be the grumpy person, quite everywhere. whether it was your class, friend group, work environment or family. but that was your attitude, and it wasn’t even all the time. you just saved your words, not caring about bullshit. besides, it was mostly towards strangers. when you opened up to mark, he later revealed that he thought something possessed you. but not everyone has to be nice to strangers and fake laugh at their terrible jokes.

mark seemed not to understand that, though, and made it his goal for today to witness that happening.

you knew he won’t succeed. it would take a really good joke or a child falling to make you smile… not to mention laughing. especially at work, when you just want to get your shit done and money earned. if you wanted to have a job that’s just for shits and giggles, you’d work in entertainment.

“oh no, not me. her. yah, y/n, come here! there’s another joke for you!”

sighing deeply, you turned on your heel.

this is going to be a horrendous day.

you were expecting the end of your shift like a small kid expects christmas. minutes were running painfully slow, hours - even slower. it felt like an extremely boring class, when you close your eyes for ten minutes but it turns out it wasn’t even a full minute.

that’s how you felt; dreadful jokes one after another. at some point you just decided to zone out, planning your tomorrow day off. your mind just fished out the orders and isolated the awful puns.

“yo, dude! hi!” mark’s voice boomed in your ear sickeningly loudly (well, maybe because he was standing right next to you).

focused on making a cappuccino (who even orders those at 7pm?), the smell of freshly grounded coffee making you wonder if you should go cafe hopping tomorrow. carefully angling the pearl white cup, you poured the milk foam from above. when the cup was ⅔ full, you lowered the pitcher with milk as close as possible and reflexively wiggled the vessel gently to create a flowery pattern. then at the end, you flattened the cup and finished the milky masterpiece with a swift move.

“it’s amazing how she does that with no emotions on her face whatsoever”

“because i’m at work, you fuck–” you wanted to growl but your eyes shot up, meeting with a new customer “oops”

the guy giggled and shook his head.

you placed the beverage on the tray, next to a warm croissant with chocolate and mark grabbed it. leaving the space to deliver the order, you stepped to the cash desk again.

“can i take your order?” your voice was cold.

maybe it wasn’t the best approach for work but you couldn’t help it. especially today.

glancing at the customer, you realized it’s one of (many) mark’s friends. his brown hair was fluffy and loosely falling on his forehead, cutely matching with the beige hoodie he had on–

stop.

“what’s up with the flier thing? even mark texted me…” he started but was cut off by the canadian himself.

“haechan, finally! how are you?” his voice was a bit panicked, rushingly coming up to you.

haechan, that’s the name. or nickname? you’re pretty sure you heard mark call him donghyuck before. maybe it’s an inside joke?

“good, actually. i wanted to grab some coffee because i’ll probably pull an all nighter today” he explained and his curious doppio colored eyes scanned you. with the corner of his lips turning upwards, he thought of something “actually, you know… i’m a student and…”

your body language spoke louder than words because he pivoted and said something else.

“whatever. but truth be told, i looked up tips on how to make a girl smile. some were really creepy, dude. ‘tickle her’ or ‘make a silly dance’? like, what kind of loser came up with those? even worse, what kind of loser would do those?” he smiled to himself. that was true - he went through quora and other wikihows. if his plan - which was mostly just yapping - didn’t work out, he planned to do a silly dance. ‘chicken dance’ was what one of the sites proposed.

“i think you forgot to mention the kind of losers who even look up such tips in the first place” you huffed and mark’s eyes widened. that’s the first reaction someone managed to pull out from you throughout today. haechan saw his friend’s face and took it as a sign. “speaking of tips, you better hurry up if you want to have a coffee. there’s other customers in the line. by the way, mark why are you still here?”

“i, uh! sorry!” your coworker yelped and rushed to the other cash desk to serve other customers.

“so?” you cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

“i bet you heard an awful lot of bad jokes, huh?” he asked, poking the inside of his cheek. mark was listening, somehow managing to also listen to the last customers’ orders.

“yup”

“shit, that was my plan a” haechan sighed dramatically and looked you in the eye “please don’t make me do the dance…”

the pathetic whine wanted to make you laugh itself. but you saw the pure unwillingness to do the dance… and you would never say no to humiliating a man.

and haechan seemed to notice that too. well, he also heard stories about you from mark.

“do the dance, haechan” you nodded, fighting a smile.

he let out a sigh, eyes locking with yours. there was a glint of amusement dancing in his americano-colored irises.

slowly shifting away, he started to awkwardly do the chicken dance. eyeing mark and you, pure agony on his face. it was just like a torture for both of you, really. but you noticed he was different than others and you finally cracked it out: he didn’t want to get a free coffee. he just wanted to make you laugh.

which he did.

with a loud snort, you shook your head.

“okay, you can stop. my eyes are gonna fall out…” you laughed at, well, the mix of events. him doing the dance, the desperation in his eyes and just the overall craziness of this day.

“no way dude, no way” mark laughed maniacally, the other customers’ looks judging the three of you.

haechan nonchalantly fixed his hair, as if nothing happened. then, he leaned against the counter.

“y’know what?” you asked, poking the inside of your cheek while smiling. “sit your ass down, i’ll bring you a coffee and something else. americano, i assume?”

haechan nodded and when you turned around to prepare his beverage, mark exchanged a shocked look with his friend.

you prepared a large iced americano and a cinnamon roll. on top of that, you wrote down your number on a napkin. maybe you’ll regret it, maybe not.

upon delivering it to him, the clock striked 9pm and mark told you to go, and as an apology for putting you through the torture today he said he’ll close up.

so when haechan discovered the phone number (of a girl he’s been crushing on for a month) on a napkin, you were already gone.

“told you that a funny guy–” mark started, leaning on a broom.

“shut up, man” haechan grinned, already saving your phone number.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Eternal flame of the heart

Rollo Flamme x reader because it's Glorious Masquerade season!!

Tbh I wasn't even planning on writing this but the idea just hit me out of nowhere so what was I supposed to do?

Warning(s): fainting/unconsciousness, Rollo is a bit of a creep, drugging, this is a short one but I still hope you like it!

Slight disclaimer: I'm very sorry if I mischaraterise Rollo, it has been a while since I actually read through the event, and I have not had time to reread it. As well as this, I'm sorry if I have forgotten or misremembered any important details of the Glorious Masquerade story. Okay, that's all, enjoy!

You climbed the bell tower, you made it through all the firelotuses... everyone has sacrificed for you to get here... everyone is counting on you.

Malleus, Idia, Azul, and you have made it successfully to the top floor, but... but then... then... something goes wrong.

Everyone... everyone except for you and Rollo just collapse... and now, you are alone with him.

You are alone with him.

What do you do.

"Hello, (Y/N)." Rollo greets you simply. You start to panic and grab a small, stray plank of wood off the floor, intending to attack him with it. You don't have magic, so this is the best self-defense you have right now... "Ah, there's no need for that. Put it down."

"Y-you don't tell me what to do." You try your hardest to stay confident, fully intending to whack him with the wood plank.

"You don't truly intend on hurting me, do you?" He smirks at you... so uncomfortable to look at. "Of course you don't. How would you expect yourself, a magicless human with no knowledge of this world, to get rid of all the firelotuses?"

"QUIET!!" You yell, preparing to swing the plank. "You... you, get rid of the flowers! All of them! Now! Y-you're the cause of this, so... you must know how to get rid of them!"

He moves so quick, it's almost like he glides across the floor...

"You are magicless. You are..." He leans in close to you, and whispers in you ear, "beautiful."

You were about to h him with your wood plank, but it very suddenly lit on fire?! You dropped the wood as it burnt your hand and Rollo stomped out the flame, leaning even closer to you... damn it, you should really pick that up again when he gives you the chance.

"So different from everyone else... so... pure..." He takes a deep breath before whispering to you again. "Your hair smells so wonderful."

You push him away from you, disgusted.

"What is wrong with you?! Why the hell would you do something like this, you... DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS WILL DO TO YOUR WORL-!?"

As you begin to yell, something is forced onto your mouth and nose... hang on... wait... what's happening...

"This is known mostly as poor man's sleeping poison, at least here, though I prefer to use the proper name for it." Rollo grabs you by the back of the head as well, in order to keep you from just avoiding what he does to you. That's not to say you don't struggle, you absolutely do, it's just that it doesn't do much for you... "That proper name of course being chloroform."

...shit...

"You'll be okay. The firelotuses won't hurt you. I won't hurt you."

...everything is starting to go dark...

"I'll put you somewhere nobody will find you. You won't have to deal with the troubles of this world, well, not that you would have had to anyways after I succeed."

...

"Good night."

[roboenthuser]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request some fluffy relationship headcanons of Billy Kid with a shy GN reader please?

YEAHH! I gotcha anon, thanks for the request🫂

(ZZZ) Billy kid x shy GN! Reader

‼️This is going purely off the few character trailers and gameplay clips there are for Billy so I may not get everything right!‼️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Billy would love to show off to a shy s/o any chance he gets! He thinks it makes him look cooler to you (he ends up forgetting to reload and jumps into fights without ammo, or misses all his shots because he’s too busy looking at you LMAO)

•LOVES to show you off (much to your dismay) in more of a “Look at my s/o! Aren’t they so pretty/handsome!” Way. Definitely tries to build up your confidence a bit but he won’t force it

•Date nights with him would probably consist mostly of cuddling up on the couch/bed, binging shows (mostly starlight knight) at each others homes or going to eat in a secluded part of the city.

•Billy is DEFINITELY going to struggle picking up on behavioral cues from you, he may not be able to tell straight away when something’s wrong so communication is extremely important for him! You’d have to speak up about any issues you have with him or he’s gonna be clueless until it hits him in the face.

•As for physical affection, he LOVES holding you/having some sort of physical contact with you most of the time. Whether it’s a hug, hand holding, cuddling, as long as he’s close to you he’s content. He’s a bit down about his lack of lips in a relationship which means he can’t really kiss you, but alternatively he’ll (gently) touch the lower part of his faceplate/visor to your skin in his own little form of kissing<3

•If you’re not comfortable with PDA that’s okay!!! He respects that, but every once in a while he’ll lightly brush his hand against yours when no one’s looking

•THE TEASING!! He will tease you a bit for your shyness (playfully ofc) if he ever goes too far with his teasing he’s quick to apologize and bring you your favorite snacks/drink :)

•Most likely introduces you to Nicole and Anby, although he probably doesn’t want you too involved in his line of work he would like it if his two best friends met his s/o, he’d be especially happy if you ended up befriending them!

•If you ask nicely he’ll let you borrow his jacket, only for a little while though 💔

•I feel like nicknames would be a big thing for him too, Both for you and himself! His names for you would be cutie, handsome/beautiful, sweetheart, and baby, whereas for himself he would refer to himself as your “Starlight knight”

•Tries to be a gentleman (fails)

Pulling your chair out for you? Whoops he pulled it too far and you fell on the floor.

Need help carrying something? He fumbles and drops it.

He tries!! Doesn’t always succeed but he definitely tries his best!

•Overall a great partner with a shy s/o, he’s definitely not perfect but he’ll learn! You’ll have to help him out but he gets the hang of how to adapt to your shyness eventually❤️

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RAHH!! Hope that was alright for a first HC post, once again thanks for the request anon! Reminder to everyone my request listing and rules are still open, I’ll try to get to everyone’s requests asap! Hope everyone has a lovely day/night!🫶

[ckret2]

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!!)

[solar-serpent]

Which one of your gifts can help you to manifest the life you want?🪄

Hello! I haven't posted a PAC in ages, so I am excited to share something different from the fs/so readings you can mostly find in my blog. Let's focus on you✨ and how special you are!🤗

I want my gals to be rich (or at least comfortable) and impediment💅🏻 so pick a witch and get to know the peak of your potential!

Pile I → Pila II

Pile III → Pile IV

🗝️Pile I🗝️

Conviction is your greatest gift. You can manifest any material thing thanks to your steadiness and stubbornness. You don’t need any sort of validation to keep pushing forward, you already believe in yourself and the extent of your power. You have a strong sense of ownership as you are willing to fight and defend what is yours. You are a creative person with clear and solid ideas. The only thing that seems to disturb you at times is your fear of failure or the intrusive thought you have accomplished almost nothing in life. You have the archetypes of the worker and the architect. Your special gift is the one of building, your love for creation will drive you to manifest beautiful and unexpected things.

Hi! I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here.

🗝️Pile II🗝️

Your intuition is more powerful than you think. You can get in tune with the collective unconscious and predict the next trend that will be born. You started wearing lolita shoes and gothic accessories, and then everyone was wearing them three weeks later? It's not a coincidence, honey. You will walk into a room full of people, pick on the energies steering on the air and quickly deduce what's going on with each present group, right? Nothing escapes that third eye. Be quick and a real pioneer. You have the ability to leave everyone’s jaw dropped! Sometimes you can doubt yourself and overestimate your own gifts. You have the archetypes of the planner and the artist. You are ready to embrace success.

Hi! I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here.

🗝️Pile III🗝️

Is it a gift or a life mission? You do not and will never lack material resources. Very often you find yourself in a situation where you have to make a decision involving the following questions: “what will you do with your resources? How can you receive more profit from them? Will you manifest something exclusively for you or for your community? Your archetype is the opulent. You can manifest things on a large scale, as well as employment for others. You are born a leader, altruistic in nature, the defender of your people or land. Others need your services, so one position will always open up for you wherever you go.

Hi! I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here.

🗝️Pile IV🗝️

Your cleverness has led you to countless achievements. You have the soldier archetype! Your outlook on life is very simple and can be summarized like this: challenges, victories and defeats. You are tough, reckless and sometimes you believe yourself invincible. You will rise gracefully from difficult situations and finish the most complicated tasks to everyone’s surprise. You possess great strength, you are willing to ignore the shame of defeat or the pain coming from an injury to embark on your next adventure. When an idea has been set in your mind, you’ll turn restless until you succeed on manifesting it. Passions, love, the wish to impress someone can lead you to manifest with more intensity. Your life purpose is meting victory, you are not necessarily over-ambitious.

Hi! I hope this reading was to your liking♡. I'm offering paid readings about this topic here.

[senawashere]

We're on this together... (Chapter II)

Bradley Bradshaw × fem!wife!reader

Summary: Is it harder for you? Or for Bradley?

Warnings: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

'We are on this journey together and we will never separate. I love you."

January 3, 2023.

Everyone,mostly you, could see how much Bradley loved childrens. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, it didn't matter, he loved them.

Ever since you married, you had admired how he treated them, how he made them laugh, how they played, and how his eyes lit up at the high-pitched squeals they made when he threw them in the air. He would catch them again. And again.

He... was born just for this.

That's why you were trying so hard to give him what he wanted more than anything in the world; a baby,a kid of yours.

He searches hundreds of websites for you on ways to increase your chances of getting pregnant, checks your ovulation time, changes your diet... he does the impossible and you both still can't succeed.

You couldn't make your husband happy. He hated this sentence.

And the worst part is, he's not the only one waiting for you to have his child, everyone is doing it, all of your friends are having their second or third kids and you were still... not pregnant.

One day, you were criticized among your friends for not having a flat stomach. They said something as a joke that you might be pregnant, but it wasn't like that.

Just because you dont have a flat belly doesn't mean you're pregnant, right?

Your tears feel familiar on your skin now and when you were sure Bradley is gone you were crying all over the house, you couldn't let him see you like this, it's not fair when he gave you everything and you couldn't give him something so simple.

It's that simple. Right?

You don't want help, you can do it on your own, you know he can or so he thinks, he keeps busy every day trying not to think about it, but it's inevitable, you can't do that when it's something he wants so badly.

You were doing your usual work on laptop, trying to get rid of the thoughts in your head, even if only a little, you were scrolling through your e-mail box while slow jazz was playing in the background, writing down what you needed to write and dealing with the files you needed to handle.

"A young man fell into the base today! We walked around the hard deck and drank soda's. He was with for a while we had a lot of fun, but I think he misses his aunt y/n. I love you baby.💞"

The text came up with a picture of your husband with Jake's son, three of them smiling and Bradley holding some soda cans in his left arm and the right one is holding the boy's shoulder. It was beautiful and made your heart ache, a small smile appeared on your face,the voices and pain in your head seemed to be over, at least for a mimute, and you replied to the message, "I love you two!! Say hello to Jake for me.💓💓"

You stared at the picture for a few seconds, forgetting about the task in front of you.

The smile on Bradley's face was genuine, and he was holding the little boy with incredible familiarity, as if he already knew how to hold a child even though it wasn't his own.

Your phone hit the wooden table with a loud thud and you brought your hands up to your face, feeling tears of frustration falling from your eyes.

No, you were not jealous of them, in fact, you were very happy that they were pregnant with the third one, but why couldn't you?

This was unfair.

While God gave people the chance to have so many children, why couldn't you even have one?

And the saddest problem was,you.

Bradley was perfectly healthy, he could get a different woman pregnant, but he couldn't get you.

The house was quiet, unlike your head, thousands of things were going on every second.

You left your spot and went upstairs to take another pregnancy test with some hope.

It came out negative. Like always.

January 18, 2023.

You throw the four pregnancy tests you took ten minutes ago into the trash can and you hear Bradley sigh as he sits on the bed, hiding his face with his hands. You sit next to him.

“We just have to try harder.” He said, lifting his head to look at you and placing his hand comfortably on your knee.

“What does 'trying harder' mean?” you asked,with a hint of you wobble voice from the emotions. "We do this every day, especially when I'm ovulating, when I..."

"Baby, calm down." Bradley tells you and he just snorts in annoyance.

"Maybe...we could go to another doctor?" He gets down on one knee as if he's proposing, but you stand up and look at him as if he had three heads.

"Why should I go to the doctor? There is nothing wrong with me, we will have this baby, I know. Sooner or later." you exclaimed.

He stood up and took your hands in his, stroking your wrists.

"Of course we will, I have no doubt about that. But—it's better to know more, you know?"

"We're going to have this baby, Bradley. I am going to."

Uh oh-

I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER BEING SO SHORT😭😭😭 and bad news it is progressively gets more sad.. And there is going to be timeline-

I'm tagging people who might be interested and some mutuals:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @els-marvelvsp @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[nekovmancer]

erm erm hi is it alr if you do Cole Cassidy x socially awkward reader who has a hard time standing up for themselves, had a bit of a weird day and yadda yadda

pls and thank uu ( ´∀｀)

Cole Cassidy with a socially awkward reader

warnings: very light mentions of low self esteem, reader struggling with their issues etc etc but nothing that may be triggering

a/n: hello, anon! I am so sorry to hear you had a bad day. ): I hope things are better now! So- being someone who is socially awkward and just recently got an autism diagnosis that explained EVERYTHING- let’s just say I was really eager to dive into this one and I may be very, very self-indulgent (and descriptive, oopsie). 100% fluff and sfw, but let me know if you want to spice things up!

Relationships never came smoothly for you, mostly because it takes a hard time figuring out how to actually start them and keep things going without tripping on the stones along the way. Yes, you have a few friends, that are enough, and you are in a relationship with an amazing boyfriend… still, you’re not a social butterfly, and sometimes you find yourself struggling with communication, especially in bigger groups; a plus if there are more strangers than acquaintances

On a daily basis, you like to go by your agenda on your own. If it means work or your spare time, your own company is fine, thanks. It’s not like you hate being surrounded by others, but… ok, crowds make you uncomfortable, but apart from that it’s just a personal preference. Alone, you can concentrate, be inside your own world… let your mind lose a bit from self-consciousness and pre-made conversations to assure you’d succeed this time

People would point you out as weird, and you know they’re right: you’re indeed different. It’s hard to be casted out merely for being who you are, and you do try your best to blend in, make small conversation, mimic what everyone else around you did. Still, you could never leave your own skin to be something else

But in Cole’s eyes, that’s exactly what made you special. You see the world through different colors, and spoke with such a burning passion about your interests, an expert over the small details that no one else would care for, that doesn’t matter if he hasn’t a single clue on what that’s about, he will listen to whatever you have to say and follow along as it’s the most amazing subject brought up through all the existence 

“You’ve got such a beautiful brain right there,” during one of your conversations, he would compliment you out of the blue, leaving you speechless as a warm feeling crawls from your neck to your face, spreading through your cheeks. It takes a while for you to absorb his words, in between a few blinks and him sheepishly winking at you. “Don’t know why I’d be surprised. It matches your looks.”

You were astonished to perceive him, a popular figure amongst Overwatch and the whole damn world for sure, was giving you so much attention. On the other hand, you suppose Cole could make small talk of a stone if he wanted to; the cowboy had a charisma bigger than his ego, that’s for sure 

But the little things… they’re enormous in meaning; and his actions speak louder than his words. Cole would always choose to sit by your side and bring up the chit chat, asking about your day or what you had for lunch if he wasn’t there with you; and saints save you if your reply is that you hadn’t eaten yet. He’d show interest, and damn! He even begin to read your favorite trilogy because all you did was speak of it nonstop, so he had to check it out by himself to make sure you have a good taste

His company always made you feel appreciated, something you couldn’t bring up on yourself alone; you enjoyed being on your own, but you didn’t enjoy yourself actually. And by the point the things between you start to get more serious than just long talks going on and on about your shared enthusiasms, you’ve already realized there’s nothing wrong with you, nor the way you speak, less who you are

Finally, you’ve stopped trying to change yourself just because it would please anybody, but you. Communication skills may not be your highlight, but was it all? Of course not. You have so much inside of you that must be cherished, instead of blaming yourself because a single conversation went wrong

But that brutal change failed to reach another significant point. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, no matter what. Usually, you just low your head and… let it be, no matter how harsh are the words you’re listening to or how perfectly fit the arguments you construct in your head are, enough to end the term. But the unspoken is cruel as it is, leaving unfair gaps of what could’ve been if you only had the courage to vocalize the damn words

It’s easier said than done, right? Or better: easier imagined than actually said. Anxiety is an overwhelming feeling that tingles under your skin with the mere thought of taking action, three times worse if you’re under pressure or being scolded for something you did. No matter how much you think of a response, it will die right on the tip of your tongue, and leave your mouth tasting like ashes 

And when all of it hits you, it’s too much. You just seek your comfortable loneliness to let it out. Though, you’re not so lonely now

“Darlin’, the world won’t end if you speak your mind for once,” Cole was your anchor, keeping you from drifting away, and he never failed from being physically reassuring: embracing you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear or even wiping your tears away if you’re stressed enough to let them out. Despite it, he was the very first to encourage you to fight for yourself, pushing you off the limits of your carefully built comfort zone. “I will be there for ya’ anytime, but I’m sure as hell you don’t need me for it.”

Maybe you don’t, and maybe he’s right… but Cole is also warm, and has an incredibly good chest for you to snuggle your face on and just lay there for hours, nonstop; safe as he soothe your sadness away, as if he was simply shooing a fly from the room

Silence will settle, but not for long. Cole holds on your chin, his thumb caressing the skin as he pushes you gently to stare at him. Something in his eyes gets you out of guard, and your heart fails a beat by the sight of his tenderness, pouring through his expression. “Promise something, would ya’?” you can barely blink as he speaks, a hand running up and down your spine until it abruptly stops as you nod for him to keep going. “You’re the most marvelous being I’ve found in this whole world. Never let anyone make you think you’re less than that.”

[kira-fluff]

hello! if its okay with you, i’d like to request fluff/comfort with mikey from tr. i’ve been in a mental slump lately and contrary to the whole “worst boyfriend” ranking, i feel like he’d be great at comfort if we gave him the chance :3

whatever you need - mikey sano x fem!reader

after getting let go, you'd been struggling. thank goodness for boyfriends. (fluff/comfort) tw: language, mental health struggles, getting fired a/n: i hope you've been feeling better as of late. just finished my last exam, i have a presentation tomorrow, but i'm not worried about it. thankfully finals are mostly over so i have time to write! thanks for requesting. i love me some mikey. worst boyfriend slander will not be tolerated!! i gotchu

you couldn't seem to catch a break. just when you thought you were crawling out of this hole you didn't even dig yourself, something (or someone) would push you down further. was there really a way out? nope. clearly not. of course you were fired. well, "let go" as he said. your asshole of a boss sat you in his office and said, "i'm afraid we're gonna have to let you go." like it was this sad, reluctant choice he simply had to make. a sacrifice. but you could tell by his expression he was anything but remorseful. the worst part was that the company was flooded with cash, and you'd not be prideful to say you were a major contributor in that success. so why were you let go? because the business was "expanding" and therefore, there needed to be "reprioritizations" made. which basically just means you weren't worth keeping on board the ship. probably because you're a woman and god forbid any female succeed in the workplace. whatever. fuck him. it was all so overwhelming anyway. your sleep schedule was - is - fucked. all the work you're putting in and was it even worth it?

you ignored the sense of dread pooling in your stomach whenever your eyes happened a glance on your bank app. funds weren't going to be coming in any time soon. sighing, you powered off your phone, chucking it to the side of your bed. before you realized it, a week had passed. a week of productivity? no. a week of bed-rotting. a week of napping, getting up to eat a few crackers, and then trudging back to sleep. it's what you deserved for busting your ass for an ungrateful corporation and an ungrateful piece of shit boss. you just wanted to close your eyes forever and forget about the world for a little bit. was that so wrong? mikey was gone visiting takemichi, so it's not like you needed to try to look cute. just a little longer. just a little longer.

-

you heard a faint thudding sound. you groaned and rolled over on your bed, covers twisted around your form, your hair tangled and knotted. the sound was getting louder. were you getting robbed? eh, what does it matter. it wasn't like you had anything of value in here anyway. covering your ears with your pillow, you burrowed deeper into your blankets, basking in their warmth. thankfully, the thudding noise stopped. it was probably just your dryer, which you're fairly certain is possessed by satan (not that you'd done laundry in... awhile.) your peace was short lived. suddenly, you heard a sound that was suspiciously akin to the bolt of your front door being unlocked. your eyes shot open, but you were too scared to move as you heard your front door burst open. maybe they won't know i'm here if i just lie still. maybe they'll think i'm dead. loud steps made a beeline for your room - a voice getting closer, mumbling something under their breath. if you got up now, the intruder would surely know. throwing the covers over your face, you hoped maybe they'd mistake you as some extremely large body pillow. the thief stopped at the entrance to your room. you held your breath, hoping he'd move on and maybe steal your microwave instead. could this month get any worse? there was an exasperated sigh. "what are you doing." it wasn't a question, more just a statement. and you recognized that voice. shit. what's the date today? the mystery intruder, you realized, was actually your boyfriend mikey. but he sounded kind of pissed. so... you decided to play dead a little longer. the loud thumps of his boots came closer to you and without warning, he ripped the covers off of your body before returning his hands to his pockets. his eyebrow raised in a mix of confusion and perhaps a bit of concern. he repeated, "what are you doing, y/n?" you blinked up at him slowly, your eyes trailing up and down his body. "you look nice. back from takemichi's?" he moved closer. "you weren't answering any of my calls or texts. couldn't even find your location. did you turn off your phone?" your brows furrowed in puzzlement. you looked around your room, realizing it had been at least a couple days since you'd last seen your phone, much less heard from it. you were shocked to find it lying next to you. pressing the power button, you watched the screen ignite back to life. "oh. sorry. turned it off. i was tired." his voice rose in frustration, "for how long? i tried to text you on monday and you didn't answer." you paused. "...what day is it today...?" mikey's eyebrows rose in worry. "it's sunday. i've been trying to get ahold of you for almost a week. y/n, what's going on?" you frowned, biting your lip to stop it from quivering and shook your head. don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

"got fired. yay..." you said with no enthusiasm, your voice breaking at the end of your sentence. he blinked. "what? when?" "last friday. well, last last friday, i guess." his shoulders lowered and he let out a deep sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "shit, i was so worried i sounded like such an asshole just now. 'm sorry babe." slowly, he sat down next to you on your bed, shucking off his boots. "he didn't even give me a good reason. like, they're "expanding"?? doesn't that mean you can afford to keep your most loyal workers??" "i always fuckin' hated that guy." "i just--" you tried (and failed) to hold back a sob, "i just don't know what i could've done differently!" you cried, tears streaking down your cheeks. "it's not a 'you' problem, babe, it's their fucking loss." "but there had to have been something i did wrong!" "there isn't." "maybe i should've--" "hey, look at me. please?" you stopped midsentence, adjusting your gaze to meet his eyes for the first time. cupping your cheek in his palm he smiled sadly, "sometimes it's not you. sometimes there's nothing you coulda done better in a situation because you weren't the problem to begin with. and that's ok, because you don't deserve to be around piece of shit people like that anyway, ya know?" "i know, but--" "but nothing. i know i can't convince you, but i want you to know that i think you deserve the fucking moon. i'd get it for you if you asked. somehow." you laughed wetly, "well, you do have connections." a corner of his mouth turned up. "yeah." his voice was uncharacteristically soft as he pulled a strand of your hair back behind your ear. "and 'm gonna take care of you know, you know that. whatever you want. whatever you need tonight. i'll make it happen, ok?" "it's just... what i need is a job, and i've just been lazing around all week and i don't even know where to start..." without a moments hesitation he said, "work for me." "but wouldn't that be--" "i'm the boss, i make my own rules. shit, you don't even have to work. like i said, i'll take care of you." "no, no i want to work. but i'm probably not qualified enough to work for you..." "who says?" "well, you haven't even looked at my resume...isn't that, i don't know, kind of nepotism-ish?" mikey grinned. "yeah, because everyone else that works for me got their jobs through hard work." "ok, ok, but...thank you. ok." you sighed. "it's gonna be ok. 'm here now."

-

mikey truly meant it when he said he'd take care of you. as soon as he helped dry your tears, he got your into your bathtub and helped you wash up, gently massaging shampoo and conditioner into your scalp while you scrubbed soap on your arms. he sprinkled light kisses on your forehead and cheeks as he helped you dry off. when you finally settled back into bed, cozy and clean, mikey was right there by your side. not ten minutes later, your favorite chocolate and ice cream was delivered to your door. when you turned back to say thank you, he waved you off, gesturing you to come back to your bed so you both could watch a movie. in the best way, mikey helped you forget. or at least let go. in a way. you spend the rest of the weekend binging your favorite shows. what others might not suspect is just how physical mikey is in his affection. he was showed more than told, and it was the same in his love for you. in those moments you spent together, he clung to your side, as if he had to have at least some part of his body touching yours at all times. when at last he had to leave to go back to his penthouse to "make some calls" (you suspected he had mountains of work to do), he'd already tried to convince you at least a dozen times to move in with him, which you staunchly refused because 1) you can't afford to help pay for whatever the hell he pays to live in a fucking penthouse and 2) you're not about to freeload. but as he said his final goodbye with a chaste kiss on your lips, you wondered if maybe you could finally give in and let someone take a little more care of you, after all, he'd shown you just what it felt like to not have to worry so much about your own needs.

-

back at his penthouse, mikey quickly dialed a familiar number. "hey. it's me. yeah. think you can take care of it for me?" there was a pause. "i don't care what you do to him so long as it's painful." another pause. "make sure to keep this underwraps. remember, it's all an 'accident'. if you can't do it, i'll go take care of it myself. bye."

a/n: mmm protective mikey y'all

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a Batfam x teen reader, who does figure skating?

Sure! Figure skating is so cool. Shoutout to figure skaters!

Summary: (Y/N) loves to figure skate.

Warnings: fluff, supportive Batfamily, author is not familiar with the sport that much, but has given it a try.

(Y/N) is the only normal kid in the entire family and the family would support him in anything he does. No matter what he does, Bruce and the others supported him. (Y/N) is the only person who could make them forget the horrors of the things they have faced.

And one thing that (Y/N) did the best is figure skating. He fell in love when Bruce took him to an ice rink for Christmas. Bruce skated right behind (Y/N) and (Y/N) felt a rush of something.

Was it adrenaline? Was it excitement? Whatever it was, it has slowly turned into love.

After that day, (Y/N) begged for Bruce to find him a club to skate in. He wanted to do this and Bruce decided to comply with (Y/N)'s wishes. And the rest was history.

(Y/N) was in love and he will do it for as long as he can. He had hopes of going to Olympic Games, but for now he was happy to compete in his city and just all over USA.

Bruce was more than happy to drop everything as see him live at his competitions. The others were happy too, but school and work were sometimes impossible to miss, but competitions were mostly on the weekends so that is very nice.

And Bruce could see why (Y/N) liked, no, loved the sport. Bruce has made an ice rink in the house for everyone all year round, but (Y/N) used it the most. He trained a lot and he was happy while doing so.

Bruce sometimes watched him train. He was entranced sometimes. The way that (Y/N) would just fly through the air, just glide on ice all ethereal, almost like a ghost.

Sometimes Bruce thought that (Y/N) wasn't human.

Of course, there were downs too. Whenever (Y/N) fell, Bruce would panic a little bit, but wait for (Y/N) to show his reaction to it. If he got upset, Bruce would intervene and jump in.

If he didn't react, then Bruce would stop panicking. (Y/N) was never seriously hurt and for that Bruce was thankful. Very much so. Just now, he is entering the a very prestigious competition and he is going to be damned if he misses it.

Damned.

This is an important competition for (Y/N) and it would mean everything to (Y/N) if they could be there. (Y/N) was excited to go to this competition. He really was.

It is the competition where the best ones go and where there are people who might look for you to compete in the Olympics. Not to mention, this is the best competition to test his mental will.

That is something you need to have. A strong mindset and tough skin. (Y/N) knew that he had it because his dad is Batman and Bruce Wayne.

Bruce made sure that (Y/N) was strong mentally. That was something that (Y/N) needs in this world and that is something that he will need in order to succeed in his sport and life.

Bruce smiled at his eyes glanced at (Y/N)'s photo on his desk at work. Bruce knows that his son will be able to do this.

Today was the day. Bruce and his sons were waiting for (Y/N) to come on ice. They know that (Y/N) has practiced very hard and he didn't want them to see his routine before hand. (Y/N) said that he wanted to surprise them all.

Alrighty then.

Bruce sat up straighter as he heard his son's name being announced. The others did so too and they watched in awe as they glided on the ice, getting into the position to start, waiting for the music to start. Bruce had to admit, he felt a bit nervous.

Now is the chance.

One shot.

And right now, everything is on (Y/N)'s shoulders and if he doesn't win today, that would be okay, but (Y/N) is a competitive person. All of them are in heart and denying it would be stupid.

Bruce watched in awe as (Y/N) started. They way he just started to glide and move... Bruce's breath hitched as (Y/N) jumped before nailing the landing and Bruce clapped.

Every time (Y/N) jumped, Bruce swore that he looked like he was going to fall. (Y/N) said that he shouldn't worry. It's the best part for him and Bruce trusted him enough to say okay.

They all clapped when he nailed the landing and Bruce smiled. Oh his son is doing so well. Damian smiled too, happy to see his brother so happy and just enjoying himself.

He glided and he jumped again and Bruce's heart stopped for a second. He clapped once more as he landed the landing and they watched as he spun and Bruce's eyes slowly watered. Dick was quietly crying and Jason was close to it.

Damian was still holding on with everything in him. But after another set of turns and then he has decided to do something that a rare few have done.

A quadruple Axel.

(Y/N) often fell on that move and Bruce knew it wasn't an easy move if only one person did it. It was Ilia Malinin and (Y/N) was in awe of the skater.

And despite (Y/N) failing at the move over and over again, (Y/N) refused to give up. Bruce respected the tenacity and could only hope that (Y/N) nailed it here.

Bruce stood up screaming when (Y/N) nailed the turn. The others did too and everyone did so too. Bruce had to lean down on his knees, trying to breath. Dick was clapping so much and then hugged Jason so tightly.

After (Y/N) was done, Bruce and the others have made their way down to his locker room. Bruce and the coach knew each other for a long time and they were allowed to go to his locker room. Everyone was quick and they all hugged (Y/N) when they got to him.

" Now we wait for the results. " (Y/N) said and Bruce gave him a kiss on the head and another congratulations. Alfred came too and gave his grandson a hug.

Now it was time to wait for the results and to see (Y/N)'s placement. Bruce hoped that (Y/N) won.

He really did, but winning isn't everything in life. There is a reason why we fall. It's so we can learn to pick ourselves up.

(Y/N) got first place, with an almost perfect score. Bruce was so proud and he was going brag about this for a long time. His brothers were going to do it too and Alfred will make (Y/N)'s favorite food when they got back home.

(Y/N) tried not to cry as he stepped onto the podium and Bruce took so many pictures that he was going to print out and frame in his office with his other sons.

He may need a bigger desk at work...

Well, that is a problem for a future Bruce. For the present Bruce, they needed to get back to Gotham and cuddle the hell out of (Y/N). The hell out of him.

(Y/N) didn't mind it.

In fact, he loves his celebratory cuddles. Especially when he won and today, after doing a quadruple Axel, he wanted a lot of cuddles.

[pubbamoon]

Misconceptions about Astrology

Hello! It's been a while since I posted the last observation here and I kinda miss that time. Since I'm turning more to traditional tropical astrology than before and learning about this topic, I've found out some misconceptions about tropical astrology, specifically made by modern tropical astrologers. Even I used to interpret some astrology placements and now I find some of these interpretations objectively wrong. Which are these misconceptions I'm talking about, you're gonna see in this post. I hope you're gonna learn something new today.

Myth: Houses are connected to the zodiac signs. For example, having planets in the 2nd house is exactly the same as having planets in Taurus.

Fact: Sadly, houses are not connected to any zodiac signs. No, Aries does not rule the 1st house. No, the 6th house is not related to the Virgo sign. No, Aquarius is not connected to the 11th house etc. That is false. Back in June, in one of my first observations, I used to think this way, that houses are somehow related to zodiac signs, but I found out this was the wrong interpretation of placements and I deeply apologize for that. In Hellenistic (traditional tropical) astrology, there's a thing called planetary joys, meaning that every planet has the most joy in a certain house. For example, the Sun has its joy in the 9th house, the Moon has its joy in the 3rd house, Mercury has its joy in the 1st house, Venus has its joy in the 5th house, Mars has its joy in the 6th house, Jupiter has its joy in the 11th house, while Saturn has its joy in the 12th house. All of these planets function very well in these mentioned houses.

Myth: Our natal chart represents our personality, who we are, our purpose, what our soul wants and what we are supposed to do.

Fact: Our natal chart actually represents our whole life and what is possibly going to happen in our life. It's not only about our personality and who we are. There's a common belief that our natal chart is about our own individual path we're meant to take, making us feel more individualistic, special and powerful, which I find very empowering and I appreciate if some people want to take control of their own life and to know more about themself. However, our natal chart also tells us about our father, mother, siblings, cousins, partners, boss, professors, working class, children etc. It is also about both of our fortunate and unfortunate events in our life we cannot fully control. So, if you're struggling to find your suitable partner or to make some money and you think you're the problem here because you're not manifesting enough or something else, maybe it's not that you're the only problem, maybe you're in an environment that is not serving you to get succeed in relationship or in finances. Or something unexpected might happen in your life which may delay your success. Trust me, your life will be much easier when you stop thinking that your natal chart tells you what you're supposed to do.

Myth: The degrees are also related to zodiac signs. For example, The 10th degree (10°) and 22nd degree (22°) are Capricorn's degrees. 5°, 17° and 29° are Leo's degrees etc.

Fact: That is completely false. Degrees do not work like that in tropical astrology at all. In Hellenistic astrology, we use the terms, mostly the Egyptian terms, to interpret the dignity and condition of planets through the degrees. Let me give you an example! So, If you might have the Sun at 22° of Gemini in your natal chart, that doesn't mean you have the Capricorn's degree or that your natal Sun in Gemini is influenced by Capricorn or Saturn at any point. Actually, your natal Sun at 22° of Gemini is placed in Mars' term (Mars' term in Gemini sign goes from 17°00' of Gemini until 23°59' of Gemini). So, your natal Sun in Gemini is not only influenced by Mercury, your natal Sun in Gemini is also influenced by the planet Mars. I'm gonna post a picture of the Egyptian terms table, so you can see how degrees actually work in tropical astrology.

Myth: Venus in man's chart represents his partner, while Mars in woman's chart represents her partner.

Fact: Venus in both man's and woman's chart represents their partner and which kind of people they might be attracted to. Venus also represents sex, not Mars. The planet Mars represents war, violence, destruction, impulsiveness, which danger shows in our life, taking forced actions we don't want to do etc. Love is supposed to be balanced, harmonized and peaceful, definitely not violent, destructive and dangerous. But that may hit different if you have Mars in the 7th house, or even Mars aspecting Venus (conjunction, opposition or square). Sex is also supposed to be balanced and harmonized. Two people sleep together because they both chose that freely, not because someone forced another partner to have sex. So, Mars cannot represent sex and your partner if you're a female, I'm sorry.

Anyways, I think I said everything I wanted to say about this topis. I hope you enjoyed it and found this observation useful. I only want to help you to interpret astrology placements with accuracy. I wish you all the successful week ahead!

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[thefandomdirtymind]

Please a OPLA Sanji x fem shyreader magic user? The crew caught them making out ☺️☺️

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hello Anon ! Thank you for your request, I admit it gave me some kind of problem since I'm the exact opposite of shy, but I had fun trying to wonder how it look like and how Sanji would succeed to make himself understand without scaring the reader. I hope you will like it !

The Magic of a Kiss

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

—

From as far as you could remember, you're always been able to make the object around you levited . A power who had created a lot of fun games and yes, a few childish misfits. But, it was your family heritage and you couldn’t be more proud to have inherited it. 

Based in a small village near the water, populated mostly by other magical folks, your family had a small shop you never truly learned to love. Your interest was more in the water and the many ships sailing on it. It's why one day, after a heated argument about your lack of implication in the family business, you decide to leave for the city.  

Shy by nature, you weren't the kind to show off, even if as a magic user, your power would have opened many doors ordinary people couldn’t even dream of reaching. But, after a few disastrous interactions, when even meeting the gaze of the Captain was above your force. You finally meet Luffy and his straw hat crew. 

Their warm approach toward you and your power made you quickly feel more comfortable. But, as they tried to get to know you more, you could stop yourself from feeling nervous to open up and bore them. You usually end up silently smiling,fidgeting your fingers, listening to their fantastique adventure and executing the heavy duty since gravity isn't a problem for you. As the time passes, they all accept your shyness, still including you in their conversation and other activities. 

Sanji was by far your favorite member of the crew, to not say you had a pretty hard crush on him. Things who’s even more complicated the task to answer him as he asks you the simplest question or tries to make you happy by cooking your favorite dishes. Of course, the blond chef would never make fun of your betterave red cheeks and often stutter, but he couldn’t help himself to flirt with you. He never had seen something more cute than your reaction as you enjoy his food and he had to admit that nothing makes him more proud than the way you look at him when you thought nobody saw you. 

It’s why one evening, as you were helping Usopp to repair the mainmast, effortlessly sending him the multiple parts of wood he needed. Sanji took place at your side, lighting a cigarette nonchalantly.

“ It amazes me each time watching you use your talent Madam“ He confessed, watching absently the plank of wood gaining altitude. “ Isn’t it exhausting to keep control of the object ?” 

“ No…I just think of it and…then they float…” You replied, already feeling the tips of your ears warming.You would for nothing share with anyone, the humiliated time it takes you to learn how to push them in the right direction and stop before reaching your face.  

“ Oh, so you have to think at every separated item to make them fly…But what happens if you aren’t in a situation to think, like say overwhelmed ? “ His tone, serious, but clearly flirting. Even if you could feel a trap, you couldn’t think of a single time when you could become so self absorbed that you couldn’t even think. “ Like let's say we kiss, will all the objects of the room start to levitate or just our heart ? “ 

The loud “ BAM “ of the plank slamming against the lower desk makes you jump, you face bright red. Up in the air, Usopp asked what happened, worried that something had occurred to you. It push as well Zoro and Nami out of the own preoccupation, concern if it was a normal noise of a sign of a near danger.With the warrant on Luffy head, your Captain who’s right now was snoring somewhere, they didn’t take any  chance.  

“ Sanji ! Don’t tease me like that…please ! “ You plead, your gaze fixed on the floor, embarrassment clearly making you want to disappear on the floor.  

“ I’m not teasing, I’m truly curious to know…We should try one day” He proposed, a smile playing on his lips as he finished his smoke before heading back to the kitchen “ I make your favorite breakfast tomorrow don’t miss it please”

That conversation spined in your head for at least a few weeks before you accept the meaning of it. Sanji had in his smooth way, confessed his affection for you and waited for you to be ready to do the same. Meantime, he didn’t push you further more, dosing his usual flirt and neither talked about it in front of the others, knowing clearly how you would be mortified. 

Until that day. 

The crew had stopped the ship alongside an island reminding you of pictures of jungle you often saw in exploration books. Each taking a different path to explore the village and his surrendering, you quickly become bored and decide to come back to the ship, certain that you were alone aboard. 

It was why the sound of metal brushing against what seemed to be the same component took you by surprise. Making your way to the kitchen, you discover Sanji, already busy cracking eggs in a bowl. Lifting his head, he smiled as he discarded the empty shell. 

“ Already back ? Are you hungry? I am planning to make an omelet for dinner, but i’m not sure if the other will be back so I will make small ones. “ 

Nodding slowly, watching nervously around you, you decided that if you had to respond to his previous invitation it was now or never. 

“ Sanji I…I...You remember that…you know that conversation...about...my talent and...Kiss…” You succeed to say, your hand sweating against your pants.

“ Yes, I remember” He replied, careful to not scare you away.

“ I would like to try…” You finally quickly confessed, your whole body burning like if you had a fever.

Washing his hand with the rag hanging on his shoulder, Sanji gently smiles contouring the kitchen island to place himself in front of you. Putting delicately your chin between his thumbs and his index, he lowered his head trying to meet your evasive gaze. 

“ I would like to see your pretty eyes Madam before kissing you “ He demanded, as you nervously turned your gaze to meet him. “ Much better” He smiled. 

His lips meet yours with tenderness, as his other hand makes himself a home on your hip. Slowly, you closed your eyes, making yourself melt in the multiples sensation of his soft mouth against yours, followed after a certain time by the teasing of his teeth nibbling your bottom lips. Your tongue quickly follows his invitation, brushing against each other, as you hand find their way to his broad shoulder. 

Inclining your head slightly higher to accommodate your difference of height, you instantly reach again for his lips, not wanting to let him go yet. 

Lost in the moment, you didn’t hear the rest of the crew come back, dinner being an abstract place in time way ahead of the feeling of Sanji against you. 

“ WOAH Y/N you can make people levitate now, that’s so cool ! “ You heard Luffy exclaim as Nami, knowing how embarrassed you should be, tried to drag him out. 

Feeling the floor meet your feet, as the cacophony of gravity regain his control of every none fixed item in the room, you promptly separated yourself of Sanji, who’s for once, was as much blushing as you do. 

“ I guess that means dinner isn't ready, “ Zoro said, unmoved by what he just saw, already taking his place at the table alongside Luffy. 

“ Guys we should maybe go eat somewhere else “ Nami tried, eyeing you hoping that it wouldn't push you to close up yourself more. 

“ No need Nami,  dinner almost ready just, give me just a minute “ Sanji protest regaining his composure before clearing his throat, whispering gently to you “ Now since we know that you make float everything around you and everyone you kiss…please Darling, let me be the only one to fly with you” 

Blushing even more, you couldn't resist laughing in front of the embarrassing but joyful event.

“ I swear “ You promised, already excited for the next time.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Hello! I just wanna say that i love your hxh x reader fics especially with chrollo, you just characterize him so well that i also wanted to read your thoughts about chrollo meeting or with a reader whos also huge theater kid and a performer who enjoys the spotlight? If you have the time though lol thank you sm!

omg 🥺🩷 thank you so much!!!! chrollo is just a rat king who deserves rat characteristics ngl... i'll be happy to write something for you! <333

Warnings: Yandere themes, implications of future kidnapping, stalking, spoilers for Chrollo’s backstory (Sarasa), and mentions of past violence (not against the reader, it’s just what comes with the Chrollo territory lol).

*~*~*~*

Chrollo, despite everything he has done, is still a man, a human – just in some ways more than others.

The blood that flows within everyone’s veins is unchanging as a whole. There is mostly water – a mix of hydrogen and oxygen – but also proteins, electrolytes, vitamins, and nutrients.

His lungs need to breathe, and it sometimes gets a bit stuffy when cigarette smoke comes inside of them.

His skin wraps around his chest, his legs, his head; every part of him, and he takes excellent care of it every day and every night. His entire routine makes him not have a worry in the world when it comes to his body.

An ice pack while doing crunches. A deep cleanser lotion. 

A water-activated gel cleanser. A honey almond body scrub. An exfoliating gel scrub. An herb-mint facial mask. After shaving, he applies another lotion with no alcohol in it.

It’s all to appear like a man, a human, this shell that may as well be a carcass nowadays. That is if it was not for his still beating heart.

“O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.”

Chrollo’s television speakers are good, but your rendition of an iconic line somehow made the sound quality even better in his eyes.

Being an actor, being loved, and loving people who come to love you… such is memories of a past he won’t forget no matter what.

You remind him of her in some ways. On and off stage, you’re always smiling – and always trying to make other people smile as well. You remind him of himself in some ways. You’re a leader of that still failing acting department and trying your best to fix it up by yourself.

In the eyes of a man far from being a man, you’re a tool to have sympathy for. Chrollo knows you’ll never complete large things because he has tried them. He has tried many things to be a good person. They never worked. You won’t succeed.

But it’s alright.

He won’t help you… But he will garner some funds. An anonymous donation to that theater you try hard to uphold despite those loan sharks always coming after you. Money made from blood will only hurt you if he tells you. No one else will. He’ll make sure of that. He will be the one to tell you when your little waltz inevitably has you falling into his arms.

He won’t help you. He’s a selfish thing – humanity has far been erased from him. He can’t get it back no matter how many bodies he stuffs beneath the ground or has rot on the surface. He’ll still try. He’s tried already, but the humanity that has been erased from him is still missing after all these years.

Treasure your last months, he wants to tell you. I wonder how it will feel to hold you. I wonder how it will feel to be held too, in due time.

I wonder how it will feel to be able to land on.

To fall and rest.

To take good care of someone and have them stay.

To hold my hair.

They’re all selfish notions. They aren’t human – or at least what humanity pretends to be.

But it’s alright, he tells himself. Their humanity will be stripped from them soon too.

Then the bond will be formed, and you can’t leave. Not just won’t.

Can’t.