#anyways this was just the explanation behind my claim

[medievalatrocities]

what? but how can this be??

well buckle up fothermuckers for a full breakdown of what was going through my brain at 3:46am (yes there is cited evidence)

starting this off by saying that Alistair Lowe, contrary to what the wiki says, is sixteen. this fact was proven by the lines "They were Lowe champions, the same ones who’d glared disdainfully down at him for sixteen years from their portraits in his home." (All of Our Demise pg 419) and "the truth that Alistair himself hadn’t managed to uncover in his sixteen years growing up in that home," (All of Our Demise pg 32). it is also canon that Alistair is the youngest of the four povs, as stated by both Amanda Foody and Charlie Lynn Herman during an Instagram interview.

we also know that Hendry was seventeen. according to All of Our Demise, which states "Despite rumors circulating about seventeen-year-old Hendry Lowe’s death," (pg 65). this can also be proved in All of Us Villains by using basic math when it says "Alistair rolled his eyes and headed toward the bar. Even though he was a year younger than Hendry," because 16+1 = 17.

another thing AoUV told us, both of the Lowe brothers were "both born in July, one year apart," (pg. 148). this comes directly from their mom, meaning that it is probably legit.

since the tournament started at around the end of september, gathered from the line "The grand wooden doors opened to the chilly September evening, and the champions were immediately greeted by shouts." (AOUV, pg 121) which came during the feast before the tournament, the readers can infer that Alistair was 16 and that Hendry was 17 for only about two months before the tournament.

now moving on to Gavin. in AoUV, it states that "He is seventeen years of age and in his final year at Ilvernath South Public Secondary School.” (pg 122). at the very end of AoOD, it is noted that "He’d promised Fergus that he’d do everything he could to obtain legal guardianship of him the moment he turned eighteen—only a week away now." (pg 465).

(bonus extra analysis: this is weird because it was said earlier that he skipped a grade. however, if we assume that schooling in ilvernath is similar to real world schooling, that would mean he would have already graduated before the tournament rolled around. bc 16-17 is junior year and 17-18 is senior year for people that don't skip grades. well for the US at least. im not really sure how UK school works but I do know they also graduate at 18. Also, I just think Foody and Herman might have based it on the US school system because they are both American. does this make sense or am I just pulling at imaginary strings? idk but anyways)

moving on. in the text, it consistently states that the tournament lasts for three months (im not citing this cause a. its everwhere in the books and b. im getting lazy). therefore, if the tournament starts at the end of september and lasts three months, that would mark the end of the tournament at around the end of December. if I remember correctly, AoUV contained the first two weeks and a half of the tournament while AoOD contained around a month and a half of the tournament before it ended. this puts us at around two months since the start of the tournament.

in the chapter from where i got the "moment he turned eighteen" quote, there was a time skip of almost a month from the forced end of the tournament. put the two months + one month and now were at where the tournament was supposed to end, in december-ish. this solidly then solidely puts Gavin's birthday in the december to january timeframe.

now put this all together and what have you got? if all my reasoning and evidence is correct, then Gavin is around six months older than Hendry and a year and a half older than Alistair.

i rest my case :)

pov: youre watching me lose my mind connecting the dots between the ages of some fictional characters

i have just come to the realization that Gavin is older than Hendry and i dont know what to do with this information

[saetoshi]

i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would

Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.

An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.

Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.

Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).

His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.

When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.

“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.

Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.

“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.

“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.

“I know. Want me to pick you up?”

“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”

“Sae.”

The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.

He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.

“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.

God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.

“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”

Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”

You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”

“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).

“I wanna go home.”

“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”

He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”

“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”

“Yeah?”

He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”

“I don’t—”

“And I’m bringing you down with me.”

A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.

“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.

Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.

[stxxryvoid]

˚₊‧꒰ა Silly Things That They Do ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Genshin Impact

✧ Silly (and sometimes annoying) things that they do, but it's okay you love them anyway <3

✧ Featuring ✧ Childe, Heizou, Kazuha, Kaeya, Venti, Kaveh, and Itto x GN! Reader (Separate)

✧ Content Warnings ✧ Some swearing

✧ Childe

"Rise and shine sleepy head!" No further explanations needed.

He'll roll you up in your blankets for no apparent reason and then leave before you can escape the soft prison he put you in.

If you're going to jump on the bed he'll mf snatch the pillow and you fall on the bed itself.

When he's cooking he'll def shape the food into cute shapes.

He'd probably find something you're looking for and say he doesn't know where it is, but a while later will give it to you so you can praise him and give him a kiss.

Comes up from behind you and puts his hands over your eyes saying: "Guess who?"

Tells you to stay out of trouble when he's gone even though anything you do will never amount to the shit he does when he's working.

✧ Shikanoin Heizou

Kicks your feet under the table like he's a damn child.

Anytime he does something he expects a kiss as a reward.

He could literally open a jar you couldn't open and expect a big kiss and cuddles.

If you ask him to make you coffee he'll definitely make it!

You just won't get it unless you get up yourself because you only asked him to make it not bring it.

But if you ask him next time to bring the coffee he'll bring the whole ass coffee pot bc you didn't ask for it in a cup.

Will blame you for him waking up late on a work day when he's the one staying up late to work on cases.

Gets genuinely offended when you tell him no fried food bc it's not good for him.

He does a ">:(" and gives you one-worded responses for an hour.

He's not mad he's just the biggest tease to exist on Teyvat.

Start getting actually upset and he actually feels so bad and does anything to make it up to you.

✧ Kaedehara Kazuha

Comes up behind you without making a sound says "Hi." and scares the living daylights out of you.

If you catch him doing smth he'll use such poetic words you can't even understand to get out of the situation.

Starts spitting poetry out of nowhere.

It could be dead silent between the two of you and he gives you a romantic poem.

If he's cooking he will put food you do not like in there but hide it so well it tastes good to you.

While you're eating he'll stare at you like 🙂

Then you realized you fell victim to eating smth like brussel sprouts again.

If you're working he'll deadass show up in your office or smth.

Like how??

No notification from your coworkers and you js look up he's there.

Kazuha 10/10 horror movie killer material, silent footsteps, appears out of nowhere, unsuspecting, and has a sharp weapon

He knows so many cats like wtf

A cat comes up to him he pets it and says "Hi, cat name." AND DOES IT W SO MANY CATS??

✧ Kaeya

Okay I know I called Heizou the biggest tease but I changed my mind.

If Heizou is the king of teasing Kaeya is the all knowing, all powerful, all mighty god of teasing.

Flirts with you at the most random times.

Could be fighting some monsters he decides its the best time to try a new pick up line.

And it's always the best one's too, but he decides to save the horrendous ones for completely normal times.

He has no life.

With no cavalry to captain he can't be the cavalry captain so with nothing to do most of the time he's glued to your hip.

He'll play with your hair in front of someone no matter how many times you smack his hand away.

Claims he needs some random article of clothing on him fixed just so he can have your attention.

Y'know that thing where you bump your hip on someone to make them trip/fall over?

He does that.

If you stumble he'll act like he did nothing and turn the other way.

If you fall and it's hilarious he'll laugh before helping you up.

But if you fall and hurt yourself he'll actually feel bad and help you up and make sure you're okay. He's at your beck and call for the rest of the day.

He needs attention.

It's like taking care of a big cat.

✧ Venti

Also does the hip bump thing.

If you go to find him after he does some drinking he could be in the most random ass position ever.

Laying back down legs up against a building.

Passed out on some hay in a crate.

Sleeping under a bench.

You can't even be surprised anymore.

His feet are actually icebergs.

When he takes off them stocking things he puts his feet on you and your body temperature decreases by 20 degrees.

Styles his hair and yours in the most random ways.

If you wear makeup he took it once and ended up looking like a barbie doll got into a street fight and lost.

Sings you songs about the most random shit.

He turned milk and cookies into a song.

Meowing back at cats is normal.

But he barks back at dogs and really puts the enthusiasm in it..

✧ Kaveh

Plays with his food.

Moves it around on his plate to form shapes before he actually eats it.

Sometimes is drinking while he draws things and was painting once and ended up drinking the paint water on accident.

He spat it out and started rubbing his tongue while you and Al haitham were like 🤨

Thought all he loses are his keys?

Nah everything he's touched has been lost at least once.

He's still looking for some things that vanished into thin air.

He sometimes talks in his sleep.

Mostly about you, cats, dogs, and food.

He's actually so knowledgeable on beauty products??

You could be buying something for skin care and he snatches it and says "No."

"Don't buy this..." and yaps on for a good minute.

Then he'll go and pick up smth else for you and buy it for you and you're js left there shocked.

✧ Arataki Itto

This man is the epitome of silly.

He also cant whisper for shit.

Do NOT shit talk someone to him all of Inazuma will know within 30 minutes.

He has so many spare combs.

A backup comb for his comb a back-backup comb for the backup comb a back-back-backup comb for the back-backup comb and so on...

Don't give him hot sauce. Just don't.

Do NOT mess up his hair. He'll be ":(" the entire day.

He knows about lots of good food.

Can he cook any of this good food?

Hell no.

If you cook him anything he'll be so happy and eats every last crumb, would probably eat the plate to get all the macromolecules of the food.

(If he even knew what a macromolecule is)

If you make him something it's treasured forever and the only fingerprints on it are yours and his.

Definitely owns a diary somewhere.

-Stxxry

[slickfordain]

POOKS I HAVE AN IDEA

Ahem...yandere aiden, logan, tyler n ash or whoever u want w WEAK READER N YK THEY R PRETTY OVERPROTECTIVD OF HER WHY? bc she is fragile af-- always manage to get herself injured in the most dunb ways possible n how tf is she gonna manage to survive in this realm? She needs them ‼️‼️

𝕭𝖗���𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 // School Bus Graveyard

TW: Yandere themed, NO NSFW, gore/injuries mentioned, fragile!female!reader who is paranoid and anxious, AU explanation-wise writing? It’s kind of short but it’s like an explanation what my SBG x reader AU is;;u ;

You don’t know how you even ended up here in this situation…. Restless sleep, insomnia, hallucinations,— Ah… Who am I kidding? You knew exactly what was happening and it all started way back when you were ordered to tutor around the new students. Being the one who wasn’t new, it was hard to keep a conversation with them because….. One would keep her distance away, one would be thrilled to nag the girl who distanced away, the twins didn’t give a damn, and… Ben and Logan were probably the only ones who ever offered to listen to you.

However despite those hours you eventually got to bond with them, all because of… Well…. You tripping down the stairs all of the sudden until Ashlyn caught you. And that’s where the spark happened… That’s what clicked in Ashlyn’s mind to suddenly want to protect you, with you in her arms looking hopeless and defenseless. The group claimed you as their pink princess but, you didn’t thought much of it….

And why they even bother to call you that, you still felt loved at least by your friends.

But… Every time you walk home after hanging out with them, especially on that trip, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The thought of that hideous creature behind Ashlyn…. You haven’t left your house since then, and gave excuses to your teacher even for him to understand.

You’ve never felt anything weird like this before… The ones you are looking to avoid were mostly creepy men, or just in general a group of people who you think could possibly bully you, or take advantage.

So why? Why did you suddenly have to endure horror?

❝[NAME]!!!❞

You’ve impaled yourself on accident by trying to get away from a monster, you’ve tripped and fallen into a dark void where you died by the fall, you even somehow died by trying to save Tyler, but you ended up dying anyways! It was getting so… So much harder…

You’ve gotten injured. Over, and over, and over again. It’s pissing Ashlyn, Aiden, Tyler— everyone off. It was as if they saw life flash before their eyes…. And while you’re alive in the real world, with no scratches or injuries, they couldn’t afford to lose you again. To make you hopeless, to make you unable to walk.

It was another dream, another dream where suddenly you’re locked in the bird cage Aiden had somehow decided to buy… You stared confused, yearning for an explanation…. But the boys and girls wouldn’t give you any.

❝Guys..? Please… I thought we were a team..❞

❝Princess… We are! We swear…! Please don’t take it badly! We’re doing this for your own good…❞

You couldn’t really argue with them. You’re just tired and you have been unable to get proper sleep… You suppose it’s okay but… It wasn’t getting better as you thought it would. Despite dreams having you only locked up every now and then, in the morning in reality- you are FOLLOWED constantly by either the twins, Ashlyn, Aiden, or Ben… Logan? Probably cameras in your house (not your bedroom or bathroom) to ensure you made it home safely.

It’s getting out of hand. It’s going bizarre, but are you doing something about it? NO! Their parents scares you! You don’t want to break your friendship either… You knew how easily broken they’d be… And… You don’t want to handle or deal with Aiden’s family, nor do you wanna karate with Ashlyn’s mother. You can’t even fight!

So the only thing you could do was just… Accept it as it is. And let it be… Although you probably aren’t aware that the parents adores you, finding you so sweet and matchable for their little children. You don’t pay attention to that, all you could focus on were your eyebags and your injured body…. There wasn’t anything, reality-wise, but God it stung that you could barely make it through school. Even though I kind of said you give excuses…. You still had to do exams for at least collage….

Don’t take them wrong, they’d love for you to stay safe and to not join the horror attraction… But also, after the reveal when the parents could also see the demonic creatures, it instantly clicks that you weren’t safe. Nor were your parents. (Don’t give a damn about your parents, they don’t like them)

They need you. They constantly need you. They can’t have you out of your cage, but they can’t have you out of the dreams as well…. Which considers leading it to having you as some sort of a motivation. They need you to support them for everything they do.

So when the parents are going into that situation, it’s best to believe they NEED you with them so nobody in reality can kidnap you while they’re asleep…. Fighting off monsters, you know?

And the shady guys? Do not worry a single thing about them at all.

I mean, what more could you possibly do than to be stuck in your own bedroom or classroom? You’re going nowhere near the stores or arcade. Not after that Logan incident, that is….

[catatombi]

beware of fang

Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends. Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform Dont harass, dont contact. all of this is public information so https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries

https://fanged-info.carrd.co/ Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly Insta: ffangedd / narilamb Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno Cara: narilamb Blusky: fanged / narilamb Itaku: fanged Artfight: FANGED Toyhouse: FFANGEDD Sheezy: fanged Discord & telegram: narilamb All the people mentioned have given consent Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG

The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter If you want any additional context feel free to ask

Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours. He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first. he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD) fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them. He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too. He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him” He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent. Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age) He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces. He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.) When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting” He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide. 

Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery. Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG in these screens alone he: admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide

warts screenshots v

full screenshots & complete context in the drive as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything (the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method) https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing

edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24 here is a link to pavi's response warts response and kats response

[ckret2]

Chapter 44 of human Bill Cipher wishing he was trapped in the Mystery Shack again:

The Eclipse: Part 2

Gravity is disappearing, and to find out why, Ford's inspecting the sites where the fabric of spacetime might have been damaged by Weirdmageddon. Dipper's glad to come along.

Bill really, really, really isn't.

"I am genuinely offering you helpful advice, that also happens to be self-serving because you idiots wouldn't trust me if I claimed I was being charitable anyway," Bill went on, as he'd been going on for the past five minutes. "This isn't a trick! I'm not running a con! I'm completely serious: being outside during an eclipse is the stupidest thing you could do. You don't want to watch it, I want to watch it even less, staying inside is mutually beneficial!"

"Do you think I should have brought my camera?" Dipper asked, determinedly ignoring Bill as he trailed behind them.

"What for?" Ford asked, also ignoring Bill.

"I've been trying to expand my Guide to the Unexplained series this summer—I've been doing longer episodes, a couple of them are ten minutes—but I wasn't sure if we'd see anything cool and my backpack was already heavy..."

"Hmm. I suspect either there won't be anything worth seeing—or, if there is, we'll be far too busy dealing with it to record footage."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "I guess you're right."

"This is why my journals have more illustrations than photographs."

Bill let out a loud groan of frustration before jogging to catch up with the humans. He checked the trail ahead to make sure he wasn't about to trip, then turned to walk sideways, facing Dipper and Ford as they walked. "Okay, fine, you win. So, just to be clear—the only reason you two are dragging me out here is to check a few locations for these imaginary 'micro-rips' you think are shredding the fabric of reality apart. Right? As soon as we've checked the three places you want, it's over, you admit you were wrong, and we go back to the shack?"

"Yes, Cipher," Ford sighed. "Once we've checked those locations, if we can't find evidence that any of the areas of most concern are near the one hundred thousand micro-rip danger threshold, we'll go home. Since dimensional rips could pop up anywhere around Gravity Falls, there's a possibility there could be clusters over the danger threshold away from the three areas of concern, but with no way to guess where they might be—"

"Fine. Then let's get this over with," Bill said. "Totality is in two days, if we're back home by tomorrow night we'll still avoid it. But if you try to drag me outside again after we get back, I'm hitting everyone with the Amnesia Limina curse and nobody's going outside."

With that threat delivered, Bill cartwheeled ahead of the humans, landed on his feet, and bounded ahead in long moonwalking lopes.

"Any idea why gravity's going down faster for him than the rest of town?" Dipper asked.

"Only that, if there are rips opening between us and the Nightmare Realm, perhaps they're giving Bill back some of his powers," Ford said. "Perhaps his powers are stored in the Nightmare Realm. Although I don't know how that would work." It was a better explanation than Bill's claim that he could just float better than humans, anyway.

The bracelet around Dipper's wrist momentarily tightened as Bill reached the far end of his invisible tether, then loosened as Dipper continue forward; and then tightened a second time, and a third time. From up the trail, Bill shouted, "Would you hurry up!" 

"You slow down! Some of us still have to walk!"

But even so, the slowly decreasing gravity was making the hike noticeably easier. Their backpacks sat lighter on their shoulders, and each stride seemed to carry them a little higher and farther than they expected. They startled a deer, and then the deer startled itself with how high it jumped.

"On second thought, it might not be a good idea to take him back to the shack while this is going on," Ford said. "Even if there aren't enough micro-rips in the basement, I'm not wholly convinced it won't end up the epicenter of whatever's about to happen. And if Bill wants so badly to be so close to it..."

From further up the trail, Bill shouted, "If you were any more paranoid, you'd be asking your own shadow why it's following you!"

"If you had access to any more of your powers, you'd be possessing my shadow!"

"Ha!" Bill had stopped to perch on a fallen tree that on any other day would have been far too slender to hold an adult's weight, balanced on it like a tightrope, and waited there for the others to catch up. "Fine, we don't need to go back to the shack, whatever makes you happy! As long as we get inside. Stanley's camper, a motel room, the old Corduroy cabin—hey, the Northwest place is pretty empty these days, isn't it? Is Specs renting out rooms, or...?"

"I am not taking you to Northwest Manor," Ford said. "Fiddleford's had enough trouble without letting you into his life again." Although that was only one of several reasons Ford wanted to keep them apart. For Fiddleford's safety, they couldn't risk Bill finding out that Fiddleford had been told his identity; and, now that Bill had confessed he could see through walls, they couldn't give him a chance to peer through the manor's walls and discover the ongoing paradox fuel synthesis project.

Bill laughed in disbelief. "Oh now you're concerned about somebody else's wellbeing, when it's his—fine! Fine, fine, fine! That's just fine! That's great! Terrific!" He hopped off his perch. "No evidence of self-preservation and let's not even think about respecting the triangle's wishes, but when the hillbilly might be in imaginary danger—!"

"That 'hillbilly' is one of the most brilliant men alive and the best friend I've ever known—"

"Ha!" Angrily, Bill yelled, "Some best friend, he erased you straight out of his head! You don't even know what a best friend is!"

Ford winced—he knew he'd never been much of a friend back to Fiddleford—but while he was gearing himself up to defend himself against whatever accusation Bill lobbed next, Bill turned away from the humans and stormed up the trail, leaving them behind as the weaving path took him behind several trees.

Every couple of steps, Dipper's bracelet twitched against his wrist as Bill tried to get even further ahead and was thwarted. He chuckled. "Do you think you touched a nerve?"

The corner of Ford's mouth quirked up; but he shook his head. "He's just mad he's not getting his way. As usual."

####

"I take it this is our first destination," Bill said, hands planted on his hips, looking around the forest. "This looks like the area where Shooting Star gave me the rift."

Dipper said, "You mean the place where you tricked—"

Bill shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes. "Anyway, that aside, all the glued-shut wormholes and this are a bigger hint." He tapped the tip of one dress shoe—dusty after a walk in the woods—at the start of a long crevasse in the ground weaving through the trees.

"Yes," Ford said distractedly, taking his micro-rip scanner out of his backpack and turning it on. "This is the place." He took an initial reading, frowned, and followed the crevasse deeper into the woods.

Bill trailed along after him, gesturing at the jagged lines of bending light hanging in the air. "You did a terrible repair job, by the way. Stretching the edges of the rips to meet like that puts more stress on the reality in between the rips. You should have sutured them and let them heal naturally," Bill said. "If there are a bunch of tiny rips in the area, your own shoddy work probably caused them."

"Mm-hm," Ford said, fully focused on the scanner.

Bill's shoulders slumped. He hopped to the other side of the crack in the earth from Ford and strode ahead purposefully, ignoring him.

He glanced at a wooden sign staked next to the crack, nearly passed it, and did a double take. The sign read "MABEL'S FAULT". Bill laughed in surprise. "Who did this?"

"What—?" Dipper caught up and saw the sign. "Oh."

####

2012

Mabel's smile faded as she entered the clearing. "Oh. I... think this is the place where—Bill tricked me in Blarblar's body."

"Guess that explains all the rips in this area," Dipper said. He patted Mabel's back.

She looked down—and spotted the new crack in the ground. She gasped, immediately latching on to the distraction. "Hey, what's that! That wasn't here before!" She knelt next to the crack and peered inside. "Whoa!"

"Huh. Maybe it opened up when the rift broke?"

"How deep do you think it goes?" Mabel hopped back up, straddled the gap, and yelled down into it, "Hello!"

"Careful," Dipper said. "What if it's unstable?"

"We should give it a name," Mabel said. "It's a new geographic feature! We can put it on maps and be famous! What'll we call it?"

"Huh." Dipper stroked his chin. "Well... it looks kind of like a miniature fault line... and you were here when it formed, so I guess that kinda means you discovered it... so maybe... 'Mabel's Fault'...?"

Mabel stared at him.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Ohh no."

Mabel bit her lip.

"I didn't mean it that way! I swear I didn't mean it that way—"

"Dipper!" Mabel cracked up. "We're calling it that."

"No," Dipper said, mortified. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please please don't—"

"Grunkle Staaan, Grunkle Fooord!" Mabel took off toward where they'd last seen their grunkles. "Did you hear what Dipper said—!"

"I'm sorryyy!"

####

2013

Dipper cringed. "Look, I didn't hear it until I said it out loud, okay—"

Bill burst out in shrill cackles.

"I didn't mean it!"

"Y-you're the worst brother ever!"

Dipper groaned, contemplated climbing down into the fault, and instead settled for pulling his hat down over his face again.

Ford passed by with the scanner, shot Bill a suspicious sideways look, and demanded, "What's so funny?"

Still laughing, Bill gestured at the "MABEL'S FAULT" sign.

"Oh." Ford glanced at Dipper, fought not to smile at the poor kid's embarrassment—he'd gotten enough teasing last summer—and said, "Right." He moved on.

"Hey," Bill called, "What's the score?"

Ford paused, but didn't reply.

"Well?" Bill pressed. "You're already past where the rift broke! Don't you figure that's where the most rips would be?"

Ford said, "The scanner's detecting about fourteen thousand."

Bill whistled. He meandered back to Ford's side of the fault. "Sounds like a lot. I'm telling you, the wormholes in this place should've been sutured, that's what your problem is."

"It is a lot," Ford said brusquely. He hesitated. "But."

"But?" Bill prompted.

"But... it's less than a fifth of what we'd expect to see if the fabric of reality were falling apart."

"Wow. Let me pretend to be surprised." Bill made zero effort to look surprised. "That's because the fabric of reality isn't falling apart. You idiot."

Ford glared at his scanner silently.

"You fool," Bill tried. "You buffoon."

Ford rounded furiously on him. "The more you say it's nothing, the more you just convince me that you're lying!"

"Which is stupid! If you always assume I'm lying, how do you know I'm not saying 'it's nothing' to trick you into thinking it's something when it isn't!"

"I don't know! There's no way to know with you! That's why I'm checking with a scanner!" Ford pointed aggressively at the scanner. "Because I'm a scientist!"

"You're a pretty pathetic scientist if you refuse to listen when the expert on a topic tells you what's—"

"—maybe if the self-proclaimed 'expert' weren't a mythomaniac—"

"Guys," Dipper said tiredly. "You've had this argument three times. Can we move on?"

Ford closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Right."

"No," Bill said. "Not until I win it."

"Can it, Bill." Ford glanced toward the sky to orient himself, looked around for the path through the trees, and started walking. "Come on. Next site—the place where the rift closed."

Bill clenched his jaw. Under his breath, he muttered, "As if I've ever done anything in my life to make me look untrustworthy..." He glanced up as well—and his gaze lingered on the sky much longer than Ford's.

####

"So I was thinking about what we could do after this," Dipper said, looking hopefully up at Ford.

It took a moment for Ford to drag himself out of his thoughts and look at Dipper. "Yes? You mean after..."

"After the ecl—" Dipper winced, "the... rips get sealed, or whatever's going on." He'd pulled out his journal and was holding it hopefully. "Maybe... I could show you the research I've been doing on the Fremont Nightwigglers? I think they've been stealing pants in town."

He gave Dipper a little more attention. "Is this one of their migration years?" 

"Yeah, I think so! One was caught on a security camera—or at least what looks like one. Here." Dipper flipped open to the two-page spread he was currently working on and held it up for Ford to inspect.

He studied the pictures, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that. Very impressive research. I only experienced one migration during my time in Gravity Falls, and they'd all but moved on by the time I caught wind of it. Never even saw one—I had to interview the townspeople to get a description of them."

"Really? I don't remember seeing them in your journals."

"Ah, they never made it in. I was focused on compiling magical spells and artifacts for Journal 2 at the time. I took some notes with the thought of putting them in Journal 1, but never felt like I'd collected enough information to write about them—especially when I hadn't witnessed one myself," Ford said. "You've already collected more here than I ever did. I wasn't even sure they were real!"

Dipper's face lit up. "Really? It's not that much—I still haven't found one yet either, it's mostly interviews about the crime spree."

"It's more real investigative work than I did on them. I only got as far as asking a couple of people at the diner to describe the local stories. You've got the dates and times they've been hitting the stores."

"I guess so." Dipper beamed proudly. "I haven't heard any 'local stories' about them, though. I only recognized them from a documentary I saw on Californian cryptids."

"That might be the Blind Eye's handiwork. Everyone recognized the name when I lived here. I'll see if I can dig up the notes I took, you might find the information valuable," Ford said. "I'm not sure where I left them, but they're probably still somewhere in my study."

"Scrapbook in your study on the top right corner of your desk," Bill said. "Under the box of glue bottles. You're welcome."

Ford threw him an irritated look. Bill had gotten ahead of them while Ford was looking at Dipper's journal, and now he was crouched beside a creek, scooping up handfuls of water, momentarily inspecting them, and letting them spill back out. The eye on the hood stared balefully up at Ford from Bill's back.

Ford asked, "What in the world are you doing."

"Communing with the dread harbingers of the coming eclipse," Bill said flatly. "You can't see them of course, they're invisible to you."

"Of course." Ford muttered, "I don't know why I bother to ask."

Under his breath, Bill mumbled, "Don't know why he bothered to ask."

Ford studied the creek and checked his map. They were hiking east toward the lake, with the town to their south and the cliff to the north; the creek ran north to south in front of them. On the other side of the creek, southeast of them, was a thicker, overgrown part of the woods, the shadows between the trees darker and quieter. "This seems like a safe place to wait," Ford said. "Dipper, you stay here while I scan the next site. Keep him out of trouble."

Dipper nodded. Bill cast Ford a sullen look, then rolled his eye and looked back at the water.

"After I've checked the next spot, we'll follow the cliffside to the lake," Ford said, pointing northeast, away from the dark area of the forest. "If there's still daylight, we can take a boat behind Trembley Falls and set up camp inside the cave."

"Sounds good." Dipper looked at Bill's tiny borrowed backpack. "You... didn't bring a tent, did you."

"Sorry, do you think I have a tent to bring?" Bill asked. "Do you expect me to slide an entire tipi out of my—"

Ford interrupted, "Dipper, you brought a tent, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then that's sufficient. You can share my tent and we'll set up Bill's as far from ours as possible. We'll be safer that way."

Bill ignored the implicit accusation with silent dignity.

Dipper nodded. "Good idea." 

"Now, let's see..." Ford studied the creek. It was much wider than he could usually jump, but under the current gravity conditions... He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, testing how light he currently felt; then took a few steps back, got a running start, and with a "hup!" leaped across the creek. He cleared it by several feet and almost ran into a tree.

Dipper gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dipper! Just... don't know my own strength." How low was gravity now, he wondered? He could see grass swaying beneath the surface of the creek. It hadn't rained lately; without as much gravity, even water was being pulled down less, letting it rise higher and flood the creek's banks. He hoped they figured out how to reverse this before the lake flooded. When they made it into the cave, they'd have to camp on high ground. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dipper side-eyed Bill; but when he kept gazing into the water without a word, Dipper said suspiciously, "What, no complaints about camping?"

"What's there to complain about?" Bill asked.

"I don't know, you've complained about everything else so far."

"This is the only part of your expedition that isn't a terrible idea," Bill said. "I love camping! Hypothetically. The Nightmare Realm isn't known for picturesque campgrounds. But hey, I like being surrounded by trees. And a private tent? Deluxe accommodations! It's just too bad you'll be dragging the mood down."

"Hey."

Bill laughed. "You're too easy."

Dipper scowled. "You don't seem like the type to be into camping."

"Why not?"

Dipper thought about it. "Man, I dunno, you just—seem like a city person? You're always talking about how much you want to throw wild parties, that's basically the opposite of camping in the woods."

"Is it?" Bill asked. "Welcome to the cult of Dionysus."

Given what Dipper could remember about Dionysus from the book of Greek mythology he'd read in sixth grade, he supposed wild parties and hanging out in the woods weren't mutually exclusive. So what was it about Bill that made Dipper feel so strongly that he wouldn't be caught dead roughing it?

Finally, Dipper said, "I guess it's the top hat and bow tie."

"They're not a top hat and bow tie."

He gave Bill a perplexed look. "Really? What are they?"

"Did you ever read that horror story about the bride with a velvet ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, and when her new husband unties it, her head falls off her neck and bounces down the stairs—?"

Dipper shuddered. "I'm sorry I asked."

Bill laughed.

After a brief silence, he finally dragged his eyes away from the water and impressively flicked a couple of mosquitoes out of the air with a finger. (Dipper wished he could do that. His arms were coated in soothsquito bite messages. He wondered what "BURN TACK" was supposed to mean.) Bill took off his backpack, rummaged around in it, and muttered, "I should've brought a book." He looked around the bank of the creek for a patch of sunlight, pushed his sleeves and leggings up to expose as much skin as possible, and flopped down in the light, eyes shut and hands laced on his chest over the backpack.

Dipper supposed that meant he was being ignored. He took his journal back out and flipped to the section on the Nightwigglers. He'd need some empty space to add Ford's local folklore once they got home. Was there any open space in the next few pages?

"It really shouldn't be called 'Mabel's Fault,'" Bill said out of the blue. "It's not her fault. It should be called 'Bill's Fault.' I'm the one who made it, aren't I?"

Dipper lowered his journal. "Sorry, are you actually accepting blame for something? You're admitting you did something wrong?"

Bill didn't even open his eyes. "I'm not 'accepting blame,' I'm claiming credit. Weirdmageddon was great. Can't help that you're all too boring to see that."

"But you said 'Bill's Fault.' Not 'Bill's Triumph' or something."

"Sure, because we're talking about a geological fault. Don't read too deep into it, kid."

"Pff, no, you definitely said it was your fault. I can't believe Grunkle Ford missed that—"

Bill abruptly sat up. "Hey. What's the 'next site.'"

"What?"

Bill counted off on his fingers, "Six-Fingers said there are four sites you want to hit, right? The place where the rift formed, the place Weirdmageddon started, the place the rift was during Weirdmageddon, and the place Weirdmageddon ended. The rift formed at the portal—been there—Weirdmageddon started at the fault—been there—during Weirdmageddon it was in the sky—going there tomorrow—so where did Weirdmageddon end? Wasn't it in the sky too?"

"Oh," Dipper said. "It's just. Y'know. It's just a... place."

Bill gave him a sharp look.

Dipper swallowed hard. "No big deal. Just... trees and stuff."

Bill flipped up his eye patch, staring in the direction Ford had disappeared. Dipper could see the white of his eye turning red.

"Hey!" Dipper got in front of Bill, trying to block the view of the forest. "It's nothing important. You—you wouldn't even be interested. Really."

Bill just stared straight through Dipper. And then, before Dipper could react, Bill was on his feet and bolting past him. By the time Dipper turned around Bill was already across the creek, following the path Ford had taken.

"No no no, come back!" Dipper jumped the creek and sprinted after Bill, shouting, "Don't go that way, you can't go that way, Bill—"

There was a dark, quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest, as if no animals had dared visit the area for nearly a year, leaving it to choke itself on its own greenery. Bill was headed straight for the heart of it. He moved through the trees like a swimmer through underwater ruins, kicking off trunks to propel himself forward, grabbing branches to help twist his body around and between them without slowing down—more flying than running, gravity hardly seeming to touch him at all.

He barreled past Ford and his scanner without even acknowledging him. Ford gasped, "Wait—" He turned the direction Bill had come from.

Dipper was squeezing between two trees and tripped over a hidden root. "Grunkle Ford—!"

"Dipper! You still have the bracelet!" Ford pointed, "Run the other direction!"

"Right!" He turned around and squeezed back between the dense trees.

And Ford took off after Bill.

Wild brambles tore at Bill's skin and ripped at his hoodie; he ignored the pain, letting the prickles bite into him as he forced his way through the shrubs—

And then he stood in the clearing, gasping in unsteady breaths, his wide unblinking eyes staring.

In front of him, wide unblinking eye staring vacantly into the trees, was his corpse.

"Bill!" Ford fought against the brambles, trying to figure out how Bill had gotten through. "Don't touch it! We don't know what could happen—"

Bill lunged for the statue.

The bracelet snapped tight around his wrist. Bill's fingers were inches away from his corpse's outstretched hand.

Thirty feet away, Dipper's bracelet went tight while he was trying to scramble over an ancient log. He awkwardly tried to keep his balance on the log; rather than risk toppling back in Bill's direction, he flung his weight the other way, keeping the invisible thread between them taut by leaning so far over that if it weren't for the bracelet holding him up he'd fall to the forest floor.

Bill fell to his knees, clawing at the dirt and grass with his free hand and feet, desperate to drag himself closer in spite of the completely immovable bracelet.

It seemed impossible to Ford that the thin invisible thread wrenching Bill's arm back would hold him for long; Bill would sooner dislocate his own shoulder to gain those last few inches. Ford fell out of the brambles and seized one of Bill's legs. "Bill—"

Bill tried to kick Ford in the face. "You KNEW!" he shrieked. "You knew I was here this WHOLE TIME and you NEVER TOLD ME, you ANIMALS! I could have had my body back! I COULD BE HOME!"

That was exactly what Ford was afraid of. Gritting his teeth, Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other around his neck, struggling to get enough purchase on the torn-up ground to move Bill.

Wheezing for breath, Bill tried to kick out one of Ford's knees. Ford took advantage of the split second one of Bill's feet wasn't dug in to drag him back; he only managed to move him a few inches.

But a few inches of slack on the invisible thread was enough to throw off Dipper's balance. He instinctively tried to flail back upright, overcorrected, and tumbled off the log the wrong way. "No—!"

Bill lunged out of Ford's hold, scrabbled across the last few inches to his corpse, and planted his hand on his stone face.

He froze.

Ford froze.

Nothing happened.

"N..." Bill grabbed his arm, grabbed his hand, as though trying to shake on a deal with his own body; nothing. "No." He sounded more confused than anything. "No, no, nonono..."

He hung off the statue by his grip, pressed his forehead against their joined hands. And then he let go and slowly put his trembling hand on the dead face. And then he sat there, breathing shakily, every few seconds sucking in a hitching gasp that made his shoulders jerk.

Ford gingerly got to his feet, brushed his clothes off, and looked at Bill. He didn't move for a moment; then reached for Bill's shoulder; then stopped, curled his hand into a ball, clasped it behind his back, and turned away. "Dipper," he called. "You can come back. It's..." He cast one last glance at Bill, then forced himself to look away. "It's safe."

By the time Dipper caught up, Ford had made his way back into the overgrowth, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Dipper started, "What...?" but fell silent when he saw Ford's face. He looked past him at Bill and winced.

Ford shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "We should give him..." Dipper nodded.

Bill remained kneeling for less than a minute. Then he leaned forward, used his sleeve to wipe some of the moss off of his dead eye and the bird crap off his hat and hand, and unsteadily heaved himself back to his feet. He moved like he was very, very old. He glanced over his shoulder at Ford and Dipper. "What're you two staring at." His voice sounded like somebody was attempting to strangle him and his smile looked like a zombie had pulled its skin back on wrong. "You should've said you were waiting on me. I was just..." His eyes briefly unfocused. He shook his head. "Just taking a break." His cheeks were dry. He hadn't even cried.

They stepped back as Bill wove around the brambles. Dipper swallowed hard and asked, "Are you alr—"

"Of course I am." Bill plodded mechanically toward the path out of the dense dark woods. 

Ford asked, "Do you want t—"

"What I want is to get wherever we're pitching our tents before nightfall." Bill pulled his eyepatch back in place. "You're making us camp, right?"

They had no choice. If they wanted to get to the top of Trembley Falls, reach Gravity Peak, and get back down the same day, they had to be ready to ascend in the morning. They couldn't afford to go back to the shack tonight. "Are you s—"

"What were the readings like," Bill asked.

Ford hadn't even gotten as far as taking readings around the statue; he'd still been checking the perimeter of the overgrown zone when Bill ran past. He looked for where he'd dropped his scanner, picked it up, and checked. "215 micro-rips detected. Higher than baseline levels, but—not even as high as readings around the portal."

Voice thick with venom, Bill said, "What a surprise."

When the forest had brightened again and the creek was visible, Bill turned to travel upstream alongside it. Dipper pointed across the creek at Bill's backpack. "You forgot your..."

"Right," Bill said tiredly. He hopped across the creek. 

And gasped in shock when, instead of floating across as before, he landed heavily in the middle of the creek. He squeezed his eye shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long, silent inhale; and then he climbed out and grabbed his backpack. This time, he put enough force behind his jump to make it back across the creek. 

Dipper and Ford exchanged a look. Ford said, "Do you need a minute to dry—?"

"No."

"You could catch a cold in those damp—"

"I knew how germ theory works on your planet when your gill-breathing ancestors were still swimming around in their own feces," Bill snapped. "When I say 'no,' it's not because I don't understand, it's because I don't care. Don't treat me like I'm ignorant and don't act like you care."

Ford's jaw tightened. No, he didn't care. Bill accepted basic human decency as easily as he offered it. "Fine. Catch pneumonia."

"Fine!"

Ford pushed past Bill to lead the way to the lake. He tried not to notice how Bill was trembling.

####

Maybe ten minutes passed in silence before Ford worked up the nerve to say, "You—know why we didn't tell you." It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Bill was silent for a long moment. "Of course I do." It was the closest he'd get to accepting it. "When I get my power back, I'm going to invent a very clumsy, easily startled species of bird whose feathers are scalpel blades. And then I'm unleashing a million in the shack, barricading the doors, and blowing an air horn."

Dipper grimaced. Ford muttered, "Thanks for reminding us not to feel too bad for you."

Bill let out a raw, broken laugh.

It was a very quiet hike to the edge of the lake. 

####

After spending the first half of the expedition trying to hurry Ford and Dipper up, now Bill was the anchor slowing them down. He trudged so slowly that Dipper kept having to stop to give his bracelet a little slack; but Bill kept moving, and Ford and Dipper agreed without speaking not to say anything about it.

By the time they reached the lake, the sun was just touching the rim of the mountain curling west around Gravity Falls. The water had risen so far, it flooded the roots of the trees nearest the shore. Far down the shore, distant dark dots, locals were doing cannonballs off the submerged pier, reveling in how high they could jump, how slowly they fell, and how their splashes hung suspended in the air.

Under the unusual conditions and with night coming on, Ford decided that it wasn't safe to try to set out for the cave under the falls. They'd camp on shore and start in the morning.

This, unsurprisingly, started another fight with Bill. "If we were falling behind, you should have said so, I'd have picked it up—!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to imply you were too ignorant to tell the time—"

"The time isn't the issue, I just didn't think you'd give up for the night before it's even civil twilight—!"

Dipper just found a low hill to pitch his tent on.

When Bill noticed, he broke off the argument, flung his hands in the air in defeat, and crouched by the lake to sulk and study the water. He reflexively scratched his arm, pushed up his sleeve with a frown, and read the soothsquitos' message. "'Deeth in the mourning,'" he muttered. "What's deeth? That's not a word."

Maybe they'd been trying to spell teeth, Ford thought. Why would they warn Bill about teeth?

Ford pitched his tent, he and Dipper made a fire, and they attempted to reconstitute some of Ford's dehydrated astronaut food to mixed success. Bill stayed by the lake and tried to eat the cereal he'd brought, but gagged on the second handful and decided dinner wasn't worth the effort.

As Ford cleaned up after dinner, Dipper rummaged through his backpack. "Hey, Grunkle Ford. So..." He pulled out a portable chess kit. "I brought this to Gravity Falls back when I thought this would be a normal summer and I thought we might go camping? And, well, here we are, and I guess things are kiiinda weird, but, I mean... might as well...?"

Fiord smiled wanly. "I think that's just what we need to unwind."

They unrolled Dipper's canvas chess board and took several tries to set up the pieces on the uneven surface. Ford let Dipper take white; he figured the younger and less experienced player could use the advantage of going first.

Bill wandered over with a can of cider early in the match and crouched at the edge of the firelight to watch. He had rolled his sleeves back down, tied his bow tie, and flipped up his hood, and in the dimming flickering light he looked disconcertingly like his real self. He hadn't bothered to stuff his hair into his hood, and it gave the impression that some strange golden internal organs were spilling out of a gash beneath Bill's eye.

After watching for several minutes, Bill said, "Dibs on playing the winner."

Ford and Dipper said, "No."

"Why not!"

"Because we don't like you," Dipper said.

"Oh, come on." Bill ignored Dipper, turning toward Ford. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

"I remember that you're an incorrigible cheat and made every game miserable," Ford said.

Bill reeled back. His face was hidden under the shadow of his hood, yet somehow the shadow gave off the impression of fury. He chugged half his cider, unslung his backpack, and dug around inside it. "Who wants to play against humans anyway." He unscrewed a bottle of cold medicine, topped off his cider, and poured the concoction down his throat. "Ugh. You're not even any good. Black's got mate in three and I bet neither of you can see it."

Ford and Dipper stared at the board, trying to find the looming checkmate.

Bill stood. "I'm gonna go hallucinate, pass out, and hallucinate some more. More fun than hanging out with a couple of nerdy losers playing a stupid game of..." He trudged off toward his tent, muttering to himself.

Ford concluded that Bill was probably making up the mate in three—although not confidently—and returned to the game with a sigh. "It will be nice to drop him back in the shack," he muttered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah."

Ford won—not in three moves—and they started a new game. Several minutes in, Dipper asked hesitantly, "Grunkle Ford? Do you really think the micro-rip theory...?"

Ford pursed his lips, but admitted, "Out of all the locations of concern, you could argue that the spot in the sky where the rift spent a week floating has the highest probability of sustaining lasting damage, so we still need to check. But..." He shook his head. "Based on the empirical evidence—I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Dipper's shoulders relaxed; part of him had worried questioning the Acceptable Theory would be taken as disloyalty. "Then, what do you think about Bill's...?"

Ford snorted. "'Gravitational eclipse' explanation?" He propped his chin in his hand, thinking. "I'm only certain of two things: Bill knows exactly what's going on; and he's hiding something he doesn't want us to know. Everything he's told us so far is what he wants us to think is the truth, and because of that, any of it could be lies. He hasn't given us anything we can independently verify in any way—just vague claims he expects us to take his word for and refuses to elaborate on. Even if he is telling the truth, it doesn't matter. We have to act like... not like he's lying, per se; but like what he says has no correlation with whether it's true."

And thus had been the case with everything Bill had said and done since his capture. Every power he claimed he still had, and every power he acted like he'd lost. Every bit of magical, historical, or interdimensional trivia he spouted off to make himself sound smarter. Every sweet thing he'd said to Mabel, every favor he'd offered Stan—and every time he'd told Ford he wanted to be "friends."

Dipper nodded. "Mabel says that's just how Bill talks. He doesn't care about whether what he's saying is true, he just tells you what he thinks should be true."

Ford would have to keep that in mind when talking to Bill in the future. "That girl's a wizard with Bill. Maybe she's right." Still—he had a hard time believing that figuring out what Bill was really saying had actually been that simple all along. (Maybe he just didn't want it to be that simple, after all the time he'd wasted.)

Ford glanced down at the ring the Hand Witch had gifted him. The first time she'd given it to him in the eighties, she'd told him that if the ring ever turned black, he'd chosen the wrong friends and doomed himself. He couldn't tell if it was just the firelight, but as he looked in the deep blue cabochon now, he swore he saw a swirl of black spiraling beneath the surface. He wished he knew what that meant—was he supposed to trust Bill more, or had he already absentmindedly taken something Bill had said on faith that he shouldn't have? Had that swirl first appeared only now during the eclipse, or when Ford had started studying the miniature grimoire Bill had gifted him? Was it even due to Bill? Ford hadn't studied mood-ring-o-mancy.

Dipper snuck a rook onto Ford's back row. "Checkmate."

Ford huffed. "Well done." He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even noticed Dipper lining his rook up.

Dipper pushed Ford's king over. It dramatically fell in slow motion.

They packed up the chess board, put out the campfire, and slept uneasily.

####

In spite of the sedative cold medicine, Bill couldn't get any decent sleep. It wasn't even a good trip. Every time he shut his eyes for a few minutes, he hallucinated/dreamed that he was locked back in the shack staring at the high attic ceiling, or staring silently at Soos's bedroom—or watching over the town graveyard from high above; or locked like a hunting trophy in a glass display case in some local hick's darkened den; kidnapped and tied up beneath Gideon's bed; closed in a dark airless leather box; preserved like an ancient relic in the museum; hovering above Gravity Falls' valley and trees in the still night sky —

—or petrified in the middle of a quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest. 

Or still in the tent but with his head wrenched around wrong, unable to move or feel his limbs, staring out at an angle that should have been impossible—until he awoke with lungs heaving to find his body was right and he wasn't dead; only for the humanity of his shape to reassert itself and he envied the stone corpse.

He crawled out of his tent, threw up his ill-advised concoction of cider and cold medicine, and collapsed, slipping in and out of a delirious doze until morning.

####

(I have been so looking forward to inflicting this chapter on y'all. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, and if you thought that was bad then stay tuned for things getting even worse for Bill!! 🎉)

[kinardsheart]

so i literally couldn’t get @epiphainie’s guardian angel au oit of my head. here’s their very short introduction!!

——————

If you had told Tommy from 5 hours ago that the explanation for everything in his life going wrong would come in the form of a beautiful stranger with teary big blue eyes staring at him like he just watched 8 puppies get kicked down stairs, he probably would’ve raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Might as well happen, with everything else. He would take any reason for why his life was such a fucked up mess.

Now that he was actually here… he wasn’t so sure.

The stranger stepped past him, into his apartment, and he was so taken back by the claim that had just come out of the other that no objection was made to the sudden obtrusion of his privacy. Nothing in this shitty apartment was worth anything anyways.

“Sorry? What’d you just say?”

The door slammed shut behind them.

A huff escaped through the man’s lips, forming into a pout that Tommy would’ve thought was endearing, if he hadn’t just been jumped with the possible explanation to all of his problems.

“I said that- Ugh. I’ll just start again.” He sits as if he’s never sat on a couch before, so upright it seemed as if one tap could send him flying over. “My name’s Evan Buckley. I’m your guardian angel- well.. was,” Big hands begin to fiddle with eachother, face sheepish as he continued, “Basically, I messed up. I’m really really sorry. Your files just got lost under one of my cabinets and I only just found it. I’m sorry again, I swear it wasn’t on purpose! You can punch me, I get it, I’m basically the reason your life sucks. Sorry.”

A deep breath, and those eyes were on him again.

“Yeah, so uh, my bosses saw. To say they aren’t happy is an understatement… I’m down here for a while. They want me to make up for your life being a trainwreck, which is again, totally my fault. My bad. I’m sorry.” There was a long pause. “Also, is this a cat?”

He looked down to see Biscuit, his rescue, nuzzling against the stranger’s frozen frame.

What the fuck.

[vicsbasement]

So, @pitstoptaken sent me a reply with the prompt: Them being university people. They’re not really close, just know each other from friends. But one day things happen like, a 7 minute in heaven or something. “So are you gay or bi or?” // “does it really matter?”

And this came out:

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Carlos wonders, pointing with his head towards a taller guy, one that’s leaning against the wall as he intently stares at his phone. There’s a frown on his pretty features, and Lando isn’t the one to think other men are pretty, but this guy had commanded their attention from across the room. He was pretty.

“Him? Oh, that’s Charles, isn’t it?” Lando nudges Alex with his elbow and Alex nods, smiling happily as George pets his hair. “He’s a Modern Languages student, we go to the same translation theory class.”

Carlos nods along with the explanation, but a frown takes over his face. “So, there’s nothing a guy like me could ever have in common with him, huh.” Carlos muses, and Lando nods, almost solemnly. “Except…”

George places a glass, loudly, on top of the table, and grabs a glass beer bottle and a knife, making them clink and calling the room’s attention.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” George claims, and the room erupts in equal part groans and laughter. Carlos doesn’t take his eyes off the handsome stranger, that doesn’t seem uninterested, but he couldn’t say he was on board with the idea, either.

“Volunteers can come to the kitchen floor and sit in a circle. Everyone else go back to your own conversations!” George demands, and the room erupts into laughter again, while some people move towards the kitchen.

That’s the moment the stranger looks up and catches Carlos’ stare on him. It must’ve been intense, because his expression was surprised, at first, but then, it turned… mischievous? The light wasn’t helping, though, and Carlos felt a shiver coming on when a trickle of cold sweat went down his spine at the little daring smirk the stranger was shooting his way as he, silently, walked towards George to stand directly behind him. They never broke eye contact. And Carlos tried his best to swallow around the dryness in his mouth.

Alex offered him a bottle, an eyebrow raised at him.

“You might not have to talk much with him, mate.” He joked. Carlos nodded.

Xx

Of course, George rigged the whole thing. And now Carlos is standing awkwardly in the middle of a hallway, catcalls coming from the living room, being ushered by George in the general direction of his bedroom – which of course he knows where it is, but it’s awkward, alright? – with a hand on a certain Charles Leclerc’s wrist.

Charles’ expression is almost unreadable in this light, but just judging by general feel, he doesn’t seem stiff, or nervous, he’s just an almost complete stranger that Carlos pointed out at this party. He walks quickly, still hearing the catcalls and wolf whistles, and takes a left so he can enter George’s room, closing the door behind Charles’ frame with a soft click.

“Who plays seven minutes in heaven anymore?” Charles quips, and Carlos feels caught. If he hadn’t pointed at him earlier tonight none of this would’ve happened, but now it’s too late to back out.

“It’s all George’s idea.” Carlos replies, running a nervous hand through his hair. “It was his plan to get to make out with Alex, but…”

“It landed on us, instead?” Charles wonders, and Carlos can see clearly how his eyes sparkle in the dimly lit room.

Surrounded by Lewis Hamilton posters, the whole scene isn’t how Carlos had imagined it would be, but he straightens his back, nonetheless, taking the leap to sit on the bed. At least he’s going to talk to the guy.

“What’s your name?” Charles wonders, and Carlos can’t help it, he smiles.

“I’m Carlos.” He replies. Charles shakes his head.

“You’re kidding.” Charles says, a bright smile and a soft laugh escaping him.

“No, I’m not, my name is Carlos Sainz—”

“We’re both named the same?” Charles interrupts him, and Carlos nods. He hadn’t thought about it, but there were some friends in this very college that called him Charlie, even.

“I go by Carlitos, though. You go by Charlie, right? I’ve heard Alex mention you.” Carlos says, and Charles nods. “I have some friends back home who called me Charlie, too.” Carlos admits, and Charles grins at him.

“Cats or dogs?” Charles asks him.

“Dogs.” Carlos replies, without thinking. Charles nods, agreeing with him. Then, it’s Carlos’ turn to question him.

“Do you have siblings?”

“Two brothers, I’m in the middle.”

“I’ve got two sisters and I’m in the middle, too.”

“Huh.”

“How old are you?” Carlos wonders, and Charles blushes a bright scarlet.

“I’m just shy of 21. In a month.”

“I just turned 24.”

“So you’re about to graduate?”

“Yeah, engineering. You?”

“I’m in my third year of Modern Languages.” Charles explains, and his phone pings loudly. “Actually I was checking on a group project when George called us to gather…” But he ignores the phone and sits right next to Carlos on the bed. Carlos feels the bed dip under his weight and leans towards Charles to bump his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s why you were frowning so hard.” He quips, sliding slightly closer to Charles in his movements. He didn’t seem to notice, but the next question made Carlos take pause.

“So, you were staring.” Charles says, more of a statement than a question.

“What if I was?” Carlos replies, a little defiance creeping into his tone. Charles laughs very softly, a twinkle in his eye.

“Are you straight or bi?” Charles goes right for the kill. Carlos, emboldened by the question, places a hand on Charles’ thigh.

“I’m bi. You?” He replies, clearing his throat and looking for eye contact, finding Charles’ eyes already trained on his.

“Gay.” Charles replies, almost a whisper.

“Huh.” Carlos says, inelegantly, his eyes darting towards Charles’ lips. His cupid’s bow is ridiculously charming and inviting. “Does it really matter, though? I’ve wanted to do this all night.” Carlos says, his face getting so close to Charles’ they’re sharing the same breath.

“I’ve been staring at you since you arrived.” Charles replies, his eyes trailing Carlos’ features and focusing on Carlos’ mouth as he smiles mischievously. Then, Carlos proceeds to lick his lips, and notices how Charles’ pupils start to dilate, and his eyes follow the movement.

“You’re cute.” That’s the last thing he says before he captures Charles’ mouth in his. He licks Charles’ lower lip, making him moan softly, shifting slightly on the bed to make room for Carlos to get closer, and Carlos takes the opportunity to push inside Charles’ mouth, tasting him all over. Charles is incredibly responsive, his body going pliant under Carlos’, who pushes him so he can lie on the bed. He shifts his position to lean on top of Charles, who now is lying flat on the bed’s surface.

After noticing how close Charles is to the edge of the bed, he pushes back on his knees and grabs Charles’ hips, lifting him slightly and moving him so they can both be centered, and Charles kicks off his shoes in the process. Carlos does the same and goes back to kissing Charles with abandon, but Charles takes his time, leaving soft, tantalizing bites on his lower lip, and it makes Carlos shiver.

When Charles is grabbing a fistful of hair and Carlos’ hands are roaming under Charles’ shirt, a faint knock on the door is drowned out with soft whimpers and moans as they both roll their hips together, Carlos fitting a knee between Charles’ legs and making him squirm and groan. Charles pulls at Carlos’ hair and rolls his hips once again, looking for more friction, and Carlos can’t help when a very loud moan escapes his lips.

Another knock, this time loud enough to make them pause.

“—los, the seven minutes are up!” Lando’s voice is heard behind the door, and Carlos can’t help when a petulant little moan escapes him as he leans over Charles to shield him from prying eyes in case they were to open the door.

“I heard you! Give us another second!” Carlos replies as he fixes Charles’ shirt, covering him up again. He tends to his hair, too, that got all rumpled with the pillows.

Charles giggles under him, covering his face with both hands and then using a pillow to hide his expression, but Carlos notices he’s blushing furiously.

“Hey. Charles.” Carlos says, lifting the pillow off Charles’ face and grabbing his chin so he could meet his eyes. “Do you want to go to the movies with me tomorrow night?”

Charles lets out another nervous giggle. He nods slowly, a big smile spreading across his lips and making his face light up. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

Carlos can’t help the moment he leans over again and kisses Charles, softly, tenderly, before he pushes himself off him to retrieve their shoes.

They both stand up at the same time, and as Carlos leads Charles towards the door, the other man pulls his shirt to make him turn.

“Let me fix your hair.” He mumbles, running soft fingers through the thick locks of black hair, and Carlos does everything in his power to suppress a full-body shiver. Still, unable to control himself, he pulls Charles towards him with his right arm, their chests pressed tight against each other.

“If you do that again I’m not leaving this room.” He whispers against Charles’ lips, and Charles lets out a shaky laugh before leaning in to kiss him again, Carlos reciprocating by pressing Charles against the door with a thud.

“George wants his room back!” They hear Alex shout from the other side of the door, and Carlos groans again as he is forced to break away from Charles.

“Mierda.” He curses.

Charles lets out another laugh as he turns around between Carlos’ arms and opens the door, the picture of innocence and decorum.

Until the light hits his face and his lips look bitten-red and a little sore.

[herecirmsims]

Hear The World and Family Portraits

Alright, another multipack day. I’m trying to get through my backlog of pose requests that I never released for unexplained reasons.  😆

An explanation, as you can probably see some similarities between these two: the Hear The World posepack was requested by @leyanaszoo who wanted some poses to help celebrate World Hearing Day on 3rd March. Leyana is a hearing aid professional and you can read the story she made to mark the day here , and learn more about Hear The World Foundation here.

At the same time, I had a couple of single requests for candid family portrait poses from TheeIslandSimmer (YouTube) and @themagicbluefox , as well as folk who’d seen the Hear The World family pose WIP and wanted to use it! Since the Hear The World pack is a little niche, I made a version of the family pose without the Hear The World hand gesture and also used pose 1 from HTW as a base for pose 3 in FP. I’m just explaining for transparency and because I’m compelled to overexplain things.  💀

ANYWAY. 

Hear The World | download (SFS) Family Portraits  | download (SFS) 

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc.

If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know. My poses are always free but you can support me by using the CurseForge link, or buying me a Ko-Fi if you feel extra generous - but it is absolutely NOT a requirement! Enjoy and tell your stories. <3

@ts4-poses

[luluxa]

a tiny Jance fic 🤭

I knew he was the one

“I knew he was the one,” Jan says, sneaking a glance at Nace and getting a shy smile in return.

They gloss over it quickly, just like they gloss over Jan’s claims about his ‘celebrity crush’, keeping him in check before the camera. It’s not like Jan’s about to volunteer every detail of his private life and sexual preferences but evidently, he’s being embarrassing enough. He has an excuse, though: he’s slightly tipsy and head over heels in love and it’s a dangerous combination.

Jan very pointedly doesn’t react when Nace uses Jure’s absence to change seats. He doesn’t react when the Live is over and Jure pats his back fleetingly and Bojan gives him an eyeroll.

Later, it’s his turn to go get everyone coffee and snacks and Nace tags along, very transparently, causing another wave of muffled sniggering. They probably think they’re being clever.

Outside, he throws his car key at Nace, who catches it easily and giggles to boot.

“So you knew I was the one?”

Jan shrugs, torn between defensiveness and making eyes at him. “Yeah.” The latter urge wins and as Nace stops by the car, smiling, Jan slides up to him and sneaks his palms under the coat and away from the freezing air. “After all, I am a genius.”

Nace huffs but nods readily, his soft gaze warming Jan faster than his coat. “You are. But you know, I’m not an idiot either cos I knew you were the one too.”

When they kiss, Jan feels entirely too hot from his toes to the tips of his ears and has to shift away before his palms sneak somewhere else on their own volition.

“The guys don’t know any of that, though, do they?” Nace asks once they’re in the car, raising an eyebrow at him. “You said you will tell them a month ago!”

Now Jan feels entirely defensive. “It’s an awkward conversation to have. I thought it would be easy to figure out without any explanations.”

“Apparently, we’re too sneaky. If I kissed you in front of them, would that help, you think?”

Jan makes a contemplative face. “You’d need to use your tongue and grab my ass. We’re all too casually gay with each other, that’s the problem.”

“Or we could use words,” Nace offers pointedly, sounding way too grown up and reasonable. Serves Jan right for falling in love with a pensioner.

Jan sighs. “Fine. You should kiss me and grope me anyway, though. I wanna see the reactions.”

Nace shakes his head with exasperation but doesn’t argue. Sometimes Jan wonders if he’s being treated like a silly child and if Nace will get fed up with it eventually – he is a sensible grown up after all, while Jan has never had a proper relationship, never lived with anyone, never had plans and goals and always said he wants nothing but fleeting hook ups. He wonders whether he can have a proper relationship – it seems to be going well so far, but what if he fucks it up tomorrow somehow, by holding back, or being too much, or too weird, or too infantile? Yes, he knew Nace was the one, he was ready to place his heart in Nace’s hands right there and then and trust him to keep it safe, but who said he’d be any good at holding Nace’s heart in turn?

“You want me to tell them now?” he asks quietly before they go back to the studio, Jan loaded up with the coffees and Nace holding the door open for him.

Nace eyes him for a second and Jan uses that second to get scared he will remain unaccountable. “Sure,” Nace says though and Jan nods, breathing out. He can be a grown up and use words. If he wants Nace to stay, he fucking should be grown up enough.

Jan gets more smirks and winks thrown at him behind Nace’s back and all of a sudden, instead of making him amused, it makes him annoyed as fuck, mostly at himself.

“If I could use a second of your attention,” he says before they get preoccupied with the food, causing three pairs of similarly round eyes. What do they think he’s about to say? Deny his every ambiguous phrase and every flirty glance? Jan waits for Nace to climb upstairs and gets an encouraging nod and a smile. “Nace and I are dating and have been dating since October,” he says in one breath and feels immense relief right away. It was also a lot easier than he thought.

“We are,” Nace confirms when the round eyes travel from Jan to him.

As they still gape, Jan picks up his own cup and removes a guitar from the spot he wants to sit in. “That’s it, you can drink your coffee now,” he lets them.

Before he sits down, Nace pokes his side with a pout. “No kissing though?”

“That’s just childish,” Jan informs him happily.

Coffee in one hand and guitar in the other, he lets Nace snog him thoroughly and giggles when his ass receives a firm squeeze.

[daenysx]

my last post weren't in the tags and i hope i won't have the same problem with this one or i will just sit here and cry. anyway i hope you like it!!

you can think of this more like aemond's pov, but it's still aemond x reader.

requests are open!!

my masterlist

naked & happy

prince aemond and his wife have a delighted night. nsfw.

heaven.

that's what it is.

there is no possible explanation for what he feels right now.

the bright mind of aemond targaryen is too blurry, everything feels too much, it feels like the safest place he's ever been in.

he looks at his wife. his pretty lady wife, on top of him, torturing him with that beautiful cunt of hers, capturing him between her legs, leaving him wanting more.

her locks are free of hair pins, dancing around her face and body looking like an angel free of her restraints. she is completely naked, aemond can see the stars in the sky from the open window behind her. chilled air of a summer night fills the room, maybe she is cold but she doesn't care, does she? no, she is too busy riding her husband in a way that makes him go feral for her.

it's like riding a dragon, aemond thinks. he is beneath her, under the control of her. she can do anything and he would say thank you. he would obey her until all she can say is his name. her movements are strong, he can feel her nails on his chest. he doesn't mind any more scars, she can claim him anyway she wants.

the tip of his cock hits the rough spot in her. that she find, he thinks. he is sensitive but it's fine now that he knows he can satisfy her even better.

her noises increase, she gets wetter, perfect and wanting. his princess demands her pleasure and he would give her everything. everything she wants. he would burn the entire realm with his dragon for a tear of hers.

"oh, like this. i want you like this, my prince. my sweet, sweet prince."

he makes a noise then, maybe it's a desperate one. he is too drunk on his pleasure and the sensation he feels on his cock. the tip of him still hits her sweet spot and she squeezes him with all her strength. he feels the blood rush towards his cock only to use it more for her desires.

he can feel himself getting close. he will give his seed to her and maybe the gods would do a favor for a desperate man like him. a man who wants nothing more than having an heir with his lady.

"my love, i will-"

she leans into his lips to press a rushed kiss. her body still moves and aemond feels her hardened nipples on his bare chest right now. she is perfect, soft and sweet for him. he could die here and he would be grateful.

she straightens her back, and closes her eyes. her noises are too much, everything is too much. she arches her back and traps his cock in her cunt for one last time, it's the most perfect one ever. she makes him come as well, because how can he stay still or calm when his lady comes on top of him?

aemond's peak hits him like the waves of ocean. he forgets everything other than her name. his muscles clench, his breathing slows down for a moment, and his hands desperately holds onto her waist. he feels his cock soften, he doesn't even know how many minutes passed.

he stays inside of her. she looks flushed and calm. her entire body melts to him and he holds her immediately. he forces his arms for a strong hold, enough to lay her on bed next to him.

"would you like to stay like this for a moment, my love?"

she nods, always eager to please him. his cock is still inside her when they try to catch their breathes. they stay still, as long as they want. the world outside is long forgotten, he doesn't give a shit about his duties now.

then his favorite part begins. she starts pressing kisses to his face, his neck, and his chest. he lets her move as he pulls himself out of her. she uses her lovely lips to ease off his worries. she massages his shoulders, his neck, and anywhere she can find.

all she wants is to free him of being tense.

he kisses her too with all the love he has for her. this chamber belongs to their sessions of loving and fucking each other. all of it belongs to them and they don't have to pretend. they can do anything they want here and no one would be here to judge.

he wants her to have more. he wants to have more of her sweet releases. it never feels enough. he needs time to be ready for her again but that doesn't mean he can't give her one more.

he helps her, now she's under him. he notices her slow movements and it makes him realize that she is sore. she gives him a reassuring smile when she sees the worried look in his eye.

he kisses her entire chest, her nipples, and the sensitive flesh of her breasts. she makes little noises for him filled with encouragement. he keeps going, all he wants is her pleasure.

he softly holds her thighs, keeping them apart. she is still wet and her legs feel achy. he leans into her, kisses between her legs. her glistening cunt, her little bud. it's swollen with need as he keeps moving.

he loves giving her pleasure with his mouth, he always had. his brain is more clear now, focused on his task. he toys with her bud, sucks it slightly then adds more pressure.

his hands rub her thighs with comforting fingers. his hands are strong. he is always strong. she is sure the moment she comes he will hold her.

"aemond, aemond, oh, aemond!"

it doesn't take long. she comes from the pressure he perfectly applies to her sweet bud. she relaxes and her body melts once more for him.

he kisses her adoringly, she smiles into his kiss. he holds her close to his chest, plays with her beautiful hair. they stay silent for a few stolen minutes.

she leaves the bed for a moment, to bring two cups of wine to the bed. her naked frame walks gracefully as she reaches the table. he watches and he admires just like he always does when he allows himself to think sinful moments of her.

she comes back to bed with wine and he takes his wine with a appreciative kiss on her hand. the wind makes its presence known in the room and it gets cold, aemond is worried.

"you will be cold, my love. get under the covers and i will close the window."

he does as he told and joins her a moment later. his wife's lips glow with the perfect shade of red and he can't help but kiss the wine off her lips. she smiles gratefully and she looks more beautiful than ever.

they talk, and talk, and talk. he tells her everything, every worry he has, every little moment he wants her to know. she amuses him with stupid, pointless gossips talked in court when she feels him tense. she doesn't let him be nervous. she says her own ideas and he is relieved to know he has someone by his side.

they share a peaceful moment in the middle of the night, wine in their hands, naked and happy. that's all he wants, all he desires when he has to attend those council meetings.

he loves her too much, it's not enough.

he wants her closer and closer. until all he can breathe is her scent.

he loves the way she is always the one who supports him.

they spend their night talking, touching each other, drinking wine, and sleeping finally.

when the sun shines again, he looks at her sleeping frame, already missing her without even leaving the chambers.

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

About Kirbypurrs:

Recently, they made a post talking about a targeted smear campaign against them. As someone who used to be a close friend of theirs, I wanted to share my experiences.

On the surface they're certainly charismatic and easy to talk to, but they've never been able to hold down any relationship deeper than that due to their own faults. In all the time I've known them personally, they've shown to be nothing but an incredibly self-absorbed, toxic, and manipulative person who is unable to accept fault or responsibility for a situation they caused or got wrapped into of their own volition. Time and time again I've given them chances and chances and tried to reach out to them and be understanding and thought the best of them only to be let down by them as a friend and told, actually, I'm the problem, no matter what that situation is. If you try to come up to them about a concern, or tell them you they shouldn't do whatever thing, they will apologize to your face, but in reality, they'll always claim it was a You problem. For example, one time Purrs broke a preestablished rule of our friend group chat. We had that rule written down and put in pins, even. When I told them to stop, they made it out to be me "not letting them speak when something bad happened to them again" and that I was being mean to them by telling them to stop in the first place. This is the kind of person Purrs is. They never apologized about their actions and still think that I wronged them to this day.

Purrs claims that no one has ever come up to them telling them what the issue is. This is BLATANTLY untrue. It is a long, long pattern spanning many years with them that they will avoid confrontation at any costs, even if that confrontation is as simple as a "hey, could you not do this?". They have ghosted people for coming up to them about concerns, and will often dodge around the concern in the first place. Purrs if you're reading this, I have personally tried to reach out to you about concerns only for you to say "I would tell you if I had a problem with you" and then go to the extent of leaving voice chats when I join, softblocking me from your priv, and actively avoiding me wherever I am, without warning or explanation, all for having the audacity to ask you if there was an issue in the first place. And I am not the first person you have done this to, by far. I have personally witnessed you do this to another person not including me, just in the slightly more than a year we were friends. I have spoken to people who were friends with you years before I was friends with you who had the same experience. You have told us stories of how "overbearing" and "clingy" others have been in the past for daring to constantly ask if you had an issue with them due to your poor treatment of them. And despite your claimed "I would tell you if I had a problem with you" attitude, I personally have seen you actively avoid Another two people when they tried to be friendly with you, only for you to shittalk them to absolute hell in our friend group chat about things they could never have known were rubbing you the wrong way, or about things that were, quite frankly, stupid of you to make their fault anyways. Remember that time you got mad at someone because their headcanons were getting more attention than yours? Remember that time you hated someone's guts and ranted about them on multiple occasions in our group chat because you were upset they didn't use tone tags, and then when I said "You should tell them you need tone tags" you got pissed at me instead for not letting you vent? Good times /s

Purrs does not care about fixing problems any problems they cause. They are one of the most hypocritical people I have ever known. If you ever try to act like everything is anything but rainbows and sunshine, they will distance yourself from you and shittalk you behind your back before you even realize. They are the one that will make all these false and exaggerated claims about others. I have witnessed it again and again over situations I was there for, even. Again Purrs, if you are reading this, despite what you think and what you keep telling people, I'm not the reason this supposed smear campaign of yours has come up again. Everyone who speaks ill of you does so because of their own experiences with you. Everyone who I have spoken to about you did not have their opinion changed because of me; those were always their experiences from the start. I just made them realize that this has always been a pattern with you. I'm not going to say that I have never been in the wrong ever, and there are times I genuinely believe you've been unfairly treated and gotten the short end of the stick, but overall in this situation, I know that I am in the right due to the sheer amount of people you've fucked over the exact same way you have me. You are a shitty friend and a shitty person. I cannot express the countless amount of people you have fucked up badly by betraying our trust. It would do everyone well to stay away from you.

To anyone else who has had bad experiences with Purrs, I encourage you to state them on my post. Their behavior has always been a trend, but for the most part, everyone affected has been courteous enough to keep it in the private space. I am done with them playing the victim and I am done with others being hurt by them.

[lana7779]

PH month prompt: In the City of Dust

@phmonth @i-prefer-the-term-antihero @this-idiots-left-eye

A bit of an explanation behind this for those interested.

This is just a plot bunny that came to me when I was thinking of an ending for my Ot3 fic. I'm still not sure how I feel about it entirely because it would be tough to write, but the prompt was easy enough to draw to bring my vision across.

So you know how Xerx made that promise to the Intention that he would destroy her? Well... what if he was capable of fulfilling that promise?

The idea is that once the ot3 gets together and establishes their love for each other, they still have to deal with Break's body giving out. And the only way to stop that would be to destroy the Intention, and if there is no Intention, there is no Mad Hatter. And since they're all down there anyway and the Abyss returns to its former glory, why not have them all stay down there and live happily ever after together?

I figured, since I have this burning headcanon that Gil, Vince and Break really don't belong to the current time-line, they wouldn't care about leaving it behind, especially if as long as they have each other, they can be happy. And if the former golden Abyss is as amazing as it was claimed to be, I like to imagine that they could just be happy there.

So anyways, to get there, they'd probably need to go through Sablier much like it happened canonically at the end, and once in the Abyss and facing off against the Intention, the dust from city could start getting mixed up in everything , and hence... In the City of Dust! ✨️

[bcacstuff]

Ok so my take is it's some kind of meeting, interview, getting to know you, whatever you wanna call it. His body language is screaming I'm here I'm listening like he does in interviews, the focused look down, his phone on the table suggests not a date at all he usually has it in his jeans pocket, she has a laptop or something in front of her which idk any date that brings that. This could've been right at the start, no drinks on the table. Still acquainting with each other.

She's not dressed as a young girl in LA on a first or second date, their legs are also not touching as another blogger is trying to suggest, he's actually clearly keeping his away from hers by crossing his legs, and just because that trash site posted she's identified but not public person means nothing. They clearly state they don't post all actual facts. It's whatever people send them. Could be someone said it to stir up more discussion. Honestly everything lately from him has felt like a scream for attention. For a bit of discussion about him. To make him seem a little more important than he is. Even the cinema post. Who on earth would randomly spot him if not organised by publicity??? This entire LA trip has felt like all PR. And maybe she's an interviewer who doesn't want to be put out there maybe they aren't gonna throw her under the bus but want people talking (when I say they I mean Sam's PR people)

You know Anon, I just sit here and most of the time shake my head over all the Anons in my inbox as well as all the 'suggestions' and 'maybes' in the comments.

People jumping to conclusions, people saying things they read somewhere else and make it sound like it is already a fact...

Seriously, where one sees he's smiling and having a good time with 'his date' the next one is claiming their legs are close together and people that do business or have an interview don't sit that close together... the other side sees nothing romantic and it must be business or an interview. And people get all worked up...

I just had my laughs last night, when the pic was posted by DM. Firstly because obviously no flight to catch after his TCA appearance as some blogger claimed she knew from her 'sources'... and I don't see that blogger addressing that in her next posts!

Secondly, all the ones claiming he was sitting behind Ashley in Washington at the rugby game. Do people fail to see how that SS cap was clearly photoshopped on the woman's head? 🤦‍♀️

And when I post he's still in LA, I get a shitload of Anons saying how would I know, well... because I use logic. Plain and simply logic. If I post things, I checked things, otherwise I wouldn't post it. But it seems some people are so terribly suspicious that they need evidence and proof for all, yet at the same time they seem to believe everything posted elsewhere without any shred of evidence.... even the weirdest narrative is taken for granted, rather than wait and see if there wil be more info, and if not so what, do we always need some explanation for everything? Or can we live with, we don't need to know every bloody detail? Oh and btw. he's still in LA today, so the ones claiming he's back in Glasgow... without any evidence and logic, sorry.... stop throwing things out there you would like to see, just see what really happens. You just get embarrassed all the time that when more details and facts surface.

Anyway, back to your summary of events. I agree, it looks like they just arrived, given there are no drinks on the table, just the 'fancy chips' they serve at that Beach restaurant at Shutters on the Beach.

No drinks (yet) on the table, or anything else for that matter, just his sunnies, his phone in front of him and in front of her something that looks like a tablet or laptop

So yes, I agree, if that is a laptop or tablet, that's not what you would bring a date. It gives me a bit the idea of the pics in NYC with the journo of Departures.

But then again, we do not know who the woman is. And there is no easy way to find out, as to me, she looks like millions of other blonde women. That said, the names now thrown out thus far, I don't think any of them match. And to the Anon thinking Ava as she was at the screening of Cinespia as well, please, the woman has tattoos all over her arms...

The pics are quite clear though, so it suggests someone close by took them, not even grainy or vague. Would they not have seen that a pic was taken? 🤷‍♀️

And as long as there are no other details known, I just keep all options open. I can lean more to one or another option, but I rather wait and see if there will be more known in the future. (just see how we found out about Lauren in NYC a year later!)

So that's what I do right now. If you want to do else, have a firm opinion about something, that's totally on you. What I do care for is that you don't come to me later on claiming I said this or that, or another blogger said this or that. I wont entertain that.

PS. I don't like to post the same things over and over again, when there is nothing new or more info about it. So don't expect countless posts about the woman, about who he was with at the screening on Saturday. If I find anything more, you always know I post it with the proof.

[she-her-cuntboy]

Fantasizing about having a cis boyfriend who talks me into kinkier and kinkier sex, secretly laying the foundations to start detransitioning me. When I realize, im scared, and I go to a friend to talk about my worries. He's trans like me, and agrees that it might be something to keep an eye on, but give him another chance - maybe it has an innocent explanation, and he's not trying to detrans me. Maybe im projecting my own kinks - when's the last time I had sex that wasn't catered to a cis penis? He convinces me to have sex with him, casually, as friends, we've known each other a long time and used to mess around sometimes before I met my boyfriend. It feels so good, but the whole time I feel guilty - what if my boyfriend sees it as cheating? We haven't talked about exclusiveness, and I tend to lean towards polyamory, but if he's monogamous I wouldn't want to do this behind his back. So the moment I come home to him, I break down and confess tearfully.

He listens gravely, and carefully keeps his expression neutral, but I can tell he's hurt. He asks who it was with, and I tell him - he knows my friends. "Oh!" he says. "That's fine, babydoll. Well, I mean- I would have preferred we talked about it before, so I'm honestly still a little hurt, sweetheart... but I don't have an issue with you, uh, having sex or whatever with other people, as long as it's not another real- I mean cis man." I eagerly agree to his boundaries, and reassure him that I've never been into other cis men and he's the exception, the love of my life. I easily ignore his awkward wording - he's not as familiar with queer terminology and talking about sex can be a little weird to put into words anyway.

What he's carefully avoiding scaring me off with is his true opinion that he's slowly going to acclimate me to, which is that queer "sex" doesn't count without a cis man's penis. It's not cheating if it's two transmen, because that's just lesbian sex and there's no real man claiming his property. He thinks it's cute when I call ftm4mtf "straight sex" as if I'm a boy, because he knows my tgirl friend is still penetrating my needy submissive pussy. And eventually, I start to question my gender, especially in the bedroom. My boyfriend is always so much more affectionate and into it when he's feeling up my curvy body, and he loves when I act like a girl. I tentatively break the subject with my ftm friend who I talked to at first, and he's very accepting of my "gender weirdness", and respects my request to be treated like a girl in the bedroom, and then anywhere private, and then in public. We spend a lot of time together, talking about sex and kinks, and he's naturally empathetic and seems really touched when I talk about how good it feels to be a good girl for a real man. I'm barely aware of how convincing I'm being, because I don't know the sappy playlists my boyfriend makes me are full of subconscious conditioning and affirmations behind the music - good girls make more good girls. I'm a good girl. Good girls need cock in their cunts. My needy cunt makes me a girl. Brains are for boys and my thoughts are just noise. Good girls make more good girls.

Eventually my boyfriend is my husband, I'm his favorite submissive housewife, and all my old "trans" and "lesbian" friends are playthings for his entertainment. We love having lesbian sex and putting on a show to earn his cum, and I dont remember any reality other than this, or any reason I wouldn't want to be right where I am.

[asbealthgn]

okay I keep seeing posts about steve dying in season 5 and I simply do not claim that energy BUT it got me thinking about what would happen if he did? and uuuh this lil baby ficlet about steve and eddie in the afterlife happened

———

Steve opens his eyes and there’s no monsters, no Upside Down, no Robin or Nancy or Dustin. There’s just the soft sound of water lapping against wooden boards, filtered afternoon light, and the dusty interior of Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

The hell?

“Good to see you again, Harrington.”

Steve sits up so fast that he would normally see stars at the edges of his vision. Guess being dead means that doesn’t happen anymore. Eddie Munson is leaning back against the wall, smoking a cigarette and grinning at him.

“What are—why—” Steve takes a breath and tries to gather his thoughts, because there are too many questions swirling around his head that he wants to ask. “Why am I here?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Here, like, in the afterlife?” he asks, “I hate to break it to you, man, but you kinda died.”

“Yeah, no, I got that,” Steve says, “I mean, why here? In the boathouse?” If the afterlife is just this shitty little wooden structure he’s gonna be so mad.

But Eddie just shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine, dude,” he says, “When I kicked it, I woke up in my chair at Hellfire. I think it’s supposed to be some place that was significant to you before you died.”

Significant. What’s significant about this place over any other place in Steve’s life? Unless… No. That’s ridiculous. 

“Was anyone there?” Steve asked. 

Eddie gets a sort of sad look on his face. “My mom,” he says, “She died when I was little.” But then his face brightens again. “She’s here! Not, like, here, in this moment, but around. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.”

“That’s really nice,” Steve says. He wonders how it happened that Eddie is his welcome wagon to the Great Beyond. Probably because the only people Steve’s really lost have been distant family he never knew that well. Eddie was the first person whose death cut him right to the core. 

Eddie pushes off the wall and crosses over to Steve, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “It’s so weird to talk about her,” Eddie says, “Because I’m so used to being sad about her being dead. But now so am I, and I’m getting to see her.”

“Where did your mom wake up, when she died?” Steve asks, wondering if maybe that’s too nosy of a question. 

“She said it was the little café down the road from our old apartment,” Eddie says. “She always loved it ‘cause it got so much sun.”

The image makes Steve smile. He imagines Eddie sitting on a woman’s lap in a big, sunny window, watching people pass by outside. “So is that what the afterlife is?” he asks, “Just a whole bunch of places from our lives?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it all out,” he says, “I haven’t been dead that long, and anyway, time is funny here. I’ve explored a little, but there’s a lot to see. Mainly I’m trying to find some door that’ll let me go back to earth, because there are some people I would love to haunt the shit out of.”

Steve laughs. He could get behind that. Eddie reaches out and pokes him in the knee.

“So what makes the boathouse significant to you?” he asks, “I’ll be honest, I figured it would be, like, your house or something. I didn’t think you even knew Reefer Rick.”

“No, I didn’t,” Steve says, “The only time I’ve ever been here were those couple times with you.”

“So why…?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, waiting for some sort of explanation that would make Steve waking up in the afterlife in a place he’d spent a grand total of maybe two hours in make sense. 

The only answer Steve can come up with is pretty embarrassing. He lets his eyes drift to the wall, the spot where Eddie had him pinned with that broken bottle. With everything else going on, he’d barely even had time to acknowledge that all of that had made him feel some very confusing things, because they had to rush off and help Max and kill Vecna and then try to kill him again when the first time didn’t stick. Steve hadn’t taken the time to muddle through why he felt so much every time Eddie grinned at him or touched him or called him big boy. Then Eddie had died, and it didn’t matter anyway, because nothing could ever become of it. 

Except now Steve’s dead too. And Eddie’s here.

“Uh,” Steve says, stalling for time. Eddie follows his gaze over to the wall and then looks back at Steve.

“What’re you lookin’ at, big boy?” he asks. 

And fuck, who knew blushing was possible in the afterlife? Steve meets Eddie’s eyes that are so dark in the shadows of the boathouse but that he’s seen glow gold in the sunlight. Something crosses over Eddie’s face and it’s like he knows what Steve’s thinking. He opens his mouth and starts to speak. “Steve—”

“D’you wanna go out sometime?” Steve blurts. He’s already dead; might as well take some risks, right?

Eddie laughs and Steve doesn’t know if it’s a good laugh or a bad laugh. But then he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand. “Yeah, I do,” he says, “I’ll be honest, I haven’t really come across any good date spots in the afterlife yet, but I’m sure they’re out there.”

Steve stands, pulling Eddie up with him. He looks at Eddie’s face, his eyes that are sparkling even in the shadows, his smile that has been so inviting from the very first second Steve saw it. “Bet we can find something,” he murmurs.

Grinning, Eddie pulls him over to the door and grabs the handle. “C’mon then, big boy,” he says, “Let’s explore.”