#i think ford would TRY to be good to shifty

[korovaoverlook]

fiddleford has very unusual letter openers

[unculturedmamoswine]

Happy Forduary! For Week One's theme, Family, I wrote some dad Ford with baby Shifty! Technically a prequel to a fic of mine but you don't need to read that to understand this. Just know that Shifty is a good boy who does NOT want to murder anybody in this AU.

Maybe Fiddleford was right, and he was being overly indulgent, Ford considered. Maybe he was anthropomorphizing this thing a little too much to be entirely healthy. Certainly he was losing some measure of objectivity, he could admit that to himself.

“Come on,” he told the blob on his kitchen table. He tapped a cereal bowl in front of it to catch its attention. His (the creature’s) eyes tracked the motion. “Just yesterday you turned into this bowl. Can you remember?”

It looked up at him, blinking, then quivered and became a perfect replica of the cheap bowl.

“Yes! Look at that,” Ford said to Fiddleford, who sat back in his chair, hands held off the table as if the shapeshifter would pounce on them the instant they came near. “As long as whatever I want him to become is no more than the mass he usually possesses, nothing fazes him!”

Ford held the real bowl and the shapeshifter in each hand. They were identically cool, of identical weights, and the shapeshifted bowl even had the same chip on the rim, showing white against the blue of the ceramic. Ford, grinning, feeling oddly triumphant, held the imitation bowl up to his face. “Well done!” he told it.

“You know,” Fiddleford began gently, “you oughtn’t talk to it like that. We don’t got no clue of what that thing is or what it could do. It could become anything for all we know.”

“In four days he’s never become anything more dangerous than a hot cup of coffee.” Ford wanted to roll his eyes, but Fiddleford did have good reason to be wary of unknown organisms after his encounter with the gremloblin. Ford was trying to be understanding. “You aren’t dangerous, are you, Shifty?” he asked the bowl, which promptly turned back into its default, gooey, insect-like shape. Ford set the real bowl down and rubbed Shifty’s head. The little creature rubbed back, burbling.

Fiddleford squawked. “Ford! You can’t name the thing! Even if you’re baselessly convinced it won’t kill us both, it ain’t in the least professional!”

“I’m hardly the first researcher to name my subject,” said Ford defensively. “And I’m taking notes!” He gestured at the notebook on the table. “Besides, he needs a name. It’s practical.”

“Alrighty.” Fiddleford stood up, taking his lab coat from the back of his chair and putting it on. “I won’t argue with you about it. Today, anyway.” He scratched at his chin. “Think I might head home, turn in early. Call Emma-May, talk to Tater.” He grinned at Ford, but it seemed strained. He was tired. Fiddleford had been unfocused and weary lately, nervous and unhappy with everything. “You have fun with that…fella. Whose sex, I’d like to remind you, we don’t even know.”

“Alright.” Ford moved the shapeshifter to the crook of his arm, standing to clap Fiddleford on the shoulder. “Get some rest. Take the weekend, Fiddleford. I’ll see if I can make any progress with the mystery of this little guy!” 

As Fiddleford waved and walked out of the kitchen, shaking his head, Ford looked down at the little creature (extraterrestrial life form? Extrauniversal life form? Just a weird bug?) and asked him, “What do you think? Are you mysterious?”

In a blink, Shifty turned into a hand, which gave a vigorous thumbs down. Ford laughed in surprise.

“Impressive! High six!” It slapped his palm. “Hmm.” Ford turned Shifty over in his own hand. It was his own hand. The shapeshifter had used Ford’s hand for a model. High six, indeed. “Well, then. Not mysterious at all, you say? An open book?” he teased, guessing what to expect.

Sure enough, the rascal instantly fell open in Ford’s hands in the form of Ford’s own journal. Ford chuckled, then frowned thoughtfully. “Hmm. Perhaps I was wrong about your shapeshifting being limited by your mass. Surely my journal is more massive than you in your true form, if you’ll excuse the assumption, my boy. Do you think your little gooey self is your true form?” The pages of the journal turned restlessly back and forth as if wind-tossed. Ford noticed they were blank. Perhaps he couldn’t mimic writing?

“Well,” he said quickly. “That’s alright. You can be whatever you want to be! Literally! Now, what do you say to a walk in the woods? You might spy an interesting new form to try. And I could use a chance to stretch my legs.”

A mouse scurried up Ford’s arm to perch on his shoulder. It squeaked and stuck its nose in his ear. “I hope you didn’t see that form in the house,” Ford said.

-

Ford breathed deeply as he stepped into the trees with Shifty, crunching over twigs and feeling the softness of centuries of decay under his boots. “Perfect weather for a walk, don’t you think?” 

The mellow warmth of the day loosened its grip even more as he and Shifty walked deeper into the trees. Ford talked as he walked, pointing out items of interest to Shifty. If he was an alien, Ford wondered if they had forests on his world. He wondered if Shifty would ever see them for himself. How long had that egg been in the ground? Perhaps he was entirely alone in the universe, a species of one.

After a little over an hour, Ford sat on a log generously coated in moss, enjoying the sounds of the forest. Shifty explored, scurrying up and down their log and onto the ground in front of them. He never strayed far, frequently returning to Ford for some unknown reason. He approached, inspected, and briefly became a fallen branch covered in lichen. Then he turned back into a mouse, sniffed at the branch, and bit the lichen.

“Hungry?” Ford asked, curious. He hadn’t been able to tempt the shapeshifter with any food at all so far. All Ford had seen him eat was the shell of the egg from which he’d hatched.

Shifty tossed his head viciously, making no impact whatsoever on the lichen in his mouth. “Um, do you need help?” Ford offered. Shifty let go of the lichen, squeaked loudly and repeatedly, then swiftly changed until he was a beetle at least a foot long. He tore a mouthful of lichen from the branch with his jaws and scurried back to Ford, who automatically reached down to pick him up.

Once on Ford’s lap, the colossal insect jerked his prize toward Ford. Ford hesitated, then took it from him when Shifty tossed his head again.

“Thank you,” he said. “But I’m not hungry right now.”

Shifty stomped his many legs and spun in several circles while gnashing his mandibles, seemingly frustrated. He resumed his usual form, stretching his body, clearly reaching for the lichen. Ford gave it to him, bemused. Shifty rocked from side to side, emitting a soft, high whistling sound Ford hadn’t heard him make before. It was a long, sustained noise that made Ford grit his teeth. Just when Ford was about to– well he wasn’t certain what, but something, the sound resolved itself into something else entirely.

“What.”

Ford blinked. He looked around for the source of the voice, then snatched Shifty up from his lap, holding him at eye level. Surely he’d misheard. “What?” Ford demanded. Shifty waggled the chunk of lichen at him.

“What,” he repeated. “What. What?”

“Oh, my…” Ford breathed. “You– spoke. That was speech.” Ford leaped to his feet. His heart was pounding. To say he was shocked would be a gross understatement. He’d always (well, in the few days since his hatching) spoken to Shifty as if the little thing could understand him, and he was clearly intelligent, responding in his own way, but this was nothing Ford had expected.

Shifty squirmed slightly in his grip, blinking his huge red eyes at Ford. He should have been repulsive, Ford thought, a bit numbly. His usual form was squishy, pale, with pointed limbs and sharp teeth spaced widely around his gaping mouth. He shouldn’t have been able to be cute.

“What?” Shifty repeated again.

“It’s, it’s a lichen. This?” Ford asked, just to be certain. He poked at the stuff, hanging from Shifty’s mouth. Shifty bounced excitedly. “It’s oakmoss. Neither moss nor, in this case, living on an oak.” Ford laughed, maybe a little hysterically. “It resembles a plant but isn’t one. It’s actually quite interesting; a lichen isn’t an organism unto itself, really. It’s a composite of an algae and a fungus.” “Hmm,” said Shifty in a small voice, turning again into Ford’s disembodied hand and feeling the oakmoss between his fingers.

“Incredible,” Ford murmured. When Shifty looked up at him by raising two fingers as if pointing at Ford, he added, “It’s a nice sample. If you’d like, we can take it back to the lab. We can compare it to the lichens in some of my books. How does that sound?” Shifty gave him a thumb’s up.

“Wonderful! I didn’t realize you had such a keen scientific mind! But you’re a smart boy, Shifty.” He patted Shifty’s back and started toward home, picking his way through the towering firs.

Afternoon was drifting into evening by the time Ford made it through his front door. He looked down at Shifty, grinning. At some point on their way home, he’d fallen asleep against Ford’s chest, his prize still clutched in his fist.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

cracks knuckles. so, been just trying to gauge overall reception with this, but what are your thoughts on the fan made return to the bunker episode? i’ve noticed glowing reviews from people who vaguely describe it—hit the character vibes right, jokes were cool, i liked the art, etc, but scathing ones from people who go more into detail—stan would never be this explicit in his desperation, ford was never this outcast or terrified of himself/others nor did he consider dipper as below, the entire thing was misogynistic, etc. so, what’s your opinion?

i did say i wasnt going to talk/reblog anymore posts about return to the bunker, but ill answer this anyway

i feel its kind of important to say right off the bat that i never finished the episode and i certainly dont intend to. i never even got to one of the b plot scenes with stan and dipper. i stopped around the bit where they got into the bunker and ford started trying to warn them about the shapeshifter. the clearly-not-ford-ness radiating off of 'ford' was too much to ignore and i couldnt finish it

anyway- what was good about the episode? well, the art and voice acting, for sure. during the first part, it also seemed like they had gotten the characters down pretty well and i thought some of the jokes were good.

in the first part.

and then mabel comes in. this is around the time real ford goes missing and fake ford shows up. no there arent two fords in the actual episode, its just that the difference between them is stark enough that theyre completely separate entities in my mind. anyway

i noticed that the sweater thing was weird to a lot of people. glad im not the only one that was extremely confused by the guy wearing a sweater saying it was too hot to wear a sweater. maybe it was meant to be a joke? it really just came off as ford trying to make excuses not to wear mabel's sweater.

which- its not like him not wanting to wear the sweater cant coexist with him liking mabel. maybe its a situation where he doesnt want her to see all his scars, or maybe he doesnt want it to get ruined when he goes to beat the shit out of the hawktopus (since yknow that was kinda the whole point of him being outside)

the point im trying to make here is that it really seems like the episode is just trying to paint ford as unreasonable and not liking mabel. speaking of which-

the way ford treats mabel is uncharacteristic. the first time we ever see ford smile in the show is when he's meeting mabel. he literally says 'i like this kid, she weird!', why are we acting like he doesnt like her?? genuinely confused. who looks at the way he was treating her in the episode and goes 'yeah fords just like that'?

sorry, anyway, last thing i have to say-

the entire bit where theyre making their way through the bunker struck me as a bit odd. it sorta felt like the episode was trying to make a joke out of ford and his wariness about the place? hes trying to guide mabel and some other kids he barely knows through the place, theyre rushing ahead (which cant be good for his paranoia), and for some reason when theyre getting close to shifty and hes trying to warn them its framed as him being melodramatic?

shifty locked his friend in a cabinet and pretended to be said friend so it could catch a look at the creatures in ford's journal and start transforming into them. i think hes allowed to be a bit cautious/afraid about meeting shifty again

and some bonus stuff ive heard about below:

ive heard that ford wipes their memories with the memory gun. he was a victim of it (implied or directly stated multiple times- who wants to bet hes got brain damage from that?) and he struggled so much to use it on stan in a situation where it was necessary to keep the world from ending. no, theres no way ford could just hit them with it like that

ive also heard fiddleford shows up and ford is weirdly antagonistic to him? 'im sorry fiddleford' is a phrase running through ford's mind on the constant for over thirty years and his first reaction to seeing fiddleford again is to apologize to him and assume he hates him. according to the journal, he actually mentioned to everyone else in the shack that he was wondering what happened to fiddleford. its implied he did that several times.

i dont have anything else to say and i dont know how to end this so. thats all. thank you for the ask and sorry if anything i said here sounded aggressive at all. not my intention.

uh moral of the story: i didnt like it :(

[sxrrandomfanfics]

Aquato Interactions (Family Swap AU)

[First post] [Second post] [Third post] [Fourth post] [Fifth post] [Sixth post] [Seventh post] [Eighth post]

Practically screaming at how excited I am with this. The Aquato family are all Psychics (though Donatella is a weaker, "non-legacy" psychic) and they are in charge of the Motherlobe. How couldn't they be? Lucrecia Mux and her second husband, Ford, were original parts of the Psychic Six!

The Aquatos are also doing their best to live up to the name.

Frazie Aquato: I've already talked about her interactions with Lili as an intern, but here's a little bit more if you decide to interact with her when she's around her family instead of her peers. Frazie is slightly paranoid around Lili. I mean, a non-legacy psychic who is good at herbaphony and herbokinesis? When they're trying to fight someone who's bringing back Hellebore? Very suspicious. Frazie can be seen sometimes whispering to the other Aquatos when they're not around Raz, but she's able to save face and tell Lili a simple lie: "Family Business. We're trying to figure out Raz's next birthday present, since he usually tries to get things he wants before other people can give it to him."

Donatella Aquato: Oh the matriarch of the Aquato family. She still has some issue with Raz being the runaway son. The one who's usually going around the Motherlobe and helping Otto Mentallis or Sasha Nein. She wishes that he would take his training as a Psychonaut a little more seriously, but becomes lenient during the time that Augustus is out of commission. She is very wary of this new kid, but her darling "Pootie" has a crush on her and she supposedly helped rescue Augustus from the Rhombus of Ruin. Donatella gives her a little bit of special treatment and tells Hollis that she has a new intern. Lili is very intimidated by her and has trouble talking to her, or Raz when Dona is trying to cheer him up.

Dion Aquato: Normally, Dion (the good big brother he is) is with Razputin or Mirtala and Queepie. They need someone to comfort them while his mother's pulling double-duty and father is... asleep. His interactions with Lili are quite wholesome before he talks to Frazie. He brightens up and asks: "Is this the Lili Zanotto? You know, we overheard him telling our dad about you on the call. Looks like all the Aquatos have a type!" And he's ready to accept her the same way the other Aquatos accepted the older kids girlfriends. Of course... as the story goes on and Lili's shiftiness is caught on by the other agents Dion becomes much colder to her. The final words that Dion says to her before Lili goes into Green Needle Gulch is: "Stay away from Razputin."

Raz Aquato: Raz is a lot less isolated than canon!Lili is. He's usually with family, either doing tricks or helping them cope as they are left without their father. So Lili can't really interact with Raz as confidently as she could in the previous installments. It fills her with loneliness because she doesn't have her family with her, she ran away from her family to join the Psychics.

Mirtala Aquato: Mirtala is smitten with Lili. She thinks Lili looks cool and wishes she would hang around more. When she sees Lili grow some vines to climb to get to an area in the lower quarry, Mirtala mentions that plants need water to survive. Lili merely shrugs and states sometimes a helping hand is all someone needs, and it comes in many forms. There are some side quests that Mirtala gives to Lili that are usually just excuses to get something from her.

Queepie Aquato: Queepie's way too tied up with his family to really care about Lili. He's worried about his dad and wants to be near him, and he usually clings to his other siblings because of it. He doesn't know Lili as well as he knows Gisu or Norma.

Lucrecia Mux Aquato: Lucrecia... She is a woman who was too dangerous to be around her own family. But she's such a loving woman. When Lili first finds Lucrecia, Lucy quickly wraps Lili up in a blanket and urges her to get warm and dry by the fire. The rapids must have gotten Lili wet. Lucy and Lili take on a very quick grandmother and granddaughter dynamic, and thanks to Lucy's kindness and hydrokinesis Lili let's out a few tears and tries to tell her what's going on. But once Lucy hears, she has none of it and tries to throw Lili out. Of course... some water plants and water itself is able to take the Psi-Portal and help Lili get into Lucy's mind

[brightdrawings]

A Shift In Perspective

Stanford is looking forward to completing another long day of cryptid based research. However, when he discovers that his alien son, Shifty, has gotten themselves into some trouble, his plans are thrown aside as he works to help them out of trouble.

also on ao3!

A belated Secret Santa gift for @butchshapeshifter​ from the WWTD server. He asked for content with Shifty, so here’s your shifty! With a little bit of pre-portal fiddauthor sprinkled in. I hope you enjoy!

---

"Stanford?" Fiddleford's voice, tinged with worry, echoed through the house.

 "What is it?" Stanford asked. His assistant's voice ringing out in concern was a rather common occurrence. The southern engineer was easily made uncomfortable by the various creatures that made their home in the woods of Gravity falls. And given that gnomes or swarms of mosquito-like fairies would often sneak into the house, Ford found himself having to calm Fiddleford down.

As such, Stanford was in no rush to see what Fiddleford sounded so worried about. 'Probably another gnome trying to steal leftovers,' he thought to himself.

"If you could hurry it would be greatly appreciated!” Fiddleford cried, urgency colouring his voice.

"I'll be there in a moment." Stanford rolled his eyes. 'If the gnomes have come after our leftovers again, I’m probably going to have to install some wards. Perhaps something that Hand Witch in the mountains can help with. Speaking of, what did we have left over from lunch?' 

However, when he finally walked into the living room, thoughts of lunch exited his mind. Fiddleford stood before him, a panicked look on his face as he stared at a tangled mess of flesh and bones.

The creature had three arms, no elbow bent in the same direction. It stood on 4 thin insect-like legs, two brown, one pink, and the last utterly transparent, revealing brittle-looking bone beneath. Its face was a mangled mess of eyes, and a half-shaved muzzle. Teeth twisted and poked out of its cheeks. Its eyes searched the room in fear. As its chest rose and fell, its skin was sucked into the gaps of its ribs in a way that made Stanford’s stomach twist. Each breath looked as though it would knock it over from the effort.

"Fiddleford, what is that?" Stanford demanded.

"That, my dear Stanford, is Shifty." Fiddleford's voice was laced with panic. "You’d have known if you didn't dawdle."

"I thought it was just a gnome, or a fairy, or something mundane," Stanford defended. "What happened?"

"We were practising his shape shifts. I was using some pictures for reference to help ‘em go from beast to object to people, but then something went wrong. They tried to impress me with a clever transformation, but I think they might have overwhelmed their transformation gland. One moment they turned into me when I was in middle school, and the next they turned into that."  Fiddleford gulped.

"Obviously the first thing we need to do is keep calm." Stanford said, putting a hand on Fiddleford's shoulder.

 "Calming me down ain't gonna help too much, Stanford," Fiddleford said.

"Seeing you panic is only going to make them panic even more. We need to keep calm so that they can see that things will work out," Stanford said.

Shifty let out a painful wheeze.

"You didn't have them turn into an ooze-spewing beast did you?" Stanford asked.

"Not indoors," Fiddleford affirmed Stanford.

"Right, right, good. Okay. Now, Shifty, can you hear me?" Stanford walked over to the mangled mess of his alien son.

Shifty nodded their head weakly.

"Good. Tell me, can you remember what you were trying to shift into?"

Shifty opened their muzzle, but only a gurgling sound came out.

“Er, I see.” Stanford grimaced.

Fiddleford knelt next to terrified alien.“Please Shifty, let’s try shifting back to your original form. Can ya try shifting back into me?”

Shifty let out a garbled noise as their multiple arms trembled. They heaved and struggled to shift their form. A moment passed. Their arms swelled and they stood there briefly, then their thin legs gave out. 

Fiddleford dove to catch Shifty before they hit the ground.  

“Shifty! Are ya alright?” Fiddleford asked. 

Shifty let out a garbled sob. 

“Oh darling...” Fiddleford gently wrapped his arms around them. “We’ll figure something out.”

Stanford stared at the pair owlishly, his mind reaching back to an incident of his youth, running around carefree on the beach. His twin, Stan, too full of confidence and sugar, had gotten it into his stubborn head that it would be an excellent idea to climb over the monkey bars. Unfortunately, he had forgotten his paralyzing fear of heights. As such, Stanford had stood under the beach play equipment, trying to calmly explain a way for the boy to get down. But Stan’s white-knuckle grip and fear had stopped him from listening to reason. It was not until Stanford’s older brother, Shermie, gave more direct instructions that they found a solution. It was painfully slow, but Stan soon remembered his route up through muscle memory and could make his way back down. 

Inspiration twinkled in his eye as Stanford stepped forward. “Shifty, can you try shifting into Fiddleford once more?”

The alien gave a pained look that was only compounded by the mismatched eyes dotting their face.

“This time, let’s take it step by step. Just like the first time you transformed into me.” Stanford pointed at his leg. “Can you try turning your legs back first? Nice and easy, no need to rush. Just take a deep breath and focus on your leg.”

Shifty tried their best to breathe deeply while trying to change their legs back to human ones. Their body trembled, once, twice, then their four legs turned into goop.

“Yes! Shifty, darlin’, you’re doin’ it!” Fiddleford cheered.

Shifty gave out a painful sob as they tried to combine the four goopy limbs into 2 human looking legs. But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t form the limbs properly.

 Stanford spoke calmly.“Shifty, remember, one at a time. Right, then left, just like walking.”

Closing their eyes, Shifty tried to return to their young Fiddleford form once more. This time their right most goopy leg began to tremble. Stanford and Fiddleford could see the bones form beneath the goop, starting with a thigh bone, then a shin, and lastly a solid foot. Stanford would have loved to make detailed notes about how Shifty formed the skeletons of his transformations, but the wellbeing of Shifty was of greater priority. The solid foot bone broke down into five separate bones that reached out to make the toes of the foot. Soon red and white muscles wrapped around the bones.  Lastly the skin surrounding the leg turned a light tone.

“Shifty, that was incredible!” Fiddleford hugged the alien tightly.

In no time at all, Shifty formed a second leg. Then their torso began to shrink, extra arms absorbing into their chest until they were left with only two. The many eyes that covered their face closed and sealed themselves behind eye lids that disappeared into their head, all except for a pair of baby-blue eyes. Their snout and the many mangled teeth pulled back until only a simple pair of lips remained. Long, flowing, sandy blond hair fell down their shoulders onto the dirty overalls that Shifty had formed onto their body. Finally, a fully-formed young Fiddleford stood in the middle of the room. 

Shifty jumped to their feet. “I did it! I did it!” They copied Fiddleford’s southern twang as they spoke.

“You did!” Fiddleford jumped up as well. The pair clasped hands and began dancing a merry jig in the middle of the room.

Stanford sat on the ground and took several deep breaths. “Oh thank Tesla that’s over.”

Fiddleford stopped dancing, letting Shifty continue on his own. “So may I ask why you are the one who’s out of breath?”

“I may not wear my heart on my sleeve like you do, Fiddleford, but walking into a room with my boyfriend panicking and my Shifty looking mangled can give a man emotional distress.” Stanford pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we should have some further research completed on Shifty and their transformations.” 

Fiddleford nodded. “I have a feeling their abilities are limited right now due to their age.” 

Shifty teased, “Next time I want to spook Pa I’ll just turn into something from your journal.”

“Shifty, you know my journal is off limits,” Stanford warned.

Fiddleford offered Stanford his hand. “Hey now, no need to be such a sourpuss. I think today’s success calls for a celebration.”

“Lunch!” Shifty threw his hands up in the air happily.

“Perhaps a break for lunch would be good.” Stanford took Fiddleford’s hand and stood up. 

“Does this mean I can order from the kid’s menu?” Shifty gave a gap-toothed smile.

“Of course you can,” Fiddleford smiled. “Of course you can.”

[reddogcollar]

Then speak friend!!

trust me its impossible to shut me up about anything ever and none of the things I'm about to say will connect

I have unfortunately watched multiple episodes of the spinoff show emperor's new school which shows kuzco going to high school and it felt like like a slow slow decent into madness I recommend it entirely because I want someone else to have this mark on their soul

far more fortunately I am now watching the owl house finally and I am on but the second episode and I think I am losing my shit? eda sounds exactly as I assume she would. a cat man just disintegrated in front of my very eyes

since multiverses are just a thing its so very possible that instead of landing in hell for 30 years ford could up on mewni or smthng from star vs the forces of evil and get his hands on dimensional scissors and fall out of a hole in the fabric of everything onto his basement floor next to Stan like "hey" "what the absolute fuck"

words like supernatural and extraordinary are the worst kinds bc they describe things that are the exact opposite of their structures (super natural implies extra normal stuff but describes things that don't occur in nature and ya know) and I hate them so so much

I am still obsessed with how shifty is just like deadass stanfords fucking son what in the name

one or all of the pines's should have some kind of speech impediment specifically cuz I struggle with talking and project often ❤

invasion of the body snatchers is a neat movie I watched it like in October or something

I am now on the third episode of toh and this kid freaking out over stepping on a flower is like same. this other kid having an abomination in a pot is also like same.

I often think about ghost aus and should finish writing (or just rewrite cuz it sucks now qkxnwksnws) the one that I have

au where stan never breaks the project but they drift a part anyway and its just really very bitter and sad and stuff

similarly au where things just like work out that night and the point of it all is stanford ends up in gravity falls still and often calls up stan at unreasonable hours to infodump about the weird shit. this concept is important to me for no real reason I just like the thought of ford getting to be happy about things

luz rising out of a pot saying "I'm an abomination" is like same

mlp characters seem to be animated with forward facing eyes? which is concerning. you could say they've evolved past the need for field of view over depth perception due to being like sophisticated and stuff but their world is also full of way dangerous monsters that maybe they as prey animals might want of field of view for. especially pegasai. no bird or horse has front facing eyes.

I am incompetent. that thought was going somewhere about like idk repeatability to some characters due to basing self worth on accomplishment and humor alone but it just stopped there.

I peel skin off my hands and lips all the time and idk why really it hurts a lot but also I cannot stop

bag tho by danny gonzalez with pacifica. consider it.

alligator skin boots and/or blue eyes like the devils water by mcafferty with stan. consider it. 

in atots stan is shown to sit upside down and no straight person has ever sat like that I would know bc I sit like that and I am not straight

I do not know who rick sanchez is and I am not able to find out because I find it hard to consume new media

I am incapable of deciding whether I want to be hugged or if anyone touches me ill die and its an issue

I have so many overdue lessons but when I try to do them my brain shuts off completely and I just end up clicking through the tests and I am a straight f student and its stressful as hell 

its 4 am I shouldn't be awake

one time before we got together my ex directly told me, word for word, "I want to kiss you on the lips" and somehow I took that as platonic until she told me she had a crush on me and I think about that a lot

the owl house is just good. doesn't matter that all the twists have been spoiled for me I don't care its good

that's like all the nonsense I can pull out of my brain I am sorry and good bye

I swear and apologize too much

[bapyess1r]

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: dream smut, cursing

Pairings: OC x OC x OC, Victor Sullivan x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae

Author’s Note: if you’d like to be tagged in the story just let me know 💕

Chapter 6

The next day...

Sunny’s POV

“I can’t believe you’re really going to India, Sun. It’s probably so gorgeous!” My friend, Catalina, raved as I sat at a table closest to the front counter of her bakery. I feigned a smile and stirred the coffee she made me, watching her pack a fat bag full of pasta and a tub of chocolate chip cookies.

“Yeah! All the dead bodies are really gonna add a nice touch to the postcard I’ll send you.” I said with a touch of sarcasm as I rested my chin in my palm, looking at her with a smile. But the joke went right over her head.

“Dead bodies?!” She exclaimed.

“Cat, darling, she’s goin’ into a bloody war zone.” Erik told her slowly.

“A war zone?!” Her brown almond shaped eyes widened as her jaw dropped and she leaned over the counter. “A WAR ZONE?!”

“I think we broke her.” Erik joked, looking at me. I allowed myself to giggle and I sipped my coffee carefully so as to not burn my lips.

“Suck it, Erik.” Catalina grumbled, blowing her flouncy dark bangs off of her round freckled face and throwing a cookie at him. I grinned as he made a face and sipped his iced Mochaccino with extra whip sourly through his straw.

“I could leave you, y’know?” He said. I rolled my eyes. These were the two people that kept me remotely sane in my 7 years of being in San Francisco.

It was a very early morning for us. Erik and Catalina were driving me to Sully’s plane which he parked on a runway in a hangar outside the city. It was a pretty long drive but an even longer flight. 17 hours of just me and the old man. I was sure he’d let me fly until I got tired. And there would be so much to talk about. I hadn’t seen him since Libertalia. I missed him a lot too. When my friend finished packing everything into a travel bag, she locked up the bakery and the three of us hopped into Erik’s black 2015 Ford Mustang. I took backseat while Catalina rode shotgun, Erik blasting whatever rap music he liked listening to as he drove along a road that seemed to wind for the longest. I listened to my friends sing their songs and make jokes and I leaned into the door as I watched the smiles on their faces. I couldn’t die while I was gone. I wouldn’t allow myself. ‘Who would take care of these idiots?’ I thought with a slight chuckle.

As we arrived at the hangar, I could see that familiar tall silver haired fox, sitting on the steps of his seaplane as he smoked a cigar just waiting for me. The wind pushing at his clothes and hair lightly. Erik just pulled up right to the plane and stopped the car. I gave a big sigh and mentally prepared myself for the adventure ahead before hopping out. As soon as I did, I went running into Sully’s arms to deliver the biggest hug.

“How ya doin’, kid? You look tired.” He asked me. I gave him a small smile and shuffled my feet.

“A lot has happened this week. Sam came, he got me fired, now we live together-”

“He got you fired?” Sully forced a laugh and shook his head. “But it’s good. You didn’t need to be there anyway.”

“Yeah…. he punched my boss in the face!” I said, raising a brow as I looked at him. He cackled.

“That’s Sam for ya.”

“Mmmhmm.” I agreed, picking at my nails. “I guess I should be grateful though. Won’t have to work at that shithole again.”

“That’s a bright side…” he nodded.

“And I get to travel more with you guys! Do work that I actually give a fuck about.” I grinned. He pinched my cheek with a proud smile as Erik and Cat got out of the car. Erik grabbed one of my bags from the trunk and brought it over to me.

“Erik goddamn Tales. How long has it been?” Sully asked, shaking his hand strongly. I’d forgotten that the last time they saw each other we were all in London.

“I wanna say 6 years, mate.” Erik smiled as he handed me my bag and I went to put it on board.

“Jesus, time really does fly, huh? You look good! Put on a little bit of muscle since I saw you last.” He said with a smile.

“Ah, cheers, Mr. Sullivan!” Erik smiles in embarrassment as he continued.

“I remember when you were just a skinny little thing.” Sully tapped him in the chest with the back of his hand casually as he spoke. Erik just laughed and nodded.

“Yeah I’m workin’ on it.” He chuckled. As I hopped out of the plane, I noticed Catalina trying to grab the biggest bag; the one full of my weapons. She struggled to pick it up and damn near dropped it on her foot when she managed to get it out of the trunk. I giggled and ran over to help her.

“You good, Kitty Cat?” I asked her and she huffed as the weight of the bag pulled her down a bit.

“What in the hell do you have in here?” She asked, straining herself to pick it up.

“Guns.” I told her simply, picking up the bag with ease and linking an arm around hers as she held onto the bag of food she packed. I walked her over to the plane and introduced her to Sully. “Victor Sullivan, Catalina Cabrera.” I said quickly, pushing between everyone to put my guns on the plane. Sully’s posture straightened a little at the sight of my precious friend. In a heartbeat he swooped up her hand and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” He said rather smoothly. As I came off the plane, Cat shot me a look and wiggled her thick brows at me. I shook my head and fought off a smile. Then she handed him the travel bag.

“I made you guys a little something for the road…. well… the sky…” She said and he chuckled.

“Sunny, you never told me you had cute friends.” Sully puffed on his cigar and smirked at me.

“Settle down, ya dirty ol’ dog.” I laughed, patting his back.

“I made pasta and cookies. I hope you guys like it.” She said to him as he looked in the bag.

“I’m sure we’ll love it. Cat here can cook like a fuckin’ Master Chef. She’s got her own bakery and everything.” I said to him, hugging her and kissing her cheeks.

“I’m okay-”

“Bullshite. It’ll be the best damn cappuccino you ever have in your life.” Erik said, interrupting her humble moment to push her about with a smile.

“Well when we get back, I might just have to take you up on that.” Sully said as I took the bag from him. I looked at Erik who had been rather quiet. During the ride over he kept looking at me through the rear view, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. His eyes just kept bouncing between me and the road. ‘I hope he’s okay…’ I thought for a moment.

“Welp! We got a lotta air to cover. Let’s hit the skies, shall we? Lovely meeting you, Miss Cabrera. Erik, practice your aim, bud.” With that, Sully turned to get into his plane. I hugged Cat tightly and she ran her fingers through my curls.

“You better come back. Scratches and bruises only. I’m still traumatized from your gunshot wounds.” She told me, burying her face in my chest. I chuckled and poked her nose.

“I’ll be fine. Be good while I’m gone. Sell the fuck outta those pumpkin cupcakes. People are gonna love them. Look out for each other. And keep Erik outta trouble. Please?” I said.

“Of course.” She smiled. The look in her eyes told me she’d be just fine. Then I turned to Erik. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he slowly slipped his arms around my waist. He hugged me as tight as he would before I left anywhere. But he lingered a bit this time. The way he looked down at me, there was so many emotions swirling in his green eyes; too many to unpack at the moment. He parted his lips to speak and stuttered a bit.

“Sunny, I…. I uh…” he pondered a moment.

“Yeah?” I urged him to keep talking. He seemed to shake his head a bit before a calm smile stretched across his face.

“I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone…” he told me as he looked me in my eyes. I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to say so I made a mental note to talk to him when I got back. I just smiled and kissed his cheek before stepping onto the plane. His hands lingered in mine like he didn’t want to let me go yet he reluctantly did so.

“Alright. I love you guys! Call me!” I shouted, closing the plane door behind me. I sat in the passenger seat of the seaplane and looked down at my friends, waving as we flew off. I watched as they grew tinier and tinier the higher we got. Soon they were but little specks on the ground and we were above the clouds.

“That’s my family, Sully… those two… They’re all that matters…” I looked at the ground where they were even though we were high in the clouds now, my hand against the glass as we flew through the air.

“I’m glad to know you’ve got people out here that care about you. I worry, y’know?” He said gently. I was surprised at him.

“Victor Sullivan, I do believe you’re goin’ soft on me.” I told him with a smirk. He shook his head and chuckled. “I can fly later, right?”

“Absolutely not.” He shut me down immediately and my nose turned up as my brows tensed.

“Why in the sam hell did you teach me how to fly a goddamn plane if you won’t let me fly said goddamn plane?” I asked in annoyance. He just chuckled.

“I didn’t think you’d actually want to-”

“WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!” I snapped. I was a bit disappointed. I was looking forward to flying a bit.

The flight was rather long and I fell asleep twice. I chatted with Sully about him and Sam’s recent adventures (the whole two sides to a story deal). It seemed as if Sam had been living his best life for the past six months. Sully busted a knee during one trip and he’d been a little light on it lately. He would tell me that getting old means more recovery time. Something I wasn’t exactly looking forward to. Suddenly, he began acting a little shifty. I picked it up and narrowed my eyes at him for a moment before turning my eyes back to the blue sky and fluffy clouds before us.

“What is it, old man?” I asked, slouching in my seat and biting my nails. He gave a nervous chuckle, knowing nothing could really get by me.

“How’s Sam been?” He asked me. I raised my brows and snorted. There was once a time where the two men couldn’t even stand each other and now he was checking up on him…

“Fine…. We got a shared apartment. He wanted to make up for getting me fired.” I mumbled.

“You live together?!” He shouted. I stared at him with widened eyes before smirking a little.

“Geez, Sully. Don’t be such a dad about it.” I said. “Look, it’s a win-win situation. I get a new place, half the rent, I practically live in my workspace now, and he’d be gone a lot so I’d have the place to myself mostly… among other explicit things.” I smirked. Sully’s expression seemed a bit uneasy as he shifted in the pilot’s seat. He cleared his throat and tried to suppress his grim facade. Something felt off. Like he wanted to tell me something. Kind of like everyone else who was afraid to tell me things nowadays. “Okay, Sullivan. Spill it.”

“Heh…. I don’t wanna drive a wedge between you two by any means… and you know I just wanna look out for ya—”

“Victor… you’re stalling.” I said, calling him out.

“Sam’s had a bit of company… during his time away. Before he came to see you. It wasn’t just one… it had been a couple.” He told me nervously. I took a deep breath as my heart pounded against my chest suddenly. Sam mentioned before that he’d been with other girls during his travels. He never elaborated on it but it stayed in the back of my mind. Bringing it up again only made me think about it more. I looked at Sully with an unbothered look.

“I know. He told me.” I responded, acting as if it didn’t hurt when in fact it did (more than it was supposed to). “He can sleep with whoever he wants. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything…”

“Isn’t he though?” Sully retorted rather pigheadedly. I sighed.

“No he’s not. I don’t want a boyfriend. Never needed one and I won’t start now…” The words didn’t seem true anymore. The closer I got to Samuel Drake, the more I wanted to know everything; feel everything. Be everything. But a relationship wasn’t in the cards for me. It seemed like it never was…

“Well then. I guess it doesn’t matter then.” Sully said simply.

“Nope.” I replied in a stale tone. Sully gave me a side eye but continued to keep quiet on the subject.

We finally touched down at a port in Karnataka. When we arrived, I was knocked out cold in the back of the plane. 17 hours was no joke. The gentle vibrations and the hum of the engine as I brushed up on more Hoysala culture lulled me to sleep rather easily. Not to mention Sully and I ate our weight in pasta and cookies. My friend really put her foot in it. I was suddenly startled by a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. My eyes fluttered open to be met with a pleasant pair of blues.

“Are we there yet?” I mumbled. He nodded.

“Yup. We made it, kid.” He told me, stretching his long limbs.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t let me fly. All goddamn 17 hours and you didn’t let me go one. That’s just mean.” I grumbled sitting up, scratching my head as he chortled.

“How about we go out n’ get some sun, huh?” He said, patting my back.

“What time is it even?” I blinked the sleepy burn from my eyes and yawned.

“11:30. AM.” He answered curtly. I made a face of pure disgust.

“It was morning when we left…” I whined.

“And it’s morning here now.” He said, putting on his sunglasses.

“This is such trash. I hate this so much.” I scoffed with my head in my hands as I stood. I reached into my bag nearby and grabbed my sunglasses from the side pocket, sliding my jacket off my arms. Sully opened the door to the plane and the heat came pouring into the air conditioned plane, invading all my personal space. I shook my head tiredly. “Holy fuck…” I sighed, hopping off the plane.

“Let’s get to the motel and get settled. Then I’ll take ya out for the 4x4 and I know a guy you can get a boat from. It’s on the bad side of town though so… maybe you should go in the daylight. But we can do that tomorrow.” He told, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He was only staying for a day or two. I grabbed my bag of weapons and Sully suddenly stopped me. “You think it’s a good idea to openly carry a bag full of guns around the city right now?” He asked me. I chewed on my lip just as an Indian officer walked by.

“You’re right. I’m an idiot. And I’m tired.” I said, deciding to leave my bag on board. He threw an arm over my shoulder as I adjusted my bag of clothes over my shoulder.

“I’ll get you some more.” He said like a coddling parent.

“Lemme guess. You got a guy for that?” I smirked. He smiled and patted my head as we walked about the city.

It was quite wonderful really. The women wore beautiful sarees, cows and chickens walking about with their owners, street vendors lined up everywhere selling just about anything and everything. Children played in the streets with soccer balls as the South Indian wind carried the most mouthwatering scents of food. The buildings were painted colorfully as well as the fishing boats in the harbor. I didn’t know where to look. It was just an explosive rainbow all over the place. We asked around a lot to figure out where a motel was and eventually the cutest little boy stopped playing with his friends to help us. Granted he swindled Sully out of ten bucks for some ice cream.

He led us to a peach colored building with a bright pink door beneath a white archway. We thanked the kid and headed in to get rooms. We dragged our tired bodies up a couple steps and down a hall, decorated with lovely carpeting. When I got to my door, I leaned my head on it, tiredly.

“I’m gonna get some shut-eye for a while and then we can go out.” He grumbled, swinging his room keys around his fingers.

“Sounds like a plan.” I said, saluting as I watched him go into his room. “ See you at 16:00 hours, Captain?”

“At ease, sailor.” He joked, closing his door.

I’d taken a very long hot shower. I let the scalding water crash over my skin in hopes that it would calm me but it seemed that I’d just be restless for the day. For some reason, I just couldn’t get myself together. I was jet lagged like a mother and worried about Sam- about the whole job really. He warned me that he wouldn’t be able to contact me until he saw me but it didn’t make it any easier. And more importantly: when?! I still had not a clue how it was going to pan out. In the midst of all my stressors, I managed to dress myself in a black tee shirt and camo printed fitted skinny jeans before falling asleep in my bed. Then suddenly, I found myself dreaming…

Bright lights shined in my eyes, practically blinding me. I could hear the fat bass of music in the speakers above me and the roar of many men in front of me. It smelled like cigarettes and booze. A scent that was all too familiar to me. I blinked a couple times when I heard a voice yell at me. “Aye! Move your ass!” I looked off to the side to see Jet scowling at me. I realized I was in Headlights and that I was on stage. So I began to move. The last I checked I wasn’t working here anymore. But I still did as I was told. When my set finished, I walked about the club. Men complimenting me on my ass and the girls I worked with complimenting me on my set. Each time a girl talked to me, I managed to find myself asking them, “Have you seen Sam? He was supposed to wait here for me.” and every answer was a solid “who?” or that they hadn’t seen him. Jet approached me at the bar and handed me a wad of cash and ordered a shot for himself, slapping me on my ass harshly as my eyes scanned the crowd.

“What are you lookin’ for?” He asked me, taking a shot and ordering from the bartender behind me again.

“Sam. He said he’d wait here…” I said. Jet just snickered.

“Oh, that guy. He’s in one of the private rooms around back. He said to come find him when you were finished.” He told me, rolling his eyes. A smile crept onto my face as I started off to the room. I didn’t know how I knew which one he was in but I did. I walked down a ridiculously long red hallway and stopped at the very last door. My heart beat seemed to grow louder in my ears as I put my hand on the golden door knob; just a steady pace. I wasn’t at all prepared for what I saw when I swung the door open.

Moans hit my ears the moment the door cracked open. I could feel my face turn into a hard frown and my eyes strained, trying to make sure what I was seeing wasn’t real. Sam was sat in a plush red chair with a girl’s head between his legs, his head thrown back as he groaned and called her “princess”. His fingers delved into her long dark hair as her head bobbed up and down in his lap, her hand curled around his cock as she worked. I couldn’t control my feet. I walked further into the room, knocking something over and stopping in my tracks as my face heated up and tears welled in my eyes, my lips trembling. They stung as they gathered up, threatening to fall hot and heavy from my lids. He looked up at me a moment and uttered my name with a shiver. My heart shattered as this girl stood and pulled her panties down and sat on his cock with a loud sigh. I tried to get a look at her face but her dark tresses hung over her face. My breathing became ragged when she began rocking her hips into his. The two of them started panting as they fucked each other, but Sam’s eyes never left mine.

“Sunny…” he whispered repeatedly, gripping onto her hips to fuck her deeper. Suddenly he began yelling my name. Something overwhelmed me and the tears fell over my cheeks without permission. I backed away as he screamed at me ferociously and I turned to run away. But no matter how hard I tried to bolt down this obscenely long hallway, I just couldn’t seem to run fast enough. And when I finally could, I found myself back in the front of the club, sobbing uncontrollably. I could feel my heart speeding up, my chest heaving as I hyperventilated, running into tables, knocking things over and waitresses, making a mess of things. I looked at the hall I ran from, backing up and hoping that I’d see Sam running after me, but he was nowhere to be found. I screamed as hard as I could but no sound could be heard, only the loud music in the speakers. I turned to run out of the club but something tripped me. I suddenly found my feet swept from under me and my head slammed hard on the corner of the stage, knocking me out—

Suddenly, I was awake. I shot up from the bed, sweating, trying to catch my breath as a single tear fell from my eye. I looked around and ran my hands over my body, pushing my hair back to make sure I was okay. I was fine. I was in my hotel room. I let out one solid sob and I sat at the foot of my bed, my fingers gripping onto the mattress. “Fuck!” I exclaimed. I wanted to throw something. Anything. But there was nothing around that would give me that satisfaction so I punched a pillow a couple times. I put my face in my hands and grunted, shaking myself of the icky feeling that had come about. That’s when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped myself a moment and sniffled, trying to pull myself together even though my heart was still racing like I’d just run a marathon. I went to open the door and Sully stood there all bright eyed and awake. Then he got a good look at my face.

“You alright, Sunny? You don’t look so good.” He asked in a concerned tone. I gave a big sigh and shook the nerves off, putting on a big smile.

“I’m fine! I just had a weird dream, that’s all….!” I laughed as authentically as possible. I didn’t need anyone worrying about whether I could do the job or not.

“You sure?” He winced, giving my face a once over.

“Yeah! I’m great! Let’s do this.” I said, backing into my room. I grabbed my sunglasses and shoved my feet into my black boots, closing the door behind me. “Lead the way!”

“So I was thinkin’! 4x4 then dinner?” Sully proposed, raising a thick brow.

“YES. I’m starving.” I said linking my arm with his and we strolled along the dusty streets of the city.

[rgr-pop]

On New Year’s Day this year I was putting away all my makeup from the night before (big night for makeup) and I decided that I would put all the makeup I use in a bag until the bag fills up, to see what I actually use. Well, color cosmetics, by which I mean non-base products, which is not what “color cosmetics” means but I’m my own boss. And this isn’t really everything, just stuff I wore out or to see people--which, to be fair, I don’t like to wear makeup unless I’m gonna be seen, and I don’t photograph my face anymore, so. Not bad for a shut-in though! I am ready to put my things back in order and reflect! Ft. night photos. 

What’s shown above is just the stuff I reached back into the bag for over and over again (cheating? I am my own boss, remember), and stuff that featured in some of my best or most memorable looks this year. The rest will follow. 

As you can see I leaned into pantone candid coral, lol, but coral is, always, my primary color for everything on my face. I had really imagined to use coral with a lot of grey lavenders, and I’m pleased to say I returned to that over and over again and came into loving it. It’s the classic for me. I had also planned to do a lot of coral + gold and coral + periwinkle but I rarely did!

COMMENTARY AFTER THE CUT even though I think you should be forced to read it

The original UD Naked palette @laskyjedneplavovlasky​ handed me down to keep me from buying it when it got discontinued just because it is now Retro and she knew I’d regret it. I like it! I’m gladder I didn’t spend money on it! The thing about me is that I don’t know how to wear or use “neutrals,” so I am learning and growing more with this palette than anything else I have. I expect we’ll see some interesting developments over the next few weeks. As for shimmery neutrals, I still think UD has the best, and I’ve long been a Sin fan. I use this Sin--I have it in like three other palettes--wet. My favorite thing to do with it is to wet a brush--weirdly I love the one that came with this thing--and use it to lay sin vertically down the center of my lid going over the crease, so it looks like actual silk.

NYX Ultimate Mult-Finish palette in Sugar High. These palettes are underwhelming for the price (didn’t I gift you a different colorway of this @madmoths​? do you agree that it’s finnicky?) but the shades here are too ideal and I use some combination of them constantly. If I were some “one palette only” rich bitch I’d get whatever the Nars equivalent of this is and just be like that forever.

Some other coral bits: Nars Orgasm blush, Benefit ultra plush lip gloss in Coralista (I still love these to death! you can’t get them!), Stila watercolor blush in Water Lily (another great thing you can’t get anymore but if you covet it it’s just a knockoff of many Korean products). That blush is Model Co’s blush cheek powder in Peach Bellini, it only recently went back into circulation because I had to repress it after breaking it four the literal third time but I could not find my alcohol spray bottle for umm two months. This is one of the nicest blushes I own just in terms of beauty and application, I need to see how long it lasts to be able to determine whether it’s top five. Happy to see you can still buy it.

That cream palette is an ancient Stila lip and cheek palette that I am determined to use “up” this year. Still smells and works great. I’ve been using those corals, obviously, but I’m reminded now how gorgeous that plum is. I didn’t really lean heavily into my black cherry victorian winter look, like I normally do, so maybe for spring? I’m thinking the next wave is black cherry + dark green for spring. Maybe with... mustard? Will report back.

That Colourpop eyeshadow is Erotic, one of the first products I ever got from them, miraculously still functioning although I can tell it’s kind of on its last legs. I need to use it up, I mean, I’m going to use it up, because it’s one of my favorite eyeshadows ever. I am hunting a perfect dupe! That shade is precisely the coral that I mean when I talk about coral.

Colourpop’s Chasing Rainbows palette. I never would have picked this out for myself but Lucas got sucked into a display at Ulta at Christmas and thought this was very cool, and, he was right? It’s so nice and I really recommend it. But I’m sure you can tell what I’ve been using most... I think if those teals had been something else (a baby blue?) and there was one more slightly shifty shimmer in a translucent base, this would be a basically perfect palette. 

That Huda sapphire palette is....we’re trying to work it out. I am trying to like it at all. (I actually love the silver glitter that temptalia gave an F, lol. She rates on claims but if you use it with only your fingers and a tacky tacky base it looks very neat on the lid.) 

I’ve had a rocky relationship with that MUFE palette (for a minute I thought it was the only thing temptalia had ever steered me wrong on!) but I’ve really come around on it. I use that suite of purples all the time and they are very luxe and dreamy on me, even if I wanted them to be opaque “colors” when I got them. I also use that blush in the center as a “transition shade” to blend out the edges of anything else I do with this palette.

I forgot to open that little TheBalm single, it’s a promotional single (lol!) from their Nude Dude palette. I can’t imagine spending money on the fucking TheBalm schitck, oh my god. This thing is a beauty though, a really nice purpley nude that was almost made just for me. I just cannot, no matter what I do, work any kind of “nude” into my every day life. I can’t. I want to pan this but..  I will not.

The tiny tube is a Bare Minerals Marvelous Moxie lipstick in Get Ready. This was some kind of free birthday gift years ago? I never wore it because it is marginally “nude” so I did not learn until after they discontinued it that it is the best! I would buy a full size of this! (Well, I like the shade well enough--it’s really more of a medium pink than a nude--but I’d likely look for something bolder if I did.) It feels and smells almost exactly like the nicest Tom Ford lipsticks. I will have to try their new lipstick line--but their shit is all nude now! They have such nice formulas of dumb fucking nude everything!!

Colourpop Flexitarian highlighter is my favorite highlighter. The hurus are not lying! Below that is Anastasia’s Aurora palette--for ages I used the green all the time, but I’ve been using the peach-pinks and purples a lot more, as you could guess. I’m really aching for a straightforward pink highlighter. Then we have THE MAYBELLINE PUMA HIGHLIGHTER. What is it actually called? Chrome Highlight in Knockout. I cannot remember anything before this highlight. See, I know a lot of people like this line, but I had never been driven to try them, and I only got this because I got sucked into the whole thing, and I am strongly undisappointed. It’s not exactly unique but unique to my collection, and is the only kind of gold like that I have, and it has a slight rosy-purple base that is perfect for me and for the coral-lavender thing I’ve been doing. 

In the lower right corner is a little bit of a pink look--nothing new for me, I use that hot pink NYX Primal pigment all the time and have for years. It’s not the very best on the market but it’s buildable and the absolute perfect pink, so I’d say it’s probably the best for the price. The lip products are newer to me, a NYX “Slide On Glide On” lip pencil in Disco Rage (!) that Lucas got me for Christmas, which is great? Turns out the $10 lipliner is nicer than the $3 lipliner? Hate that! And a lipstick from a recent limited edition Revlon glitter collection in SE purple tubes--I had a very Collector moment about these and had to have one. This one 100 Watts Pink. I really kind of want more but I have restraint (a glittery pink is practical and everyday wearable!), that shit is getting expensive... HOWEVER! This reminds me that I fell back in love with some other Revlon Super Lustrous lipsticks, particularly FIRE AND ICE (!), thanks to temptalia revisiting them this year. Where did I put that?...

The colourpop super shock shadow on the bottom is Daddy. One of my best looks this month was, well, I had planned something entirely different but I put on youtube while I was getting dressed and Chloe Morello posted this so I had to reroute. She looks unbelievable, it’s a great look. This took a lot of building but it looked so fucking good, I wore it with the CP blue mascara (below), cobalt + bright lavender is a very good combination.

There are some more greige lavenders down there, Revlon’s Illuminance cream shadow palette in Wild Orchids--this maybe doesn’t wear that long but as an...item? concept? it’s one of my favorites ever. That glitter tube is a J.Cat holographic 3D eye topper thing, the shade is Unicorn Hype. I have two of these and would buy more. This was Tati’s influence! I love this brand and like this product, still wanna get the mousse ones but they were always sold out when she was hyping them last year. This one is, however, starting to get a slightly concerning chemical smell that will probably not keep me from putting it on my eyelids.

Aaaand... imho the product of the year is this CP mascaras. I got the red and the blue. IIRC the red is a little finnicky and the blue wears very nicely but they are by far the most vibrant and pigmented and beautiful colored mascaras I’ve ever used and I could not recommend them more highly. I especially adore the blue for all the time wear but I do think other brands have come out with great blue mascars. But what are you gonna do.... pick up some other red mascara? You’re not! (Well, I’m hoping the impact of these trickles down!!) You don’t need a white base under these at all, and they are definitely more of a volumizing and clumping formula vs. lengthening. 

[ikesenhell]

Moon Phase (3)

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here or become a Patron of mine! NOTES: This was a commission for @forallyourikemensengokuneeds - Thank you so much! If you want to commission a piece of your very own, please see here. THIS IS GOING TO BE IN MULTIPLE PARTS. She wanted a piece a la Professional Integrity.... so here we are.

The local dive bar was an unimpressive thing. A pool table sat caddy-corner to a long wooden rail, the stools almost perfectly designed to dump drunks who’d had a bit too much. She settled down just in time for his cell phone to start ringing.

“It’s Hideyoshi,” he told her.

“Oh man. Think Mamayoshi is looking for us?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. Give me a minute.”

Excusing himself to the relative quiet of a dark corner, Mitsuhide answered the phone and plugged his ear. Something smelled of pinesol and stale beer, the crash of someone kicking the jukebox to coax it into working overwhelming. “Yes?”

“Where are you guys?”

“Hit a bit of a snag.” Mitsuhide lazily watched as the man stopped kicking the old box and turned it instead. “The camper broke down.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s being fixed, but they have to order the parts.”

“Christ.” A long, long pause hung over the line. Finally, Hideyoshi ventured, “I could drive up there and get you guys. Are you holding in alright?”

“We’re just fine. You don’t have to do that. I think we’ll manage. We got offered a generator hookup and have a small bar down the street, so you know i’m happy. I expect I could come up with a few things to do with her.”

Hideyoshi skeptically noted, “That sounds shifty.”

Mitsuhide couldn’t help it. He leaned back his head and laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you have something particular in mind that falls under that?”

“N-no! I--ugh. You’re both fine?”

“Yes, quite.”

She kicked off her stool and padded over to the jukebox, shoving the two men gathered there and shaking it away. With nimble fingers she jimmied the back until the record fell into place. Immediately the soft strains of a country song swelled through the speaker and the rest of the denizens cheered.

“What was that? You guys watching a game or something?”

“Something like that,” Mitsuhide ventured, watching as the others bought her a drink. God. How did every lighting do something different for her? In the sunlight she glowed. In the moonlight she was radiant. In the thin bar lighting, she seemed both an angel and all too frighteningly real. It seemed nearly unfair that whatever higher power lurked out there would toss her in with him. How was he supposed to compete with the attentions of a thousand better men? “I’ll call you when we’ve got an update on what’s happening.”

“Sounds good. Be safe now.”

“No promises.”

---

Something about sharing the camper felt a little like high school again. Once upon a time they’d had slumber parties--if they could even really be called that. It was more that they’d all gather together in the bonus room of Nobunaga’s house and play Mario Kart until it was early in the morning and his mother came to scold them, and then they’d all pass out draped across the couches and floor, snuggled around blankets.

But this was different. Sure, back in the day he’d had feelings, these free-floating things that emerged like soda bubbles in his stomach whenever she smiled at him or took the controller from his hand. Now? God help him. She was a woman through and through, and his eyes certainly weren’t letting him forget that. He did his best to avert his gaze when she was in her pajamas. Even then he knew--she was hips and curves and thighs and a million miles he could traverse with his hands and mouth, and as much as he’d tried to sink that ship full of holes, it still hadn’t gone under the waves.

“I can take the couch if you like,” she offered, and he did his best to ignore how her shirt hung ever so slightly from her shoulder, the upper curve of her chest peeking through.

“No. I can’t imagine making you do that.” Mitsuhide hoisted himself up into the upper bunk loft over the driver’s seat and smoothed out the sheets, prepping the pillows one at a time. “Please.”

She rested her chin on the ledge. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Would you want to hang out before I go to bed?”

He hesitated before flashing her a smile. “Whatever would we do? Did you have something in mind?”

“You don’t have to make it weird,” she huffed, struggling to hold back the laugh. “I just kind of wanted to talk is all. I missed that. You remember that time I had that old Ford Windstar?”

Mitsuhide snickered and extended an arm to her, which she took, hoisting her up into the loft. “How can I forget? We had to push that horrible thing more than once.”

“Yeah. And you remember that night that Hideyoshi was having a meltdown about trying to get scholarships?”

“I remember,” he answered slowly. She brushed her feet by his and it sent electric shocks all the way up through his body, their knees almost nested together as she settled in. “Because he thought he’d never be able to afford college and that he’d wind up in the same lot as the rest of his family.”

“Right. So I went and grabbed you and Masa and him, and we just rolled out into that field and Masamune kept being stupid with the construction equipment, and Hideyoshi was about ready to tear his hair out from anxiety and trying to babysit Masa, and you and I hung out on top of the car and just watched?”

“Didn't we dent the top of the car doing that?”

“We did.” Her smile was a thing of radiance. “It kept collecting rainwater after that. But eventually he started laughing and actually joined Masamune on the digger…”

“...and you and I just laid back and looked at the stars while they did their thing,” Mitsuhide answered softly. He wondered what would happen if he touched the curling hair spilling around her cheeks--would she push him away? “I remember.”

“Yeah.” She snuggled into the blankets. “That was one of my favorite nights. Sometimes I’ll drive out to the middle of nowhere and climb on top of my sedan and wonder if I can’t catch that spirit again.”

A hard lump formed in his throat. “Have you succeeded?”

For the first time she fixed him with a stare he couldn’t quite place, a smile dipping around the lower curve of her mouth. “Not quite yet. I think present company has to be included for it to really work.”

Mitsuhide struggled to keep his expectations in check. “Perhaps this week we ought to stargaze then.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking so.”

[whatwouldteslado]

Ford I really don't think that's a good idea. If they see the memories, they *will* start to remember them, and the odds are high that they will revert back to how they were.

I fully understand, but I would prefer Shifty remembers as opposed to us purposefully trying to hide away the truth from him. 

It feels too similar to actively grooming someone and withholding a truth about the truth of the relationship so they will like you. Respectfully, I absolutely refuse to do that. 

[eggnogablog]

Venting about Car Troubles

Hoookay. So when I graduated from college, my dad and stepmom surprised me by buying me a used, good-looking 2013 Ford Focus. I was grateful and surprised (not something my dad would do usually). I used this car for long trips and to take my dad places after his stroke, but it started developing problems very early on. The car’s computer often got confused, telling me I had much more gas than I did (and affecting how my gas gauge worked too), setting off alarms randomly during driving, etc. 

Then the engine light came on, and the mechanic told me the previous owner had hit a deer with the car, and despite the car not LOOKING dented at all, the interior casing around the engine was pressing into the engine in one spot in a way that could not be fixed unless the entire front of the car was disassembled. We couldn’t afford that, so we decided to hope for the best.

I drive from MI to NJ for my new job. The wipers are clearly busted but I don’t fix them for months because I need to save some money. My car starts stalling every time I get gas. Then it stalls on cold mornings. Then it stalls in the turn lane of an intersection and can’t restart for ten minutes. Then, this Sunday, it stalled in the MIDDLE of a turn through a (thankfully empty but for me) intersection. So I took it to a dealership for repairs Monday night and got a rental car. They don’t start work on my car until Tuesday morning, and because I forgot my cell at home, they don’t START repairing the real problem until I call them at 5 PM. I take an Uber to pick up my car Tuesday night; it has new wipres and a new perch valve. I return the rental car Wednesday morning, happy to be done with the problem. I drive over 2 hours that day in this car because of a work visit. I drop my classmate off and start backing out of the parking space to drive home at 10 PM.

“TRANSMISSION FAULT SERVICE NOW.” Putting the car in reverse means it doesn’t move. Putting it in drive means it starts reversing at 2 miles an hour. No matter what I do, the computer says I’m in reverse and my reverse back lights are on. My classmate and I try all we can think of, and he says to turn off the car and turn it back on. But when I turn the key, I get emergency lights and no noise from the hood. It’s dead in the parking lot. My classmate eventually drives me home so I acn feed my pets and get some sleep for the next day, since our teacher will not give me a day off or let me be late. He also picks me up for class. I have to wait until the end of class (4 PM) to call AAA, who keep me on the phone half an hour because they “didn’t realize” I’d moved after I’ve told them three separate times before finally setting up a tow job. The guy takes 57 minutes to get to me, and the 22 minute ride becomes 42 minues becaues of rain and rush hour traffic. Of course, I’m now too late for them to start work on the car today, so I leave it with them for tomorrow. I expected that, but I didn’t expect to completely miss picking up my rental car because of AAA’s delaying me. So I had to get my classmate to drive me home again and he’ll pick me up tomorrow.

Or I hope he will, since I apparently dropped my cell phone in his car. The same cell phone I use as an alarm clock.

This week has been so draining. Every evening is about shuttling back and forth and waiting in lines and explaining car sounds and not having any time to actually do my C.S. nursing homework, which I have 3 times as much of tonight because my teacher decided to tell us only today that we have a written test tomorrow. I have shelled out so much money for this fucking car in this week alone. I can’t complain about a gift - i don’t know if I’m physically capable of it to a parent even - but I only want to know why, if you’re going to buy someone a car, you would buy one from a shifty guy selling it by the side of the road?

[vulpixen]

Trying is Enough

Words: 647

Characters: Adeline Marks (oc), Shirley Pines (oc), Shifty. 

Summary: Adeline and Shirley find time to talk between friends when they’re not out investigating the mysteries of Gravity Falls. 

A/N: Hey there guys! This is a short fic as a birthday present for @hntrgurl13 . Adeline Marks belongs to @hntrgurl13 and Shirley Pines belongs to @scipunk63 . Hope you all enjoy! 

Adeline Marks and Shirley Pines were inside the attic room that became Adeline’s room -- her own living space -- she decorated to her heart’s content. Adeline was drawing illustrations for Ford’s recent discoveries at her desk while Shirley interacted with little Shifty, playing with the small creature as she watched him morph into a bouncy ball. It was unlike Shirley had ever seen in her life and she was loving it.

“You sure are neat, Shifty!” praised Shirley, picking up the squishy young creature in her hands, “Can you turn into a kitty?” Shifty nodded, morphing into a tabby kitten he’d seen from the pictures Adeline showed him earlier. “You, little one... are amazing!”

Adeline turned around, smiling at the scene, happy that Shirley and Shifty are getting along better than she expected. Like brother like younger sister, she thought positively. It almost made her think what if she had her own siblings. Would they have been supportive of her leaving home and standing up to her mother? Would they have been there when she needed it most? Would they have playfully teased her as a way of sibling affection; like Shirley does to her older brothers? At least she could get a good idea from Stanford and Fiddleford’s own experiences, having grown up with older and younger siblings around for the most part. Fiddleford was almost like a sibling to her even.

Shirley asked Adeline, lying on the bed while holding Shifty, “Say, did you ever found more these guys like Shifty and if his parents are around?”

Adeline shook her head, “No. Shifty’s egg was the only one we found. We don’t know where his birth parents are, or if they’re still alive, but we do have a theory that his ancestor may have come from the fallen spaceship on the outskirts of town.”

“Ah,” Shirley said, almost felt bad for the creature, “Shifty doesn’t have any siblings either, but that’s okay. Most of my life, it was just me and my parents. All my brothers were out of the apartment before I even started talking, but Shermie and Ford occasionally visited.”

“That’s nice,” Adeline smiled some, mentioning, “Fiddleford was telling me the other day about his several siblings back in Tennessee and how chaotic it was, but for the most part, they cooperated well when it came to performing tasks around the hog farm.”

Shirley blushed for a moment at the mention of Fiddleford before switching topics, “So, um… when’s your birthday? I wanna get you something when that day comes around.”

Adeline chuckled for a moment, telling her in modesty, “October 9th. A few months away. You don’t have to get me anything if you don’t want to.”

“Nah, I wanna do something nice for you.” Shirley sat up from the bed with Shifty on her shoulder now, “We’re friends. You’ve been a good help for my brother to keep him on track when I’m not around.” Shirley frowned for a moment, confiding to Adeline concerning her brother, “Ma and I worry about Ford since he’s been distant over the years. I can understand why because of my pa can be…. But I’ve been trying to help my brother see that he’s got people looking out for him.”

Adeline totally understood Shirley. From the time she’s worked with Ford, she could get the feeling that he kept details about his family to a minimal. There was somethings about his family he didn’t want to talk about. Adeline sure doesn’t like bringing her own issues with her own family.

“I try what I can do, Shirley. Boy do I try, and that’s the best we both can do for him,” Adeline said, hoping it would make Shirley feel a bit better. When she sees Shirley’s lips curved to a small smile, it was enough to know that she appreciates her friend’s words.

[nikxation]

If you're still doing these. #43, Stan twins. Please?

It has been almost three weekssince something interesting lasthappened on the Stan O’ War, and Ford swears he’s about to lose his mind.

The lack of activity, themundaneness, the boredom of it all isdriving him to his wits’ end. He’d spent the last thirty years of his lifeconstantly on the move, maybe having a week of down-time at the most beforehe’d be off again, always running, never able to fully relax (barring his briefstint in Dimension 52). Thirty years of that life makes it exceptionally hard nowfor him to accept inactivity for extended periods of time.

Having three straight weeks of absolutelynothing is killing him.

Three weeks with no mainland stops,no mysterious islands, no strange or paranormal creatures, no mysteriouslightning storms, nothing. Just ocean, ocean, and more ocean. Even the trawlthey occasionally ran behind the boat came up with nothing interesting, onlycollecting garbage, debris, and the occasional herring.

Stan laughs at him when he grumblesabout having absolutely nothing to write in his journal at the end of the day,telling him to enjoy the peace while he can and that not everything has to be an adventure, Sixer. Relax a little.

Ford may not horde his trust as closeto his chest as he used to, but he still can’t trust the silence.

Silence means something big is justover the horizon.

Silence means danger is coming.

And danger isn’t as exciting as itonce was now that there’s more than just his own life on the line.

That, and he may also just be a bitbored too.

Which is why when Stan startscursing and hollering out on the deck late one afternoon, Ford immediately dropseverything he was doing, grabs his journal, and races out of the cabin, part ofhim hoping it’s nothing serious even as his treacherous mind hopes forsomething interesting.

He doesn’t expect to come out andfind his brother backed up against the outer wall of the cabin, a look of puredisgusted horror plastered on his face and directed at whatever he’s staring atnear the stern of the boat. Ford looks in that direction and sees nothing atall, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he turns back to his brother andfinds him still staring at that spot.

“Stanley, what is it?” he asks, notat all understanding what has his brother in such a state of distress. He goesto walk towards the back of the boat, but Stan’s hand grabs onto his shoulderand pulls him back, making him stumble slightly. “Honestly, Stanley,” he tuts,shrugging the man’s hand off and continuing forward, steps lightly thudding onthe carbon-fiber deck as he glances around. “There’s nothing—”

“Don’t go any closer!” Stan calls,but that’s exactly when Ford notices it.

It’s some creature, cowering in thecorner of the deck, barely noticeable save for the slight sheen the sun givesits wet, translucent body, its form blob-like and shapeless, and he would havewritten the thing off as some basketball-sized aquatic egg sac or a jellyfishif it weren’t for the fact that it’s skin is rippling, the form undulating and shifting almost imperceptibly.

“Remarkable,” he breathes, takinganother few steps forward before stopping a couple of feet away from the thingand crouching down to get a better look, beyond excited that something isfinally happening.

“Sixer, get away from that thing,”Stan says, his voice tight.

“Oh please, Stanley,” Ford rollshis eyes, cracking open his journal and flipping to the next blank page. “Lookat it. It’s harmless.” He quickly sketches out the rough, gelatinous shape ofthe creature, writing quick notes in the margin about its transparent skin andlack of any visible internal organs and amorphous shape.

Isthe entire creature transparent? Is it actively camouflaging itself like achameleon? Possibly a deep-sea cephalopod of some sort, though it doesn’t seemto have any appendages or bodily orifices to speak of. Photosynthetic?

“I’m telling you, bro,” Stan saysfrom somewhere behind him. “That thing’s bad news.”

“And I’m telling you it’sharmless,” Ford sing-songs.

Itsbody seems to be in a constant state of flux, its entire being moving and shiftingin on itself in constant waves. This could be how it moves through the water.

“It looked a lot less harmless afew seconds ago when it had tentacles and climbed into the boat before turningitself into that pile of goop,” Stan says. Ford pauses.

“Come again?” he asks, stillwatching the creature carefully.

“I’m saying that thing looked a lotdifferent a minute ago, so I suggest you get away from it before—” Ford can’tstop his face from lighting up as he immediately goes back to his journal.

IfStan’s observations before I arrived are correct, then this creature couldpossibly be of the same (or at the least similar) genetic origin as Shifty! Theconstant undulations of its body could mean that its transformations areunstable, possibly making it Shifty’s predecessor.

“Ford, come on! I don’t trust it.Let’s just leave the damn thing alone for Pete’s—”

Orthere are possibly mutations in its original DNA that make it inherently moreunstable. That, or maybe it is unaccustomed to life out of the water, thoughthat doesn’t make sense considering it came on the boat on its own accord.Further testing is required. I will need to procure a small sample of its DNAto be sure—

“Ford! I’m not messing around! Getaway from—”

“Stanley, would you please relaxfor one second!” Ford exclaims, turning to look at his brother. “This is thefirst creature we have come across in weeksand I’ll be damned if I let it slip through our fingers because you’re a littleworried. So would you please just—” Stan’s eyes flash to thecreature behind him before widening in alarm, and Ford barely has enough timeto spin back around and catch a glimpse of the thing, now with spinous barbsprotruding from its body like a sea urchin, the bristles crystal clear likeshards of glass, yet as thin as needles, before the barbs shoots from its backin all directions.

There’s a moment where he feelssharp little stabs of pain in multiple places all over his body, and he randomlyremembers when he had to sew that first patch on his trench coat in DimensionM-616, and he managed to prick himself with the needle enough times to make hisfinger bleed quite profusely. He remembers it because he had apparently leftjust enough blood behind for the Dimensional Border Patrol to identify andtrack him with, forcing him to jump dimensions and accidentally leave behind hislast pair of undamaged glasses that he had gotten from Dimension 0*67. He hadbeen beyond livid.

Then, there’s another moment wherehe considers whether the creature is capable of re-growing the amount of massit just expelled attacking him, and the implications that ability could have onmodern medicine.

It’s with that thought that every skeletalmuscle in his body shuts down all at once, giving one final spasm strong enoughto throw him to the ground before everything goes completely numb and hisvision goes dark.

“Shit!”

Stan sees the spikes a moment toolate, just about to lunge for Ford when the thing shoots those glass-likeneedles in all directions, somehow scurries back overboard, and hits the waterwith a loud splash, hopefully gone for good.

The next second, Ford’s entire bodygoes completely rigid and then collapses in a heap, Stan just barely reachinghim in time to stop his head from smacking the hull of the boat.

“Shit shit shit shit shit…”

He cradles his brother’s head inhis lap and immediately starts yanking out those clear barbs, finding themeverywhere on his front, from his chest to the tops of his legs to a few on hisneck and face. There are just so many of the damn things, and just when hethinks he’d pulled the last of them he spots five more somewhere else. He justkeeps yanking, hoping against all hope that whatever that thing hit him withisn’t…

He’sbreathing. He’s breathing. It’s okay. He’s still breathing.

Fornow.

“Ford!” he says, lightly hittingthe side of his face to try to rouse him. “Come on, bro. Wake up! I don’t knowwhat to do here!” He spots another barb, one that he must have missed, andpulls the thing out. “Come on Sixer. Wake up!” He gives his shoulder a shake.“Wake up wake up wake up.” He has no idea what to do, has no idea what thatthing did, has no idea how to find out. Ford would know what to do, but Standoesn’t. This isn’t his thing. Ford’s supposed to be the smart one with the ideasand the plans and the know-how. He’s way out of his league, left sitting hereholding his brother in his arms not sure whether the man is dying or not.

Whatwould Ford do? What would Ford do?

Fordwould find a cure.

Whatwould Ford do that I can do? What would Ford do that I can do?

He presses two fingers to the pulseat Ford’s neck, trying to calm himself down enough to concentrate on finding aheartbeat. It takes him a moment of searching (and trying not to panic when hecouldn’t initially find one), but he eventually feels the strong and steady lub-dub beneath his fingers.

Good.That’s good. What now?

Gethim inside the cabin.

He grabs Ford under his arms andtries to hoist him up. It only takes a second (and a solid twinge in his back) to realize that’s not going to happen. Ford iscompletely dead weight (wrong choice ofwords wrong choice of words), and trying to drag him into the cabin (anddown those interior steps) will probably wind up doing more harm than good. Hesettles them back down on the ground.

“Ford, it would be extremely helpful if you’d wake upsometime soon,” he says, trying once again to rouse him. “Come on, up andat’em!” He gives his face another light slap. “Rise and shine, buddy!” Anotherlight slap to the other cheek. “Time to wake up so I can say I told you so.” Hespots another barb sticking out of Ford’s arm and pulls it out, going to tossit aside.

The thing winds up pricking his ownfinger instead.

He hisses and shakes the thing off,inspecting his finger and watching a tiny drop of blood bead up on hisfingertip.

Not even a second later, he losesall feeling and control of his entire hand, his fingers and wrist goingcompletely limp and slumping forward.

“What the…?” he murmurs, shakinghis hand and watching the now-useless thing flop from side to side, completelyuseless and unfeeling, not even getting so much as a pins-and-needles sensation.He squeezes one of the dead fingertips with his free hand, not surprised whenhe doesn’t feel a thing. And no matter how hard he wills the fingers to move,they’re unresponsive, like there’s something blocking the signal. He’s vaguelyreminded of that time when that hand-witch (ugh he still hates how that sounds)took his hands, only this is a lot less supernatural and a lot more… familiarin a way.

There was one time, after Rico andhis boys had roughed him up pretty good, when he had to go to the hospital toget a good portion of his shoulder surgically reconstructed. The nurses haddone something similar to his entire arm, and he recalls how strange it hadbeen trying to climb out of the hospital room window with his entire left armdead and in a sling. He’d accidentally smacked himself in the face with thelimp thing more times than he’d care to admit.

Okay.Paralysis and a nerve block. I can deal with that. I can deal with that.

“Ford, if you’re awake, I need youto give me a sign,” Stan says. If this really is just a nerve block, then there’sa solid chance that, with how many of those barbs he got hit with, Ford isparalyzed but still very much awake.

Stan is thankful for more reasonsthan one that the numbness in his hand seems to be extremely localized, notspreading further up than his wrist.

He’s also glad that he hasn’tseemed to have keeled over dead yet, which is a very good sign for Ford.

Ford’s left hand twitches ever soslightly. For a moment, Stan isn’t sure if he’s just seeing things, maybe a trickof the light or those damn cataracts again, but then he sees Ford’s fingers twitchagain, the action a bit more purposeful. Asign. He quickly reaches over and takes Ford’s hand in his own.

“Okay, just to be sure, just… squeeze my hand if you can hear me,”Stan says, almost not daring to breathe. It takes a moment, but Ford’s fingersalmost imperceptibly tighten, almost like a mild spasm more than a squeeze,around his own. Stan can’t stop the relieved laughter from bubbling up in hischest, though it comes out a bit more choked than he would have thought.

Alright.He’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.

Ican handle this. I can handle this.

“I’m just going to say it now whileyou can’t complain about it,” Stan says, his voice cracking as he gives Ford’shand a solid squeeze of his own. “I told you so, you damn idiot.”

Part 2

[hntrgurl13]

Writing Promts: Adeline's birthday surprize

“Grunkle Stan? How many candles should we put on the cake?” Mabel was leaning above a large birthday cake that she and her great uncle had spent the entire morning baking. She had an armful of candles waiting to be placed. 

“Twenty- um… No wait…. Fifty- uh… Geez, I’m not sure. Put however many you want to, sweetie.” Stan and Soos were putting up decorations around the yard. Streamers and balloons hung all around the place. Unfortunately, they were all Halloween themed since that’s all the store had to offer. 

“Good thing Addi’s favorite color’s orange, huh, Mr. Pines?” Soos was putting up a giant banner saying “Happy ??th Birthday, Addi!”. 

Didn’t really help that with the time travel and everything that there was no way to thoroughly determine how old Adeline Marks actually was. She’d physically still be in her 20′s but year wise, she’d be in her 50′s. This was her first birthday since showing up in 2012, so the subject had never really been brought up.

“I suppose it’s a bit of a conundrum on it’s own” Stanford had said. “If we looked at it at certain perscpectives, it can go either way. Of course, we don’t know every single rule when it comes to time travel. For all we know, Addi could remain her current age forever. Or even age rapidly at any given moment in order to “catch up” to the current time. Or she could age faster internally but continually age normally externally. There are all kinds of possibilities and outcomes. We just have to wait and see what happens.” 

That hadn’t been very encouraging to Adeline herself, who’d insisted on not making a big deal out of her birthday. Addi hadn’t been looking forward to this day. It was just a reminder of what had happened to her all those years ago. And just how uncertain her future was going to be. She had even visited an old friend of hers that was phsycic, the real kind and not a cheap parlor trick, and even SHE was unable to tell Addi how or when her life would cut to an end. 

So instead of keeping Addi around the house to be cooped up or watch the others decorate, Stanford had taken Addi to go visit Fiddleford and Tate along with some of the anomalies they had known since she first arrived at Gravity Falls. A trip down memory lane to try and make her feel better about everything.  Ford had insisted that it just be him and Adeline even though Dipper wanted to come as well. 

“I know you want to help, Dipper, but I think it’d just be better if it were just people from back in the day. Consider it a reunion. You wouldn’t want to go to your parent’s high school reunion, would you?” 

Dipper sighed. “No. Probably not…” He slouched a bit as Ford ruffled the thirteen year old’s hair. 

“We’ll bring you along for the next one, alright?” 

“Okay. Thanks, Great Uncle Ford.” Dipper looked over at Addi who looked completely depressed. This was also the first birthday she’d have here without Shifty, her adoptive son, around. Dipper gave a concerned frown. “You sure she’ll be okay?”

“Positive.  She just needs some time away with friends. Just stay here and make sure everyone else doesn’t go too overboard with the decorations.” 

Addi must have overheard them and joined the conversation. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise. Just the “getting older blues”. Nothing to worry about. But thanks for being concerned, Dipper. I appreciate it.” She gave Dipper a quick heartfelt hug and soon they were out the door.

That was a few hours ago. They’d be coming back home anytime now. 

“Hurry up, Mabel! They’ll be back soon and this has to be perfect!” Dipper already had the rest of the food for the party layed out and organized. 

“Keep your pants on! I’m trying to get all these candles lit!” 

Mabel was meticulously lighting each candle on the cake. This wouldn’t have been a problem normally. But in this case, Mabel couldn’t decide on how many candles to put on the cake… so she put ALL of them on.

“MABEL! How many candles did you put on there?!” Dipper’s voice cracked as he panicked.

“Hey, Grunkle Stan said I could put on as many as I want. So I did! Addi missed 30 years of birthdays! We gotta make this one special! 

“By putting a layer of candles on top of the cake?! It’s going to take forever to light these!” 

A grin grew on Stan’s face. 

“Hold on, I’ve got this covered.” He went into the house without another word.

Dipper groaned and pulled out a to do list.

“Okay so we have food, refreshments, decorations, and the cake… What about presents?”

“Don’t worry about it, bro bro.” Mabel pulled out a blue scrapbook she had been working on for the last couple of days. She opened it up to reveal a ton of Polaroid pictures, some starting from 1977 to that very day. 

“Where did you get all these pictures?”

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford and a bunch of other people around town gave me all kinds of pictures. I thought it’d be nice if Addi had an album of all the stuff from back then and see everything she missed. Everyone even signed it at the end! Well, except you, of course.” Mabel handed Dipper a marker and directed him to the very last page where there had yet to be a picture. He smiled and signed.

“This is a grea idea, Mabel!”

“What can I say? I AM, after all, an arts and crafts genius.” Mabel ran her hand through her hair much like their friend Pacifica used to. 

Dipper rolled his eyes and jumped as Stan emerged from the Mystery Shack sporting a flame thrower.

“Time to light some candles!” Stan got a michievous smile on his face and started up the flame thrower.

“GRUNKLE STAN, DON’T!!!” The twins yelled in unison before flames shot out towards the cake and the entire party.

Ford and Addi were walking back up to the house with smiles on their faces. Having that visit with everyone had been a good idea. 

“Thanks for taking me out to visit everyone, Stanford. I really needed it.” She smiled at her friend.

“You’re welcome. See, I told you that that’d cheer you up.”

Addi laughed. 

“Yeah, it’s nice to see that not everything’s changed. Fiddleford is still the southern kook we know and love. And I’m glad to see how everyone else has been. We’ve all been pretty busy. What with you and Stan planning your big sailing trip and me trying to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Well you’re already going to be the representative for the anamolies when it comes to Gravity Falls stuff. It’s good that you’re going to be working with both normal citizen’s and… well… not so normal.”

“Yeah. But I still want to do more research, especially while you’re gone. Maybe I can still be your research assistant from here. Like if you need someone to read up on some things or do stuff on the “internet”. I still want to help you out when I can.”

Ford smiled gently.

“I’d like that. And we can talk with that two way portal mirror we found back in ‘79! It’d have a better signal than any phone I’d have.”

“Yeah! This can actually work out!”

“Yeah- OH MY GOSH!”

They finally arrived at the house to see everything either up in flames or covered in extinguisher fluid. Stan was using the fire extinguisher on what looked like a flame thrower while the kids and Soos poured water on the much smaller flames. 

“What the heck happened here?!” Ford seemed both confused and furious. They’d only been gone for a few hours and the outside of his house was up in flames. 

“Sorry, it’s all my fault. I had the bright idea of lighting candles with a flame thrower…” Stan put out the remainder of the fire from the device.

“You WHAT?!”

“No no no! Don’t get mad at him, Grunkle Ford! He was trying to help me! I put too many candles on the cake and it was taking too long to light!” Mabel got in between the two men with a worried look on her face. Until Dipper stepped in.

“Don’t be mad at anyone, Great Uncle Ford. It’s… It’s my fault… You put me in charge and I couldn’t handle it… I let things get out of control… And because I couldn’t do my job, Addi’s party got ruined…” He looked down at his shoes and braced for a lecture from the angry looking man in front of him.

Ford’s eyebrows furrowed as the frown on his face grew.

“… Well I can’t say I’m not disappointed in any of you… Each of you had a hand in this…”

Soos raised his hand. “Did I, Dr. Pines?”.

“No, Soos.”

Soos let out a sigh of relief.

“What the heck were you all thinking? First everything that’s already happened to Addi and when we finally have a chance to make to situation a little better, you all pull this stunt? I’m not mad but we’ll be lucky if Addi doesn’t break down into tears at this poi- huh?”

Ford was interrupted by the sound of laughter. He turned to see Addi wiping a tear from her eye with a smile on her face. He gave his assistant a confused look as she stepped into the confrontation.

“I love it! This is honestly exactly what I needed for today!” She snorted a bit as she continued laughing.

“Oh no! Addi’s so distraught with grief that she’s going nutso bonkers! Someone get a straight jacket!” Soos declared as he pointed at the woman.

“N-No! I’m really happy!” She smiled and calmed herself finally. “You guys went through all this trouble just to make sure I had a good birthday? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She pulled Dipper and Mabel into a hug. “Thank you so much.”

“But… We ruined it. Everything’s destroyed.” Dipper’s confusion was obvious in his voice.

“So? Ever hear the phrase “It’s the thought that counts”? You guys brought out a FLAME THROWER just to make sure all the candles were lit on time before we came back! Who else would do that just to make someone happy?” Adeline was smiling from ear to ear. She then turned to Ford.

“And YOU were going to yell at them for it?”

Ford rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “I-I honestly wasn’t expecting this reaction from you. You’ve just been so down about your birthday… We all wanted to make it a good one.”

“It IS a good one. The best I’ve had in a while. I got to see my old friends, I’m getting to spend time with my new ones who put together an amazing party for me, and we’re all together to enjoy it. Why wouldn’t it be a good one?”

Stan tossed the now empty fire extinguisher away. 

“See? I told you she’d like anything you threw at her.”

“Stanley!” Ford still had an angry look at his brother until Addi pulled them both into a hug.

“Thanks guys. This is DEFINITELY a birthday I’m never going to forget.”

“OH!” Mabel pulled out the scrapbook from it’s hiding place, undamaged by the previous excitement. “Happy Birthday, Addi! We might not know how old you are, but you’re timeless to all of us!”

Addi gave a surprised look before thumbing through the pages, smiling and tearing up as she looked through all the pictures. “This… This is perfect… Thank you everyone…” 

The Pines family gathered around her for a group hug as Mabel gave Waddles the signal to snap the camera resting on a tripod in front of him. 

A picture of Addi and her friends smiling happily now placed in that final photo slot in the album.

[fordarkisthesuede]

JOURNAL 3 BLACKLIGHT EDITION REVEALED! (Part 3)

Oh boy. This is it. The final stretch.

A New Concern: “What if he wins? It is a thought to horrible to imagine, but imagine it I must. If Bill succeeds in opening the gateway between worlds, it will result in an… Odd-pocalypse? Weird-mergency? Unsual-tastrophe? No matter. If the big day arrives, coming up with a catchy nickname for it will be the least of my worries. To prepare for this worst-case scenario, I have begun stocking my old research bunker with supplies, rations, and weapons. I also tried to choose which theoretical physics books would be most fun to spend 50 years rereading, but they’re all so great I couldn’t decide!” [Picture of the Unseen Eye with the caption “Saw this symbol again recently!”]

Hiding Spot? page:  “In case of catastrophe.” [The tree leading down the bunker is shown, with a staircase winding around it to the roots, with “danger!” pointing down, ending in a rectangle with “prepare for the end” inside.] “LAST RESORT – hopefully cryonics have sustained. Watch out for Shifty.”

Page left of Security Room:  “I need to stop spending time down in this bunker. I was reprogramming my security code when I could have sworn I heard someone speaking to me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I suppose I was voted “most paranoid” in junior high, bt I thought I had gotten over that phase. Then again, maybe that’s what people wanted me to think:  that I wasn’t paranoid anymore so they could start plotting against me, plotting to take my precious thoughts, my MIND-thoughts! Okay, I’ve been inhaling bunker coolant for too long. Going up for some air now.”

Security Room page:  [it now says “Security Code” and has the four buttons to open the bunker highlighted and numbered.] “If I forget this, I’ll be taking a trip to the FIRST dimension!” [There’s a picture of an exit door with “don’t forget!” pointing at it.]

Bill’s Teacup page:  This one’s unusual. “One of Bill’s friends… Where have I seen him?” The face is so normal that I can’t really say who it could be. Seems masculine? I mean, my best guess is Alex, but who knows for certain…?

[Edit, 4/26/18:  I kept forgetting to fix this bit, but this is a reference to the “Have You Ever Dreamed of This Man?” hoax! Thanks to everybody that pointed it out! (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) ]

The machine pages:  “The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is TOO POWERFUL! The device if fully operational could”

My Muse Was A Monster page:  All the eyes drawn here glow in the dark. It looks just as creepy as you’d imagine – especially the big one. It also says “Laseep”  “ELPH EM” “sit lal vero” and “rutts on eno”. This is just normal English with rearranged letters, so it says “Asleep”* “Please” “HELP ME” “its all over” and “trust no one”.

*in my defense, I was sleepy when I first unscrambled the words, and I peeked at that “Can’t Sleep!” page...guess I knew what was on my mind that night :/

Bill Cipher pages: Spanning both pages:  “If he gains physical form then all is lost!” Left page - “If he entered our dimension, what form would he take? Flesh and blood? Metal? Vinyl? Spandex? Would he be a suave, well-dressed, possibly British man in coattails? Absolutely unequivocally not. Bill is a screeching, senseless lunatic. By best guess at his physical form is something like this.” [arrow points to Ford’s idea of Bill, which is like a triangle-shaped meatball with his eye and a strange large mouth]

I love you, Alex. I really do. Getting that nod at the fandom’s general depiction of human!Bill is the greatest feelings that I didn’t know I could have - yes, we had it before, but not so directly and in a published book. It still brings that certain level of satisfaction. I’m continually amused at the jabs at it, and I still to this day love quite a few depictions of him, but more than anything I’m flattered and amazed that fan-artists can get recognition at this level in this day and age. It is truly a time to be alive. I love this book.

Right page: [the figure of the human head’s brain separated into categories reads “ego, deceit, lies, pride”.] “Counterattack strategy:  ?????? A triangle is supposed to be the most stable shape in geometry, but there is nothing more unstable than this angular psychopath. The damage he’s done to my thoughts is impossible to calculate….what havoc might he have wrought?” Underneath, Bill writes:  “Wanna know what I did last time I was in your mind, Sixer? I deleted the world “burden” from your vocabulary and replaced it with “sea otter”! Good luck next time you try to sound ominous, smart guy!”

You know, I’m surprised that Bill writes properly. You know, proper grammar, capitalization, punctuation… You’d think he’d be the one to write in all-caps, like he talks! I didn’t think about that before now. Weird, isn’t it?

Blank page next to Invisible Ink page: “I have decided to use invisible ink to keep away prying eyes. ANYONE could be watching me!”

Invisible ink page:  [the lightbulb has rays of light coming from it as well as a normal eye in the bulb. The ink pot has invisible written on it, with splatters where ink might drip from the pot. There are a series of odd symbols drawn around it as well as a few on top of the page.] “I may provide previous pages with new secrets I have learned since originally writing them, and perhaps reviewing old passages will stabilize my rapidly dwindling sanity…”

No picture, but the page where Ford goes into town has all the townsfolk’s eyes glowing. Even Paul Bunyun’s.

Hiding Places:  [doodle of journal 1] Journal 1 – Describes my first 3 years in gravity falls. Focuses on mythical beasts, geographic anomalies, and my 30-hour arm-wrestling match with a very annoying unicorn.” [doodle of journal 2] Journal 2 – The most dangerous journal! Curses, incantations & dark power became an obsession in this volume. Describes the hiding place of the mystic amulet. I buried the amulet once I learned that it corrupts your soul (and whitens your hair)!” Journal 3 – The volume I hold in my hands. Describes my embarrassing defeat at the hands of Bill and the loss of my very sanity. Also contains a pretty good drawing of a plaidypus. Will soon be bestowed upon S and hidden at the ends of the Earth (I hope).”

Hiding places page 2:  Underneath the scribbled out drawing is the picture of the momentum conserver Ford made back in the seventies. Underneath it is written “what might have been…”

Trust No One page:  “Can’t sleep!” Is written nine times, and trust no one is highlighted and circled. 

On the page next to it, it looks exactly like the show, with several spots on the odd wheel scribbled out, the sad face over the center, and “IS THIS RIGHT? I just don’t know anymore!” written beneath it.

The next two blank pages are Bill’s:  “GUESS WHO! That’s right, pal, ol’ Six Fingers just conked out, & that means Captain Bill is steering the ship! And by “STEERING THE SHIP,” I mean making Sixer slap himself over and over! HA-HA-HA! That’s right, I just wrote down the sounds of my own laughter!” [next to the next paragraph, there is a drawing of Bill pouring gasoline on a flaming planet Earth, with the strange expression of someone watering flowers and encouraging their growth.] “Now where was he? Ah, yes! Mr. Serious was saying that anyone who was smart enough to decode these messages is smart enough to get on the right side of history! And that meant joining ME, your new best friend and style consultant, Bill Cipher! All it takes is a little handshake! Ever wanted to see inside the dreams of your crush? Or crush the dreams of your enemies? Or jet someone else control your body and take the old bone-mobile for a spin? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SUMMON ME!”

Page 2: “And it’ s so easy! Just say the words “BILL CIPHER” three times out loud, alone in the dark. Ready? I’ll say it with you! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! See? That wasn’t so hard! Now there’s a pathway between your mind and mine. I can see everything you can see! Sixer’s about to wake up, but the business between you and me has just begun. Let’s just say I’ll see you down the road. And if you ever get a phone call from a number that says “UNKNOWN,” pick up. Your Guy on the Inside (of Your Mind), BILL”

June 1 page (aka Dipper’s starting page]: “I discovered the Author’s black light secret! I invented some invisible ink and I’m going to try to write a few sneaky – Ugh! I spilled it! Now it’s everywhere! Oh, gross! It’s all over my pants! Ugh, this is embarrassing. I’m going to go wash it off. No black light for me. Yuck! –Dipper” [True to his word, dipper spilled the ink all over the next page, and indeed the page he was writing on. It’s like 2 giant splatter marks.

Mabel’s Smile Dip page has the “Do you like me” letter!!! I’m so tempted to check Absolutely!!! BUT I CANNOT TARNISH SUCH A TREASURE!

Bipper page:   Underneath the note Bipper left is the best gift this book has given me – a caticature of Bipper. It even says “Bipper as a cat!” underneath it. All is right in the world at this moment. I couldn’t be happier. If you can, look upon that drawing and feel the joy enter your soul.

Category 11/Dipper’s page on Pacifica:  (underneath the photo of Archibald Corduroy) “Roses are red, Pacifica’s blood is blue, I read what you crossed out! I’m on to you! Start combing your hair, Brother! –Mabel” Dipifica fans are now 10x happier they purchased this book – or got to read that poem!

I’m Back page:  “I have found my old bottle of invisible ink! It was right where I left it 30 years ago – hidden inside the science fair trophy in my electron carpet room. Unfortunately, most of the ink is gone, and there’s a note on the bottle which reads: “Hey, dude! I tried to drink some of this and it made my tummy glow. Like Shimmery Twinkleheart! Ha ha! I think I’m gonna go lie down forever now. –Soos”

I’m Back adjacent page:  “What a waste! Although, I am amazed that “soos” survivied what should have been a lethal dose of ink. He must be one of the most fit and healthy men on Earth! It’s just as well – this ink did little to keep my secrets from Bill Cipher. And I may have permanent retina damage from constantly flipping the lights on and off while trying to read my own messages. NOTE TO SELF:  Invent bionic eyes. I’ll use what little ink I have left for some….private thoughts. NEW DIMENSION CHECKLIST:  

Read the past 30 years of newspapers. I wonder if whales have finally made it onto land and become the dominatnt species. Also, looking forward to seeing how advanced the lasted fax machines must be!

Catch my breath – literally! I haven’t breathed the proper combination of nitrogen, oxygen, and trace vapors in years. Air is great. Really can’t overemphasize how great air is.

Order red turtleneck sweaters in bulk.

Check out The Eurythmics’ latest chart-topper!

Invent something as a sign of goodwill towards my niece and nephew. What do kids like these days? Bionic arm-lasers? Maybe a pet Cthulhu?

ILJXUH RXW ZKDW D “VLOYHU IRA” LV DQG ZKV HYHUBRQH NHHSV. FDOOLQJ PH RQH.” [Translated with Caesar -3:  “Figure out what a “Silver Fox” is and why everyone keeps calling me one.”]

OMG

EVEN MORE PROOF THAT I LOVE THIS DAMN BOOK. THE LAST PAGE WHERE FORD WRITES:

��AN INITIATION:   to fully complete your initiation as an honorary Pines, there is one final task - to place your hand on this page, hold it while you charge up the black light and then remove your hand. See what happens? Welcome to the family! Zh’yh ehhq zdlqlqj iru brx – Stanford”

If that didn’t rip your heart out, translated with Caeser -3, the last line reads “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I’m literally tearing up. Thank you to everybody who made this book possible. I’ve never been so happy to pay over a hundred dollars for a book. It was worth every penny. And the weird nightmares I got after receiving it.

[Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3]

[impishnature]

Life Aboard The Stan’O’War

AO3

Sequel to The Light Keeper The Adventure of A Lifetime, Casper, Fisherman’s Friend

Rating: T

Summary: The Stan twins are finally setting off on the adventure of a lifetime, both ready to face whatever the sea has to throw at them. Though, sometimes…. it might not be the sea they have to worry about. At least the Stan’O’War will weather whatever storms they find themselves sailing through. Lighthouse Keeper AU.

A series of oneshots.  

AN: Two very different personalities can sometimes collide headlong.(Warnings: Panic attacks, intrusive thoughts) The next chapter is already up on patreon here. Come check it out!

Part 4: Stay Where I Can See You

.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sixer?!"

There were times when the jokes broke away, clattered down into the dark grey waves below. When the storms brewed and the dams burst.

When the banter and jovial tones morphed into something sharp and desperate, filled with worry and fear and a myriad of other painful emotions.

Times when anger took the stage.

Of course they would have disagreements, that was to be expected. Full scale arguments ricocheting across the deck in thunder claps of biting words when things went particularly wrong. Knowing they were inevitable, didn't make them any easier to deal with, however. Fortunately, they didn't happen often, and usually the worst arguments were fuelled more by nerve wracking fear for the other than anything else. But they couldn’t go for the rest of their lives always on the same side of a debate, it just wasn't possible, try as they might to compromise where possible. They were too unique, too different, too busy being stubborn and set in their own thought processes. They saw the world through different eyes, as they should, and whilst sometimes this led to frankly astronomical feats of brilliance that they would later regale the kids with, there were other moments when they clashed as fiercely as any storm the sea tried to dash them against the rocks with.

Actually, their arguments were somehow worse than anything the sea could throw at them.

…In fact their first proper fight was the worst for Ford.

Not because it was their first, mind, not because of that nervous stomach lurching worry that things were turning south. No, that quickly became lost amidst the cacophony of other panicked voices that would soon be recognised, their ringing words crashing over and swallowing whole any wayward thoughts of their wobbly bridge of a relationship being broken once more.

No, he would take whatever the sea had to throw at them rather than ever have that happen again.

It had all started with an average adventurous morning.

At least in his eyes.

In hindsight, he had been too reckless, too ready to jump full pelt into the unknown. His enthusiasm and curiosity had gotten the better of his common sense, throwing caution to the winds and unrepentantly watching it dance across the foam.

He could see some of that now, taking a step back and watching from the sideline like his brother must have done. But even with this knowledge, he didn’t know if he would do anything differently the next time, if and when another moment presented itself. Sure, with the knowledge of where it had gotten him, if he was given the chance to go back in time to that morning, he would be more cautious, more skeptical. But if it happened again in the future? He knew the answer to that already. He just wouldn't be able to resist the siren call.

He had seen a chance to investigate and he had taken it. The whispering curiosity, his own spinning sparkling thoughts and the thirst for knowledge as always taking over his senses with little room for logic or suspicion.

Or- he had tried to take it. Stan had grown suspicious almost immediately when he found Ford with the creature on deck, having been given no warning to their uninvited guest. His gut instinct on the matter had made the decision for both of them. He had voiced his concerns as soon as the shock of seeing it had worn off but Ford had brushed the words aside with a quick flippant gesture. Stan's concerns had almost irritated him, the flare of concern and shame that the creature would be offended dampened only by the comprehension that Stan was just trying to protect them.

Not everything was untrustworthy in the sea, no matter how much Stan believed the opposite. Everything they found he gave a wary, shifty once over before he approached, fists tightening in his pockets around his knuckledusters just in case they'd be needed even against the most docile looking creatures they came across. He’d much rather doubt, be cautiously mistrustful and skeptical, and apologise later for his actions, than walk naively into a trap on the very slim chance that this time it wasn’t one.

But Ford just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t view the world that way. He had to take risks, had to take the chances.

He couldn’t miss his shot.

If he hadn’t taken his chance, they wouldn’t even be on this trip in the first place.

Stan didn’t feel the same way about the world. That was for sure.

Unfortunately for Ford, Stan was also very good at reading both people and creatures. And if he was completely honest with himself, he did know, deep down, that Stan's gut feeling was usually something to be listened to, and if the creature really was docile, he would relax within a few moments and leave Ford to it or come over to join in on the research if the creature piqued his interest enough as well.

...This was not one of those times.

He had abruptly dragged Ford away from the enthralling creature, getting only a disconcerted and frustrated sound for his efforts. The sound died fairly rapidly, caught somewhere before Ford could actually get any reproachful words out. The creature's seemingly well-tempered nature had shifted almost imperceptibly and Stan had heeded the warning, locking on to the subtle body language that something was not as it should be. And not a moment too soon, a sharp glittering rain of needled darts falling where they had both been standing only seconds before, peppering the wood with enough force to stand upright.

Ford didn't even have chance to take a breath before Stan had left his side again, landing a solid punch on the creature, raring and ready to follow up the motion with his own rain of blows in return to its attack. It took that moment before the second blow hit, to finally break away from the boat and slipped back into the sea from whence it came. Stan watched it go, lip curling viciously, snarling all the while, as if daring it to come back for another round in the ring with him.

Suffice to say, it did not return.

And when he was sure that it had received the message, he turned that anger on Ford.

Ford froze, still half sprawled across the deck where Stan had dropped him, as granite cold eyes locked onto him, pinning him to the floor with their intensity. He felt like a deer in headlights as Stan turned to him, face filled with a ferocity he'd never expected to see directed at himself.

"Well? Were you even thinking?" Stan scoffed at his own words as Ford continued to stare up at him, mouth open, his tongue made useless from shock. "No, of course you weren't! For a genius you aren't half-" His words strangled themselves as he gestured around wildly. "Why can't you just listen, Sixer? It was so obvious that that thing couldn't be trusted but no, you know exactly what you're doing at all times, don't you? Don't need anyone's help ever, now do you?"

For some reason the words snapped him back to reality, stung more than they should have as he finally straightened and stood up, dusting himself off as he did so as nonchalantly as he could muster. "Now, come on, Stan, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? Reasonable? Kind of hard when you put your life on the line for no good reason." Stan huffed, arms crossing as he tapped his foot in agitation, short sharp bursts of pent up rage and adrenaline filled fear cracking through the deck with every footfall.

"I didn't put my life on the line, you're exaggerating." Ford rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation as he walked over to examine one of the barbs the creature had left behind. He had barely even leaned down to pull one out of the wood when he was harshly tugged back by the collar of his coat.

"Didn't- what do think those things are, Sixer? Friendliness spikes? The way whatever it was says 'hello'?" Stan's frustration was bleeding through the words, but it was the fear gleaming in his eyes that really turned Ford's stomach and caused the stream of cold, cloying shame to slide down his spine. "Come on, bro." His words came out like a concerned parents', desperate to prove his point. "You can't just take everything at face value and blindly hope that it's safe."

The shame burned away at his words, irritated offence rising up to obliterate it as he yanked himself from his grasp. "Really? And what should I do exactly? Just stay on the boat and never do any research at all?"

Stan growled, hands flexing as he tried to figure out what to do with all the emotion threatening to bubble over, especially now Ford wasn't within shaking distance. "No, you know that's not what I meant! I- Just- you need to be more careful, Sixer!"

"What? Be like you, you mean? Never giving anything the benefit of doubt before you're suspicious of it?" Before Stan could respond, his face obviously in agreement, he shook his head vehemently. "I can't do that, Stan! I don't want to do that. There are so many wonders out there and you want me to treat them all with mistrust. Can you even imagine how many chances I'd miss doing that? All the valuable research that would be lost by taking a step back?" Ford head continued to shake as he took a step back, though slower now, his gaze appraising Stan sadly, disappointment marring the words he knew in hindsight he should never have let slip out. "What happened to you, Stan? You were always up for a challenge, but now you-"

The words died almost as soon as they left his mouth, shrivelling up and falling flat in the air in front of him as he realised just what he had been saying. Stan's eyes narrowed, the fear in them sharpening back to incredulous anger and Ford couldn't help the gulp, nor the shiver that went down his spine as the tension in the air darkened tenfold. "N-now, Stan-"

"What happened to me?" Stan's voice was as cold and sharp as the North wind. Each word, hard and heavy as stones, dropped to the floor one by one to crack loudly and ricochet across the otherwise silent deck. He might as well have thrown one from the flinch that Ford gave, the rumble of thunderous rage making him instantly regret his mouth running away with him. "What happened to me? How about we talk about what happened to you?" He pointed at him, freezing him once again in place. "How about we talk about you and how that god damn thing lured you out into the water? Or how about how I lost you for thirty long years because of it, how about that?"

"Stan-"

"No? You don't want to talk about that? You don't want to talk about how that creature twisted it's way into your head and out you went in that boat of yours-" Stan's hands danced, flippant and dramatic, to the side as they mocked Ford's oblivious motions in the past. "-without a care in the world? You don't wanna talk about where that got you?"

"Hey now, that's not fair." Ford's resolve hardened, stubborn and steadfast, his own irritation brewing at the fact that he didn't really have anything to throw back at him, his mind blanking out in the face of Stan's questions. But even so in his heart he knew that there was a fundamental flaw to Stan's words, one that smothered his own quaking doubts.

"Not fair? Not fair?" Stan looked up at the sky for strength, his arms wide and open in disbelief. "I can't believe you. Not fair?" His head flopped back down to fix Ford with a bitter reproachful expression. "You know what's actually not fair? Losing you for thirty years. Me bringing it up when you're obliviously making the exact same mistakes again? I think that's damn well fair!"

"I am not making the same mistakes again!" Ford snapped back. He took vindictive pleasure in reaching down again for some of the spines, snatching them up before spinning on his heel and going towards the cabin, done with this entire exchange. "And I'll prove it! These spines were a self defence tactic in response to your actions."

"...Are you really that blind, Sixer?"

The words were quieter, more lost and vulnerable but the fire was still burning for Ford and he knew if he turned around, then that would be the end of it. He refused to turn around and give in. "No, I'm not. You're the one in the wrong here. My research is valuable! We don't get anywhere by keeping our distance and not interacting with the specimens." His hand tightened around the spines, feeling them crunch slightly at the action. "You're the one making the mistake here, Stan, not me. You can't expect me to be cautious of everything we come across."

"I can't expect you to be careful?"

Ford snorted. "This? Coming from you? Of all people?"

"God damn it, Sixer! I can't lose you again!"

The words burst out from behind a dam, laced with insidious concern and unadulterated fear that bit deep into Ford's resolve, his own sparking fire doused quickly by the wave of emotion rolling over his back.

He knew Stan's anger, his fretting and his hesitance all came from the heart, all with good intentions.

But really- what was the point in this trip if they were just going to sit quietly by the sidelines all the time?

They might as well have stayed at the lighthouse, if that was the case. Couldn't Stan see that?

Honestly, he thought they'd gotten over this hurdle before they'd even left.

"Stan, I'm going to go back to my studies now. Once you've calmed down, we can discuss this." The words came out in a disappointed sigh.

"Calmed down? No, we're talking about this now!"

"If you can't be reasonable, then there's frankly nothing to talk about."

Silence met the cold hollow remark for a few seconds, the atmosphere brewing thicker and darker with every held breath.

And then a snarl tore through it all.

"Fine, you wanna play that game? I can play that game."

Ford wasn't sure if he was relieved or nervous as he heard Stan's footsteps stomp further away, the man otherwise completely silent. Part of him was glad for the peace and quiet after the outbursts, but it was so unlike Stan to be that quiet, to give in, that it unnerved him, his gut churning that he had made a terrible mistake.

The barbed spines crunched in his hand as he worried them, dragging back his wayward thoughts. He glanced down at them with a nod, steeling himself as he ignored Stan and continued into the cabin.

He just had to prove Stan wrong and then he'd be able to argue his case.

"Why did you have to be right?"

Ford leaned back in his chair with a long suffering sigh. After running a number of tests he had determined that the barbed edge of each individual spine was covered in a viscous liquid that upon further investigation were very much venomous. This on it's own didn't give him the final conclusion but now armed with the knowledge and the other evidence he had managed to gather at the time, he was starting to suspect that even in this he didn't have a leg to stand on.

He groaned again, flopping forward to hold his head in his hands, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together into a narrative he understood. The creature had been startled by Stan's movements, that had caused the self defence reaction. The venom on the spines was to stop them following-

But he knew that wasn't the case, deep down. He couldn't actually tell now as he cast his mind back who had moved first- the creature or Stanley. And not only that but the mannerisms, the camouflaged sea toned scales and the way it had slowly shuffled him closer and closer to the edge of the boat as if it had done the motion countless times before with curious sailors, all now pointed towards an intelligent predator instead of terrified prey.

There had been no hesitance in it's movements, no alert, nervous shifting whilst aboard the boat, nor had there been any wide eyed panic to accompany it's 'self defence' tactic.

In fact, it hadn't seemed phased by anything that had happened, not until Stan had thrown a punch at it and caught it off guard.

Only then had it deemed either of them a threat and left them alone.

Admit it, you were wrong.​

Ford whined again, frustratedly into his hands. How was he meant to prove Stan wrong if he kept being so right?

He couldn't always be right about these things! He had to be able to prove to his brother that there was actually some good to come out of the sea.

He had to make him see that the world wasn't as dark as he envisioned it.

He had to prove to him- no, to himself that the world was filled with things other than the monsters. He needed Stan to be wrong, he needed to know there was something out there, breathtakingly kind and beautiful to strive to find. He needed to know that the water held glimmering specks of light that would keep him afloat, dazzling fascinating creatures that held no malice to keep him from drowning in the darkness and taking everything with him.

He needed to know that being idealistic wasn't naive.

He needed to know that the creature in the bay, and its ice cold, silent prison, had been left far behind and the rest of the world lay ahead of them, filled with wonder and excitement. Every hit from a new creature tricking him, luring him in, was another chink in the armour that said you're wrong, the world is filled with monsters. Every time it happened, he found himself losing a little bit of the spark that kept him from hesitating, losing a little bit more of the adventurous gleam that had him rushing forwards wherever the wind and waves would take him.

Left him wondering whether any of this had been a good idea.

Left him wondering whether Stan had had a point all that time ago, high up in the lighthouse, about staying safe. That maybe there was something for them both on land that would be less harsh, less perilous than this trip upon the waves.

And every time his heart ached at the thought. And what was to say the land wasn't any less treacherous?​

No, this was on him. It didn't matter where they went, this would always happen. He just couldn't resist temptation, the thrill, the excitement, the thirst for knowledge.

Reckless. Useless. What will you do if Stan gets hurt because of your foolhardy nature?​ You always thought it'd be the other way round. That Stan would forever get you into trouble. But Stan grew up. When are you going to finally follow suit?

Ford shivered at the voice, the snarling, barbed, shameful tongues slashing through any arguments he tried to dredge up against the onslaught. In their wake they left behind images. Stan falling into the waves, Stan pushing him out of the way to receive the blow from a creature-

Stan riddled with barbed spines, dropping to his knees in front of him.

He should have left you in the water where you belonged. At least he'd be safe​.

Ford froze at the callous whisper, so familiar and yet so alien to his thoughts. That voice had filtered through his nightmares, slipped into the crevices of his thoughts to startle him awake or to whisper from the darkness of the cabin when the world was still and silent, leaving him feeling cold and clammy, his stomach roiling nauseating as he stumbled up from his bed.

But never had the voice been so clear, the words sharp and whole and far more real than in the dead of night.

He listened intently, holding his breath and waiting patiently for that glass sharp chuckle. His eyes flickered wildly for any sign of toxic yellow glittering from the dark spaces of the room, his heart beat quickened as his eyes locked to the edge of the bed, the dark space below a gaping maw where anything could be hidden but his body refused to check, locked in place as he held on white-knuckled to the edge of his chair.​ He still continued to look though, still continued to listen and wait for a sign- anything that would prove that it wasn't all in his head, that his own mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Really though he was mostly hoping that it was his own treacherous thoughts. His own vitriolic emotions twisting his words into another creatures voice to make them ten times worse, instead of the world actually having shifted back into colder, devastating waters.

Silence met him as he continued to wait. Nothing moved, nothing glinted.

Nothing.

Yet the seed of doubt had now sprouted. The crawling, shuffling panic refused to be so easily quelled beneath logic and rationale. The breath he had been holding rushed out of him in a gasp of frost, his chest heaving beneath the sudden need for air, the sound loud and ragged to his ears even as he tried to clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

After all, all he'd been all day was wrong. How could he trust his own thoughts, his own senses, when earlier he couldn't even tell the difference between predator or prey?

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as his mind swirled, anxious and unrelenting. There were still no signs of danger, yet the air around him became charged with his suspicions and doubts, fizzling and sparking with even the slightest movement. His skin crawled, small whispering trails carving goosebumps into his flesh as the gloom seemed to draw inwards, the corners of his vision blurring and darkening as his breathing quickened further. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself and hunching over as he tried to get his breathing back on track, the noise grating painfully to his ears and he half expected to see an icy mist stutter away from him with every exhale.

It was the damnable silence that got to him though, the echoing cavernous abyss. He choked on air as the solid wave of nothingness hit him, abruptly underwater again as he gurgled and spluttered. Water encased his ears, muffling his own clattering as he forced himself away from the desk, the water obstructing his throat, the thin tinny whistling of his own constricted airway, the only thing he could focus on as the memory took over his senses.

It was too quiet, too cold, and he couldn't trust his senses when they swayed between a dreamlike vision of a boat cabin and the steady unrelenting abyss that had been his reality for so long. Couldn't trust any of it, when his vision tunnelled, everything blurring at the edges, dark spots blinking in and out of existence as if he was staring at two water stained photos.

Move. Get out. Get to the deck. The light and the heat will help. Just. Move.​

The sharp crack of the chair falling to the floor brought some marginal sense back to him, eyes pulled unwittingly towards it as he took a deep lungful of air, his throat free from water once more as the brackish abyss fizzled in his peripheral instead of engulfing him entirely. He took the needed push the sound granted him, fumbling towards the door in a rush of shaking steps and throwing it open in a quick burst of adrenaline.

The light engulfed him, blinded him and suddenly he could breathe freely again as the ice thawed from his veins and reality became sharp and tangible once more.

Ford blinked rapidly, eyes watering, but he couldn't allow himself to close them for any long period of time, the darkness behind his eyelids too much to bear. He knew this wasn't the end of it, knew the insidious thoughts were buzzing away behind the stinging light, just waiting to drag him back down below the surface if he gave them chance.

Unlike his vision, his ears were still clogged with phantom water that he couldn't seem to shake away, giving every sound a muffled, ringing quality. The sea was there, he could see it, smell it but the slapping waves were nothing more than a tinny mumble to him, so close and yet so far all at once and he knew it wasn't enough to focus on. He could feel himself slipping, feel the whispers beginning to seep back through to drown him once more and there was nothing he could do-

A much louder, more commanding sound broke through the glaze in a short sharp burst of energy. It tore the stuffing from his ears as the sound continued, a piercing painful melody to drag him back to Earth with.

Or as much of a melody as the angry sound could physically muster. But as awful as Ford would normally find it, he couldn't help but think, in that moment, that it was the most perfect thing he'd ever heard.

His breaths came more easily after a moment, the tight constricting band around his chest easing as the loud ruckus ripped through the fog in his head. It cut the swirling, spiralling strands of thought into ribbons that fell away to nothingness and left his mind blissfully blank as he stumbled across the deck. The giddy hysterical notion that his body was acting like he no longer had sea legs just managed to slip past the high pitch cacophony that had made itself at home in his head as he made his way over to his brother's back, the offending harmonica tight in his hands as he blasted his anger out across the waves. He could see it in his tense shoulders, in his straight back and gritted jaw- all that fear, all that frustration billowing out of him and although a flicker of shame rooted itself inside him at the sight, it fell short of the thrum of pure boneless relief that flowed across his skin and washed away the crawling sensation that had been there before.

He blinked, and in that instant found himself abruptly beside Stan, the short trek it had taken to get to him a mystery, in the heady daze he had found himself in. He hesitated for a second at the realisation, hands gripping the railing tightly. He didn't like how bewildered and lost he felt. His skin was not his own, tingling and fizzling like something sat below the surface, every movement felt sluggish and strange, as if the route between his brain and muscles had become a winding maze without him noticing. He was trapped, both inside and outside his own head, fighting for some semblance of normality, as his thoughts refused to co-operate and let him logically think, too caught up in the nauseating sensation of just how wrong everything felt..

The sharp short whistle of the instrument in his brother's hands caught him again before the the panic could really set, dragging his focus away from the disconcerting feeling of not being there entirely.

He continued to move his hands across the metal rail, letting it soothe him, letting himself tap out a soft beat in the hopes his heart would follow suit even as he continued to listen intently. He closed his eyes for a second, basking in the warmth of the sun, the last dregs of the cold mist evaporating before he finally turned to his brother. He opened his mouth to say anything, hesitating only then when he belatedly remembered that the last time they had spoken had been in the midst of a full blown argument.

Ford didn't know what to say.

"Hey Stan, turns out you were right?"   "Hey Stan, I know I was wrong but I can justify it-" "Hey Stan, so- I'm sorry?"

None of them sounded quite right.

But he knew he had to start somewhere as his brother continued to stare resolutely out towards the sea, the heat of his ire practically pulsing out of him, hotter than the sun.

Ford winced but stood up straight, steeling himself up for the moment.

At least Stan's anger was warm and real and ever so loud.

As much as he didn't want Stan to be angry with him or upset in any way, shape, or form, Ford couldn't deny that his pure, unadulterated presence did wonders for the damp nothingness that had started to leach into his skull.

"Hey, Stan?"

Stan purposefully ignored him, eyes still locked on the horizon as he played his harmonica, the sound viciously loud as it echoed out across the water.

Ford gulped at the stark coldness of his response against the burning heat of his body language. The crawling itch resumed, running down his spine once more.

Maybe he should have started with the 'I'm sorry' after all.

He just knew that the next words that would come after would be 'I'm sorry, really I am, but you need to understand-'.

And from experience with not only Stan but his old friend and assistant Fiddleford, he had learnt long ago that that was a terrible way to apologise and usually ended with, at the very least, another argument if not worse.

The itch spread further, tingling into his extremities, the feeling that something was watching them both, eyes burning ice cold into the back of his skull.

"Come on, Stan."

The words came out unbidden, tumbling out as the force of his unsettled nerves set things into motion.

He needed Stan to acknowledge him, even if it was just to shout at him again. Anything to confirm that the darkness wasn't looming over him again and tugging him back down into it's gaping maw.

Anything to stop him from drowning in the depths of the panic that was ebbing and flowing through him like the tides, crashing waves hitting him from every angle as the currents of his fears tried to drag him down with them. It crept up and up, the waters rising through his windpipe, slowly pushing onward until he was sure it would soon submerge him completely, suffocate him- and there was nothing he could do, not on his own, his mind struggling against the currents fruitlessly as they dashed him against the rocks. He was captured entirely in their sway as his heartbeat pulsed in his ears, his throat constricting painfully-

The music beside him came to a sudden, sharp halt.

Ford blinked, his breath whistling out of him in a warbling hiss as he turned to his brother. He watched him inhale deeply, twisting the harmonica in his hands a few times as he gazed at the light hitting the silver surface with rapt attention. He breathed in tandem with his twin's even breaths, smiling softly as the sudden shifts in noise brought him back to reality over and over again.

And now with the harmonica away from Stan's lips, perhaps he was ready to talk to him again.

"Thanks, Stan."

Ford frowned as Stan continued his scrutiny of the instrument without so much as glancing up at his words.

There was nothing between them now, no way he couldn't have heard him through the small breeze fluttering around them.

"I- are you waiting for me to say 'sorry' because I can do that if you want-"

Stan sighed deeply, cutting him off before raising the harmonica back to his lips and starting on another tune, one more melodic and less filled with irritation but another song all the same.

And the world fell around Ford's ears, crashing into the waves below and leaving him completely hollow and weightless.

Is he- Can he not hear me?​

His breathing started to quicken again as Stan turned away from him, walking across the deck as if he'd never seen him beside him. The fuzzy darkness returned at the edges of his vision, the looming cold crawling across every expanse of skin as the wind cut through him. A voice in his mind told him none of it was real, it was just a breeze, a warm one at best, and yet he couldn't stop the shivers, shuddering as it danced across his flesh over and over again.

None of it mattered, Stan hadn't heard him, Stan hadn't seen him.

You're invisible. You're just a ghost.​ You're all alone again.​

Well... not entirely alone.

The voice re-emerged. Sickly sweet and soothing in the worst kind of way. It set his teeth on edge, every fibre of his being telling him to flee, not to trust it, not to let it in, not to let it trick him or calm him down again. It's peace was a lie, one that stripped him of his mind, his memories- everything that made him him.

It had made him forget Stan.

The thought send another flood of panic through him, his throat constricting further and refusing to co-operate as he sunk to his knees, his hands clawing as his neck, expecting to find some kind of resistance there that was stopping him from breathing, his eyes still locked to his brother's retreating back.

A ringing started to sound through his ears, muffling Stan's tune, the real world becoming a blurring mass behind his own heavy breathing and the constant tinny ring that quickly morphed into a dark twisted chuckle.

Stan couldn't see him, couldn't hear him and the creature was back and it was going to make him forget everything again, all that they had done together in the time that he had escaped. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know why it was happening this time and he couldn't seem to get his body to respond to his own thoughts, the panic too all-consuming for him to fight through. And every layer added a new fresh wave of hysteria, his legs refusing to hold his weight, his vision fading in and out, all pointing him towards the dizzying, terrifying conclusion that his body was already lost below the waves again and he hadn't even known it.

You're not really here. He's already got you and Stan doesn't even know. He doesn't know you need help this time. And soon enough you're going to forget he even exists, forget he would ever come looking for you if he could.

​​The fear rose to a crescendo and suddenly broke the dam, the water flooding out of him along with a panicked trail of choked words as air rushed in.

"Stan! Stan, please! I'm sorry- so- sorry. Please-"

Stan was already beside him after the first 'please' but the words kept rushing out even as his brother knelt before him.

"I can't do this alone- not again- Stan, please. I'll apologise forever if you can just hear me-"

"Hey, Sixer, I'm here. I'm right here."

"I think I'm there again, I don't want to forget- please don't let it make me forget-"

"Sixer!" A large hand engulfed his shoulder, cutting his panicked thoughts and words short. The solid presence let him breathe in again, gasping for air as his eyes found Stan looming above him, eyes wide with concern and swimming with guilt though he couldn't quite fathom why. "You're not there, Sixer, I promise. I've got you, you're safe, you're right here on the Stan'O'War II just like you're meant to be." His eyes steeled into something darker, his other hand coming to cover his other shoulder, the harmonica clattering carelessly to the floor as Ford's eyes followed the movement listlessly before zoning back into Stan's eye contact, dazed and boneless, exhausted with relief. "That thing's never getting hold of you again, do you hear me? I won't let anything hurt you, Sixer."

A small traitorous voice in his head reminded him that's all he was trying to do this morning.

But in that instant the voice fell on deaf ears as Ford's shaking hands went to latch around Stan's wrists, taking so much comfort in the feel of his pulse, in the knowledge that this was real and he wasn't floating into nothingness. It took a lot of effort for the movement, his entire body feeling worn out, as if the adrenaline had left him in one fell swoop to puddle on the deck listlessly. The words slipped out again, much quieter and in a warble of pure exhausted emotion as he stared at Stan with watery eyes. "You- you can hear me."

Stan blinked at him a few times, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly before a surging stream of vehement expletives left him. He glanced up towards the sky, as if gathering his thoughts, and then back to Ford, giving his shoulders a tight squeeze, eyes once again brimming with heated frustration and behind that, a deep set self-disgust.

"Jesus, I should have realised. I am so sorry- You said to- But I still shouldn't have- I was just so-" He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath before he opened them once more, reproach welling within them but Ford didn't know who for. "You told me to leave you alone until I could be reasonable, Poindexter. I may have taken that a bit more literally than you actually meant, it seems."

Ford stared at him owlishly, the argument from that morning slowly trickling back into his skull in drips and drabs, his mind sluggish from the upheavals that had happened since. The morning felt like it could have been a week ago, not mere hours. Until suddenly it clicked.

"If you can't be reasonable, there's nothing to talk about."

And the first thing he said to Stan as soon as he gave him a moment to was-

"I- are you waiting for me to say 'sorry' because I can do that if you want-"

It was little wonder really that Stan had irritatedly turned away from him without a word. Natural even. Stan wasn't ready to be reasonable when he thought he was in the right and Ford had shown that he hadn't actually come to see him to apologise.

It made sense, it really did.

It just hadn't at the time, with paranoia creeping up on him and the dreadful twisted thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't even here to begin with. He could still feel the tremors running through him at the mere suggestion, could feel Stan periodically tightening his hold in pulses to ground him in reality, his face twisting with a myriad of emotions that made it clear he regretted his actions entirely.

Stan was mad at him, of course he was, but he never wanted to hurt him.

He hadn't meant to give him the silent treatment for any other reason than the fact that Ford had actually suggested the action from the beginning.

So if he hadn't thought that through himself, how could he have expected Stan to?

"Oh."

Stan winced at the sound, flinching ever so slightly back as he waited for a more visceral response, waited for Ford to snap at him or throw a punch for scaring him like that, but Ford didn't have it in him to be angry through the relief, nor could he really blame Stan's actions. Especially not when even whilst waiting for some kind of backlash his brother was still carefully maintaining contact, his hands now running up and down Ford's arms as if to keep him warm.

"Oh."

Stan turned back to him skeptically as he continued to just make small noises of understanding, his eyebrows furrowing together as he hesitantly spoke up again. "I mean- you did tell me not to talk to you."

Ford gave a wobbly half-hearted smile as he sagged in towards Stan, letting him engulf him in a hug. "I- it appears my calculations on the matter were rather incorrect."

"Yeah, I can see that." Stan ran a hand up and down his back, continuing the soothing pressure as Ford finally let his body relax entirely, his eyes shutting as another shuddering breath tore through him and left him wearier but far more reassured than before.

There was something nagging him though, a small snippet of a voice that told him he should make things better before he fell asleep.

"Hey, Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right, that creature wasn't acting in self-defence."

"Self-de- you really thought it might be- damn it, Sixer." Stan sighed, a long deep suffering sound that made Ford wince.

"I just- I wanted to prove to you that some things aren't as bad as you think they are."

Stan sighed again, more of a disappointed understanding groan, but gripped him tighter at the same time. "I know. I know that you can't help it and you want to see the good in the world but it just- it terrifies me, Sixer, how easily you'd walk into danger."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I know. I'm just scared one day I won't be able to help you."

Ford gave a dark hollow laugh that had Stan clutching him tighter. "I- I think I learnt that today."

"I wish you hadn't. I'm sorry." Stan propped his head on top of Ford's. "I- I've got to get used to you running headfirst into things. I'm not used to it being that way round. It was always me who did that, cause I could take it." He ignored the disapproving noise muffled into his coat. "But- what matters is the fact that, I'll always be here, you know? For moments like this morning when I had to drag you away from that- whatever it was-" He again ignored the muffled response that said Ford had decided to try and educate him on the matter. "No matter how angry I am at you, or how much you tell me not to get involved. I'm always going to be there, right beside you to pull you out of harms way, OK?"

Ford nodded against him, hands pushing him away so that he could lean beside him instead, resting his head on his shoulder as Stan shifted to give him a one armed hug, the pair of them staring out to sea. "Yeah." He gave another shuddering breath, relaxing into the hug. "Yeah, OK."

There was quiet for a while after that, though a much more peaceful lull than the one before, the pair of them basking in the warm presence of an argument finally breaking like a storm and leaving them back on familiar ground. Or more of a semi-quiet, punctuated by soft hums, questioning and concerned, and steady movements as Stan kept checking up on Ford and on making sure he knew he was right there beside him. Not that it was strictly necessary, the constant pressure of his arm around him was doing wonders for that sentiment.

Ford wasn't complaining though, warmed by the comforting gestures.

And then Stan gave a soft chuckle, a vibration of strange amusement that rattled Ford where he sat.

Ford's eyebrows furrowed, though his mouth twitched upwards slightly at the change in atmosphere as he shuffled to look up at Stan curiously, nudging him when he didn't get the hint.

"Sorry, just-" Stan looked down at him, a mischievous grin on his face. "Guess you'll have to deal with all my complaining from now on, won't you?" He prodded Ford in the side, tickling him slightly and making him squirm. "No running away from an argument next time, we're gonna have to talk it through like adults."

"You?" Ford swiped at his hands half-heartedly, smiling himself as he raised an eyebrow. "An adult?"

"...Fair. But if you think I'm letting you out of my sight next time, you've got another thing coming."

Ford gave a relieved sound, one that sobered the moment slightly as the mischief vanished from Stan's gaze. "I'm fine with that. Absolutely fine with that." The words came out slightly more desperate than he had intended, Stan's quick nod a show of how seriously he was taking it, even if he was trying to joke around the subject.

"Don't you worry bro, there won't be no more silent treatment on this boat."

"Thanks, Stan."

Stan laughed, turning round to him fully, cheeky grin back in place. "Oh, I wouldn't thank me yet. We still haven't sat down and been reasonable about what happened earlier, so how about we start with that?"

Ford gave a deep groan, rolling his eyes, though a similar smile marred his features. This really was far preferable to the gloomy fog that had engulfed him on his own, the silent, cold, darkness that his mind had presented him with when an argument loomed so heavily Stan wasn't ready to speak to him.

He would take whatever Stan could throw at him rather than ever have that happen again.

Thankfully, if Stan had anything to say about it, it never would.

.

AN: I feel so mean. Boys need to communicate ;A;

Random little bit of trivia - was gonna write only a few oneshots and this was one of them. Then I read all my notes and ended up with 8 XD