#i think ford would TRY to be good to shifty

[korovaoverlook]

fiddleford has very unusual letter openers

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

In Stan was framed to breaking the perpetual motion machine au, does Ford try to be a good uncle even with his strained relationship with Stan?

Like he find ways to sneak into Shifty’s birthday party and then stares Stan directly in the eyes and is like I’m already here so you can’t kick me out plus I have a birthday gift ready!

Shifty is about to go to his first day of school and Uncle Ford has somehow knew about it, and shows up to tell him good luck. And Oh what a coincidence Stan, I was just chasing an anomaly and I somehow arrived at the school what an incredible coincidence.

And I just so happen to a cookie to give to Shifty, oh my I wonder how that got there.

Depending on how long the feud goes I wonder if when Mabel and Dipper show up for the summer to get away from their fighting parents, are thrust into another situation where two family members are fighting. But maybe with time it’s coded with the heavy undertones that neither want to really fight anymore but are doing to keep up appearances and it’s the only way they can really see eachother anymore. And are scared by not making the thing a fight, the other will move on and won’t have a reason to talk to them anymore.

Or maybe Ford and Stan get parent trapped by Shifty and the McGuckets.

Or maybe Ford and Stan share beef/rivalry with Gideon and temporarily put their own issues and past aside to team up to take down that kid.

Ford is using his uncle status as another means to one up Stan. Stan might be this very human baby's father but Fords going to be his nephews preferred adult if it kills him.

Shows up to all the birthdays with fancy presents. Has a little gift bag for his first day of school and a whole speech about how proud he is. Keeps all his favorite treats on hand (he keeps a list) for bribing reasons. The only reason he's not 'winning' is because 'daddy let's me stretch whenever I want' whatever that means.

I don't think it'd go for 30 years. I think 6 years in such close proximity is almost a stretch, as there's no way they could be within fist fighting distance for so long without getting into some kind of trouble that let's their real emotions come out. And if not then the McGuckets would stage an intervention, because they're tired if hearing the Pines complain about each other.

[inkyrainstorms]

Reverse Portal au, I know ppl for some reason say that Ford wouldn’t bring Stan back so to counter that I had this au in mind.

Reverse Portal au, where it seems like everything wants Stanford to stop working on the Portal but he somehow persists each time. He will get his brother back, no matter what.

He gets blasted with the memory gun by the Blind eye society, forgetting Stanley in the first place but the photo Ford has on him of himself and Stanley as children gets him to remember and goes back to working on Portal and now keeping an eye out for the Blind Eye, if he has to act oblivious now and more cautious then he will do so. But the problem is he needs the other journals, he can’t remember how to work the portal.

His grant money runs out, the house is cold and he doesn’t have enough money to keep working on the portal or to get food. He sleeps in Stan’s car for the night, he misses his brother. After seeing the state of his brother’s car, he slowly realizes that Stan’s been living in his car…this whole time. And now that he thought about it, Stan did look disheveled when he got to Ford’s house. Ford’s hands tremble and he cries that night. But by the next morning, he makes a plan and sell some of his inventions and idea to the government. He needs the money to keep going, he needs the money to survive long enough to save his brother.

He eventually makes a museum out of gravity falls oddities, selling out the things he once found comfort and he saw himself in.

He works for years, he misses Stanley. Scenarios run through Ford’s mind wondering if Stanley is still dead or alive, or if Bill got to him.

If…

Ford often stares at the photo, his brother, he just… he needs to work more. He hasn’t been working enough. Why hasn’t he brought Stanley back yet?!?

What good are his brains if he can’t get his brother back?!?

Ford spends a year taking a break. An off year, because he eventually reaches a limit, and if he pushed any farther then, he would have died and then Stanley wouldn’t have been able to make it back at all. Ford wanders Gravity falls again, wondering if he can bring back the passion he once had for the small town. But now, he feels like it’s a place of his failures, of his loss and the things he exploited.

Things start to turn up, when a small boy by the name of Zeus? Ah! Soos.

Starts being Ford’s assistant. Soos for some reason, believes in him, and seems interested in the anomalies in a way that Ford hasn’t felt in a long time. Something about it warms his heart, he thinks that Stan would like the boy.

One of the days working the museum, a visitor crashes through. Another one of his mistakes, Shifty the Shapeshifter. The creature is anguished by its abandonment. Not understanding why Ford did it.

It… Ford feels for them. It’s them now. Shifty unintentionally or not, saw Ford as a parental figure, Ford doesn’t know how to feel about that. Ford tells them that he can’t reverse what he did, locking them down there, but he offers to try to make amends.

Shifty, his child…. agrees.

With Shifty living with him, and Soos helping about, his house starts to feel less lonely. Ford wonders how Stan would feel about his new nibling. Ford wonders if Stan has a family out there in the unknown.

Things start to change again when Boy-ish Dan, now Manly Dan’s wife went missing. The whole town searched for her to no avail. Ford wonders if the supernatural took her, or maybe the society of the blind eye.

Manly Dan’s daughter is a troublemaker, stealing from the museum gift shop, going around with her friends spray painting the sides of buildings.

Ford didn’t like her at first. Despite her cool demeanor, she was certainly a troublemaker. Ford would not admit that he antics weren’t familiar though. He wonders if Stan would like her.

However despite their rough start, Ford ends up hiring her, saving her from her dreadful “logging” camp for the summer. He hires her to straighten her out a bit, if she’s going to do crimes might as well teach her not to get caught.

The name Fiddleford is a name Ford hasn’t heard in a long time, after the Blind Society of Eye, Ford tended to avoid his old friend not…out of fear of course but out of self preservation, he couldn’t afford to have the Blind Eye Society descend down on him again, not when he was so close. He has so much to lose.

But…Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t see Fiddleford around town all those years, looking more and more feral each time Ford saw him.

Sometimes Ford would quietly follow his old friend to the dump where his old friend resides in.

To make sure his friend makes it home safely. And occasionally he left a basket for his old friend and his raccoon wife. It ate Ford up inside but he couldn’t do much more than that.

When Ford first laid eyes upon little Mason and little Mabel, he practically melted into a puddle. They were so small, so so small. And even as small as they were they held onto eachother tightly, as if they were afraid the world would separate them. Ford wondered if he and Stanley were like that when they were born. He wished Stanley were here to see it.

His tiny itty bitty grandniece held onto his fingers, holding them with her hands. Ford couldn’t stop himself from crying. And almost practically kidnapping them. They were so small, he needs to protect them, protect them from this cruel world that would separate them.

In the end he had to give Shermie back his grandchild and Shifty had to practically restrain Ford to get him to stop himself from stealing the twins dna, so he could replicate them and leave the replications as decoys so he can find a place to keep the originals safe from harm, from anything.

For his troubles Ford walked out with Shifty, with a bunch of pictures of his grandniece and grandnephew. Stanley would love them.

I’m tired so I’ll do a PT.2 later if you want.

Tbh I’m sending u this because both you and E agree with me about Ford would never give on Stan in a reverse portal au

Hopefully you enjoyed

YOU. YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING THSNK YOU FOR BLESSING MY ASK BOX WITH THIS. THIS IS BEAUTIFUL I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT.

the way Stanley is just… haunting Ford the entire time?? the way whenever he meets anyone or does anything, the specter of his brother follows him, a comfort and a reminder and a punishment all in one. Stanley would have loved this. Stanley was just like them. Stanley is jsut like them, because he can’t be dead yet, he can’t

be inclusion of Shifty makes me so so soft, that’s his baby, that’s his kid!!! and he fucked up but if given a second chance he would try. all this man does is try and try and hope for the best.

Wendy and Soos and the little twins are AAAAAAAAAAAAA ANON. YOUVE KILLED ME THIS IS SO TRAGIC AND SO CUTE. i’m so glad Ford wasn’t alone. i’m so fascinated by the idea of their lives playing out so similarly (in canon vs here) because yes, they’re a lot more alike than they’d ever like to admit.

i imagine him not having the journals is the main setback he faces, along with his loss of memories of where they are, and possibly a lot of the specifics of what they contain. thinking about it, Martian Stan! Ford was so so close to just being this guy. if he waited a day longer to get the journals, he’d be absolutely done for.

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Bill was gone, but he took something with him

It seemed, at first, that Stan was just the same: the same fun grunkle, the same shifty salesman, the same brother. Whatever happened inside his brain, however the memory gun worked, it had spared Stan the worst of it. Ford was suspicious; even as Fiddleford's memories came back, too, and the others stricken by the Society of the Blind Eye began to recall what had been taken from them, Ford observed his brother closely, concerned.

It started with pancakes. Stan made excellent pancakes, and he made a smiley face with marshmallows, chocolate chips, and edible glitter for Mabel just like she liked. Dipper's had an amount of butter and syrup that could not be good for his young arteries, and Ford's were plain, with just a light coating of butter, syrup on the side for dipping--- how they each preferred. Stan's, though, was the same as Ford's. There was nothing wrong with that--- except for the fact that Stan hated plain pancakes. He liked his absolutely drowning in flavored syrup, like Dipper. Ford convinced himself Stan was just trying something new, or maybe was finally growing up and acting like an adult.

But the trend continued- they went clothes shopping, because many of their possessions were destroyed when they turned the Mystery Shack into a Mystery Mech; Stan hovered over the cargo shorts, jeans, and Hawaiian shirts, but turned eventually to a sweater and straight-leg pants, the same kind Ford wore. When they watched a movie together, he always let Ford choose, at first; when Ford insisted Stan make a decision, he chose an old sci-fi movie, or a documentary, instead of the rom-coms, mysteries, and action thrillers Ford knew Stan preferred.

Ford shook the bad feeling off, at first: they'd hadn't seen each other in thirty years, and before that, had been separated for nearly a decade and a half. Surely, Stan's tastes had just changed--- matured, evolved, whatever. But it just didn't seem right; Stan's choices seemed at odds with the personality he still displayed. It made for a disjointed view of his character; he seemed conflicted whenever he had to make a decision, no matter how big or small.

It was a year after Bill's defeat, eight months after construction of the Stan o' War II was completed and they set sail around the world, that everything came to a head. All Ford wanted was for Stan to pick the restaurant after they had docked up in a marina somewhere on the east coast of Florida. And Stan--- well, he was picking restaurants, sure, but they were all ones that Ford would choose. And Ford kept pressing Stan to no, pick one Stan would like, and Stan would pick another that just felt uncharacteristic, and they went in circles about this for a while, until it jumbled into an argument. And just like any pair of siblings, they shouted about a lot of things, shit from last week and last month and fifty years ago, just for the hell of it, and finally Ford had snapped and cried---

"I don't think I even know who you are, anymore!"

And Stan, faced screwed up in anger, had shouted back, "and you think I do?"

And that just shut that argument down, didn't it? Cause Ford felt, in an instant, no anger, just grief.

Because, really, they both realized at that moment, when had Stan been allowed to be, well, Stan? For thirty years, habits of grifting maintained or not, Stanley was dead and it was Stanford doing the grifting. And before that, it was a host of fake identities, each further removed from the truth than the last, as Stan desperately fled across the country, running from himself. And before that, his teenage years were filled with just trying to be half as good as Ford, and so when was there ever time for Stan to be, wholeheartedly and without judgement, himself? What did he like? What did he want? Who was he? And it was just the cherry on top, he had to admit, when not even Bill, evil genius extraordinaire, couldn't tell his beautiful Artist apart from his failure of a twin brother.

His only worth, as far as he was concerned, was defeating Bill. That was done, and then what was supposed to be his ultimate sacrifice, that thing that would set him apart from his brother, ending up being, well, pretty OK in the end, if one didn't count how hard Mabel and Dipper cried.

So with Bill's defeat any idea of his identity also dissolved, that damned triangle cracking open a flood of insecurity. Bill had cackled, those final moments of breaking into a million atoms of forgotten nothingness, and Stan hadn't realized at first why he would be so happy. But while Bill couldn't grasp anything physical in his evil little paws, he was a trickster of the mind until the end.

Bill whispered it, as he died: what do you have left to do? And he was right: Ford was back, the kids were safe, Soos was running the Mystery Shack, and that left Stan to---

Well, he didn't quite know.

[cheemscakecat]

Shapeshifter rant [angst and yappery]

The big scary looking form he takes is basically a threat pose. Threat poses are what animals use to fight or scare off danger.

Cats puff out their tails and arch their backs:

It’s something that even kittens can do.

Tarantulas lift up their front legs and bare their fangs:

Octopi make themselves look poisonous and can flash colors to scare predators:

It makes sense to me that a shapeshifter would have a bigger, distorted version of their base/“true” form as a threat pose. And that babies would instinctively be able to make that form even if they haven’t seen an adult before.

I think Shifty’s base form, the one he reverts into when he’s relaxing or sleeping, is like the form we see, but smaller and more friendly looking. And that it’s as tall as a grown human or just a little bit shorter.

The shapeshifter is afraid of humans; they lied to him, kept him as a test subject, froze him, and then disappeared. He didn’t know if they were going to come back to experiment on him more, or if they would want to “finish the job.”

He tried to dig his way out of the bunker but was stopped by the steel lining. This form is still fast and very durable, which he would want if the humans ever came back.

This form was made to try and break through the lining of the bunker, but that didn’t work. Instead, Shifty took to hitting the lining to make this form stronger and tougher skinned.

He can perfectly replicate Ford and Fiddleford’s voices, but doing so fills him with rage and makes him crash out. For a time, he would purposely get himself riled up to “train” for the scientists to return.

But as decades passed and nobody came to poke, prod, refreeze, or kill him, Shifty felt he’d been left to rot and gave up.

He still doesn’t trust humans, new or not, children or not. And Dipper quickly proved himself to be a fanboy of the scientist that kept the shapeshifter locked away from the sun and sky, froze him, and then never came back.

The second he realized they knew he was a shapeshifter, he went straight to treating them like a threat. For all he knows human children could be just as dangerous as the adults, and he doesn’t want to be destroyed or captured.

Shifty’s not an evil monster, he believes humans are out to get him and wants to do everything he can to stay safe from them.

The reason he lost his temper when he couldn’t find Dipper and the others is because he had no idea what they might be planning, and no idea what they might be capable of.

Being alone in a bunker for 30 years thinking this way would do a number on anybody. He’s not mentally stable or willing to believe that these new people have good intentions. In his mind revealing himself from the start would be opening himself up to get attacked. Better to pretend to be one of them and figure out what they want.

The reason Shifty wanted the journal all those years ago was to find out Stanford’s true intentions for him. Somehow he overheard Fiddleford muttering about freezing him, and he simply had to know if the scientists were really going to do that. Ford freezing him just confirmed all his worst fears.

So why does he still want the journal, anyway? He feels that Stanford saw him as a monster, and when pretending to be Ford, he talks about himself that way. If he “knows” how the scientists really view him, why would it matter if he has the book or not?

It should have the answers on how to get out of the bunker. He hasn’t been able to escape, he can’t access the room with 50 years worth of food, he knows the outside world exists and would surely like to go there.

It’ll give him some closure in the form of seeing how much Ford despised him and decided to leave him to starve to death in the bunker. Dipper says the author has been missing, but Shifty’s spent 30 years stewing over the scientists betraying him. He’s fully in denial about Stanford or Mcgucket potentially being dead, the idea was just presented that day. No, the book will prove he was right all along, the scientists hated him and locked him away.

There are other creatures in Gravity falls that he could mimic, letting him run free in nature without worrying about humans tracking him down. Heck, maybe the humans actually like these other beasts. Maybe the journal will even give him some sort of insight on why humans are so disgusted with him in particular.

Revenge. The humans refused to let him have the book when they pretended to be friendly. Clearly it holds some sort of value and significance to Stanford. Taking the book and keeping it for himself would surely infuriate Ford. And quite frankly, that’s enough in the way of revenge because humans are too dangerous to be attacked.

On a lighter note, I think that the way Shifty was talking was basically like.. when a kid makes their voice deeper and makes fun of how an adult speaks. He is an adult, but mockingly speaking like Ford in his own voice was a good way to trick Dipper without risking getting angry hearing Stanford’s voice.

This is probably the dumbest headcanon of mine; if you could just be a fly on the wall, on a day where there’s no humans in the bunker stressing Shifty out, I think he would sound pretty similar to Luke Skywalker.

Not the exact same, especially with his emotional state, but similar.

[greentea-and-honey]

I’m so obsessed with tabula rasa I literally can’t stop thinking about it. Thank you for writing its so good. I’m so scared for the next chapter you have no idea. But also I’m so excited esp after re reading journal 3, the tests ford does on the kids when he first meets them low-key reminded me of the puzzle ‘test’ he did with shifty, if you do approach that scene, I’m so curious how it would go- would it make shifty happy bc it reminds them of their childhood, or start to shatter the illusion of ford bc it makes them feel like an experiment? I can never expect what ur gonna write, you handle the complexity so well! Thank you for making obsessed with that stupid maggot I love it sm

AAAAA thank you so much!!!! im so happy you're enjoying so far!!!! you're in luck, I'm actually publishing a new chapter tonight after a few final checks!

i guess we'll have to see what happens next! i actually do adore that scene from journal 3 with the "tests" he does on the kids. yeah he's checking for like, radiation sickness or whatever but it also reads to me as "weird relative trying to bond and doing his damn best"

thank you so much for your kind words again!

[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 :(

[spaceumbredoggos]

Now to present you with a journal entry from Ford during Aces and Oh’s:

I worry about K a lot. They refuse to talk to me now. Yet what sparked within them to save Mabel from Shifty today?

They’re asleep in my private study for now. I haven’t had a good chance to examine them. They’re always standoffish and brash, like they were trying to push me away. There are signs they show that show something is off with them. If only they would tell me.

They go through phases where they don’t sleep for days. I don’t even see them half the time. They always come back beat up and acting off…

Some days, all they do is sleep. And it seems that they’re really uncomfortable when they’re asleep. They shout and thrash. I try to comfort them? but they scratch me with their razor sharp claws. If only I can get them to trust me.

They keep taking their meds, but I don’t think they’re working anymore. I’m pretty sure these manic and depressive episodes are taking a toll on their mind and body. Their shifts become more erratic. I can smell alcohol on them sometimes. It worries me how they’re throwing their life away like this.

When they are lucid, they keep trying to contact their father. He has shown up several times and K wants to go home with him. I won’t let them. I know Jackson’s true intentions is to send them away to the Utah desert again. Kenz hasn’t been the same since.

I keep thinking back to the day i found them at the edge of town. They refused to go with me. They kept trying to flee from town but the natural law of weirdness magnetism kept them in. They only showed up on my porch that one morning after losing a fight to a rabid couote. They survived the brutal onslaught of rabies but I think it altered their brain permanently.

Stanley has been very vocal against Jackson from the beginning. He keeps thinking he should have picked up Kenz from their house long ago. I tell him that there was nothing that we could have done since they never reported any of the abuse.

(Kenz’s writing.)

Fuck. I need an outlet. My claws won’t stop tingling. This book is just sitting there. I might as well vent everything in here but I don’t want Stanford’s nosy ass to pry on everything. He can decipher codes really easily. But can he decipher illegible handwriting?

(Chat, just assume this is in chicken scratch writing written frantically by someone having a depressive episode. Okay? I’m abusing the fourth wall here. This isn’t in the journal entry.)

My head really fucking hurts. Where has Bill been? How was I supposed to know about the shapeshifter otherwise? I couldn’t have let Mabel die like that. I can’t let anyone here die. My wounds sting really bad. Is Dad proud of me? Will he have me back? I don’t want to stay here forever. Bill told me that if i could just find that equation and shake his statue’s hand i could be set free. I could finally go home. I don’t have a home here. But do i even have a home with my father?

It doesn’t make any sense. I was picked up in the middle of the night on my eighteenth birthday by these weird men. I was sent to live in the middle of the utah desert. I’m 20 now, so I spent two years out there. I f i could just stay human like they say, then they could have sent me home. I was doing so well within the program.

I don’t know why Stanford and Stanley want to keep me here so bad. I’m not a little kid. Dad isn’t answering my calls. I wonder what he’s up to? I keep “seeing the tv glow” as what Mabel says from tiktok. I know I’m agender, but i’m not supposed to be. I keep trying to just be a woman. When i try to shift my paws back into hands and my legs back into human legs, I collapse and shift back to this unstable form. I can’t stand my hair to be super long. What is happening to me? Why can’t i just be normal?

Bill would say to “embrace the weirdness” but is he right? Every time I tried to embrace myself, Dad would yell at me. Maybe Bill is right. I’ll go see him tonight. The unicorn hair barrier prevents me. He’s gonna want an update what happened with everything. Maybe he’ll bring me another deer antler to chew on…

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

What if Ford dies from Bill's torture? And Stan still cursed as a cat gets Dan and the rest to the house? (I love angst) btw there's another happy ending where Ford was barely clinging to life but not dead so he get rescued by the group.

Is it make the dark lord cry hours here? Why's everyone being so sad?

In the terrible scenario where Ford dies, Bill is moving into his permanent flesh puppet and yelling at Fords ghost for having the nerve to die before Bill could kill him on purpose. Fords floating around horrified that Bill has full access to the house and his research, and works with Nikola to go get help from outside before Bill figures out how to tear down the door to the basement and start the apocalypse. Stan is pushing down his horror and devastation to help Ford's ghost out, but he's barely clinging on to that thread.

The confrontation between Bill and the rest of the group is similar in that Dan decks him and he drops, but then he doesn't get back up, because Ford's dead. Instead they watch in horror as Bill pops back in a few minutes later laughing at them, and they're forced to tie him up while chocking back tears. Ford's too weak to appear to them, so Stan goes around and gets all of his ghost summoning things to get the message across.

Then its sad tears hours as everyone's confronted with Ford's ghost, Fiddleford horrified that he abandoned his friend, Carla horrified that Fiddleford prevented her from helping her friend, etc, etc, while Stan's wailing at his feet and pawing at his floating form. Just full teary eyed cat sadness yowling. You know the type.

Worse ending here is Stan doesnt get out of the house to get Dan and the others, and is either locked in the basement counting down the hours until starvation gets him while Ford's ghost watches(or Fiddleford with a buzz saw rescues him) or Bill now has a nice fluffy scarf as he goes around trying to tear down the door to get downstairs, with Fords ghost yelling and trying to do what he can with no body while Stan's numb from Bill touch. This could lead to a potential Bill Wins scenario, depending on how long it'd take him to realize he can bypass the door entirely by going through the floor, and that a corpse doesnt have to worry about surviving the fall. Then Ford lives because his ghost gets shoved back into his body and Bill fixes it, offended that Ford's weak mortal form had the gall to go and die on him without permission. Chances of Cat Man Stan are high, but Bill might also just go straight to Ford torture to force cooperation now that he knows he can shove his soul back in if he pushes the body too far. Then Stan gets to watch his bro get tortured from the side while Bill laughs at his yowling.

Happy end is Ford actually is alive, just banged his head, Bill possessing him accidentally shoved his spirit out, and everyone thought he was dead until Bill was kicked out for good and they realized he was still breathing. Then its a quick trip to the hospital while Carla and Ford work together on figuring out how to shove a spirit back into a body (just gotta zoom back in). Stan spends the entire time on Fords chest, refusing to move. They have to threaten/bribe the hospital staff to let him stay, because every time they try to pull Stan away he yowls like they're killing him.

I think this is one universe where Stan would go back to trying to communicate who he is, just so he can yell at Ford for scaring the life out of him. If Ford does end up perma dead Stan would become a depressed wreck of a cat, just lounging around Ford's house and laying in his bed, refusing to do anything but lay there. This would be a perma cat Stan universe, as he'd stop caring about trying to turn human without Ford there. Just becomes Emma-May's cat after the divorce so he can stick with Shifty (And they would, after Fiddlefords cult era led to their friends death). She can't get rid of him, even if she tries, because he just always comes back (except for when he's sneaking out to wreck Fiddlefords life as majorly as his cat body allows. He'll never forgive him for abandoning Ford after all). If at any point he did become human, the moment he learned how his curse worked he'd go back to living as a cat. Doesn't care about being Stanley after all, the last thing Ford cared about was Nikola, so that's who he is now.

Thanks for making me cry in the middle of the night. Now i'm inflicting this on you all.

[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.

[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.”

[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.