#i didn't watch berserk while i was doing them ;;

[avelera]

I feel like I don't have the spoons for this, nor the understanding of real-life PTSD enough to explore it, but I feel like it's worth examining Jayce's arc for signs of PTSD. Much has been made of the canonical mental illnesses and PTSD of characters like Jinx, and I've mentioned that I think Jayce might have generalized clinical anxiety, but I think it's worth looking at how much of his behavior might be PTSD related even before he goes to the Anomaly future.

Some possible places I'd look:

Jayce has been getting fed paranoia by Marcus and by the tension that is being deliberately ratcheted up by Silco and Jinx. Yes, he says awful, bigoted things to Viktor on the bridge, but it is worth pointing out that he's not saying this in a vacuum, there are people in proximity to him deliberately stoking his paranoia and that of the city for their own ends, literally Marcus is gaslighting him actively by telling him the Firelights are responsible and the best way to keep people safe is shut down the bridge.

The fight in the Shimmer Factory gets more wild to me every time I watch. Jayce should not be there for so many reasons but one of them is Jayce is not a fighter. I think his video game counterpart sort of obscures this, but unlike Vi who has spent her whole life fighting AND in prison for years, Jayce has never, ever wielded that hammer before. He didn't even have it until the day before! And suddenly he's up against the Shimmer-infused berserkers who are some of the toughest fighters in the whole show. He almost gets his head cut off, if not for features he built into the hammer like weightlessness and the shield, he'd be dead, and then he makes what I call the, "Jayce is Making Bad Decisions" Face (I need to make a gifset of this face btw, he makes it a couple times, also while resurrecting Viktor).

Ok I might make fun of the Jayce is Making Bad Decisions face, BUT on a serious note, it's clear the Fortiche animators are doing a superb job showing someone who has gone into "Adrenaline Mode". REAL fighters do not want adrenaline. Adrenaline fucks up your reaction times and makes you shaky and turns off your higher brain functions. I've been in a fight when fear adrenaline kicks in and you just start wildly swinging to get people away from you and that is exactly what happened when Jayce's face got scrunched up and he started shooting wildly, he just wanted to stop the threat because he's never fought before, unlike Vi. And then he kills a kid and the triumph of his first fight against an uncomplicated enemy just dies and btw, never returns except in that moment fighting more Shimmer berserkers and Renni but those are clear self defense and there's no triumph in it.

BRO gets HIT BY A ROCKET, has a pure panic response leaving living people who need his help in the chamber to save Viktor, and he doesn't go back as far as we know.

Ok so the things that me, as not an expert would be curious to note as possible PTSD responses would be:

Jayce not leaving the lab after the attack except 1) to go to the funeral (where he's attacked AGAIN) 2) to comfort Caitlyn after Mel basically tells him to, 3) to make weapons for Caitlyn's team specifically to keep a small group of people safe, not arm an entire army. Besides that, it looks like he spends all his time holed up in the lab, even after Viktor is gone, because that's his safe space and I think I read once that PTSD has a way of shrinking your world down to just the people and places you trust.

Dragging that hammer around with him in the Anomaly future. Look, Jayce is a city boy, he has no survival instincts, but it wasn't just a bad idea because it broke his leg, it was actively detrimental to his chances of survival because lugging an anvil around drained him of water and calories. Bro had a lot less chance of survival with it, but he thought he was surrounded by zombies (he wasn't, they're all dead and they're all controlled by Viktor, we learn he was never in danger, though I don't blame him for that). But that could also be a PTSD response, his actual emotional support hammer.

Clamming up and not talking to Mel about what happened because she's not in his circle of trust anymore, it's more or less shrunk down to just Viktor (once he can save him) and Cait, maybe.

Ok as usual this got longer than I intended by just... some things that are in my mind right now.

[lizzy019]

NOT MY OVULATING BRAIN DYING FOR SOME SOFT SEX AND CHUBBY READER WITH NIKTO 😩😩😩 18+

Nikto was gently groping your smooth breasts, the callouses on his hands acting as tiny, unintentional scratches that made everything seem mind-numbingly amazing. The feel of the cracks and tears of skin on his palms and fingers just served to add some tingles that made your spine tremble.

Soft kisses were pressed to your collarbone. You'd convinced him to take off his mask, and even if he was hesitant, he had done it for you. Good God was he the handsomest man.

A scar making his upper lip become contorted to show his canine and middle molar. His broken nose that was all too disfigured to heal properly, but sat so prettily on his face. The burns along the left side of his face, his pale skin becoming pink from the scarring. One of his ears, a bit cut off and malnourished, but in all honesty, you didn't care.

This was who Nikto was, and you didn't care in the least what he looked like.

His dried lips pressed sweet kisses along your neck and collarbone, making your head fall back to show your submission to his movements. A soft grunted hum left his throat as you did so, making sure he left a few faint hickies on your shoulders too.

His hands came down to cup the soft pudge gathered at your stomach, one hand fondling with the flesh and the other one grazing your love handles. While his gesture of love was meant to come off as sweet, it embarrassed you a little.

Soon, his kisses were travelling down your cleavage and down to your navel, and he pressed his forehead to the soft mound to sigh.

"We're not all perfect, мой драгоценный. (My precious) Take us, for example. Do we look perfect to you?" Nikto asked, the gruff tone mingled with his lovely accent making you swoon.

You simply shrugged, feeling a jitter of nervousness run down you when he pressed a gentle kiss to your tummy. His rough fingers came to bring loving attention to your stretch marks. Nikto called them claw marks. Why? He thought that you were durable physically, and that they appeared to him as sweet animal scars to prove further how you had changed and accommodated to everything.

So when he asked you his little question, all you could do was think it over and smile, offering him a response that he'd either appreciate or dislike.

"Well, to me, you're perfect and lovely. But to others, you mean? I guess others might not see you how I do." And that answer was what made Nikto go berserk.

He had used his strength gathered from military service to heave you up from the sofa and carry you to the bedroom. You felt so special in a way, even if you felt like a bit of a burden. But Nikto showed no signs of physical wear from your weight, so you simply smiled and let him do as he pleased with you.

It wasn't long until you two were in the bedroom, the minimal clothing you had on was now torn off as he worked his leaky tip into your labia. The warm sensation of his cock being so close to your core was agonizing, but you waited patiently like the good girl you were.

With a hard rut of his hips, he had penetrated through your pussy lips and began to thrust into your core ever so gently. His arms were holding his own weight overtop of you, his facial expression contorting in pleasure as he struggled to keep his pace controlled.

Nikto was watching how you happily moaned and writhed underneath him. It was such a pretty sight, how your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and your soft tummy had a little jiggle whenever his pelvic bone crashed against yours a bit too hard.

But he enjoyed it, and he expressed it through soft grunts, as well as a bit of Russian overcoming his English from how wonderful your pussy felt.

"Твоя вагина такая мягкая и теплая, ебать! (Your pussy is so soft and warm, fuck!)" Nikto grunted, finding the way your pussy spasmed when he hit that gooey spot of yours to be so heavenly and delicious.

It didn't take long for him to get you off, for you to squirt messily down his lower abdomen and the base of his cock. He was simply mesmerized by how your pussy convulsed around his hard length. And soon, it had him teetering off the edge of his release too.

Surely enough, his babies were being bumped into your welcoming womb, and his weight collapsed on top of yours. You didn't mind it, instead happily accepting his exhaustion and wriggling the blanket to cover his naked body.

But he didn't pull out, he let his cock simmer in your pussy until he was fully soft, but he didn't even notice it because he'd succumbed to the strength of his sleep.

In all honesty, you were tired too.

@fishsinsareacknowledged @konigswife45

[ckret2]

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

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

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

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bill blinked. "Who?"

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

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Donations?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

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

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

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

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

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

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

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

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

"English class, I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

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

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

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

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

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

A pause. "I think I need help!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They shut the door.

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

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

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

"Please."

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

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

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

####

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

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

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eh, I'm not picky."

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

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

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

"Hey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone knocked on the door.

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

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

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

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

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

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

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

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

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

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

"Good for her!"

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

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

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

"And...?"

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

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

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

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

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

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

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

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

Ford Frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I heard 'we like you'!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

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

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

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

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

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

Ford gingerly shut the window.

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

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

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

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

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

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

He stared into the dark after it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

####

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

Bill was nauseous.

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

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

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

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

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

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

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

He missed home.

####

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

[tekumaniac311]

Rider Rescue: Church Fight.

As Z, Leopardaisy, Dogbite, Drago Kitano and Berserkerine watched as the cult and their high priest dance in front of the tied up Dogday and his crew, the cultists wheeled in a large device, Z immediately recognized it.

"A Red Mist emitter.. they'll be using it on Dogdays crew." Drago sternly looked "Then there's no further time to waste." Z aimed the rifle at the emitter's control circuits. "Riders, do you have any final words before you receive happiness?!" The High Priest sang with an eerie smile. "Just one: Do we get paid?" Kickin asked. "Or better yet, can we have better performances than this?" Bobby piped in.

"Spare your petty jokes, Riders. For it is now time for joy to envelope, activate the emitter." He said to the cultist, with that, Z took aim and fired at the emitter's control panel, frying the machine completely. The high priest and the cultists were a gasp and looked to see Z appear "Hi guys. You just hanging?"

"Well how about that, our mystery pal's come" Hoppy said with a smirk. "And he didn't come alone" Z remarked, with that, Dogbite, Drago, Leopardaisy and Berserkerine jump out in front of the crowd of cultists.

"Is that--" Dogday stammered "GET THEM!!" Shouted the High Priest.

The five then take on the crowd of cultists, Berserkerine charges through each one like a freight train, punching each one repeatedly and slamming them down as if he was in a wrestling ring. Another cultist slammed an old church chair onto Berserkerine's back.

And he doesn't flinch. Berserkerine looked, growled and attacked the cultist.

Leopardaisy jumped up and kicked at each cultist and flipped to avoid a swing. "Too slow! Try to catch!" She glowed pink and turned invisible, the cultists looked around frantically before being knocked out by the invisible pink leopard, she then re materialized "You lose" She said with a smirk,

Drago flew up and right back down at the crowd of cultists who came at him, landing in the middle he began punching and kicking each one like out of a Bruce Lee movie, dodging each move like an agile samurai, one of them drew a blaster and fired at him, only for the dragon to dodge and blast him with a blue fireball.

Dogbite then tosses a sun blast at each one who came at him, then he pounced on the High Priest himself, punching him down repeatedly with aggression, a cultists comes at Dogbite with a blade only for the dog to turn and punch him directly in the junk.

"Have a seat, bud" Dogbite said to the cultist, he then turned and kept punching the High Priest to a pulp, Z meanwhile blasted at the remainders of the cult with his blasters, soon all the cultists and the high priest were incapacitated.

"Woo! Looks like we got em all, good job" Leopardaisy said with a thumbs up and a blep. Z nodded and then walked up to the still strung up Space Riders. "Hey guys, lemme get ya down." His rifle shifts into a shuriken, ready to toss it at the rope, suddenly Dogbite walked up and shoved him aside. "Nah nah nah, if there's gonna be some sibling rescuing, it's me." He said and readied a sun blast

With a single toss the sun blast burnt through each rope holding up our heroes, and each fell face flat on the ground. "Oops." Dogbite snickered, Drago was unamused and went to help each Rider up, as did Berserk, Leopard and Z.

"Hey nice to meet ya." Leopardaisy spoke helping Catnap up, Catnap nodded at her, agreeing. "Thanks for showing up to help." Bobby said as she was helped up by Berserkerine "Don't mention it, redbear." He spoke. While the two helped Picky, Kickin, Hoppy and Bubba, Drago meanwhile went and helped Crafty to her feet after untying her legs, Crafty almost froze as she gazed right at Drago. "There you go, madam, you hurt?" a slight flush was on Crafty's face but she remained firm "No...thank you, for helping." She said calmly and firmly.

Z then helped Dogday up, "Nice to see ya again, Captain." He said with humor, Dogday gave an amused shrug at the masked Rider "You to, mr 'I like looking cool'." Z just laughed at Dogday's compliment.

He then...looked straight ahead at the younger dog, who was looking at him with an expression that just read: hostility. Dogday immediately recognized it and was...well, speechless. "It's him.." He thought to himself. The two dogs just...stared at eachother for nearly a minute with their teammates looking confused and noticing the resemblance between them.

Z then popped in "Yaaay! Family reunion!"

To be concluded

Space Riders AU and sketch art belongs to @onyxonline

[matan4il]

911 ep 703 first watch reactions

Ooooh, I love the Home Alone repeated nod, where this family keeps almost forgetting their youngest kid, but don't. And how it's played for humor, until they finally actually do forget him behind, right when it gets serious. Comedic build up, leading to serious tension. I love how they did this!

"Great, more water." I'm not entirely sure what these kids' problem with a cruise family vacation is, I was an immigrants' kid, we didn't have much, so I would have gone berserk with joy to get to go on one, but at least they're being funny while they're at it. XD

"Your husband is incredible." " He sure the hell is." I love Bathena. ^u^ I love that they get each other, I love it when they get to work together, but I also love it when they just get to watch and be reminded all over again of what an amazing person they fell in love with. I think that's the ultimate life partnership, not where you're necessarily in constant life threatening situations, but where you periodically get reminded of why you're with this person, that you honest to God think is so unbelievable, and you fall a tiny bit deeper in love.

"Wait, so who's missing, Bobby and Athena, or Hen?" "Yes." I feel like this is a good summary of the show's big disaster eps. XD Also, love how Chim talking to his wife means so are Buck and Eddie, sorta. It's a part of the family vibe...

Hen breaking into her own fire station to help Bobby and Athena. Trying to bullshit her way into a helicopter only to find Buck, Eddie and Chim already on it. I love this team. <3

"We're not dropping it! If I didn't do anything wrong, YOU didn't do anything wrong FIRST." This is why they're my comfort morons. lol

Nice way of wrapping things up from the previous ep, with the whole team that questioned Hen's call, risking their lives because at the end of the day, they do trust her hunch.

lol Poor Tommy. So frustrated with the family therapy hour when they're all flying into a hurricane. XD He's so valid for this.

"And bring yourself back to me." Then big kiss with literal sparks flying around them. I'm so sappy for Bathena!

This was a really good multi-ep disaster ep, the kind that make 911 so good, because it's just the right combo of suspense, comic touches, emotional moments, family love and being there for each other no matter what, vics we're invested in, and a happy ending. It's not even remotely close to believable, but it works for the same reason super hero movies work. Because sometimes we just need to let go of our disbelief, and trust in fictional characters, whose hearts are in the right place, and who end up doing the impossible.

[fourphoenixfeathers]

Tags from @hotmothsummer

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE. I'm still very much cooking but I'll write down what I'm thinking so far.

I love these two so much. It's absolutely insane how the two bots least likely to trust anyone became partners, and while the show wouldn't upset the status quo so majorly, I really wanted to see Auto Berserk go a different way.

So Starscream is sick of Megatron's scrap, and getting abandoned on the battlefield was the last straw. Red Alert is on a hair trigger and thinks the autobots are going to take him apart for scraps. Starscream spots an opportunity!

He pulls Red Alert aside to hide him from the autobots and start his plotting and scheming. It's them two against the world now, and if they can get the negavator, no one will be able to stop them anymore. Starscream wants to finally be on top (but secretly he just wants to finally be safe) and Red Alert wants the security (even though his personality will always find something to be paranoid about). They need therapy your honor.

Starscream is in a pretty good place here! Red Alert isn't hard to manipulate, all Starscream has to do is play into his fears. It's free partner (but watch out)!

I have this vivid image in my head of Red Alert jumping at the slightest of sounds, interpreting anything and everything as a threat to him and his new partner. On one hand, it's kind of annoying to keep talking him down from a false alarm, but on the other... Starscream never had anyone by his side before who was so genuinely concerned for his safety. He's always had to look out for number one because no one else would. Skyfire was the only one who would, but even after he was found in the ice, that didn't last long. Uh oh, he's getting attached.

On Red Alert 's end, he's getting to see a completely different side of Starscream. The flaky SIC gets so much scrap for his cowardice and general gremlin behavior (not to mention how the autobots literally joke about the Megatron domestic abuse), but without the autobots or the decepticons around, Starscream is surprisingly competent. It'll definitely give him something to think about when his logic circuits aren't buzzing like bees on crack.

Then they capture the negavator. All the factions and the two defectors are in one high stakes fight. Red Alert's not doing too hot, Starscream wants to make sure he doesn't leave him for rejoin the autobots without stressing him out so much he explodes, and then Megatron chooses this moment to come in like the kool aid man.

It comes down to this: claim he was getting the weapon for Megatron... Or stick with Red Alert. The answer is obvious isn't it? Megatron will kill him if he doesn't get into his good graces immediately. But Starscream hesitates. The reason he got into this mess was that Megatron left him for dead even when he wasn't being actively traitorous. He's alive as long as he is useful, and even that isn't a guarantee. But for all his paranoia, Red never threatened Starscream's life.

Red Alert sees Starscream's hesitation, and for a moment he fears Starscream will betray him. He should have known not to trust the Decepticon notorious for his treachery. But Starscream instead calls for a tactical retreat for the defectors.

I'm a bit fuzzy on what happens next, but the gist of it is Starscream chose Red Alert over Megatron, and Red returns the favor. They are besties, do not separate. On one hand, I want Screamy to have more defector vacation bc there's no way he'd drop everything and join the autobots so easily. But at the same time, using his null ray to calm down Red Alert's overactive circuits is a temporary measure, and Red will have to get medical attention sooner or later, and when he does he will return to his own faction.

They are so star crossed. They worked so well together when they both acted as neutrals (ignoring the gaslighting. Shhhh it's my sandbox now I do what I want) but that can't last and it's 😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺. Unless Starscream gets his head out of his tailpipe. Hence, I'm grabbing him by the throat and shoving him in the redemption bin. Somehow.

[icedragonlizard]

What if dream friends had dialogue in Star Allies?

I suppose it could've been a lot of unnecessary work for HAL to do, but I still think it could be highly fun and imaginative to think about.

How cool would it be if the game's plot actually acknowledged the existence of the dream friends? The things they'd say in-game, etc...

I think it would be especially fun to think about what all the different dream friends might saying during the mage sister fights. Like, y'know, the points of the game where there's dialogue. What they all might say to the mage sisters in response to their words....

... I'm not going to go over what I think every dream friend would say in these moments, but I think I'd like to focus on ones such as Susie, Magolor, Marx, Taranza and Daroach. Why these ones in particular? Because I think they'd probably be the more entertaining ones in what they'd have to say in their dialogue during the mage battles.

How funny would it be that Marx and Magolor just troll the shit out of the mages? How funny would it be that Susie acts condescending when talking to them? How funny would it be that Taranza joke-flirts with them, he doesn't actually mean it as he's just doing it to get them riled up? How funny would it be that Daroach tells them to watch out before he steals from them? This stuff is fanfiction-worthy! Heck, this might be the biggest reason why I might attempt my adaptation of Star Allies into a fanfiction in the future, although I've got many other fics planned beforehand so it'd be a long while.

But still! There could be endless potential when thinking about this.

Let me demonstrate an example. First, let's look at the part where the game first introduces Flamberge, and she's really angry.

"HEY, YOU! Stubby little...pink thing! Yes, YOU! I have a buuuurning question for you! You're the one who was so rude to sweet Francisca, aren't you?! Don't you dare try to deny it!"

"Ohohohohohohoho! We sure put that crazy blue lady in her place! What are you gonna do about it? Throw a temper tantrum? Go so berserk that you lose control and we can easily beat you?"

Wanna guess who said that? Hahahaha... the purple text probably made it obvious. In this interpretation, it's Marx who said that. There's no way he wouldn't just totally mock them and rub it in their faces. At the very least in my interpretation of Marx, it'd be like him to do that.

And by the way, I'm one that actually headcanons Marx becoming friends with the mage sisters post-HiAD because he loves how chaotic they are, and loves that they're willing to join him in doing insane shit (especially Francisca). But during Star Allies when the mages were the enemy? I bet he totally mocked the shit out of them!

Magolor, too. Here's a good example of Magolor having dialogue against one of the mages:

"Bonjam. I am Zan Partizanne, the eldest of the three generals of magic."

"Woah... Zan what? I didn't hear that thoroughly! I think I'll call you Zan Parmesan Cheese, though!"

".... I absolutely HATE that you ended up getting my name more right than a lot of other fools have."

It'd be hilarious to see a lot of dream friends trying to say her name. All the different ways they could say it wrong.

Here's a Taranza example:

"This must be the fiery flames of fate at work! Ooooh yeaaaah! My flames and I are fully stoked now!"

"Golly, you're really hot, good ma'am!" with a trollish look on his face.

"... Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?"

"Hahahahahaha! Am I making you overheat too much, fool?"

I think Taranza deserves to be depicted as silly sometimes.

A Daroach example:

"We wish to assemble the dark Jamba Heart pieces that were scattered across the universe."

"Woah... you want them all? That's a big bummer! What if I want to steal some of them? Maybe I'll still do it out of spite, teehee!"

I hate the limited amount of colors allowed for tumblr posts. To make it clear, for this example, the blue text is Francisca while the red text is Daroach. While, of course, Flamberge was the red text in the examples with Marx and Taranza, while Magolor was the blue text in the example with Zan.

And now, let me demonstrate a couple examples with Susie. I think she'd delightfully fire off on them like the feisty cheeky woman she is.

"I shall now turn this pink ball of nice into a frozen block of ice!"

"No you won't. This 'pink ball of nice' is a force of pure destruction, and you're going to defrost by daring to harm the universe with all of this insolent nonsense. You must be destroyed!"

"... Very well. But I won't go down without a fight, so you best watch out that you all might become ice sculptures this time. I can more than make sure of it!"

"We will more than make sure to obliterate you, just like the rest of your barbaric cult! Let's put her in her place, Pinky!"

Susie example with Zan:

"I did not expect you to survive your visit to Jambastion."

"You thought that would've gotten us? Pfft! We've all been through worse than that. You're going to have to try harder than that if you really want to eliminate us for good."

"Really, you survived worse? Well, that doesn't matter, because your luck has run out."

"No. Your luck has run out. We're going to exterminate all of you like the savages you are!"

This works out well with my interpretation that Susie's Japanese SA pause description containing the words "exterminate the savages!" is referring to the Jambastion cult when they were still the enemy. I headcanon that she's slowly in the process of unpacking baggage, and "savages" is just a thing she calls people she views as enemies.

And uh... to be honest, the cult kind of deserved to be called words like that during Star Allies when they were threatening everything.

I've done a lot of examples of a few dream friends having dialogue during the mage battles. But what about when confronting Hyness?

I think all the dream friends would be horrified at the moments that Hyness knocks Zan out of the way, weaponize all three mage sisters' bodies in his second phase of the fight, and then sacrificing them and himself to Void Termina. It would make them just flabbergasted.

Although I bet Marx would probably laugh at how unhinged he is.

"It seems... we do not have enough energy... to revive our Dark Lord... Must we... allow ourselves... to fall... into oblivion?"

"Yes, you should do that!"

"No."

"Yes."

"NO!"

"YES!"

"No no no no no!"

"Yes yes yes yes yes!"

"*goes on his giant unhinged rant*"

"*laughs hysterically* Look at you go off! It's hilarious!"

Marx is just... lmao.

Sorry that I don't have examples with every dream friend having dialogue in this post. But you get the general idea! Perhaps if you have ideas as to what the other dream friends could say in these moments, feel free to mention them in the notes!

Although I'll leave you here with a King Dedede example, just cuz:

"For what you've done, I'll scorch you to such a degree that... that... even tasty, toasty marshmallows will seem like ice cubes compared to you!"

"You ain't gonna be scorchin' any of us, ya hot fiery slimeball! We'll put you in your place like we did to the blue look-a-like of ya!"

Hahaha... ha... I interpret southern accent Dedede. Sue me.

Thanks for reading the post if you did! Let me know about more ideas of dream friend dialogue you have in the notes. I'd be curious what else you think in this broad, interesting concept.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for breaking the (pointless) number one rule?

Hello everyone! My name is [redacted]- wait, it won't let me type my name?! Aw cheese curds, why do I hafta keep myself anonymous? It's not like I have anything to hide!

But anyhoo, a while back I (M, my age doesn't matter) joined a secret kid-run society, mostly because it looked like fun. The members, known as agents, use gadgets to turn weird stuff (like floating cabbages or giant tomatoes) back to normal. I was assigned to work with this super nervous kid (11-12F) who I call Scribbles 'cause she won't stop writing in her notebook no matter how many times I tell her it wastes time.

Naturally, I worked my way up to become the best agent in the precinct. I was able to solve any problem a gazillion times faster than any other agent, especially Scribbles (she's slow). I won so many awards, they gave me an award for winning the most awards! Life was great, but it was also... boring. Solving odd cases wasn't fun anymore, but creating them, on the other hand...

That's when I got the idea. I started with minor stuff, like teleporting food and giving myself colorful noses, both of which Scribbles, as expected, went berserk over. I didn't let her get me down, though - I tried out more and more odd things, to the point where it spread to my personality. Everyone definitely thought I was weird, but hey, what're they gonna do about me eating with my feet or playing a drumset in the shower?

Then I decided it shouldn't stop at just me. What's a little weird thing here and there going to do to anyone? I figured that the oddness is what spiced up life; restoring everything to normalcy every single time is about as exciting as watching a jackalope eat grass. So, on the next assignment me and Scribbles were sent on, I led everyone down the wrong path; since I was the best agent (the GOAT, if you will), they all believed me. The problem was never solved, but in doing that, my boss (???F) said that I broke the number one rule ("do no odd") and she fired me! Scribbles was devastated; I simply handed in my badge and walked away.

I think my boss made too big of a deal out of all that: as I said, what's a little oddness here and there going to do to anybody?

Edit: So I decided to sneak back to my old precinct to show the agents what oddness can really be like. I released a tornado of my favorite food all over the main lobby, and everyone - my boss, the head scientist (11M if you want to know), even Scribbles - was furious. I don't think I'll be coming back.

Edit 2: Never mind about that last part, I'm definitely coming back. That precinct hasn't heard the last of me! Soon, [redacted] will be no more...

Sweet poutine, they cut that out, too?! Those little sneaks...

[fantasiawandering]

I've been struggling a bit lately and could use some advice from the hivemind. It deals with a lot of the emotional baggage I've been trying to carry lately, so I'm putting it under a cut if you're not in the headspace for that sort of thing right now.

So the relevant backstory: Dad was in love with Mum since high school, and when she died, he went to pieces. My sister, who'd been living at home, helping take care of Mum through the cancer, basically put her grief on hold to keep Dad going through the next six months. Then, on the way home from Mum's memorial six months after her death, he told my sister he was seeing someone. He met her at work when he returned from bereavement leave. Now, I do understand this is a man who never learned how to handle his own emotions. He'd always had my grandmother, then my mother, to manage them for him. But in the next year, he did pretty much everything he could to drive both of his children away for a woman who bailed on him the moment the going got tough. Without getting into too much detail, my sister checked into an institution a while back because she was having some pretty dark thoughts about her own life, and her triggers were feeling like a burden to the family. Mum assured her she wasn't, and that she'd always have a home as long as she needed it. But as soon as that woman moved in and Dad didn't need my sister anymore, he started emotionally abusing and berating my sister, telling her what a burden she was every day until she had no choice but to leave. This was in the middle of the lockdowns. My sister landed with one of the greatest people in the world, and they're living in poverty but relatively happy. Because of this, Dad has convinced himself that not only did he do nothing wrong, he was actually a great Dad, making sure his disabled child developed independence.

But after multiple infections thanks to the woman he was living with (who believed that COVID was "just the sniffles" and vaccines were poison, and as long as they drank colloidal silver they'd be fine), Dad now believes he's developing dementia. His doctor thinks it's actually "pseudodementia," which apparently is mental health related. But Dad watched his mother lost to Alzheimer's and nothing scares him more. And the second colloidal silver and celery juice didn't cure him, the woman he'd moved into the house bounced.

Now Dad's scared. And he's been pressuring us to move in with him to take care of him. My sister will never trust him or put herself in that position again, and I'm of the same mind. He used to do similar to me when I lived there. Meanwhile, I'm still sick with a mystery disease that has no cure yet. I've got GP who actually believes in Long COVID, and a series of specialists I can get to in under 20 minutes. They're basically hacking away at the hydra heads of my symptoms until modern medicine figures out where the heart is. I'm still very much disabled. If I get ANY infection, my immune system goes berserk and starts doing the equivalent of firing a bazooka into a crowd in hopes of hitting whatever is off. I'm just coming off of about 2 months of throwing up at least once a day from the havoc it's wreaked on my digestive system. I can barely take care of myself, let alone another person, and if I moved three hours away to a small town with no public transit, at a time when there's a provincial crisis and NOBODY can find a new GP, not only would I lose my health network, but I'd be essentially housebound in a way I'm not in the city. I also know that I physically cannot handle a three-hour commute either way on days when I have to go in to work, so moving in would involve giving up the career I've been working toward for twenty years.

For all of these reasons, I said no. His siblings are coming at me with varying degrees of "it's your filial duty." None of them really understand just how sick I actually am, but I also don't think that would change things. And I feel guilty. Despite knowing that moving into a place with no infection control could make me bedbound or worse, and that I can't afford to be without a GP or a medical team, I feel like I've failed somehow. I love my Dad. But I can't take care of him and keep myself healthy at the same time. I've been doing what I can from here since he first started feeling like he was losing it. Every other day, I call him and read him a chapter of Sherlock Holmes, and he's told the rest of the family how much he enjoys it. And sometimes it's exhausting to read for that long, but I do it because he needs me and it's something I CAN do. I've also offered to help with his banking and things, but he's turned me down whenever I offer.

Now, since I said no, Dad has said that he wants to sell his house and move into a care community, and that what's holding him back is knowing if he did, there'd be nothing left for me and my sister when he's gone. And I don't think that's an attempt at manipulation, I genuinely believe he's concerned, because he knows how much we both struggle currently. But honestly, neither one of us was counting on getting anything anyway, and as much as we're still deeply hurt by what he did (he also threw my mother's remains away and then informed us in an add-on to an email forward, which broke me in a way I've never been broken before, and when my sister called him out on it, HE got mad and said "it was none of your business, this was between a husband and his wife."), we still want him safe and not alone and scared. We've both told him as much, and that neither of us are the kind of people who'd be sitting around going "raaah, how dare he spend our inheritance! Who does he think he is taking care of himself?"

But it's not an easy thing to deal with, especially given that I'm the one he's leaning on hardest -- I think even he realized he didn't just burn the bridge with my sister, he nuked it from orbit. I've been crying on and off for the last three days. And I don't know how to get myself out of it. Anyway, if you've made it this far, thank you. And yeah, that's what I'm dealing with as I try to drag myself out of this funk. So here's where the advice part comes in. I've been reflecting on a lot of things, and one of the conclusions I've come to is I need something to DO. I fill my days when I'm not working with movies and playing video games with my sister, but I think I need a physical hobby. Something to do with my hands. Something that lets me create things.

I've had to put a lot of what I used to do on hold. My brain still hasn't healed enough to write reliably. I started knitting, but COVID did something to my eyes, and when I look at the knitting for more than a minute or two, the rest of the world goes blurry and I can't see clearly again for another thirty minutes. I have similar problems with the beadwork I used to do. Anything that involves leaving the house is iffy due to my health, so it's got to be something I can do from home. So. Any ideas? What brings you joy?

[violet-moonstone]

THW Rewrite

More headcannons because I have not been able to stop thinking about this franchise for the past 13 years, and I have over a decade's worth of opinions.

I've already posted some of these ideas but ehh it's fine.

While I enjoyed watching it for the first time, THW was disappointing to me for a variety of reasons. (The music was probably the best out the franchise though, I'll say that) Grimmel didn't reach his full villain potential since the writers used Ruffnut's lack of judgment as his key to success instead of him being a capable strategist. (Also they did my girl so dirty. She may be a dumbass, but she's not an idiot!) I don't like that the dragons left after just 6 years. I don't like that all the riders except for Hiccup and Astrid are just played for laughs instead of shining like they do in RTTE. I don't like whatever the hell Snotlout's obsession with Valka was, and I didn't like Toothless' "romance" with the Light Fury. I hate that even dragons can't escape half-developed romance and a nuclear family as the ultimate character accomplishment.

So here are my edits (looking back, there's quite a bit going on, so it may need to be split into 2 movies or a short TV series)

The time jump happens between movies 2 and 3. (I want a full movie with bearded Hiccup and "Homecoming" does NOT count) 10-15 years have passed, so the riders are about 30-35. Zephyr and Nuffink are either little kids or preteens and are getting to an age where they're starting to train dragons.

Astrid is more rough around the edges like she was in HTTYD 1 and Rob/Dob/RTTE, not just Hiccup's supportive gf/wife. Instead of making her softer, motherhood has made her fiercer because she has more people to protect. Hiccup on the other hand is a doting father and can't say no to the kids if they give him puppy dog eyes: heart melted every time.

Toothless finds his original flock(?)/herd?/murder?/unkindness?/parliament? of Night Furies instead of just one "soulmate". Each can have their own personalities and roles in the group while Toothless is the baby. I think it would be interesting if, like Hiccup, Toothless was quite small compared to his peers - potentially explaining why he was on his own and got separated from the group before meeting Hiccup.

Dagur and Heather are brought into a council meeting as Berserker allies. Hiccup greets them in a way that clarifies things for audience members who haven't watched the show. I suppose Mala would also be in it too. I don't dislike Mala but I hate her and Dagur's relationship. More development needed there.

Gustav should be there too, still very much trying to prove himself as a dragon rider and occasionally messing things up.

In terms of the main plot and villains, I'm not too picky, although I've said before that I'm tired of dragon mind-control being the main villain tool. I'm fine with it if Drago comes back as the villain, but if not, the villain should just be dragon hunters or rival dragon riders who use their dragons for conquering/raiding other settlements.

It can hit pretty much hit the same story beats as before but with better character dynamics.

Make Ruff and Tuff more instrumental to mischief and redirection in a way that helps the plot.

Give Fishlegs more credit for his discoveries and record-keeping about dragons.

Snotlout and Eret are together (or implied to be together if that's the best we can get). Snotlout is also no longer Hiccup's rival - he should be his second in command. They can disagree from time to time, but ultimately, his loyalty is not in question.

Fishlegs and Ruffnut have kids who cause chaos with Zephyr and Nuffink.

It would be cool to include a couple characters from other parts of the world with dragon mythology. I understand that Vikings are white but if we have goddamn flying dragons, there's no reason there can't be visitors from other cultures (who aren't villains).

Ending option 1: The movie can end with the dragons going away, but now they've been with the Berkians for over a decade and it just feels more impactful.

The "there were dragons when I was a boy" line can either be Hiccup talking to his grandson after an even longer time jump, or Nuffink talking to his own kids about Hiccup's adventures.

Ending 2: the Berkians go to The Hidden World with the dragons. Hiccup writes a memoir to leave behind. We hear him reading from it at the beginning and assume that means dragons are going to leave, but it's actually a diversion to make people think dragons are gone so no one tries to look for them.

Ending 3: We accept that HTYYD takes place in a different world so we don't have to explain why dragons don't live among us anymore. The movie ends with Hiccup vowing to make the archipelago safe for all dragons and Nuffink and Zephyr take up the mantle of discovering new dragons. The dragons stay and they all live happily ever after, the end :)

I'm tempted to actually write this as a fanfiction but I already got a lot of writing projects atm. We shall see.

edit: I'm writing it

[ihatesocialmedia45]

My Debut Onto The Tumblr Homelander Fanfic Scene

I see a lot of other Homelander writers post their fics on here, and I think I will start, too! Here is Chapter One of my fic: (also - you should listen to Guts' Theme from Berserk while you read!)

Sunshine, Happiness and Rainbows

Vought's New Year's Countdown was in full swing; VNN was filming live, and the camera panned outside, to show the cheering crowd huddled outside the Tower. Homelander watched from the window, the flash of cameras lighting up his face, wearing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He would be hosting this event, he thought with an internal sigh. The people outside might have been genuinely celebrating - but to him,  to the rest of the Seven, it was just another soulless bid for attention. They hadn't even officially been asked to host; The Tonight Show had fought them tooth and nail for the time slot - but Stan would not be cowed, and Vought had won, once again.

All this, just to celebrate another pointless year... 

"Over here, Homelander!" a cameraman urged, waving wildly. Homelander flashed him a dazzling smile; the shutters clicked faster.

Deep was entertaining a gaggle of fans outside, taking pictures, while Maeve was nursing an old fashioned inside, leaning on the meeting room table. Noir, hidden the back, was wearing a neon sign that flashed colors and messages across the screen: 20 minutes till next year!  Sage, the sourpuss, had managed to find a way out of the affair entirely, and was probably scraping her brains out and eating fast food... or whatever it was she did during those moments of idiocy she quite literally carved out for herself. Homelander felt his lip curl in disgust. The Seven was in shambles, and Stan had saw fit to drag them on TV and make them dance, anyway. 

Starlight and Firecracker seemed to be making the best of it, at least, talking to the camera about their resolutions. "Well... I hope to beat my record for saves this year! 350," Starlight said, puffing her chest out slightly. Firecracker gave her a teasing look. "Oh, what a coincidence! I also hope to beat Starlight's record of 350 saves this year," she joked, giving Starlight a playful push. 

As Stan gave his annual speech - his State of the Union, Homelander scoffed, suppressing an eye roll - everyone watched as the camera panned to Noir and his sign: 10 minutes till next year!  Homelander watched the sign flash, Stan's voice like static in his ears. He was already thinking of what he'd do tomorrow; he'd go down to the 30th floor, maybe terrorize Ashley a bit (holidays made him angry), do his itinerary... maybe fly across the globe, sit at Mount Everest... He'd built something of a settlement on the summit, where he could sip his milk and watch the sun rise at the highest elevation in the world. Of course, he could have flown higher, but he'd recently decorated the place with a very deep leather recliner, complete with a heated cushion. Every king needed his throne, after all. Stan fixed him in his steely gaze, snapping him from his reverie. He smiled.

"Now that I've said my piece, I'd like to turn the mic over to Vought's own... Homelander," Stan said smoothly, making way for him. Homelander stepped to the mic, that same static from before in his ears, choking out the festivities and leaving him in a silent film of a scene.

Just move your mouth, John. Tell them what they want to hear.

He felt the words come out, heard the crowd's answering laughter at his jokes, their cheers... but nothing registered in his own ears. He watched the crowd give their silent shouts, mouths set in open grins - and he answered with yet another one of his own, clenched fist throbbing under the podium. His face was starting to ache.

Standing there, at the podium, ushering in a new year he couldn't care less about, but being too influential to miss the show, Homelander straightened his spine, even as he felt his face twitch when he saw a couple outside, wrapping each other into a passionate embrace. He kept his eyes on them, raking over the way they moved - a tender brush of hair, a kiss on the forehead. His eyes felt hot - the urge to laser. He stuffed it down, willed himself to smile.

Finally, though, someone announced that the time had come; there were only 10 seconds until the ball dropped. The city held its breath as Homelander raised his hands, counting down, the words falling on deaf ears, sweeping his gaze around once again.

Five!

Maeve, looking depressed as she stood apart from the show.

Four!

Sage, in her dark little den, lobotomy wand in hand, as the masses celebrated outside.

Three!

Deep hugging a fan, bristling as their hands brushed his gills.

Two!

Noir, forever mute and unable to join in on the countdown.

One!

And Homelander, overseer of the entire sordid affair, fists tied in a white knuckled knot under the podium.

"Happy New Year!" everybody cheered, and the crowd outside went wild. The air, once so charged with anticipation, seemed to let out a breath, the smattering of glitter and confetti shimmering in the night sky as New York celebrated. The Seven looked on, their rehearsed smiles growing wan.

Oh, God... Homelander groused, looking around; everyone had begun to embrace, swaying gently as they kissed, hundreds of thousands of hands that held their partners close, the breaths of a million contended sighs reaching his ears and turning his stomach.

He'd seen enough; his duty fulfilled, he stepped stiffly from the podium, shouldering his way past the throngs of people, his step determined. Maybe he'd be able to make it to Everest in an hour if he left now. Less, if he sped. 

In his haste to leave, he heard snatches of conversations ("Is that Homelander?!") that he waved off, his façade waning alongside his patience. He couldn't take a picture. Not today.

He'd finally broken free of the crowd, and was preparing to fly off - when a new voice sounded, a few dozen feet behind him, the melody low and soft in his ears. He stopped himself, lowering his arms. 

"Did you see him, though? He looked so..." they let their words trail off. The friend snorted, and Homelander felt a surge of irritation flash through him.

"What - sexy?" Homelander rolled his eyes but pressed on now, looking for the duo, only to find a hoard of faces obscuring his view.

"No," the reader said, a hint of disgust at her friend's callousness in her voice. "Lonely."

Lonely. 

The word bounced around in his skull, and for a moment, Homelander was incandescent with rage. Who did this... girl... think she was, to act as if she knew him? To lay his inner turmoil out so plainly, as if it was something she could understand. But as the word sunk into his mind - lonely, lonely, lonely... he felt his anger fade, in the wake of its truth.

Lonely. 

He imagined the New Year's celebration he'd planned for himself, sipping steamed milk on Mount Everest, with the heated cushion serving as the only other source of warmth for miles. But the speaker's pity grated on him; he grit his teeth at the feeling.

Was it pity, though? No... that wasn't quite the word. They'd sounded... concerned when they said it. Concerned, for him.  He found himself leaning in, waiting to hear more.

"Yeah, but he's Homelander. He probably has an afterparty to get to," someone else responded. "I doubt he has nobody to kiss on New Years."

"I'd kiss him..." the first voice mumbled furtively. Homelander raised a brow, craning his neck to find the person behind the statement. Their friend scoffed.

"Yeah, I bet! 'Oh, Mr. Homelander, you're dreamier than the posters give you credit for!" 

"Shut up!" 

So, this person was a fan? He stepped closer, his dark mood lightening somewhat. And the way they'd spoken about him... it wasn't in the same dismissive tone their friend had. Gods got lonely, too - a sentiment this fan's insipid friend couldn't seem to grasp. But they did.

Lulled by their dulcet voice, Homelander's legs carried him to her, lingering occasionally so as to make their eventual meeting seem organic. He ghosted behind them, hidden by the trees, the glint of his eyes the only proof of his presence, watching as the girl - wearing a Homelander shirt, he noticed with a wry little smile - walked her friend to her car, then set off, to walk home themselves.

Walk?  Homelander quirked a brow, cocking his head. That wouldn't do at all. Silently cutting through the air, he brought himself a few yards out, where the girl would eventually cross his path, and put on a contemplative face. Barely hiding his smile at his ingenuity, he waited for them, hand tucked into a fist under his chin - the Thinker, waiting for her to bring him to life.

Eventually, she reached him, headphones in her ears, jumping nearly a foot in the air when she realized who she'd discovered. Eyes like saucers, they stuttered out their greetings, hands shaking when they raised them to remove the buds.

"Homelander?!" she started. He smiled, genuinely for the first time that night; beneath the sounds of the city, and the celebration at Vought, he could hear the hummingbird patter of her heart as she took him in. 

"The one and only," he greeted them, rising to his feet. He pointed to their shirt, a teasing smile tucked away at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't tell me you've been following me," he joked, smile widening when their jaw dropped, hastily making to turn the shirt backwards.

"This isn't - no! Well..." shirt turned backward, they brought their shy gaze to his, cheeks turning rosy from the cold - and a hint of embarrassment.

Homelander extended a hand to them, eyes kind despite himself. It wasn't his way, to offer favors to fans - mudpeople, his mind spat before he banished the thought... but in this case, maybe he could make an exception. New Year, new Homelander.

He'd looked so... lonely, her words echoed in his mind. He felt his smile falter, but quickly brought it back to life.

"Let me take you home. It's too cold to walk," he said, the thin veneer of bravado melting slightly when she took his hand.

Warmth. Pure, unadulterated warmth. The shock of it, radiating from their hand, had him stuffing down a gasp, the softness of their palm seeping through his glove. She wrapped an arm around his waist, the warmth bleeding into him there, too, and when she looked up at him, he saw the full moon, reflected in her wide eyes.

I'd kiss him. I'd kiss him...

Then kiss me.

The thought shocked him, but try as he might, he couldn't will it away. It floated to the forefront of his brain, soft and insistent all at once.

Do it. Kiss me. Please.

The fan - the woman - murmured her address into the crook of his neck, her breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, and he held her to his chest as he breezed through the night sky, the gentle breeze wafting her hair. Homelander caught a whiff of her conditioner - vanilla, bergamot - and inhaled as quietly as he could. They seemed content to let him carry them, head relaxed on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The thought that that wasn't all they could hear gnawed at him, but he shook it off and kept his eyes forward, focused on how right their weight felt against him.

Finally, he reached their apartment, setting them on their feet, and giving them a strained little smile. They stood at the doorway, lingering, and for a brief, wild moment, he imagined them, inviting him in, sharing hot cocoa, hands entwined as they watched television. Through the window he could see she used warm lightbulbs for her lamps, nothing like Vought's clinically bright ones. The image burned him with its sweetness, and he felt the strange urge, again, to lash out. How dare she make him envision a vignette that could never possibly happen? Even as he fought from leaning into her, his rage flared. He hated her. He hated the emptiness she'd left in his arms, when she'd stepped out of them.

"Well... I'm sure you're very busy," they said, opening their door.

I'm not, Homelander thought, burning to follow her in. She turned to face him, a glimmer in her eye; Homelander held his breath and hoped against all reason.

"Thank you, for taking me home. You were right - it was chilly tonight!" They shared a small laugh, the ache in his chest throbbing.

"Goodnight, Homelander. Happy New Year," she murmured, closing the door behind her. He made to leave, only to retake his position outside the door for a moment, his breath floating above him in frigid puffs as he stared. The reader's farewell, saccharine as it was, left him with a sense of uneasiness he couldn't shake. He nearly pressed a hand to the door, but held firm. It wasn't right. It wasn't right.

John,  his heart wept, something inside him quaking as though to come apart. Call me John.

[flummoxx]

Saïx’s final fight in the kh2 manga - a quick character analysis

(spoilers for kh2, 358/2 days, and kh3)

[ I wrote this 4-ish months ago but my writing has improved a lot within that time so please ignore any spelling errors or grammar mistakes ]

Setting The Stage: As Sora and his friends make their way through the Castle That Never Was, he comes across Saïx and Luxord, both prepared to fight them. Before Sora can prepare for battle, Luxord traps his friends (Donald, Goofy, Riku, and Kairi) each in their own cards.

At first, the battle precedes how you would expect. Luxord challenges Sora to a card game in order to bring his friends back: Sora is reasonably upset at him and determined to win the fight, while Luxord may or may not be cheating. Saïx stands to the side watching this unfold.

Saïx Takes Over: In the middle of Luxord and Sora’s battle, Saïx breaks all of the cards in half, right in front of Sora’s eyes. When Luxord protests, Saïx threatens him with the same fate and he backs down.

As Sora stands there frozen in shock, Saïx takes this chance to get in the first couple of hits; knocking Sora to the ground. As Sora gets up, tears roll down his face, believing that all of his friends have died. When Sora finally gets the chance to hit him, he knocks Saïx back pretty far. This causes Luxord to call out his name and Saïx replies with, “I don't need your help.” As he enters his berserk state, the manga shows us a flashback to 358/2 days during the Roxas and Saïx battle.

With the usage of this particular flashback, it's clear that Saïx views Sora as Roxas, explaining his cruel actions here. By fighting Sora he's able to get payback for their battle in days; he's able to finally destroy Roxas, and to make him pay for everything Saïx believes him responsible for. Saïx prevented Luxord from helping him because this battle is something Saïx wants all to himself. He won't tolerate any interference. He’s waited long enough.

As Sora finds himself on the ground again, Saïx asks him some Important questions. He begins with, “You're still standing..? Why do you fight?” he then adds, “Your friends are gone. You have nothing left to protect.” Lastly, Saïx questions, “What point is there in fighting alone?”

I find all of these questions crucial to understanding Saïx’s actions in this fight.

Saïx thought that by making Sora believe all of his friends were dead, he would lose all motivation to keep going. He would lose his purpose. Sound familiar?

Fast forwarding to kh3, Saïx admits to losing all sense of purpose when Axel made friends with Xion and Roxas; leaving him and Subject X in the dust. Feeling that if Axel didn't need him anymore he no longer held any meaning. However, I don't think that was the only reason as to why he lost his purpose. Going back to kh2, Axel died as a sacrifice to protect Sora, leaving Saïx alone in the organization. During this time, most Nobodies were not aware they would come back recompleted after they faded away, so Saïx had no idea that Axel would return. I believe Axel’s death was the final push for Saïx to completely lose his purpose and revolve all his actions going forward around revenge and jealousy. When Sora continued to fight despite the loss of his friends, Saïx became confused as to why he would want to go on when he had nothing left to protect. 

Sora’s Victory: Sora tells Saïx that he still fights; that he continues to press on, because he knows that his heart is connected to his friends, even if they're not physically alongside him. Saïx doesn't understand this himself until much later in the series. (Mentioned in his character files, “If I could just connect to others’ hearts, that would be enough.”) With a final blow filled with determination, Sora finally defeats Saïx.

As Saïx begins to disappear, he looks to kingdom hearts above him and wonders where his heart is. He fades away alone with no one to support his fall. (If you're worried about Sora's friends, they're doing just fine. Luxord had kept the real cards that held Sora's friends in his pocket. The ones Saïx destroyed weren't the real thing. I'm assuming Saïx knew this but It made no difference as long as Sora believed they were dead. Jiminy Cricket was able to release them from the cards safely while Sora fought Saïx.)

[13eyond13]

Hii! I don't know if you were asked this before, but I'm curious whether you prefer the manga or anime ending of death note and why? Also, your berserk meta posts are always such a delight to read!

Hi hi! It's admittedly been a long while since I've either read or watched the series at this point, so I took some time going back over my asks to see if I could find one where I'd talked about this before. Didn't come across one, but I've definitely contemplated this before, so I'll just do my best to remember what I thought.

So I like both of them in different ways, basically. But if I had to choose one over the other I'd choose the manga ending as the one that I prefer.

Here is a quick rundown of what I think are the biggest strengths and weaknesses of the anime ending:

The best things about the anime ending to me:

-Portrays the horrific awkwardness and tension in the warehouse between everybody leading up to and including Light's confession extremely well. I get so on the edge of my seat and anxious during the buildup to his big breakdown every time!

-Excellent voice acting and iconic laughter during Light's big dramatic Kira confession scene. Who DOESN'T remember that moment, it's definitely one of the anime's best

-Takes a slightly more gentle and merciful and quiet and melancholy approach to Light's death scene with the sorrowful music and the pretty sunset behind him, and takes the time to do things like flashback to his pre notebook innocent self, which is actually the only scene in the series that always makes me cry. Lets Light have a certain dignity and sadness to his death by allowing him to escape off by himself from the others and look as though he's drifting off slowly to sleep. For audience members who still empathize with Light on some level or see the sad side of how he was corrupted by the notebook this can be a choice that they prefer

-Gets so ridiculous and campy at certain points with things like Mikami stabbing himself to death with a pen and then exploding like a bag of blood that I can't help but laugh through the pain a bit

-Makes some nice aesthetic choices like having Light die symbolically on a staircase (which seems like a nod to the fact that he's going to Mu / an in-between or "nowhere" sort of place after he dies, or that he was stopped halfway up in his journey before he could truly attain the "godhood" he desired, and also seems like a bit of a parallel to the rain scene of him sitting on the staircase with L – also gives a little visual flashback nod to L during Light's final moments).

The worst things about the anime ending to me:

-Cuts a lot of important moments and stuff out of the conversations between Light and Near that really enhanced the overall meaning of the story and added to making Near a much more interesting and sympathetic character to me in the manga (particularly stuff like Near talking about what they have in common, and about letting other people have agency and freedom of choice, something that Light was uh not super great at)

-Did Mikami pretty dirty and cut most of his awkward interactions with Light in the warehouse (I feel like he doesn't even get to yell "you're not God!!" at Light in the anime, does he? I'm kinda forgetting now)

-Makes the SPK and the Task Force look a bit dumb and useless in how they're just saying stuff like "there's nothing we can do, he will be dead in a few minutes" while Mikami's bleeding out on the floor and just letting Light escape and run away from them all... also kinda makes it look like Light was SO wounded by the gunshots that he would've died soon anyway. Which takes away some of the dramatic impact that comes from Ryuk writing his name in the notebook!

-In the anime Ryuk seems almost to be writing Light's name in the notebook as a mercy killing, or like he's trying to put him out of his wounded misery, which I find detracts a bit from the whole idea in the manga that Light is forced to experience the same cold and cruel fate of somebody deliberately taking his remaining years of life from him with a death note against his will... something that he remorselessly inflicted upon so many others previously himself. The two of them also don't have any discussions before Light's death in the anime like they do in the manga, which were some pretty interesting and chilling parts of the ending to me (especially Ryuk saying stuff like "you're no longer entertaining me, so you should die right now" to him)

-There is no flashback in the anime to Light and Ryuk talking about EVERYBODY going to Mu after they die no matter how they behaved on earth, which was kinda hugely important as part of the point of the story to me (because I think it forces the audience to draw their own conclusions about who they think was truly good/bad or right/wrong in this story without pigeonholing any of them into one category or another, or by sending anybody to rewarding or punishing afterlifes... I also like that it doesn't treat the notebook users as any special category of person)

-As brutal as the manga ending is in how humiliated and frightened and alone Light is while he dies, I also think there's a certain poetic justice to the horror and embarrassment he experiences during that time. He was constantly taking other people's lives and treating them like pawns in his games, backstabbing and deceiving and discarding them once they were no longer useful to him, and even cruelly gloating over watching them die. I don't particularly enjoy watching him suffer except for how it is a bit narratively satisfying, in a tables-turning "you live by the sword you die by the sword" sort of way

-In general the anime kind of gave me the vibe that it thought Light losing in the warehouse was more about L's team finally winning against Light and getting revenge on him for L's death than about the deeper and more interesting philisophical/ethical questions and themes at play, and about all the entire cast of characters' journeys as a whole

--

Overall I'd say if you want a more narratively satisfying and logical ending with more food for thought and cruel irony and deeper character interactions and existential dread and poetic justice going on then the manga is superior in basically all of these ways

HOWEVER I do still also love the final episode of the anime, I think it's one of the best and most memorable episodes of the entire show, and if you decide to turn off your nitpicking brain a bit and simply enjoy the emotions that it conjures there are some very good dramatic/aesthetic/symbolic choices that it makes

[megu-meow]

Whose fault is that?! - Gojo Satoru

Inspired by this post from @vagabond-umlaut. Thank you for allowing me to use your post as inspiration!

gojo x fem. reader

Arguing with Gojo is terrible. Your arguments last for days, because he can never take them seriously and makes you laugh, making you forget about why you were mad at him in the first place only to remind you a few days later by doing the same stupid shit.

The only instance that he took one of your fights seriously was when Geto started going berserk and Satoru didn't know how to deal with the situation at hand. He started drifting away from you unintentionally, slowly pushing you away. You confronted him about it after a while, asking him to change his behaviour, otherwise you would have no choice but to break up with him. He observed silently as tears were rolling down your cheeks, realising how much trouble he was in, how much you were hurting from his idiocy. That day, you saw a side of him you never knew existed, his cerulean eyes were glossing with tears, begging you to give him another chance to prove you how important you were for him, how much he loved and cherished you. He was more serious than ever, he never showed that level of earnestness in his entire life, not for the elders of his clan, not for the jujutsu higher-ups. You learned that day that he was right: there was no use in taking fights and arguments too seriously, at the end of the day you were partners for life and as long as your relationship was alright no issues mattered enough to be sour about them.

But this one's a big one.

"Satoru, I understand that you have to work a lot. I understand, when you don't come home for days, because you have paperwork to do. I asked you once to fucking show up, to have dinner with my parents. But no, you had to go watch Boss Baby 2 with Yuji Itadori for the 5th time this week, bailing on me and my parents. Do you have any idea how furious my dad was, Baka?"

In reality, Gojo did not go to the cinema to watch that stupid animated movie, he had to go to Kyoto to pick up the ring he ordered a while ago, he wanted to show it to your dad so that he could ask for his permission to marry you. He ran into some trouble on his way back to Tokyo, a special grade humanoid curse wreaking havoc in the train station in Roppongi, close to your favorite flower shop, one he visited to get a blatantly oversized bouquet of peonies. If the curse didn't show up, he would have made it to dinner in time, giving you the flowers he had irritably lost while fighting, with a kiss to your lips. He would have waited for you to excuse yourself from the table to go to the bathroom, he would have gotten the velvet box out of the pockets of his fancy slacks, showing the diamond that mimicked the color of his unique eyes to your father, asking for his approval. However, by the time he got to the restaurant you were already done with dinner and were on your way home. He did catch your parents though, they were waiting for their car, he did explain the situation to your dad, your mom's eyes were full of tears as they both hugged him, gladly accepting him into your family.

"We had to go watch it again baby 'cause Sukuna kept showing up, making Yuji miss some of the best parts." he said nonchalantly, trying to make you smile.

"I don't care, Gojo!" you said furiously, flabbergasted by the audacity of the man in front of you "I'm done. You know what?! I want a fucking divorce!"

By the time you finished your sentence you voice was laced with laughter, not taking the fight too seriously always helped, you knew he was planning to atone for his wrongdoing with your parents, making a reservation at the world's best restaurant's convenient Tokyo pop-up. However, you still wanted to make him understand how annoying it was, being ignored for 5 night in a row for the same dumb movie.

"BABY, WE'RE NOT EVEN MARRIED!" he shouted back, smiling widely. He knew the argument was over, you were joyous, your smile intoxicating. He enjoyed how lighthearted these moments were, nothing seemed to be complicated or exhausting when it came to you, one of the main reasons why he wanted to marry you.

"AND WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THAT, 'TORU?!"

"Oh, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into, my mochi." he says, trowing finger guns at you with a mischievous wink. He sprints out of the living room, taking long strides with his chicken legs. You observe him with confusion and you are urged to follow after him. "Stay exactly where you are!" he shouts from what you assume your bedroom and you can hear shuffling, the sound of his sock drawer opening with a screech, you can also hear glass breaking, he probably knocked over the vase sitting on top of his dresser. You look down the hallway leading to your shared bedroom and he appears at the end of it, his smile reaches his pretty eyes as he sprints back to you, but the floor is slippery and he falls, landing in front of you with one of his arms lifted towards the sky, a velvet box sitting on top of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight of the white gold band with the blatantly oversized diamond attached to it. He was groaning under his nose, whining about hitting his elbow, but he shows no effort of getting up.

"YES, SATORU, YES!" You shout in excitement, he didn't pop the question, but you knew your answer without hesitation. He smiles widely, looking up to meet your eyes, but you land on top of him with a huff, linking your arms around his neck, leaving a million kisses on his face. The whole situation is comical, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He takes pride in how excited you are, how you're laughing and giggling in eagerness. You're his everything, the diamond ring is the reminder that you will be his everything forever.

"I love you." he says quietly, getting up from the floor with you hanging around his body like a koala.

"I love you too, Satoru!" you whisper back gently, leaving a soft kiss on the spot behind his ear, which causes a shiver going through his body.

"Do you love me enough to marry me, mochi?" he asks timidly, afraid from rejection. It doesn't make a lot of sense, he knows you would say yes, you basically did already, but he feels the need to ask and with the question comes the possibility for rejection.

"Of course, silly! I would marry you today if I could." you answer, shuffling his soft hair gently. "But you will have to ask for my dad's permission and I'm not sure he would grant it to you after the shit you pulled, baby."

"I'm way ahead of you, pretty. I asked him yesterday after dinner. He even said he was excited fro me to become part of your family."

"But you weren't at dinner yesterday, 'toru..." you look at him questioningly, remembering your fight from earlier. "You didn't actually go to the movies, did you?"

"No, I didn't." he smiles widely.

"Then where were you?"

"Picking up a diamond ring in Kyoto so that I could propose mid-fight to my crazy little girlfriend." he says nonchalantly.

You want to be mad at him for lying to you. You want to scold him, for being secretive and always doing this dumb stuff. But you love him for his idiotic behaviour. You love him for his shenanigans. You are reminded about all the silly shit he pulls as he carefully slips the ring on your finger, the glimmering diamond matching the glint of his pretty eyes. You forget about your argument, you forget about all the other fights, because with Satoru around everything seems to be a bit silly and crazy.

[silviakundera]

Snowfall watch comments ep 11-12

Ep 11

Vamp Daddy is feeling violated and would like some clothes now, thx. "You keep staring at me. Even if you don't feel embarrassed, I do feel a sense of shame."

Sorry, the villain is erotically, psychotically obssesed with you, so no

Loser Li: "Aren't you a big shot? Aren't you a socialite? You think you're above me just because of your wealth and power?"

Vamp Daddy:

Literal army observing the toxic gay happenings: ... um I think that was supposed to be your inside voice

Mu Lihua is obviously making excuses to herself to use the magic yang ring, which is killing her

BACKSTORY: in which it was all the fault of Vamp Daddy'd grandma for deciding to burn alive both his dad's chicken killing concubine and also her son. Sorry grandma, burning a small child alive while he screams for his big brother is uncool and I'm not surprised she went berserk and killed y'all. 🤷

If that kid grew up to be our mildly evil doctor bestie, I think u 2 should hug it out and say bygones are bygones. Yes he gave you some vampirism but also, you survived 100 years to experience some great fashion choices and meet an incredibly weird blind girl who is very into you. It's not all bad.

Loser Li is literally crying here, just barely hanging into any dignity by a thread, while Vamp Daddy calls him out as looking heartbroken. 🌈

MORE BACKSTORY: Loser Li ran into Vamp Daddy when a teen and naively thought this rich dude could magically fix his sister w his rich people powers. Except some people shot up the joint and Vamp Daddy ran away and his sis died. No magic fix for his sister. No one else to blame, so he hates himself and the (handsome) stranger that he'd unrealistically pinned his hopes on.

Loser Li has all that pent up rage bewing inside, yet still takes time out of his busy gangster schedule to sit on bed beside Vamp Daddy and removing his muzzle, "If you want to escape, that's fine. We can both die together if it comes to that."

More flirting, angst, bars

"You did well."

oh... kay

Loser Li's boss wants to just dispose of Vamp Daddy if the scans don't show anything else exciting. I do not think Loser Li is gonna accept this.

Any more than I can accept more screentime for nepo baby. At least it smoked out doctor bestie!

Jin nepo baby is kinda being used as a plausible deniability There Is A Hetro Explanation For This on Loser Li's character. Except not really, because his behavior and words are also internally consistent with her being a childhood playmate when a sevant kid, who now he wants to draw the line with for multiple reasons (the best one being, he's a murderer & active criminal). Also, bisexuality exists.

Ep 12

We're bringing the gf and doctor bestie along for the ride! Thanks Loser Li, I missed them.

I can barely recognize my fav loser in brown leather.

The trio reunited!

Doctor Bestie is so annoyed that Vamp Daddy keeps being defeated by Loser Li, when he could simply solve this all by killing him

Is Doctor Bestie gonna clock the Mu heir?

Vamp Daddy offers Loser Li both money and 🌈 friendship 🌈 and he's soooooooo shook

Mu Lihua having more seizures because she can't let go of her mood ring. smh.

Midly Evil Doctor Bestie: some people evade all responsibilities and some people bear them all, to feel alive. He's the latter.

Me: and you're the 1st kind, right? right????

Really love his chill. I want to know what's behind it. 🕵

Vamp Daddy alone in a room with Loser Li and very deliberately seducing him while pretending not to: "I will perish together with you." It's the guy I care about, not the girl. People can want & feel multiple things at a time. I didn't know you then but I do now - we know each other.

seriously - the way the actor for Li Yingliang does this swallow at him saying they know each other well now and then Vamp Daddy nods in assent. The body language and his face.👌👌👌

Fuck, Vamp Daddy knows he hooked him

Vamp Daddy and Sus Doctor play Mahjong with the villians and I'm fairly certain they're just fucking with them.

Loser Li looks annoyed to be losing yet again in life but tbh what result do you expect when gambling with someone 100+ years old

The allusions to his brother !!! Is the doctor his brother???? If so DOES HE SUSPECT?? ?????

Vamp Daddy trying to hard sell Loser Li until the last moment. Run away w me and join my polycule. I have riches and also, I'm me 👁👄👁

I think our fav villainous bisexual is just scared to take what he wants.

He is convinced there's no way back after you sell your soul to the local warlord and is scared to contemplate the alternative; if he walks away now, that means he could have found a way to walk away before - which means he's partially culpable for the wrong he's done.

They're staring at each other thru the window now. It's very romantic.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

From Criminial Mastermind to Fairy Tale Hero: The End of Artemis Fowl

Here we are, everyone: The final Artemis Fowl book. It has been a journey revisiting the first series I was old enough to follow and fandom, and it's wild to me that we're finally at the end. Especially since I picked up the first Artemis Fowl book in late elementary school (I'm genuinely not sure when though, because the first book came out in April of 2001, when I was in fifth grade and it's very possible I didn't pick the book up until sixth grade, which would have put me at 11, same age as Artemis in that first book) and the final book came out in 2012, when I was in my junior year of undergrad. So at that point, Artemis, Holly, and Butler had been part of my life for a long time. And now here we are, to say goodbye to them again after this leisurely re-listen/read. Let's talk Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian.

Artemis grew and changed so much across eight books, which makes sense because holy cow do kids change a LOT between 11 and 15. We get so busy living life in those years that we don't really think about how much we truly learn and grown between prepubescence and full-on teenagerhood, but that is a time of massive change, and I think that more than anything else really justifies how Artemis goes from a chillingly vampiric child to a teenager with enough compassion and empathy to understand that sometimes the right choice is a heroic self-sacrifice for the people that your people (both humans and the people, in this case) love. Artemis also did a really interesting version of that thing so many teenagers do where they hit a point where they can't just phone in their abilities anymore and have to actually put effort in, but for Artemis it was emotional rather than intelligence. And yet even when making said heroic sacrifice, we have the absolutely beautiful callback to the end of book one, where Artemis drugs his mother, Butler, and Juliet to keep them from being harmed by the bio-bomb. To stop Holly from preventing him from stopping Opal, Artemis sedates her. The more things change, the more they stay the same...

Except where best villain ever Opal Koboi is concerned. By this book, Opal is so disconnected from reality that she is willing to risk literally going nuclear to escape captivity, and then just...casually sparks off the apocalypse because if there is one thing our girl wants, it's to be Empress of the World, and if that means using spirit zombies and an ancient fairy doomsday device, then I guess it's a good thing she's already versed in black magic. Or something. Opal is fully and completely off the rails at this point, and if you catch yourself referring to yourself as "Mommy" in reference to the spirits of several scores of ancient elven berserkers who would--barring a geas--murder you for it, you might want to stop and take a long, hard look at your life choices. And maybe don't forget that you've cloned yourself, because that's the kind of little detail that can completely ruin your chances of being Empress of the World.

Holly quite possibly deserves every medal that exists for managing to drag Artemis's extremely out-of-shape butt through increasingly dangerous and high-stakes missions while navigating fairy politics and *checks notes* breaking up with her commanding officer after a disastrous date where they both got kicked out of a crunchball match. (And once again...HOW DARE Colfer leave this in exposition and not show us this amazing disaster of a date!?!?) Holly has also just been through the emotional wringer with Artemis and every time he decided to double-cross or lie by omission to bring off a plan and every time he does something infuriatingly human that drives up her blood pressure and yet makes the mission succeed. And then she has to sit there and watch him die to save humans and fairies. Seriously, the fact that Holly Short is a functional being rather than a hot mess is nothing short of a miracle.

And then we come to Butler. Long-suffering, super fucking over it, broken-hearted Domovoi Butler. Artemis got DAMN lucky that the whole "put my spirit in a clone of me" plan panned out, because if it hadn't, Holly was entirely correct: Butler would never have recovered. Butler and Opal might be my two favorite characters in the entire series at this point. That's not where I started--for a very long time, Holly was my favorite character, and Commander Root still gets an honorable mention--but as a grown-ass adult (I'm not doing that math for you, if you want to know that I'm old, you do the math), I cannot escape how dedicated, competent, kind, and just AWESOME Butler is. I feel like the vibe here is very similar to the thing that happens when you watch Sound of Music as a kid and either Maria or one of the kids is your favorite character, but when you come back to it as an adult, Captain Von Trapp is EVERYTHING (RIP Christopher Plummer, we loved you). Butler has a similar vibe but in a different genre.

So, I was an adult and had enough experience of watching fandoms to see the mixed reactions to this book being released. People were sad the series was ending, people were disappointed because the series had seemingly drifted, and people loved it. My reaction was pretty mixed, because I had a lot going on, I knew there were good things here but I was also kind of missing the heisty, criminal mastermind vibes, but also OPAL KOBOI. So I was pretty unsure how to feel about this book when it came out, and then I didn't reread it for literal years because I went to grad school.

Returning to this book now, I have suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch respect for how Colfer tied up the series and how he pulled off a new Irish mythological cycle, but updated for the twenty-first century. I have enough life on me to appreciate the changes Artemis goes through, and enough literature degrees to have a new and deeply fulfilling perspective on the series structure. Last Guardian is not my favorite book of the series--it's not even in the top three--but I think that what it does is genuinely impressive and I love how you can finish this book and go instantly back into the OG Artemis Fowl. The story does not, strictly speaking, have to end. And that is a vibe I can 100% get behind.

I deeply love the Artemis Fowl books, and I cannot recommend the series enough. They have so many strengths, are incredibly well-written, and they live rent-free in my head even now as an adult.