#i think its valid to have concerns about what he's going to do because he is new and people may not like it

[gooopy]

Fml. I have mental illnesses for real fhat arent just garden variety anxiety and depression <- sorry it turned into a vent/rant in the tags. The perilous poster

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi I just wanna say I read the Dad! Stanley hcs you did and it was sooo goood I loved every bit of it.

I was wondering if you could do a bit of an angsty request where Stanley's child is in there late teens an gets possesed by Bill, like what do you think his reaction would be, since when dipper got possesed by bill, bill physicaly injured dippers body a lot and was just genuinely careless with his body. Also I have no idea when the reader would be possesed by bill mabey after Ford is back to make things extra angsty since ford knows of bill, idk do whatever you like with this request I just like angst with for no reason whatsoever.

Also I did try to find if you had any request rules but I couldn't find any so if you do have rules and this request is something you don't feel comfortable writing then please just ignore this request, I hope you have a brilliant day or night :D.

Another thing I just wanted to mention is I'm sorry for how long this request is.

Far From The Weight of The World

Dad!Stanley Pines x Teen!Reader

❀ 9,1k words its a loottt so if ur ready to hunker down and read a whole bunch this is for u!!

❀ guess who finished far from the weight of the world THIS GUYYY

❀ it wouldn't have ever seen the light of day if it wasn't for @raventeen they helped me sm!! like they helped every single step of the way and chose the direction of where this should go so big thanks to them <3

❀ i hope you all enjoy this! :3

❀ possible tw: description of skin melting off, throwing up blood, self inflicted harm, more blood, uhh broken bones? even more blood

❀ gn!reader

❀ i love dad stan pines smmm

❀ requests r still open hehe

“Sweetheart!” Stan’s footsteps could be heard thumping on the ground towards you. You marched forwards, your throat painfully knotted in a ball, suppressing your sobs and swallowing your words. Your head swirled with the word liar, spinning around hastily. Whispers of Mable and Dipper could be heard distantly behind you, their concerned eyes digging holes right through you. Too swept up by your wind of emotions you ignored their worried looks. 

“We can talk about this, kiddo. Just give me a second.” His fingers curl against your arm but you yank it away before he’s able to wrap them around you. “What do you want, Dad?” You promptly turned around, glassy eyes somberly staring into his wide ones. “Can you please give me a chance. Hear me out,” his voice cracked at the end, his hands twitching to desperately reach out to you and prevent you from taking another step further away from him. “I don’t know If I can trust you, Dad.” Uttering that sentence shattered something within you. Not once have you thought of yourself ever telling your very own dad that you don’t trust him. He had never given you a reason to distrust him. To you, all his past lies were seen as truth to you, undeniable facts that couldn’t be broken apart because his word carried high validity, to you at least. But now, you’re not even sure that he’s telling you the truth right now.

Ford’s heavy shoes sounded on the creaky wooden floors, announcing his presence wordlessly. “[Name], dear. Listen to your father.” He adds. He looked at you with an analytical stare, twisting your stomach inside out. You didn’t like how he looked at you like you were one of his captured anomalies, inspecting you and reading your tense body language, anticipating for the second where you’d act out of pure emotion so he’d supply you with meaningless words that held nothing but empty hope to burn out the flurry of emotions that ran rampant inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Uncle Ford.” You spat out. He was the last person you wanted to hear anything from. From time to time, you’ve begged him to tell you what exactly is going around here yet he’d always brush you aside, dismissing whatever you’d ask and move on with the next thing that gripped his attention. “You never wanted to say anything to me until now.” 

Ford, not expecting your answer, stumbled with his words. He shakes his head, almost as if he’s expelling his shock with the shakes and regains his composure. “[Name],” he starts off with a stern tone. “You are acting purely on your emotions. I need you to compose yourself and talk to us when you’re relaxed enough to form a proper sentence that doesn’t have you snapping at us.” 

Your jaw gawks open. “So you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be feeling upset over this? 

Ford clicked his tongue, a twinge of frustration oozing out of him. Everything you’re saying is going off the script Ford had curated in his head. He’s rendered useless as he scrambles for words he can put together in a sentence that’ll feasibly flip your train of thought around and convince you that the way you’re acting is irrational. 

Ford waved his head side to side, unsure with his answer. Stan noticed the apprehension shrouded on Ford’s face and he silently signaled to him to not say what he’s about to say, already knowing that his poor choice of words was going to send this whole situation right on its back. Too stubborn for his own good, Ford stood his ground and opened his mouth much to Stan’s clear distaste of him speaking his mind. 

“Yes but no.” You grit your teeth together, eyes narrowly staring daggers at Ford who looked seemingly pleased with his response.

Stan gulps nervously, taking a cautious step forward. “Sweetie, don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what–” 

“--You’re telling me that I’m overreacting? I have just found out that my dad has been lying to me since the moment I was born! And to make matters worse, you all are hiding things from me. None of you are bothering to tell me what the hell is going on here. Why are we all so secretive? We all promise to tell each other everything, no more secrets, no more lies! What happened to that? You all know something and I have a right to know as well!”

You heaved out a ragged breath, words spilling out of you in a madden rush. You held down your tongue for too long. Long nights of sneaky meandering had left you scrambling all the pieces they had discarded on secrets of Gravity Falls together, solving and answering all the questions you laid out for them but chose to ignore. All the lies Stan had fed you over the years concerning this supposed lazy town was unraveling right in front of you. What else had he been hiding from you? What other filthy lies had he pushed on you that you so mindlessly believed? 

Stan’s mouth flounders, stammers of jumbled sounds spilled out. His arms are rendered at his side, stunned with your outburst. “I thought I was protecting you.” He whispers, his fingers flexing anxiously. “Dad! This whole summer has been nothing but crazy. I didn’t know that we had half of those monsters in our woods because you lied to me and told me that it’s been my imagination. What if I had gotten close to one thinking that it was all in my head, and the beast mauls my head off. What then, Dad?” 

Stan deflates. Lost for words, he runs a hand down his gray hair. Thinking about finding your bloodied body sent full body chills down his spine and his stomach lurching. He never sat down and thought of the consequences of what he told you. As long as he said that it was all in your head, he thought you would’ve strayed away from them. 

“I’m going outside. Maybe some stupid gnome would actually tell me what’s going on here because nobody here wants to even tell me anything.” The door slammed shut, causing everything on the wall to rattle and almost tip over. “Oh,” Stan drooped his head onto his palms, tears swelling in his eyes. “I really screwed up here.” He whispered to himself, his voice crackly and small. 

Ford patted his back and Stan believed for a quick moment that Ford was going to say something so beautifully uplifting that he’d see the brighter sides of things, but he tells him, “When are you not?” and continues to pat his back.

Stan violently shrugged Ford’s hand off, his hand pushing Ford away from him. “Really, poindexter?” He scoffs, walking off into the living room where Mable and Dipper watched the whole scene unfold. “I thought it would offer some comfort!” He defeatedly argues back, a dejected sigh escaping him when his eyes meet Mable’s watery ones and Dipper’s disappointed glare. “Kids, I—“ Mable swiftly turns her head to the side, mumbling something under her breath as she ambles up to her room. 

“I’m going to find them.” Stan walks in, slipping on a jacket to shield him from the cold. “I’m coming too.” Ford reaches out to grab the doorknob when Stan’s hand stops him from doing so. “I don’t think they want to see you right now.” Stan gingerly shoved Ford out of the way, leaving him to his thoughts as he shut the door behind him. Cursing to himself, Ford rams his foot on the door angrily. 

Venturing far into the lush woods, you grumbled bitterly to yourself. You couldn’t even trust your own family to tell you something so simple. How utterly pathetic is that? 

You fought the urge to punch a nearby tree and continued on, getting yourself lost in the natural maze of the forest. You wanted to get as far away as possible just so you can find time for yourself to cool down. After a while, the cold air started to nip at your exposed arms. The hairs on your body stood up as a cold shiver rippled through you. Hugging yourself to provide some warmth you found yourself sitting on the grassy floor, back leaning against the bark of the tree. 

The soft chirps and squeaks of the animals brought a sense of calmness over you. These woods have been declared dangerous by Stan and for the longest time you never went out here without Stan hovering behind you or Soos mindlessly meandering through the woods with you. Your hands swayed across the green blades of grass, focusing on the itchy feeling that ran through your palms rather than the bitter cold. The faint whistles of the wind swirled around your ears and out around you. Has this forest always been so peaceful? Leaning your head against the trunk of the tree, you closed your eyes shut. Relishing in the comforting nature the woods provided you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes shoot open. “Dad?” Your heart quickens, your head whipping around rapidly. “Sweetie?” Stan’s voice grew closer and closer. The sound of the grass crunching and bending under his steps resounded throughout the quiet woods, his calls becoming more frequent and louder. How did he find you so quickly? 

A shadowy figure, one you’ve grown to recognize, stepped out from the shade and presented himself. “[Name].” Stan sweetly calls out, kneeling down beside you. “Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Stan smiled, opening his mouth but all that came out was a raspy breath. “Wha–” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

Stan’s skin started melting off in a disgusting mess of bubbling flesh. The side of his face became a drooping mess and a crazed cackle left his lips. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, kid!” He points a boney finger at you, melted flesh sludge dripping from the bone. You scramble back, terrified screams ripping out of you. 

“W-What is going on?” You push yourself up from the floor with your hand, bile coating the back of your throat at the horrid sight of Stan’s bloodied flesh sploshing to the floor. “I’m just playing tricks on you!” With a snap of his finger, Stan poofed away in thin air. What took his spot was an ominous floating triangle with a top hat. “Well, well, well, look who it is, [Name]! I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later. I gotta admit, I'm thrilled!” His eye crinkled in a joyous smile. 

“How…” You blinked dumbly at the floating triangle. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“You sure are, kid!” 

A wave of recognition passes through you. This was the god Ford was talking about in one of his journals. Your knowledge of him was not much, but from the tidbits you have read, Ford had admired this god. He went as far as to calling the triangle his muse. What was his name? Wasn’t it– “Bill?” His name spills out of your mouth. “Ah! So you do know about me?” He tilts a little in your direction, his hands clasped together. “Hear anything good?” A glimmer of forlorn hope shimmers in his eye before it’s washed away with an inquisitive look. “I-I think so? My Uncle really liked you from what I had read in his journals.” You squint your eyes in thought.

“Oh, he really liked me.” Bill’s charmed voice had entailed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t give you time to mull over that thought before jumping into the flow of another topic. “But that’s all in the past now, right?” He snaps his fingers, a comfortable looking chair appearing before your eyes. He floated down on the chair, kicking his legs up and crossing them. 

“I heard that a little someone has been lied to, isn’t that unfortunate?” The corner of his eye pulled to the side, almost as if it was a sadden frown. “How did you know?” The chair poofs away.  “I see everything, kid!” His hands fall to his sides and he slowly leans towards you, his eye pulled wide open. Flashes of images you couldn’t quite comprehend flickered by in a brisk montage. “Everything.” He draws out. “Anyways, I've got a deal for you. You give me, I give you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?” 

You raise a brow. “How can I trust you?” You rolled your fingers around the grass, delicately pulling on them. 

“Your dear Uncle Ford trusted me!” He shakes his hands enthusiastically. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, still not convinced. “You literally pretended to be my dad and melted him right in front of me.” Bill put his fists to his sides, huffing out like a little child. “Can’t a triangle have a little fun here?” He rolled his eye dramatically. You eyed him, skepticism evident on your face. “I don’t know…” You plucked out a few blades of grass from the dirt. “I feel like if you wanted to gain my trust then you shouldn’t have done that.” You crumpled up the grass into a little green ball and tossed it at Bill. The ball passes through his body. 

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once I propose the deal..?” Bill’s eye stretched out and morphed into a mouth with his lips puckered. He whistles out a tune you can’t recognize and innocently kicks the air. “Go on,” You wave your hand out to him. “If you make a deal with me, everything that you’ve been wanting to know will be revealed to you. All you have to do is shake my hand.” He extended out his hand, blue flame engulfing it whole. You blink your eyes in surprise. Was it really that easy? “There’s no catch?” 

Bill’s fingers trembled in anticipation. “None whatsoever!” 

You could trust him, right? Ford had trusted him! Bill even confirmed it himself. And with what you read, Bill had been giving him infinite knowledge. Feeding him thoughts that no one else had thought of before. He did manage to build that portal and come to think of it, wasn’t it triangular shaped? Was that Bill shaped or were you reaching? You think for a minute more, weighing the pros and the cons. Biting your tongue, you looked at Bill. Bill made a deal with Ford and he’s still alive and well, so how bad could it really be?

You bite the bullet and grasp onto his hand, the flame trailing towards you and consuming your hand whole. A maniacal laugh rips through the air and the world stills. The color drains around you, unpleasantly welcoming you to a monochrome world. “That was just too easy!” Bill wipes a tear from his eye, his firm grip on your hand never wavering. “W-What do you mean?” You tried forcefully pulling your hand away from Bill’s iron grip but it felt like your whole hand was encased in stone. No matter how hard you tried prying yourself away from his hold, his hand still didn’t budge. His eye twists into a pleased smile, his fingers thumping against the edge of your palm gleefully. 

“Was I an idiot for trusting you?” Your words came out in a quiet whisper. You can feel the life being sucked out of you as Bill drew his hand back. “Yes! Absolutely!” He said with a cheer, yanking his hand back suddenly, pulling you out of your physical form. Bill wasted no time taking over your body. He rose up with a delighted laugh, his hands running down your body, taking in the new but familiar feeling. “Wow!” He pressed your palms on your lower back, stretching out your back with a few gratifying pops. “It has been so long since I’ve possessed someone!” Cracking your fingers, he turned over to your floating form with an eerie smile. The world bleeds back into its colors and the soft tranquil sounds of the forest flooded your ears. “Funny how we switched places, huh?” 

You let out a shaky breath, your mind relentlessly battering you with words. How was this even possible? How could you be so foolish? You couldn’t even comprehend any of this. Bill moving around and using your body was terrifying. That was physically you and right now, he was joyously ramming your fist into the tree. You can see the skin on your knuckles rip and tear, blotchy patches of blood tainting the light bark. A light tingle of pain buzzed on your knuckles but it went away as quickly as it came.

“You’re so easy to injure! How weak are you?” He observes the damage eagerly, making your finger pinch on a frayed piece of skin. He twisted it and pulled it back, lightly chuckling to himself as he watched pearls of blood bead up from the now exposed skin. “Bill, stop!” Out of instinct, your hand went over to swat his arm away. A cold gust of wind flows through you as your hand phases right through yo–Bill. He stopped, plucking off the skin and flicking it aside.  “If you keep hurting yours–, I mean, me! They’re going to wonder what happened.”

“Not if I tell them that you got attacked!” He said in a sing-song voice, his eyes keenly looking around for anything else that’ll harm your body. “[Name]!” Stan’s voice rung in the air, pulling you and Bill from your thoughts. A sinister smile tug at Bill’s lips as an idea fills his head. Your stomach flips inside out. Discreet grunts and groans seized your attention and you whipped your head over to Bill climbing up a tree. “What are you doing!” Your hands fly to your hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Breaking the bones inside this meaty vessel, duh.” He hoists himself up on a thick branch. “Would a fall from this height kill you?” Bill ponders out loud, shakily standing up. “Are you seriously going to do this!” Your eyes darted from Bill sticking out your foot from under you to the direction where Stan’s voice could be heard. Bill lets your question float up in the air and with a child-like shout, he jumps off the branch, keeping your legs straight. You look away, unable to witness Bill carelessly treat your body like a toy. 

A stomach turning snap sounded in the air. “[Name]!” Stan’s distressed voice alerted you.

You whip your head around to see Stan cradling your body. Bile crawls up your throat upon seeing your twisted leg limply hang on the other side. “Sweetheart? What happened?” Stan’s words rushed out in a flurried frenzy. You slapped a palm to your mouth, anxiously awaiting for Bill to slip up and sell out his identity to Stan. “I don’t know…” You hear your very own voice leave your mouth. Bill’s agitating voice was nowhere to be heard. Vomit fills your mouth and you fight every muscle in your body to not spew it out. “I was just laying on the tree, not doing anything when something attacked me. I…” Bill allows a few tears to cascade down your face before continuing. “I thought I was going to die, Dad. I was so scared!” He dramatically sobs onto Stan’s sweater, purposefully grazing your shredded bleeding knuckle on his jacket. 

A gasp swelled in Stan’s chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I-I…” He harshly shuts his mouth closed, his pupils shrinking upon seeing your bloody knuckle. He was at fault for this, if he had never lied to you, if he would have just told you the truth from the start, you wouldn’t be so injured. Silently he carefully picked you up from the floor. To sprinkle a little more dramatics on the show Bill had out for you, he hissed out in faux pain, shooting your hand to your bent leg. Stan cringed, his eyes avoiding the general direction of your broken leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” He weakly muttered, his eyebrows pinched firmly in worry. 

Stan trekked through the thick foliage with your body curled in his arms. He dodged under branches that stuck out and sidestepped the stones that protruded from the ground. The entire walk was in silence, aside from the periodic sniffles coming from Stan and quiet hiccups. All you wanted to do at that moment was wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you weren’t even so sure of that yourself.

When Stan approaches the front door of the shack, a wave of conflicted emotion flickers through Bill’s eyes before he closes his eyes abruptly and goes slack in Stan’s arms. 

Stan chokes out a garbled yell for Ford. He heaves your body over his shoulder, twisting open the door with a slam and barging into the shack. “Stanley?!” Ford frantically ran over to Stan, his hands gesturing wildly at the sight before his eyes. “Th-They passed out in my arms! I don’t know what to do, Stanford!” 

You grapple at your face, desperate to make sense of what’s happening. You watch with a heavy heart when Mable and Dipper scramble to Stan’s side, troubled voices speaking over one another trying to understand what happened to you and to ask if you were dead. Their frantic cries and yells chaotically fill the silence in the shack. Ford yelled over their voices, instructing Stan to quickly settle you down on the couch so he could conduct a proper examination on your wounded body. All Stan could do is go along with his commands, mind hazy with borderline delirium as he stumbles towards the living room. 

“Dad,” you whisper, your fingertips grazing through him. You hold back the sob that scratched at your throat. This can’t be happening right now. 

Cracking an eye open to your direction, you can feel Bill’s sleazy smile draw on your face. Your stomach shrivels up in disgust at the sight. His yellow eyes gleamed under the dimly lit shack as he stared at you. Mable’s rushed steps drew Bill to close your eyes. “Grunkle Stan! Please tell me they’re okay!” Mable has the collar of her sweater pulled up to her mouth, her never ending stream of tears staining the sweater. “Mable. Give him some space.” Dipper murmured, holding Mable back as he tensely watched Stan lay you down. 

Ford eventually came in with a first aid kit. His appearance looked a little more disheveled than before. His hair was strewn about and ruffled, glasses crookedly sat atop of his nose and one of his sleeves was rolled up and cuffed while the other one was untouched. He sucked in a harsh breath upon seeing your split knuckles, dried blood crusted around the wounds and raw skin. The gashes reminded him of his own busted up knuckles when he was possessed by Bill. Alarm signs flared in his face but he batted them away, chalking it up to your injuries being caused by whatever animal had attacked you in the woods when you were alone. He treated the lacerations with antibodies and meticulously wrapped your hand in medical gauze. Gently placing your hand beside you, he looked over to your broken leg, holding a bated breath. Broken bones weren’t his favorite injury to heal since it takes extensive time off from anything physical and you having a broken leg at a time like this wasn’t ideal. He just needed to find ways to heal your leg quickly. 

“I need you all to leave the living room.” Ford clapped his hands together, dragging a hand down his fingers. “W-What, why?!” This was the first time Stan spoke in a while and it surprised Ford. Clearing his throat, he answered: “Because I can’t focus with your eyes hovering all over me. I-I need to think and if I’m going to treat their leg, I need you all to leave.” Against everyone’s wishes, Ford ushered them out,  leaving him alone to fully think about possible treatments he could have you undergo to heal your leg. 

You didn’t have a good feeling about leaving Bill alone with Ford. They had history with each other and having a past with someone like Bill doesn’t seem like a good thing. 

“Fordsy…” 

Ford’s body physically recoiled inwards at the familiar nickname. His head darted around the room, helplessly searching for the owner of the voice. He can’t be here can he? That voice just sounded so eerily similar to yours, but why would you call him Fordsy? Blood pumps in his ear drums, obstructing his hearing. 

“Sixeerrr.” His fingers curl around his arms. The light glow of horrifying unforgettable eyes glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He turns over to see you sat up on the couch, a smile stretched from ear to ear as Bill’s eyes shone into his. Ford’s blood ran cold, his mind swirling like a whirlwind. “Bill?” His heart pounds behind his rib cage. 

“The one and only, Sixer.” Hearing Bill’s voice crackle through your own instilled despair all over Ford’s body. Taking a wary step back, his shaky eyes watched as Bill threw your legs down the couch, your left eye flinching closed as pain shivered through Bill. He severely underestimated how much pain your leg would cause him. To fight against it, he slammed your leg on the floor. Pain jostled through him, a shuddering sigh blowing past your lips. The aching pain overtook your leg for a moment before it relented into a numbing buzzing feeling. “Much better!” He stands up, smiling broadly. 

Ford sucked in a stuttering breath, his eyes fleeting over to the hallway. “What do you want, Bill?” 

“I don’t know…” He rolled your head in thought. “Maybe the rift to the portal? It’s a crazy thing to ask, I know!” He laughs to himself. 

You wanted to bash your head on the wall. This was the reason why he made a deal with you. It was because of a stupid rift. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of the importance of the rift, but you knew it was serious business with how you heard Ford talk about it in passing. You need to find a way to stop Bill. 

Ford sneered. “Try all you want, Bill. But you’re not getting the portal.” Bill rolled your shoulders, earning a few noisy crackles of your bones. Ford tenses up, readying himself for the fight that’s about to pursue when Bill charges towards him, side stepping him at the last second and darting out of the living room. “Haha! I got you!” He teases, hissing out in pain when he applied too much pressure on your busted leg. “Stanley!” Ford yelled out, stumbling over his own feet as he ran after Bill. Hurried footsteps stomp down on the stairs, panicked talking and breaths littered the air. “[Name] is possessed by Bill!” A chorus of “WHAT?” echoes in the house. 

He skids to a stop in front of the open vending machine. Ford tugged on his hair, mumbling to himself in shock. How does he know the password? Wasting no time to dwell on that, he pads down the stairs. His stomach lurches forward when he notices Bill step inside the elevator, a snarky smile on your face as he turns around and waves at Ford. “Bill!” He launches himself forward, missing a few steps of the stairs and landing on the ground near the elevator. He trips over to the closing elevator, his fist slamming on the door as it shuts. 

“Ford, what is going on?” Stan pants out. Ford rapidly presses the elevator button, anxiously watching as the elevator dinged on down to the bottom. An idea passes through your head. Mumbling a self-motivating sentence Mable had showed you, you dived straight through the floor, phasing through the other two rooms and landing in the lab room. As stupid as it sounds, you’re going to repossess your body back.  

“Bill, he–he has [Name]!” Ford delivers a punch to the buttons, knocking the plate off its screws. Stan’s face contorts into a mixture of anger and concern. “He has what!? How the fuck does Bill have [Name], Ford!” Ford rested his forehead on the wall. “Now’s not the time to freak out, Stanley!”

Stan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “It’s the perfect time to freak out, Stanford! Bill has my kid!” 

“Bill has [Name]?” Mable’s shrill reverberated through the empty staircase. “Kids, you can’t be here!” Ford warns, shooting out his hand to stop Mable and Dipper from getting any closer. “We want to help, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sternly said. “That’s a funny joke, kid.” Stan chuffs out dryly, his attention snapping towards the elevator that was now rising up the shaft, dinging with each stop. “It’s not a joke!” Dipper dipped under Ford’s arm and stood in front of the elevator, Mable following in suit. “Stanley, do something!” Ford gestures to Mable and Dipper who are unmoving from their spot. Stan scoffs, dismissing him with a flick of his wrist. “They’re already here, Stanford. There’s no point in stoppin’ them now.” 

With a loud chime, the elevator pulls back its doors. The twins were the first to step inside, whispering to themselves as Ford and Stan walked in. Mable rushes over to the panel containing three buttons and using her tippy toes, she slams the last button with the palm of her hand. The elevator registers the destination with a slight rumble and shuts the door closed, leading them down to Ford’s lab. 

Ford could see Stan’s harsh breathing and clenched fists out the corner of his eye. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he steels both him and Ford with: “We’re going to save them, Stanley.” Stan breathes out, teetering his head back with his eyes shut. “I hope you’re right about that.” 

The elevator quivers to a stop, the doors creakily pulling open. The four of them step out of the elevator and into the lab. “I was expecting it to be destroyed down here.” Dipper comments. 

Through the protective window, Ford could see Bill fighting with himself, your body laying limp for a few seconds before revving back up to life. He watches the cycle repeat for a few more times before shaking his head. “He’s outside.” He advises everyone. 

In a blink of an eye, Stan was already out into where Bill was, blowing countless angry questions at his face, his eyes shifting everywhere but at you. “Woah, woah, woah!” Bill took a cautious step back as he watched everyone circle around him, caught off guard with the sudden intrusion. “Don’t get your underwear in a twist, haha, am I right?” 

Pure and utter silence. 

Bill’s smile falters. “Okay, touch crowd!” 

“Cut the crap, Bill. Give me back my kid!” Stan grunts out. “I can let them talk to you! After all, they’re up here.” He taps the side of your head. “Stop messing around!” Ford takes a step toward Bill. “Don’t come any closer!” Your own voice filters through Bill’s interdimensional voice. Ford hesitates in his steps, sharing a cautionary glance with Stan. Shuffling your hand behind you, he pulls out the shimmering rift. “I will break this!” He threatens, flipping it upside down. 

Ford narrows his eyes at Bill. “You would’ve done so by now. What’s stopping you?” He motions Dipper and Mable to sneak past Bill and hide behind him, just in case he decides to do anything that’ll compromise the rift and you. “Nothing!” Bill strains out, trying to wiggle the rift out of your grasp. Ford takes notice of your white knuckles and connects two and two together. You’re somehow fighting against Bill for your body. “Fascinating…” 

“Aghh! Why can’t this stupid kid let go!” Bill grumbles, using your other hand to scrape at your clenched hand. He scratched and clawed until the skin on your hand was red and raw. “Is [Name] currently fighting against you?” Ford inquires, a delighted smile on his face. “W-What? No!” Bill plucks your pinky finger off the rift. “See! I’m in total–” Your body jerks forward, and for a slight second, your eyes glinted back, only for you to be propelled backwards. With a shake of your head, your eyes blink and Bill’s eyes are back on you. “[Name] is a fighter, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly laughs out, still regaining control over your body with how he waverly stumbled side to side. 

Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Ford sent a quiet signal to Mable and Dipper. The twins tackle Bill from behind. A startle yelp leaves his mouth as he falls forward. “Stanley the–” Stan was already swooping in and snatching the rift out of your hands in one swift motion. Bill's face planted on the floor. “This stupid weak body!” Bill whines out, having your hands buckled tightly to your back by Dipper and Mabel. “Get something to tie their arms together with!” Stan said, jogging back into the lab, discreetly hiding the rift away from Bil’’s prodding eyes.

“I was so close!” Bill pressed your face into the dirt. The sharp tiny stones cut into your cheek and all Bill could do is focus on the itching pain rather than the humiliating feeling of being pinned down by two twelve year olds. Ford grabs the rope and securely binds your wrists together. The twins finally shuffle away from your body, watching Bill struggle under the restraints. “I’m going to be traumatized by the end of this.” She lets out a dejected sigh. “I feel like nothing can phase me after this.” Dipper adds. 

“How are we going to get them back into their body?” Stan questioned Ford who was double checking the bindings on your wrist, making sure they weren’t too tight to burn your skin off but tight enough to keep Bill detained “I think I have an idea on how…” He breathes out, looking over to Stan, face full of unease. “But it might not work if everyone isn’t present.” 

Stan found himself staring dumbly at the diagram that Ford had etched into the dirt with a stick. “What is this?” Ford finished the final symbol within the diagram, discarding the stick behind him. “A zodiac diagram.” He says, dusting off his hands. “And what does this have to do with saving [Name]?” 

Ford spares a quick glance over to you. Mable and Dipper sat on each of your sides, keeping a careful eye on you as you alternated with yourself and Bill. Dipper’s face contorted into a painful expression whenever you’d jerk your head upwards, a random assortment of words spilling out of you before your head flies back down. That agonizing process continues for what feels like an eternity and he could clearly see the toll it’s taken on your body. Stan couldn't make himself  watch you suffer, biting his lip so hard blood builds up on his lip.

“Yes.” Ford curtly nods his head. “I had always hypothesized what this would be used for but It never occurred to me until now that it could be used like this.” 

Stan doesn’t like the slight sound of uncertainty in Ford’s tone. How could Ford be so sure that it works? “So, you’re telling me that you have never done this before?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. “Don’t worry about whether it works or not. We don’t have time to think about what if’s.” Curiously eyeing the symbols on the floor, he pondered in his head. Who could possibly stand on what zodiac?

Mable had walked right next to Stan, she looked like she had something to say when her eyes fell on the diagram, her eyes shining. “That one reminds me of Wendy.” She points at the zodiac that was an ice bag. An idea dawned upon Ford. “Does it now?” He kneels down to Mable’s height. “Mable, dear. Can you look at these zodiac signs and tell me who they remind you of?” 

Mable was quick to point out and tell Ford each symbol that reminded her of a person. Jotting down all the names in his head, he began calling each and every one of them, stringing Mable along to help him convince them to come over to the Mystery Shack. One by one, they all started pooling in. Questions sprouted from one mouth to another and every single time, their questions received answers when their eyes landed on your struggling form.

“Okay, everyone stand in your respective spots and hold hands!” Ford’s voice was quiet in the distance. Stan had found himself kneeling in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes carried a deep sorrowful guilt to them. “Feeling guilty, Stanley?” Bill drawled out, pulling your heavy head up, only for it to be knocked down to the side. Your body was growing weak and Bill was tirelessly fighting against it. Unbeknownst to Stan, you were right next to him. Your unrelenting attempts to gain your body back had caused an aggressive strain on your body. You couldn’t stay in it without feeling utterly exhausted, allowing Bill to abuse your weak spot and take over your body. But that weak spot had also applied to him as well. You were trying to regain your breath before you’d try again. 

“Can it, Bill.” He scoops you up from the floor, walking towards the diagram. 

“You don’t have to do this!” Bill aggressively barked out, throwing himself around in Stan’s hold. “I do have to do this. You’re in my kid's body.” He grunted, throwing your body over his shoulder. “They made a deal with me! I won this body fair and square.” Bill argued, hammering your head down on Stan’s back. “Look, I just found out about you not too long ago. But for someone who was supposedly this all powerful demon, you pathetically really weak.” 

He approaches the diagram, setting your body down in the middle. “That’s because I haven’t revealed my true potential yet!” He struck the back of your head hard on the floor, causing your vision to go bleak for a moment. “Do you really need to do all of that?” You grumble, rubbing the back of your tender head. “I do what I please.” He mumbles to himself, rolling over on your stomach. 

Standing in his spot, Stan locked hands with Ford and Soos. “It’s most likely going to feel weird! Stick it through and don’t, I repeat, don’t let go!” A blinding blue light shoots up from the middle and travels through the lines of the diagram, illuminating the place in a bright blue light. 

“No!’ Bill writhed around. He could feel himself slipping away. Your forehead makes direct contact with a rock. He smiles at it, knocking your head against it again. “Oh, Billy! You are just full of ideas today.” He whispered, shuffling over to the stone to the point where he was hovering over it. He laid your head down, feeling the cold stone press against the middle of your forehead. Breathing in through clenched teeth, he raised your head up high. He nailed your head down on the rock, splitting through skin. You could feel the ghost touch of blood trickle down your forehead. 

He laughed crazily as he continued to bash your head onto the rock. With each blow, the rock was painted with more and more blood. He was going to kill you at this rate. Bill lowered his head back down on the rock and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t going to see Bill crack your head open. But the blistering pain never registered, peeking your eyes open you saw Stan had caught your head in his hand. 

Ford yelled out Stan’s name but Stan ignored it. His chest rapidly heaved in and out as he fell to his knees, resting your dazed head on his lap. You had noticed that Bill was slipping out of your physical form. Darting over to him, you grabbed his hand and ripped him out. Before you could hear Bill’s flurry of cries, you dove right in, repossessing your body once again and hopefully for the last time. 

Grumbled groans escaped you as you regained all your senses. You jolted up in striking pain. Everything hurt, even more than the last you took over. Your stomach rumbled, a flood of whatever liquid shot up into your mouth. You leaned to the side, expelling the fluid. Peeling open your weary eyes, you felt yourself grow nauseous at the pool of blood in front of you. “[Name]!” Stan grabbed your face, directing it toward him. He looked at your eyes and a look of relief settled on his face. “Dad?” You groggily said, your whole world spinning. “Are you okay? Is that demon gone? Where is he?” The massive load of questions made you want to vomit all over again. 

I’m still here! Bill’s grating voice grinding against your brain. You crumble under Stan’s hold, your head thumping in pain “No. He’s still in my head.” You felt another rush of blood clamor up into your mouth. You meekly shove Stan’s hands away from your face, hurling another dump of blood. Cautious voices sounded all around you, your vision distorting in a blurry mess. “Dad?” You forcefully focused your eyes on Stan’s face. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Talking was enough to strip you away from all the energy you had left and you weren’t sure you had enough time to say anything else before Bill took over again. 

“I know, baby. I know. We’re goin’ to get help, stay with me. Please.” Stan said something to Ford you couldn’t quite catch.

You felt his arms wrap around you and lay you down back on his lap. I’m going to kill you. You scratched at your aching head. “His voice hurts. Hearing it hurts so much.” You murmured, feeling a hand run down your arm up and down soothingly. “Stay strong for me, sweetheart.” A light kiss was pressed on your forehead. 

You cried out, feeling yourself being pulled away. 

“Stanley! Come back now!” You could make out Ford’s scream at Stan. The world was fading before you and you couldn’t help but break down as you heard Bill cackle in your head. Stan saw your eyes flicker to yellow and he delicately placed you down on the floor, running back to his spot. Bill seamlessly takes over, blinking himself awake as he’s shuffling your body up to your knees.

“This is all your fault, Stanley Pines. [Name]’s death will be on your hands!” He bellows, purposely allowing your voice to break through. The strenuous action causes him to tremble forward, blood splattering on the grass. Bill started yelling nonsensical blabbers, anything that would make Stan budge from his spot, to stop the whole process but he stayed put, directly staring Bill down. Bill fell to the side, coughing up bile and a random assortment of fluids. 

In a flash of blue, you feel yourself fully grounded back into your body. A feeling you feel like you haven’t felt in forever. 

A grinding yell echoed in your head. You are so disgustingly weak! Bill screamed in your head. Another splitting headache bore into your head but all you could do is lay there and take it in, feeling so worn-out and droopy that you weren’t able to physically react. I didn’t do much and you’re dying! I did all of this for nothing, for nothing! And it is all your fault! I should’ve broken every single bone in your body and twisted your neck. At least I would’ve gained something from that! You are so useless! 

He was wreaking havoc in your mind. The blinding pain subsided to a lingering pain, black dots swarming your vision. He seems to be doing last minute damage before he’s left with no other choice but to leave your body. With a rugged distorted babble from Bill, your whole world went dark. 

The waiting room was cold, so numbingly cold. Stan casted his gaze down to his hands. Your blood had stained them. He couldn’t tell if it was the blood from your forehead, or the blood you vomited out. But your own blood had been smeared all over him and it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t erase the image of your cold limp body laying on the grass, face covered in streaks of blood. This was all his fault. If he had just told you how things were from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You would’ve been next to him, chattering his ear off about something irrelevant while asking him multiple times if he was listening to you. Despite his thoughts, your soothing presence wasn’t there to console his mourning heart. 

Your doctor had came in earlier to share the state that your body was in. Everyone listened intently to her words as she described the damage that Bill had caused to your body. She said doctors were so mortified with your condition, labeling it as one they have never seen before with how many injuries you sustained on the outside and inside. Stan and Ford had to dodge some questions that had the doctor fired at them, excusing your evenstive wounds with a slip off a mountain, silly teenage activities that almost cost you your own life. She didn’t buy it. 

The doctor's slight graphic description of your injuries only cemented the guilt deeper into Stan. He was a bad father wasn’t it? The only thing he prided himself in for doing right was so easily taken away from him in a blink of an eye. He really was a screw up. Ford and his Dad were right. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s hand on his shoulder withdrew him from his thoughts. “We need to go home. It’s late.” He looks briefly to the seat next to him. The twins had sat on the same seat, their muddled expressions were no longer on their face, instead they were sleeping peacefully, heads leaning against each other. “The twins are asleep.” He tells him. Stan’s gaze glued on his tainted hands. “I’m staying here.” He weakly said. “You need sleep, Stanley.” 

“I can sleep here, Ford.” He snapped, expression tight. “They are going to kick you out.” 

Stan shrugged, clasping his hands together. “Then they’d hafta kick me out then.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” 

Stan leaned his head back against the wall, huffing out. “I’m not in any mood to fight with you here.” Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his burning eyes. “I’m staying here and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.” He placed his glasses on his lap and crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he shifted around to get comfortable enough to sleep. “Always been so stubborn.” Ford shook his head, getting up from the seat with a light groan. “I’m leaving.” He picks up the slumbering twins, being extra careful to not jostle them around and wake them. Stan grumbled in response, hearing Ford’s footsteps fade away in the distance. 

Stan doesn’t know how long it’s been, all he knows is that he had fallen asleep with the way his neck was sore. “Sir?” A voice broke through his drowsiness. “Sir?” They call out again. “Hm, wha?” Stan peeled open his eyes, the glaring hospital lights momentarily blinded him. Covering his eyes with his palm, he squinted at the lady in front of him. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re closing up for the night, sir. I need you to leave.” She calmly said, offering a soft smile to Stan. “But my kid, they’re in here. I need to be here if anything happens.” He scrambles to put his glasses on. “I assure you sir, whoever your kid is, will be fine. We will keep a lookout if anything happens.” 

“How are you guys goin’ to keep a lookout when you’re all home sleeping away like there isn’t people dying in here!” Stan argued. “Now's not the time, sir. I need you to leave or you’d be personally escorted out by the guards.” Stan sighed, standing up from his chair. “You don’t have to do all that.” He mutters, cracking his back before walking out. Walking out into the summer night, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

11 P.M. it read. It looked like the doctors allowed him to stay overtime. Usually they’d kick people out of the waiting rooms by around 9 P.M.

His eyes freeze at the baby picture of you on his lockscreen. The photo was taken on your fourth birthday. Stan had gone all out, as he always did, and got you a little birthday hat, little cupcake with a candle that had your age on it, and a mess of confetti and other birthday assortments. You had such a large smile on your face as you were mid bite into your cupcake. He remembered the day so vividly as if it happened yesterday. He clenched his phone tightly, tears flooding his vision. Why did it have to be you? Running his arm roughly over his eyes, he sniffed. He shoved his phone back into his pockets and started walking back to the shack. 

Ford found himself being startled awake by a knock on the door. Sluggishly getting up from the couch, he walked over to the gift shop entrance. He opened the door to be pleasantly surprised to see Stan. He stepped aside, letting Stan walk in. “Kicked you out?” 

“Yup.” Stan accentuating the ‘p’.

“Told you.” 

A quick moment of silence takes over before Stan breaks it. “Is this all my fault?” 

“You were just trying to protect them.” Ford walks over to Stan, shoving his hands under his armpits. “Look where that got ‘em.” Stan cracked his thumb, whispering something to himself before timidly looking at Ford. “Do ya think you can stay with me tonight?” He sheepishly scratches his cheek. “I don’t think I can trust myself bein’ alone or whatever.” 

Ford earnestly smiled at him. “I don’t mind.” Stan nods. “You sleep on the floor though.” 

Stan’s phone loudly rattled on his nightstand, his ringtone noisily blaring its song. “Turn it off!” Ford cried out, folding his pillow over his head. Stan arose from his abundance of blankets and grabbed his phone, dragging it off the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the blurry text. Stan reached out for his glasses, shoving them on his face and directing his eyes back on the screen. The word hospital flashed on his face. 

“It’s the hospital!” He swiped his finger, answering the call. He put his phone to his ear and anxiously waited. “Stanley Pines?” A snotty voice spoke from the phone. “Yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes, yes. That’s me. Why’re you callin’?” 

“[Name] has woken up and…” Stan had blocked everything else she said and shut up from the bed. “They’re awake!” He announced, shedding off his blankets and launching off his bed, accidentally stepping on Ford in the process. The whole morning was spent dashing around the house, vigorously getting dressed and making sure everyone was ready to head over to the hospital. After Ford’s triple check, they all clamored inside in the car and drove to the hospital. 

Stan burst into your room, his eyes locking with your bandaged form. “Dad!” You weakly called out, a shaky smile on your face. “Pumpkin!” He sighed out, relieved at seeing your beautiful smile. He wraps you in his arms, burying his face into your hair as he sobs. “I thought..I thought–!” He blubbers out. More welcoming arms wrap around you, wailing wracking through the air. “[Name]!!” Mable dragged out. “Don’t scare us like that ever again.” Dipper sniffed, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears. “Welcome back, kid.” Ford plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I’m here guys, you don’t have to worry so much.” You laugh, Stan wiping your tears with his thumb. “How can we not? We almost lost you, pumpkin.” After a tearful reunion, everyone stepped back, allowing you to breathe. They only gave you a few more minutes to yourself before they bombarded you with apologies. Mable and Dipper were stuck to your side, each of them giving you their own version of puppy eyes. Mable was more into it than Dipper, but you still accepted their apologies with a big hug.

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have been honest from the get go.” You took Stan’s hand, patting it like you would a dog. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgave you long ago. I should have followed what Ford said and calmed down.” You slightly glare at Ford. “Though, I didn’t like how he said it to me at the same time, so maybe I am justified in my anger?” 

“Ford doesn’t know how to talk. What’s new?” Stan knocked his shoulder with Ford who rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m the butt of the joke. As always.” 

“If it isn’t you! Then it would be Dipper,” Mable pokes at him. “But me and Grunkle Stan told all the jokes possible so it isn’t as funny as making fun of you, Grunkle Ford! You’re so nerdy and losery, more than Dipper. And that isn’t a good thing.” 

A crackly laugh leaves Stan. “Thanks for explaining, dear.” Ford said with a strain, his smile wavering. “Someone one upped you, Dipper.” You chuckle. “I don’t know if I should revel in it or feel sad for Ford.” Dipper tapped his finger on his chin. “Don’t overthink it, dude.” You flick his forehead. 

“And Grunkle Ford, where is your apology?” Mable raised her chin up high, doing her best attempt of a haughty queen looking down at her jester. Ford scoffs, “I’m so sorry, your humble majesty.” Dipping his head low to mimic a bow. 

“Oh?” You and Mable share a bewildered expression. “I wasn’t expecting him to actually do it.” You look over to Dipper who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. “I don’t like what’s going on here.” 

“Wait, are you going to have a cool scar on your forehead now?” Mable questions, pointing at your bandaged forehead. Bumbling conversation fills the air, laughter occasionally humming here and there. In the end, they all had to leave for your routine check up by the doctors. Stan was the last one to bid goodbye to you. Kissing your forehead, he held onto your hand, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I love you so much, kiddo. If I had lost you back there, I dunno what would have happened to me.” He caresses his thumb against your hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dad. I’m here, that’s what counts.” 

You share a long hug together, with a few tears being shed.

“I know, I know.” Giving you one last kiss and embrace, he waves you goodbye. 

“I love you!” 

“I love you more, Dad!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed :3

[sillygoosealert]

I was so hurt after (https://www.tumblr.com/sillygoosealert/757389587337412608/stuipid-fucking-slut-i-hate-you) 🥹🥹, can you do a part two where reader goes missing after he left her but found unconscious/dead because of a reason (you could come up with one! :D)

AND ALSO, UR WRITING IS SOO GOOD, +1 FOLLOWER >.<

-🍞 anon (I will try giving you good requests >:)

I promise I won't kill myself, death is not my last resort

haiiii :3 so I'm making this part two but honestly, I might end up deleting both of the stories because I was in a bad place when I wrote that 😓 also..besides the other anon's rotting in my inbox until I respond..ur my first anon !! yippy !!

Implied Rape. You die, talks of being unsafe and how it feels to be assaulted

Love is a gentle thing, as is the innocence you once had.

It wasn't a gradual fruition to see that being a woman would change the reality of everything for you. They warned you to steer clear of dark spots and secluded areas and always be aware. The things events that were organized and reenacted are nothing short of gender-based violence.

You understood why you and many others were constantly warned, but experiencing it was so different and vile, something you should never have gone through.

Today almost didn't end with you dead, but you didn't listen to the one thing that was looking out for you- you. That day, your gut instinct felt something was awry.

The morning was fine. You got a quick kiss on Sukuna's cheek before running off to your garden work.

The garden is split into sections. Working in them isn't an issue- except the one furthest from the estate. It's where you are most likely to get harassed by other servants as it is where most people turn a blind eye to.

Your body physically would not go near it today, you just couldn't.

Maybe it's the black crow you saw out of the corner of your eye or the sinking feeling you got whenever you looked over in its direction, but you couldn't shake the uncanny feeling it was giving you.

But as a mouse gets caught in a mouse trap, you are lured into the back part of the garden when something that resembles a doe is staring right at you. Not wanting to pass up the chance to see something so pure so up close, you walk to it.

But as you walk towards the feeble deer, and it walks further and further into the now forest, you question if you really saw anything at all.

When the doe is no longer in sight, you think about how you got here. Is it too late to turn back? I don't want this anymore.

You don't get the chance to turn back, as a pair of hands are roughly groping you from behind.

What happened in the woods wasn't your fault. You were lured to the spot in the first place. Then, when you wanted out, the exit was no longer there.

It wasn't your fault.

When you don't show up to clean the garden, that one thing.

But your body was found before dinner, where the forest meets the garden, disrespected in horrendous ways.

When you mentioned the concern that you were being targeted by other peers, he recognized the validity of your perspective.

He knew you were being harassed, but to accept it was something he couldn't do.

It would mean several things to take action - the most significant being that you had a major influence on how he chose to address the situation.

The other is over half of the people working for him would be slaughtered if he honestly wanted you safe. That type of fear egged him on usually, with him being your savior at the end of the day.

Knowing the nature of these situations, something would have to be addressed sooner or later.

He was scared indigo at the thought of making that type of commitment to someone, but he wanted to for you.

The thought of death didn't scare him. He would tell death himself he wasn't afraid to die. However, the idea of you being beaten nearly to death, only to bleed out and perish, shook him to his core. This was something no amount of strength or intimidation could undo.

He doesn't find out about...your passing until he requests to see you after dinner.

The feeling that washes over him is indifferent, he doesn't know what he wants anymore, but he knows that he wants you back.

He will never know how the world could keep spinning after you were ripped away from his grasp, it should have been the end of the world.

You didn't want to die, you shouldn't have died.

That shouldn't have happened to you, you didn't deserve it.

Death is a pathic escape, I will not kill myself- not for my loved ones, but for me.

Songs referenced: Velvet Ring, The End of The World, N64, My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars, Crack Baby, Anything.

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love - Part 3

AN: Hey, can I be sappy with y'all a moment? When I first started this story, I was admittedly pretty proud of what I came up with but I never anticipated the amount of love it would receive, so thank you everyone! <3 I also thank you for your patience, you have all been great 😋 With that said, I now bestow the conclusion to this renegade of emotion

Part 1 - Part 2

Donatello x Reader

Pathetic. That’s the one word that keeps ringing in your ears like echoes of a bug-infested cavern, the erratic scuttling serving loudly as your reminder. In no respect towards yourself, you are. All you have done since Casey escorted you back home is wallow in bed, tossing around the agonising reprieve that you are a love-strung puppy awaiting its next pat on the head. That’s why you’ve kept texting Donnie to a minimum; cut yourself off from the source and deal with the withdrawal symptoms. Doing this has you riddled with guilt but what else are you meant to do? Everybody loves somebody, right? But you don’t want to love anybody if it isn’t him. Perceivably dramatic, yes. After all, he is still a valued friend. Currently, the way you see it, it’s best to let yourself get over this puppy-dog sickness before that friendship can continue. Again, dramatic but the only logical option with April so tantalisingly strung in the picture.

Living a life of solitude hasn’t been all bad. For starters, you’ve been able to rest your ankle. Walking on it is still a fair challenge but it’s much more manageable than it was before. These past couple of days have also given you amble opportunity to reflect, as it were. It’s kind of easy to understand why one would fall for the resident bad boy in High School but a mutant turtle living in the sewers? No disrespect to Donnie, of course, but you’re just surprised. You don’t even think about all of that when you think of him. All that comes to mind is the heavenly warmth of his eyes; the soft care in them when you would help him out in the lab or when he’d be tending to one of your bumps. Euphoria’s temptress beckons you in once more in its rose-tinted glaze as you fantasise about some superfluous daydream involving him. The sweet melodies enrapture you in this cosy bubble as you curl up in bed but the sharp force of reality is swift and knocks you down before a peak is seized.

Perhaps trying to get over this infatuation isn’t quite going as planned. Groaning out into the open air, you throw a pillow into your face and continue your muffled whining. This is so unfair. Why can’t he be the one that you don’t want? You just can’t seem to escape the fact that you need him. In your state of disarray, you’ve even tried to figure out how to become the one that he thinks about. To try and curate him into being the other half of what you’ve never had. Closeness. A deeply set solitude that seemed so alien to you before you started hanging out with him. Time is slipping at this point. You swear you must be going crazy because of it. There have been a couple of nights when you swear something - someone - has been lingering outside your bedroom. Yet, when you get up to check, there’s nothing there. Part of you hopes that it’s your long-awaited love checking up on you whilst the other screams that you have indeed lost your mind. 

As it would turn out, you’re not as deluded as you might think yourself to be. Indeed, Donatello has tried many a time to meet you in person but to no avail. Many times he has attempted to knock on your window only for his courage to crawl back into the ground and, alas, he does the same by retreating to his home in the sewers. What is he meant to do? You hardly message him if at all these days. Considering the state of injuries you’d endure, he’s worried about you. He has every right to be worried about you. What more could happen to you whilst unsupervised? He doesn’t want to be overly protective but he has valid grounds for such concern. His only assurance that you’re alright is when he sees your shadow through your curtain at night but that isn’t enough. Of course, it isn’t enough. He wants to care for you and cater to your every need and undying whim. 

If only words could do him justice in articulating how he feels about you but he has never been so eloquently spoken unless it’s with regards to the sciences. He’s yours but you’re not his. He just wants you to be with him. If he had to - if he could - he would take the light out of the stars to help you see that. Anything for you to understand just how much he loves you. These spats of poetry are easy enough to site to himself but he knows he would tumble the moment he does as much as even consider reciting such lullabies to you.

Donnie leans over his desk, head in his hands, and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time this day, ever thankful that the streets have been quieter than usual. It’s not as though he can focus on much of anything. All surfaces of his brain have been overtaken and overruled by the thought of you. At this point, he doesn’t even care if nothing happens between the two of you. More so than anything, he just wants you back in the lair. It doesn’t matter if you’ll never be more than friends, he misses his lab partner. It isn’t as though he’s been particularly subtle in his grovelling, either. Figuring out that he had a crush on April was a no-brainer but this has been much more obvious and much more detrimental. His brothers can’t seem to get him out of this funk as much as they may try. Day in and day out, it’s the same thing: Donatello sulking in his lab, staring off into space and pretending to look busy on one of his gadgets. Desperate times call for desperate measures and if he needs a smack up the head, there’s only one person for the job. 

“Come on, Donnie, when are you gonna stop beating yourself up over this?” Raph asks, palming at the desk and resting his body weight against it. 

“Oh, yes, because I stand so much of a chance with (Y/n),” his brother remarks sarcastically. 

The shorter of the two shifts his attention elsewhere, lips turning to the side shamefully. He never wants to feel bad about poking fun or laying out the hard truths of their shared situation being mutants. The bitter contempt within his brother's voice is fair given the fits of teasing in concordance with the cold facts that mutants and humans can’t be. In hindsight, he and his brothers could have treated the situation with more care. Still, as brash as he can be, Raph hates to see a family member suffering as such. Whilst his methods aren’t all conventional, sometimes it’s necessary. 

Raphael huffs and rolls his eyes. “You know what you need?”

“For you to go away?”

“No,” he responds quickly, stifling the annoyance beneath bated breath, “what you need is to get your head out of this storm cloud. Sitting around and moping all day isn’t gonna change anything. So what if you don’t stand a chance? You won’t know until you try.”

“Thank you, Raphael, your input is valuable as always,” Donnie scorns rudely once more and exhales heavily. “I think I just want to be left alone.”

As heartbreaking as it is, such a wish can be respected, especially by the turtle that frequents isolated periods when he’s in a bad mood. Raph takes his leave and reconvenes with Casey for their night of watch duty. They sit atop an apartment roof, scathing the barren area for trouble that never seems to come. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before the main matter at hand becomes the point of conversation. 

“He just needs to take action,” Raph claims as he smacks a fist down into his palm. “I know we haven’t exactly been supportive but it’s eating him up. The sooner he gets it over with, the sooner he can be done with the whole thing.”

Casey’s cheeks puff up into his hands and he frowns, only for a wry grin to quickly take his lips. “Or, he just needs the expert to give him a helping hand.”

“Oh? You’ve changed your tune.”

“Hey, as long as he isn’t trying it on with Red, I’m all good.” Jones shrugs and pulls out his phone. “Now, watch a pro at work.”

Just a few blocks down from our duo lies your rotting form within the confines of your bedroom. It feels as though the space has somehow gotten smaller these last few days. You’ve chosen to spread eagle on the floor seeing as the bed has suddenly become uncomfortable, too. Rolling onto your side, you grab your phone and flick through your music, every song you pass turning out to either be a love song or something somber. Thanks, fate. Turning out to be a great ally here. You scroll a little longer in search of a distraction when a notification takes your attention. 

Hockey Junkie: Hows the ankle treatin ya, everyone in the lair misses u

It hasn’t been uncommon for any of the gang to message you but Casey being somewhat sentimental isn’t inherently natural. You suppose it was only a matter of time. You have been quiet for a short while now. If this has been good for anything, at least you know your friends care about you. It’s only fair that you halt your pitiful oath of silence. 

Nerd’s Assistant: I can walk on it fine but I might give it another day or two just to be sure Hockey Junkie: Playing safe, gotcha Hockey Junkie: Forget that crap tho, get your butt down here, the guys think ur dead

You huff a laugh to yourself and rest your weary head against your folded arm as you roll onto your stomach. In truth, you could have returned to the lair a couple of days ago but that sinking sensation sullies your stomach any time you contemplate the idea. All the more reason to stick to this seclusion. Without knowing what to say, you put your phone down and sigh into the carpet. The sweet melodies from your speaker are almost all-encompassing until your phone dings again. Then, again and for a third time before you decide to take a look.

Hockey Junkie: Look lemme be real with you Hockey Junkie: Gap tooth aint doing so hot right now Hockey Junkie: Can you at least give him a visit? Do it for your favorite classmate yeh?

The last cocky comment goes amiss with the main picture here. What’s wrong with Donnie and what has it got to do with you? All you can think on the matter is that he misses having someone to vent about April to. No, that isn’t fair to him. There’s more to him than just being madly infatuated with her. He’s a beautiful person of vision, albeit a little on the awkward side but that just makes him all the more adorable. Seeing as you haven’t replied to a lot of his texts, he must be bloated with a bad conscience. That must be what Casey is getting at. It takes some effort but you convince yourself that Donatello indeed misses his friendly assistant and that it’s high time you make a move. There goes your vow of distancing yourself. Goodbye, vegetative bed rotting.

Walking to the lair after so much time would be alien was the route not learned via muscle memory. There’s still an unsettling energy that becomes all the more poignant with every step you take but you’re putting that down to your nerves. You should probably text first; let him know that you’re coming but you’ve already made it to the large doors of his laboratory. As your fingers trace over the smooth metal, you think about the day that started this all - the day that would mark a start to something so unexpected that it almost doesn’t seem real. This is real. The alarming beat in your chest is all too loud for it to be a dream. It’s now or never. Taking a deep breath, you knock and pull one of the doors to the side, revealing the beaten-down turtle surrounded by unfinished projects and forgotten inventions alike.  

He slumps further and throws a hand up loosely. “I know you’re trying to help but I already said-” He stops speaking when he turns around and sees it’s you. 

You wave awkwardly with a just as clumsy smile to greet him. He springs up to his feet and bounds towards you, going in for a hug, only to stop himself just a few steps in front of you. That’s too much too soon. Your arrival is just so unexpected but by no means is it unwelcome. Many questions. There’s a lot he wants to ask and much more that he wants to say, like how much he’s missed you, how concerned he’s been, or please, never do that again. 

Instead, he says the only thing he can rationally think to, “How is the, uh, ankle doing?”

“Much better. Some positions still hurt but…” You do a little spin on the spot to demonstrate how much you’ve healed, laughing shortly. “... I can walk now at least.”

Donnie laughs as well, glad for that much. “So, no more injuries I need to worry about?” he asks playfully with raised brows. 

“Nah~” you resound melodically, winking with a waggishness. “Sorry to disappoint, Doc.”

Not a disappointment at all. Knowing you’re in good health, at least physically, is a huge relief. Between the shared chortling and the all-together prospect of dismantling the initial awkwardness, it’s great to have you back. It’s good to be back and you’re inwardly scolding yourself for depriving yourself of pleasant company. An aching heart can make you do stupid things and you’re about to realise just how stupid going quiet was. Donatello rubs the back of his head and seems to look everywhere but at you. 

“So how come you never messaged?” he asks slowly. “I got worried.”

There’s the guilt you had expected but you didn’t realise it would be so gut-wrenching. He’s trying to mitigate how hurt he was but it’s clear as day on his face. You contemplate reaching for him as extra consolation, finger flickering towards his. Instead, hold onto your forearm and tilt your head shamefully.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to worry anyone, especially not you. Just needed some time to myself, I think. You know, reflect on stuff.” Ah, he thinks to himself, Casey stuff no doubt. You blow off a cackle and shrug. “Without sounding like a complete pessimist, I think it’ll be easier to accept that no one could ever fall for me.”

You play it off as a joke - for the most part, that’s how you meant it - but he isn’t having that for a second. His hands jolt for your shoulders unexpectedly. Nothing follows and your wide eyes blink furiously with the abrupt action. 

“Donnie?”

Still, nothing. Gaze turned downwards, he just holds your shoulders, as though he’s thinking long and hard about something. He is. He’s thinking so very hard about this. Even the risk of making a fool of himself can’t scare him out of doing it now. There’s only so long he can carefully tread on this ice before it eventually breaks beneath him and swallows him whole. One might argue that’s not as bad as flat-out rejection but he doesn’t care anymore. It’s time to put those words to the test. 

He breathes deeply to collect himself, to avoid falling into a blubbering mess, and closes his eyes before getting straight to the point. “I know I could never stand any chance with you, as much as I like to pretend that I do, but I’d like it to be known at least. Even if you could never feel the same way, just know that you are loved - that you’re worth loving - and that… I’m in love with you. Don’t ever say stuff like that because it’s not true.”

All you can do is stare. Had he kept his eyes open, he would have witnessed your face shift into every conceivable expression whilst you tried to unpack what had just been said. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Both could be an option were you not so stunned to the point of near incapacitation. The lack of response is jarring yet still, he can’t bring himself to look at you. 

“Oh my God,” you suddenly wheeze under a whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, you’ll surely burst into tears. “Are you for real?” Confused, he goes to answer but you continue. “Donnie,” you breathe more weakly, “I have been hopelessly in love with you for weeks and now I’m hearing that you feel the same? In all this time where I’ve been in my own head. I just thought that- with April-” You cut yourself off and step back, jerking your shoulders away from his clutch. “No. There’s no way. This isn’t funny, Donnie. Just stop.”

There’s a brief period of chronostasis - a beautiful phenomenon in which time stills and he has the space to reflect on what has just sputtered from your mouth. He almost can’t believe it and, it seems, you can’t believe his own words either. He wants to jump with joy, spring with glee, and throw it in his brothers’ faces for ever doubting such circumstances. The overconfidence can wait. At this moment, it’s just the two of you with this air of reconciliation, though dampened by doubt. Your doubt. 

He holds a hand out to you only for it to clasp into a soft fist. It would be easy to act on the defensive but that wouldn’t amount to anything. If it’s evidence you seek, so he shall provide. He walks over to his desk and retrieves a small box - the same box that you had snooped on the other week, the one containing the quaint, little bracelet that is surely meant for April. That’s what you assumed, which is why your heart clenches tightly. He carefully takes it out of its packaging and fawns over it in a moment of vulnerability. You’re awaiting words of inclination towards the redhead but he remains silent. A green thumb skips over the turtle charm and Donatello outstretches his other hand to you. Wearily, you oblige and bestow yours to him. He cups the back of your hand and turns it over so that he may place the delicate-looking jewellery in your palm, making sure the charm is turned up on its backside. You frown at his peculiar behaviour, only to realise that something is inscribed on the turtle’s underbelly: your initials. 

When it all comes to light, your head turns up to meet him again. He’s glanced away shyly but there’s an awkward smile on his lips. One would think that this shared admittance is something to be celebrated with a fantastical display but it feels much too surreal. You have this horrible vision of waking up in your room, finding this to be another one of your crazed dreams. When he finally meets your stare, those fears vanish. Wild imagination or not, you could never replicate that warm glow of those maroon eyes. Even thoughts of being embarrassed about the tears in your own couldn’t ruin this moment. You fawn over the little bracelet again and shimmy it onto your wrist. The exchange is silent but there’s an ambient comfort: an unfamiliar familiarness that paves way between the two of you and closes the gap you’ve both been aching to be rid of. Neither of you is well-equipped with your words, so this alteration best suits the moment. Everything that has come to be may have been born from unrequited feelings for your friends but the birth place doesn’t matter. Value is held in each other’s happiness and simply loving one another unconditionally.

You lean up, lifting yourself on your good foot mostly, and kiss him on the cheek. His inelegant grin drops and you’re sure the tassels of his mask would have flickered up if they obtained sentient life. A primrose hue blossoms his face - one that you become well-acquainted with when he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead. With you both soaring ever higher, he pulls you into a long-awaited embrace, holding you close as your bodies transcend orbit and go off into the stars. 

Man, he sure does love being a turtle.

[psuedosugu]

You know something I've noticed? Yeah, Nifty is your typical yandere but can we talk about Vox? You technically don't even have to request him as a yandere unless you want it to be romanticized toward you and/or further explored because according to ALL of the recent regular Vox x readers (and the show itself), he clearly has many traits of one especially toward Alastor. He acts like a toxic, jealous ex 😂 He cyberstalks people for one, he's manipulative, insecure (this is where possessiveness and jealousy tends to stem from), doesn't take rejection well as we heard from Al, is capable of being obsessed with someone, and an overall control freak. He wants to keep the Vees' image and everything looking perfect. Imagine this guy being attached to you. An absolute nightmare. Never any privacy, eyes and ears everywhere, can teleport with or without a screen, blackmail is 100% on the table as well as other tactics, and constant validation for him whether your relationship is forced or not. What sucks about the last part is that it's a double-edged sword. If you fuel his ego, he's enabled but if you don't give him enough attention, he'll try harder and tighten his hold on you. So while Val absolutely horrible, it's like you can never win with Vox. Not when you don't have equal power and he's stated to be very strong. Especially these days, tech is an absolute must since even jobs heavily rely on it. Life and the afterlife here is much harder without a smartphone. He's literally a TV. He wants to be watched and noticed.

So he'll get it.

exactly brooo

cw: themes of manipulation, blackmail, and toxic, controlling relationships.

gender neutral

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

ੈ✧̣̇ || honestly atp he’s practically a canon yandere.

ੈ✧̣̇ || i kinda talked about this before but i feel like he would manipulate reader into thinking that they need him when its the other way around

ੈ✧̣̇ || as u said, he’s insecure as hell and he needs someone to boost his ego and make him look superior

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also needs some source of stability in his (after) life which is where you come in.

ੈ✧̣̇ || hed also never let things go or get over you.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he started beef with a dude that he hadn’t seen in 7 whole years, for gods sake 😭

ੈ✧̣̇ || bro will start fights over things that happened months ago and are over now done with

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also craves control, not only will he spy on you through your electronics but he’ll also try and control other things that he has no business controlling like what you wear, who you talk to, ect.

ੈ✧̣̇ || if you mention your concerns about it he’ll try and back off, but hes just so paranoid that something will happen to you even though he knows you’re capable of taking care of yourself.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he needs to feel like he’s needed.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also exerts his control by threatening you with blackmail, wether it be secrets that you told him or pictures.

ੈ✧̣̇ || not like you don’t have a fair amount of dirt on him too, though.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he’d definitely fight a bitch for you, if you’re getting threatened, stalked, and/or harassed by someone (that isnt him ofc) said person better prepare for his wrath.

ੈ✧̣̇ || hes a whiny ass bitch which is either annoying or hot depending on who you ask and what the context is.

ੈ✧̣̇ || its also kind of confusing how he acts, he’ll be practically ignoring you one second and begging for your attention the next.

ੈ✧̣̇ || another reason why he’s so scared of you leaving is because of how vulnerable he’s been to you.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he’s told you things that he’s never told anyone, shown parts of him that no one has ever seen, and the thought of what you could do with this info if you ever were to turn on him makes him feel sick to the stomach.

ੈ✧̣̇ || despite how it feels sometimes he really does care about and love you, he just has an unhealthy mindset when it comes to love.

ੈ✧̣̇ || perhaps you should stay around (not like u rlly have a choice), teach him how to love someone properly. you wont regret it :)

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

[popponn]

Hihi, im the same anon that loves ur page!!

the froggys are seriously silly :)

Anyways, can i request some hcs abt bllk boys with a reader who's going thru a depressive episode? im just goin thru stuff rn, if u can't its fine.

So, hows ur day been?

I hope you're well

have a great day! <33

byebye💖

notes: anonnie;;; i hope you are feeling better when you finally read this;;; this took so long, im sorry. i have been busy and there are lot of things going on, but i am fine thank you for asking :> and hey, a depressive episode could be tough. but you got this! okay? try to take it slow and step by step, drink water, eat food, and move around a bit. a light walk or a stretch is okay. like how the clouds always change, things will change. i hope reading this could give you a little happiness, especially when you need it.

isagi

if you are looking for someone who will listen and give practical advice without dismissing your feelings or concerns, honestly he is the one. especially as a boyfriend, you can trust him to be the one who will sit beside you on the sofa while wrapping you in the blanket. will ask you what you want to eat and the moment you decide to fight the cold hard life back, don’t worry, your isagi yoichi will be your #1 supporter! especially if you guys have spent more time in the relationship, he really is good at balancing giving comfort while still giving you trust to walk on your own. though he sometimes couldn’t 100% understand your point of view, but the sincerity in his effort to be always there for you is no joke. he promised every part of him he could give to you and he means every word of it.

bachira

who hurt his baby—he will fight it. somehow. he has this odd sixth sense when it comes to you. just with a glance, he will immediately get how down you feel and what you need. a joke and a cheer up along with many kisses? coming right up. a listener who will hug you like a koala? do you want to do that while cuddling in the bed or in public in front of his friends because he won’t hesitate honestly. just say what you want—if he must eat a cake messily like 5 year old to make you laugh then so be it. will get you out for recreation the moment he could and if he couldn’t that means it’s time for his creativity to shine (and boy does it always shine). but if the one that makes you feel down is someone, bachira is not one for violence but he could you know. if you want. (please stop him.)

rin

if you don’t cry, at best he will be an awkward listener—but a good listener nonetheless. if you cry, though, honestly he will panic. this guy is already not good with his own emotions, so you need to be clear about what you want with him. he is not the best with words though, and advice he offers is usually either “let me just fix this for you” or a straight up detached, objective one that is better offered to someone with a cool head and controlled emotion. therefore, more often than not, he opts to just listen and hold your hand. he will try to help, though, and if he can’t—at the very least you will get a really menacing guard dog who won’t let anyone mess with you while you are trying to get up. (also, go tell him to buy something. his credit card is ready and feeling like he is doing something for you is good for the both of you.)

sae

itoshi gene is harsh and he is somehow worse than his brother in this scenario. he is a naturally critical person towards anything. if you are ready to get your fault pointed out and think up a “what can i do to make this better or avoid this from happening again” go to him, but if you are looking for someone who will listen or give validation, as much as you love him, don’t. him and a terrible headspace is not a good combination. however, a direct “can you hug me?” or a “can you do something for me?” is not completely out of the question—he, after all, still cares about you. high chance he won’t ask, especially if you said you don’t want to say anything, but in this situation the softer part of him who has a hard time saying no to you truly comes out. a movie night, even if it involves the goddamned fries, would happen. he is smart enough to know when to spoil you, especially since he knows your habits and tendencies by heart.

kunigami

the sort of person who sees a hint of gloom on your face and immediately cradles it with a tenderness that no one would expect from someone with his build. he is a good, caring person by nature, if you are looking for someone to help you, he is the best choice. he can be clumsy sometimes and the words he gives to cheer you up have a high chance of being uttered with a lot of pauses in the middle—but the way he acts will probably be enough to bring a smile to your face again (and he will also smile along with you when this happen because by god you are his happiness). all those aside, high chance he can’t give advice, but he will give you top-notch cheering up—words, actions, cuddles, everything—along with genuine validation. (especially after wild card, he has seen hell. “feeling terrible” is something he understands a lot.)

kaiser

for this one i won’t sugarcoat it: jesus christ. why. is there no one else?

jokes aside, as i love to bully him a bit here, objectively—this really depends on the sort of type of person you are. if you are looking for advice or validation or a listener—not him. but if you are the sort of person who prefers a distraction or the “tough love” sort of motivation that is more scathing and heartless—borderline degrading—he is the one. out of spite, his words are probably enough to spur you into action, forgetting whatever blue feeling you have as it has turned into a red raging anger. however, a little note, believe it or not, this actually comes from a caring place in his heart. kaiser is someone with many, many harsh edges—and this comes more from “i rather see you angry and living than seeing you down without me being able to do anything” root that he rather die than say out loud.

nagi

the best you could get is a passive listener. worse you can get is a passive listener who still plays games. the worst you can get is that one scene where isagi has a legitimate concern and gets his hair pulled by this guy. another one who is better to have as a company in seeking distraction for the time than anything. but, despite how admittedly terrible he is in cheering you up with words, he truly makes it up by action when it finally hits him how down and different you are. it will take a few hours or a few days, but he will get there. afterward, expect many small sweet gestures ranging from cute gifts, your favorite snacks, et cetera. your chatroom with him will too suddenly get noisy with many cute stickers and “u ok? :x” for at least a few weeks. (also he is shameless enough to ask out loud to his teammates about what should he do with you when he realizes how stuck he is. so hey. there is that: possible extra brains if you need a solution.)

reo

common knowledge that he never shies away from using that money of his when he needs to and this is one of those situations where he genuinely considers taking you away for a trip so you can feel better near a sunny beach or a peaceful lake—you pick. if you don’t want that, however, this guy is still the best when it comes to understanding you and will be there until you give him a smile. what else do you expect from someone with a complete set of love languages? do watch out though, he is also someone who could get angry pretty quickly, especially when it involves something or someone he cares about—and this time it’s you. on a brighter note, though, this means if you are looking for someone to shit talk with, he is the one. he is a smart caring boyfriend, so talking with him during this time will do a lot of good to you. a good advice along with good validation.

bonus round:

barou — has this very awkward and unique way of cheering you up by getting you to clean the house along with him (and somehow he is less strict with you this time) and then cooking for you after; somehow always works like a charm. yukimiya — do you know all those shoujo manga perfect handsome famous sporty smart boyfriends? this is it. coming to you live. chigiri — shit-talking session that will soon move on to a pep talk that will give you every bit of confidence and drive you to need. a best friend and a boyfriend in one package. one of the people who truly knows and understands how despairing an overwhelming situation could be. karasu — will he tease you a bit like a meanie to distract you, ironically? yes. but if you need an advisor to brainstorm the best possible solution he is also the one.

[yesimwriting]

MA'M I LOVE YOUR BEST FRIEND FELIX WRITINGS BUT MY JEALOUS AND SOFTY SHORT ASS CAN'T HANDLE IT 😭 IM HURTING MYSELF BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD, LIKE IF I WAS BEST FRIEND Y/N ID BE BAWLING MY EYES OUT AFTER SEEING HIM WITH ANOTHER GIRL LIKE- WHY IS ALL OF THIS SO CARDIGAN BY TS CODED-

a/n i love taylor and taylor related angst and i get the jealousy thing,, but i think the thing with bestfriend!felix is that he's so obvious about his priorities that by the time reader can register jealousy,, felix is already there

so here's a drabble

----

Going out tonight wasn't your idea. A week of long lectures and even longer homework had drained you. But Felix wanted to...and you...You wanted to be around Felix.

Maybe Farleigh's comments about you following Felix around like a puppy aren't as exaggerated as they feel when you're sober. Ugh. The thought of Farleigh being right gives that pinch of irritation something to latch onto.

"They have those drinks you like." The voice is clear despite the base of the music that you can still hear from right outside the club. You turn your head away from the group of stragglers hanging around the outdoor bar. "Had. I got the last one."

You grin at Felix, any lingering angst not exactly evaporating into the cool night air, but the shift is enough to make the smile feel unforced. "Lucky."

He's finally within arm's reach, a fact that he takes advantage of immediately. Felix's palm settles against your shoulder, his thumb dragging across your skin. "Extremely." There's a fondness there that chips away at what's left of your irritation. "Here." You take the glass from him. "Sam almost tackled another bar tender to get the last of the simple syrup."

Ironically, the sip that's halfway down your throat seems to lose any hints of sweetness as soon as the words come out of Felix's mouth. You've met Sam, and while you don't dislike her, you're not sure the neutrality is mutual.

It's a fact you don't dwell. Sam's a bottle blonde bar tender who looks like she was born to walk around in low cut tank tops and cut off shorts. Not that her being pretty matters, but there's an edge to her beauty that implies an effortless coolness that doesn't usually meld with who you are. It's no one's fault. You think those types of girls are charming and fun in a way that's somehow even bolder than the friends that you consider wild. It's just never been a mutual admiration.

And Sam's been hanging around Felix a lot lately, showing up at parties, staying later than anyone else besides you. They've gone home together a few times. Felix hasn't said too much about that, but that doesn't indicate anything. You guys don't talk about that kind of stuff. Even best friends as close as you two have boundaries.

Not that it matters if Felix is with someone like Sam. She seems fun and pretty and bold and--the total opposite of you.

That hits you like a thumb jabbing into a bruise. Since when is Felix's constantly rotating door of flings a sore point? When he pawns you off on Farleigh--even when he's not in the mood for you--so he can have a moment in the employee bathroom.

"Y'okay?"

You nod, "Yeah." Felix's eyebrows pinch together, a barely there implication of concern that's almost ignorable beneath the poor lighting. "Everything's just kind of hitting me a little."

He nods, "Do you need to sit?" Felix's hold on your shoulder tightens. "Is that why you came outside?"

"Uh--no." The response feels flat. "I mean--yeah, I wanted some air, but I don't feel sick or anything."

He watches you openly for what feels like its own eternity. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you must not pass the inspection because he frowns. "Okay." As if to validate Felix's attempt at letting your mood go, you bring your glass back to your lips. "You know--if you're not feeling--if you want to go, you can tell me."

"I know." You do know that. Felix has always been good about listening, about wanting to make sure you're comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink. Of course Sam's good at mixing drinks. You can picture her tripping over herself, rushing to grab the nearly empty bottle of syrup and risking making an enemy of a coworker to avoid having to tell Felix no.

Felix takes a step forward, his hand sliding across your back so that his arm can settle around your shoulders. It's instinct to lean into the contact. He's warm in a way that rivals the buzz in your system. "When we do go, we're going to have to go out the back way."

You let your head rest against his side. "Why?"

"Don't think Sam's going to be going out of her way to get me drinks again."

You crane your neck to look up at him, "What? Why?"

His eyes meet yours, and then he's dropping his gaze to the floor. "You have become such a gossip."

A sound that's a combination between a scoff and a laugh tumbles past your lips. "Have not."

"You and Farleigh," Felix continues, "You two always need to ask, always need to have an opinion."

"Not true," you defend weakly, "If I was a gossip I'd talk about how slutty--"

You cut yourself off, regretting your phrasing as soon as the word is out. Felix pulls back slightly, mouth falling open in exaggerated offense. "You called me a slut?"

"No," you defend yourself through a laugh, "I was saying that you have been slutty." Felix raises his eyebrows at you. "It's different." Felix's eyes narrow in an attempt to offset the smile tugging at his lips. "It is."

"Yeah?" He leans forward with no warning, his lips pressing against your cheek. That kiss is followed by another. Again and again, each more affectionate and touchy than the last.

His lips brush against your jaw. "Fe-lix." It wants to be a warning, but the nervous giggle that breaks his name into two makes coming off as threatening impossible.

"What?" He hums, his lips finding your neck. "If I'm that slutty, we should have a go at it."

You laugh, ignoring the heat burning its way up your neck because it's just Felix. "There's a bathroom inside."

Felix stills before pulling away enough to look you in the eye. There's the faintest flush tinging his skin. You laugh again, this time the sound fuller. It's nice to see flashes of the softer side of Felix while out in the real world. Felix laughs with you.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "For you, I'd spring for a hotel room."

"Now I feel special."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[sirenium]

"I support trans people!" quick, are you normal about the concept of transandrophobia? Do you think it's just 'white men trying to be oppressed'? Do you brush it off as merely misdirected transmisogyny? Do you scoff at the struggles of trans men and go 'but trans women have it worse! talk to a trans woman and see how bad THEY have it!'?

Do you use a trans man's chest size as an excuse for constant misgendering? Do you hold transmasculine people to a standard of needing to be feminine so to not scare the women, but proceed to not take their gender seriously if they do perform femininity? Do you use your horribly veiled misandry as an excuse to make trans men feel unsafe in queer spaces?

Are you normal about AFAB transfems and AMAB transmascs? Intersex trans people? GNC trans people? Trans people who use xenogenders? Trans people who use it/its or other neopronouns? She/her transmascs and he/him transfems? Can you acknowledge that, sometimes, people are simultaneously transmasc and transfem? Do you accept transmasc women, transfem men, etc?

Do you invalidate the identities of trans women who have beards, or present 'masculinely'? Do you see them as predatory posers? Do you go out of your way to misgender trans women who happen to actually be predators, because 'clearly they were just men'? Do you shame trans women for exploring their sexuality?

Are autistic trans people not able to make decisions on their own transition, as far as you're concerned? Are our ways of expressing and seeing gender 'stupid' to you? Is the concept of autigender too 'insane' to you? Do you see our gender identities as simply jokes?

Can you survive being around a trans man lesbian or a veldian (link) trans woman? Can you support a multigender person who is both gay AND lesbian? Can you include transmasculine nonbinary people in your 'support' of nonbinary lesbians?

I've used the term 'conditional support' a few times, but it is very much conditional support if you explode over one trans person's identity, and then turn around and act all supportive of another's. If all it takes for you not to support a trans person is how they label their gender or sexuality, how they present, what their body looks like, etc, you are not supportive of trans people! Your 'support' is very limited and strict. You have one rigid idea of what trans people are 'supposed' to be, and anyone who deviates isn't valid or worthy, and that is NOT the kind of behavior an ally should exhibit. It is not the way you treat other trans people, and it is far from supportive.

[antiphilosophia]

Crowley's pre-fall name is BARAQIEL (THEORY)

THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OR RATHER CLUES FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 CONTENTS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 🤍

Very well. Who doesn't love the Crowley is the Archangel Raphael theory (I am certainly of those people who do). During my first watch of Good Omens S2 I was even somehow almost confident that that was the case.

However, my second, more careful, viewing of this lovely (but equally heartbreaking) season made me change my mind, likely for good. In episode 4, Furfur's book "Demon's Guide To Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth" shows us a name of a certain angel Baraqiel. (see photo below) Knowing Good Omens that can hardly be a coincidence.

Unfortunately, the very text is quite unreadable. One thing, other than the name, which is pretty clear is the subheading "Angel of the Sky" and since the episode 1 lets us take a look at how Crowley did indeed take part in creation of what is to be seen in the night sky, one can hardly find that entirely non-fitting. One other sentence I was (at least I think) able to read is "Often draped in red."

(On a different note but certainly worth noticing are scribbles that generally just roast Crowley – his suspiciousness, hair and name (though I am not absolutely sure of the latter) "His hair is bad!" Wow, Furfur really does hate Crowley.)

Then there is something written above the name of Baraqiel, unfortunately in none of the picture frames does it get a bit readable. I wonder though, couldn't it be "former"? Since it comes precisely after mention of Crowley to whom should one report on Aziraphale.

Crowley is very powerful. Dominion

A word that is not exactly readable but can be deduced from its placement (it is situated just as Aziraphale's "Principality") is Baraqiel's rank – Dominion Angel. It should be noted here that I very much lack proper knowledge of either Jewish or Christian mythology and I would hate to provide any incorrect claims. I therefore think it is better for me not to overly state things, even more so since everyone can look into it on their own and figure out what that might mean for our beloved demon. What I will say, however, is that they are (as I understand it) very powerful and, placed within the 2nd triad in the angel hierarchy, ranked higher than the Archangels. This would go well along with the emphasis that was in my opinion laid on Crowley's powers quite a lot this season.

For example: "A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed," said Shax to Crowley, to which he replied: "How'd you know I didn't do it?" He didn't get an answer.

What I think (and I may be very wrong, obviously) is that a miracle of this vastness wouldn't have happened simply because of a regular angel and a regular demon did together half a miracle each. What is also worth noticing is that the tool with which Crowley created the Nebula is the same as the one he used to temporarily stop time at the end of season 1 right before Satan's arrival. So much to the size of his powers.

Baraqiel, lightning of God. Fallen angel

Finally, to Baraqiel himself. My lack of knowledge concerning this matter still stands and frankly I don't even know where to find valid information about angels and such on the internet. Baraqiel should, however, stand for "lightning of God" and is also regarded as the angel of lightning. In season 2 there are (as far as I remember) two occasions where Crowley is put in correlation with lightning. (1) His poor anger management issues in episode 1 and (2) his not at all better matchmaking in episode 3 ("I haven't done weather in ages"). Furthermore, Baraqiel is considered to be the one who taught astrology to people. Nevertheless, what points to Crowley and Baraqiel being one even more is that Baraqiel is indeed a fallen angel.

•

So... That is probably it. I usually tent to theorize about stuff in quiet, in fact, this is the first time I've used Tumblr for anything other than reading Neil Gaiman's posts. I didn't even think that I would actually post it but then I've searched on Twitter, TikTok and here on Tumblr if anyone else has already come up with this theory. The only post I could find (hopefully I haven't missed anything) was by @valaza_04 on Twitter (click here) where they refer to the same frame shot as I do here.

Now I know, we are still recovering from heartbreaking (but if you ask me, absolutely amazing) finale and the main thing currently on our minds is figuring out why would Aziraphale choose as he did and the many wonderful theories that come with it. However, considering the utterly virulent look that Metatron shot at Crowley before walking out of the bookshop with Aziraphale and also his "Well, [Crowley] always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too." makes me think that he absolutely does not care for Crowley and whichever angel he was before the Fall. And I reckon it won't remain unnoticed in season 3 and might even be really important (or that is just me wishing for more pre-fall Crowley scenes). Hence I decided that I will post this. And it doesn't matter if no one will see this in the end, it was quite fun to write. However, if there is someone who will read this all the way through, I hope they will accept my apology for the mistakes I have most possibly made (English is not my first language) and also for the ridiculous length this post has come to gather. It turns out, I am just as chatty of a writer as I am speaker.

Well maybe I will come around to write one more post about this theory, only with a proper research this time. Till then thank you and, please, support this season by streaming as much as you can so we can have season 3 of this masterpiece of a show. And be kind to those bringing it to us in your comments regarding the ending, even though it is very frustrating and heart-shattering, it is also maybe the best ending we could have hoped for with the prospects of season 3.

Thank you for letting me talk my heart out, Tumblr.

[doberbutts]

Hey there! I hope you don't mind me asking this.

I remember you posting about how cis women say that men don't have to worry about going outside at night for example, and you brought up moc issues and how black men do have to deal with that. Which was a really good post and made me more aware of the topic.

Well so I keep seeing these posts (made by mostly white queer people) about how "cishet people don't have to worry about holding hands in public" / "opposite sex couples can legally marry anywhere" / etc, which doesn't really sit right with me? Cause interracial couples still face a lot of discrimination and are still actively being hurt. (same with disabled couples, but that's a different topic I think)

However every time I brought this up, people (mainly white queer people) would get mad at me. Saying how I'm changing the topic and how that didn't matter to the conversation.

I was wondering how you feel about this, cause I'm white (and also queer), and I'm not sure if my concern with these statements are valid. Personally I see a lot of poc voices are being ignored in the queer community, and statements aren't useful to make our point (besides being false).

Thanks for reading, please tell me if I'm being ignorant / should do more research on the topic. I'm more than willing to do so. Also don't feel any pressure to answer, I know you don't owe me your time to explain.

Another older ask and one I deliberately left until I had the ability to actually answer on a keyboard instead of on my phone.

The TLDR of this is effectively: this is why I prefer black feminism, which does in fact go into these nuances, to any sort of nonblack theory adopted by the larger feminist and queer communities (which is often white and does not address these problems, which was the point of that post tbh)

But it also goes into my point of how most oppression is neither unique nor is it new, it simply changes its face when applied to different demographics. Much of what we call misogyny is not limited to misogyny, much of what we call homophobia is not limited to homophobia, and so on. "Straight couples don't get disowned by their parents for getting married" well... my ex brother-in-law did because he brought home a black woman. "Straight couples can legally marry anywhere" well according to some sitting justices on the Supreme Court, potentially not for long if they're interracial couples, and while disabled couples can marry they lose all or most of their benefits the moment they do so... "No one beats up straight couples for holding hands" my guy not even going into oppression but you clearly have never been to middle school when a deeply unpopular kid has a crush or is in a relationship with someone who is significantly less unpopular than they are.

But again, this is why I don't find this type of theory to be grounded in reality, and thus why I tend to gravitate more towards theory that makes more sense to the experiences I've had.

[bairdthereader]

Julio Spring, let's have a chat.

I find this man hard to write about because sometimes he makes himself exactly what his son needs, and other times he's almost damagingly quiet. Without knowing too much about Julio's past (I think I've read everything Alice has written about him, but for the purposes of this post I'm going to focus mainly on what we know from the show), it can be hard to parse his motivations and actions. But one thing we know for sure is that Julio is deeply concerned for Charlie.

The most poignant scene between them is obviously when Julio hugs Charlie after Harry's party. He can sense immediately that something is wrong, very wrong, but has the intuition and sensitivity to push aside the intense curiosity he must be feeling about why, or the details of what happened, and addresses the most pressing issue--Charlie's need for comfort and support.

Though we never see it on screen, or even much in the books aside from some narrative flashbacks, this must be a tragically familiar scenario for Julio; after all, he's been through at least a year or more of dealing with the aftermath of the bullying Charlie experiences. How achingly difficult must it be for Julio to repeat "it's going to be okay" to his son when he knows there's a good chance it might not ever be truly okay. The trust that Charlie must have in Julio to allow himself to fall apart in front of him indicates that Julio must have handled those past crises with enough care to make Charlie see him as a safe space. [And we can't assume that Julio is safe for Charlie just because he's his father--Alice makes it clear in other storylines that safety with family is far, far from a given.]

Julio has gone through this enough times that, when it's time to drop Charlie off at the cinema, he's clearly torn between allowing Charlie the freedom he needs, and the space to make his own judgments about what he can handle, versus his parental desire to protect Charlie from harm. The fact that he gives Charlie that space earns him a lot of respect in my eyes.

Afterward, he can tell that the conversation between Charlie and Ben was an antagonistic one, and that his concerns were valid. There's nothing worse as a parent than anticipating hurt for your child and then having that fear come true. But Julio doesn't push, or dig for more. Maybe he should have, but those calls are always hard to make, and even harder to judge from the outside.

A lot of Julio's tender and caring moments happen in the first season, so it's hard to watch in season two when there are many scenes where Julio is so obviously upset, worried, or angry, and yet does nothing. Sometimes, admittedly, it's hard to know what to do, and that's valid, but we need him to try.

We need Julio, who understands Jane and where she's coming from at least a little better than Charlie does, to step in and mediate when she's clearly letting her own past and her parents' critical behavior impact how she's interacting with her son.

We need Julio to follow up on his concern, that niggling worry and doubt that he has, about Charlie not eating and isolating himself.

We need Julio to object when he witnesses Charlie engaging in negative self-talk, to bolster his son with words of support.

Julio Spring is a good dad who cares incredibly deeply for a son he can't always completely understand, but there's room for growth here too. I really hope we get to see that in season 3.

*And fear not, the infamous hanky panky conversation will get its own post.

[akutasoda]

hi!! It’s me again! Got an idea..how about reader who tries to act all tough but deep down just wants to be loved? They’re this way probably because some type of past trauma. Maybe not getting enough attention as a kid?

-🌀Anon !

you don't ever have to pretend

synopsis - behind your facade is someone that only your lover can know

includes - dazai, yosano, ranpo, akutagawa, ayatsuji

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, slight hints towards insecurity, wc - 696

a/n: helloo anon!!

osamu dazai ★↷

↪until you two started dating he didn't look much into it as that was your business and not his. but when you two became a thing he started thinking more about it.

↪he knew that it would have to come from somewhere but he didn't want to pry and instead just shower you in love and compliments.he can get very clingy. especially if you start feeling down.

↪if you ever let those walls down and show that more soft, exposed side of yourself he would be so proud of you for opening up about in your own time.

↪he has his own demons to fight against but you sharing yours with him means he can help you in any way you want. even if that means showering you in love and validating you for the simplest things.

akiko yosano ★↷

↪she would just think that you were tough going originally. until you became closer then she would start seeing slips in that facade but never mentioned it as she wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable.

↪that stayed that way when you two started dating as she knew that topics around that normally were sensitive and she trusted that you would know to tell her if it became an issue.

↪and if that ever did come around she would support you in the best way possible. she may be a doctor but i believe she has her fair share in helping mental issues as well as physical.

↪she would be a great listener and even help you work through it until that confidence was natural. she would never want you to feel down.

ranpo edogawa ★↷

↪wouldn't pry until you two started dating part 2. it was your facade and as long as that didn't affect you it was none of his concern about what it stemmed from.

↪but when you started dating he started paying attention to little slips in that facade and wanting to ask about it but just kept to himself. he knew when you were comfortable enough you would open up about it.

↪and eventually if you do tell him he would be over the moon that you tristed him that much. maybe a bit overbearing at first but he would quickly back off if it made you uncomfortable.

↪he would even look for ways to subtly encourage your confident facade to be natural and encourage you. the ever so prideful detective giving you compliments and encouragement left, right and center was a rare sight. but a welcome one at that.

ryunosuke akutagawa ★↷

↪absolutely wouldn't care about how you acted at first. you were just another person who acted tough. but as you two became closer i still think he would take long to realise its a facade ir he simply wouldn't show that he knew.

↪but saying that he probably would realise when you two became partners but again wouldn't pry. you clearly didn't tell him because it's a sensitive subject and therefore he respects that.

↪if eventually you did tell him he would be very good at listening but a bit awkward for comforting. he's trying his best! and that's all you really need. the little compliments or simply trying better to be more honest with his feelings.

↪just the little things he does to give you slightly more attention that you're both comfortable with.

yukito ayatsuji ★↷

↪wouldn't pry until you two started dating part 3. he respects the fact that you're not open with it, relationship or not. but in a relationship he would be simply more wanting to subtly try to fix it without being too overbearing.

↪and that would include doung stuff that looked both like him being a caring supportive partner and a subtle boost in his public affection. of course within your boundaries the last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable.

↪and eventually if you tell him why he would only offer his undying support. you had that before but it seemed to increase tenfold somehow. maybe even starrt leaving you little notes with supportive messages.

↪would be willing to talk about anything with you, being open and honest is a good thing if you're comfortable with it!

[zcinderone]

An ironically conspicuous yet never exploited(except by me as far as I can see) dot that connects everything which could be the ultimate layer of secret to unravel the true identity of Arei's murderer...

It's Levi and this is where the final piece of puzzle comes to make sense of itself: the Monotv recruiting Teruko do CAULKING scene!!!

This is such a detailed and prominant plot that so far made 0 sense as to its connection to the case. Monotv must have enlisted a helper to clean up the mess left in the gym. Since he can't even do caulking, it is 100% valid for the narrative that there are something in this mess he can't handle. This helper would have abundance of time to figure out the mechanism and took the tape. (whereas both Ace and Eden only had cursory glances at the scene also in a rather shocking and intense scenario to figure out how Nico's mystrious setup worked)

(Monotv specifically mentioning he needs help to do certain chores)

Apart from the 4 involved in Ace's case, the only one awake/available late at night was Levi(and we never know for what purpose the story writer specifically left only him awake and readily came out to check the commotion either). This connects everything.

Think about it rationally. It makes absolutely no sense for those involved in the previous case to make an imitation of their own. On paper, only 4 people knew what happened, and Nico ran off leaving the only necessary tool(tape) to replicate this. Should any of the 3 try to imitate a crime only they knew and able to replicate, they are basically yelling they're the only targets from the get-go (and isn't this what's happening right now?)which is beyond absurd. However, if a third party does exist, it changes everything, they would have everything to gain from pulling an imitation since the premise would exclude their possibility permanently.

Based on the aforementioned points, I will make a tentative prediction about one event we are likely gonna see in ep 15（or 16 depending on pacing）: A scrum debate will happen soon, concerning whether or not Ace&Eden really is the only option scope for imitation crime, for they will most certainly discuss the very reason why they imitate and promptly realized the absurdity thereof. The narrative would seem really off if they don't dabble on why, accepting imitation for the sake of imitation. Some will take the stance that such attempt would be illogical for a rational conspirator in the first place, others will insist on the lack of direct evidence of a third party.

(I just realized the dev could've intentionally let Ace kick the tape out of sight because they have much greater incentive to do so but it's very close to premiere so I won't elaborate since either way my theory itself is the same)I am basing this theory on the assumption that the tape went missing under the dialogue box cg is dev's mistake, because the tape on the ground scene always includes Ace on the ground and the moment he stood it changed which feels too abrupt and dev might just forgot to add that, and there is not a single scene that showed the tape missing without such blockade.

More importantly, there were some clues to back my assumption in the "i'm not fxxing dead!" scene. The tape is placed rather near in front of Ace, a little to our right. Yet, when he stood up he knocked Eden out to our left. It would seem shaky if we take this alone by face value as it could just be a dramatic effect, but what happened afterward is the camera itself clearly turned left to film Eden gradually standing, and turned right to focus on Ace and then turned further right to focus on Teruko, which clearly suggested the actual positioning is: Eden Ace (tape?) Teruko (tape ?) . Problem is, the tape still exitsted right before, and went missing right after Ace stood up under the Teruko "yeah i figured" dialogue box, few secs before Eden stood up, therefore her positioning would exclude her possibility of getting it. And Ace couldn't get it either since four eyes were, and the camera was mostly on him, even depicting him reaching his wound with two hands.

I think If the dev did had such meticulous intent for this hidden scene to be the key to locking the culprit, they would most likely be equally meticulous about either the tape's positioning or Ace's act to make unequivocal sense that one of them would have a clear window to obtain it, which in turn suggests they probably never had such intention to begin with.

Also, we got to consider factoring in complementary details like the starched clothes ball(Levi was the only one who mentioned being in the laundry room some time at night in ep10),Eden mentioning "someone's been following her" (I'm 100% sure this is what the dev planted to make sense of why a 3rd party could overhear Eden&Arturo&Arei event), Arei's missing glove(both Eden and Ace wears glove, Levi doesn't), enough strength to throw the rope near the ceiling(they emphasized early in one scene how high the ceiling is and eden is the smallest girl) Whit trying to make an argument about another motive Levi could have for killing Arei yet got cut off, and trying to redirect the crew's attention back to Levi's secret itself for some reason and got cut off again in ep13 11:22 12:44 (this i think is super super important and it seems only I was mentioning this). These solid details are all adding to the likelihood of Levi, and I really can't find as many other details to back Eden or Ace.

I also had a secondary theory back when ep13 dropped might worth mentioning: could the fish simply be symbolic? Sleep with the fish(godfather thingy)? Levi's background story suggests he is very likely involved in mafia conficts. J even asked him if he was "in" the mafia to which he prompt answered No. But very interestingly the dev specifically gives him a pondering "..." scene immediately after his respond to show he seemed to be thinking about the definition of his involement, then J pushed him to elaborate and he digressed.(starting from ep13 1:28) And Levi did have Italian surname.

I don't have that much confidence in this intepretation alone to begin with as I thought it is a bit old school. But since my major theory makes sense, this one doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore.

[cfr749]

So in the interest of engaging in a respectful way, I wanted to put my thoughts into words about why this situation with the picture is far bigger than the picture for me personally. I also don't think the picture is that serious. I do think the pattern I talk about below is problematic.

If you love everything about the show and how Tim and Lucy got together, I think that’s wonderful. 

But before getting annoyed that people are voicing their opinions and concerns, I hope that people at least try and consider these are layered issues. 

Lucy is a woman of color in the LAPD who ended up in a relationship with her former boss, despite knowing it could come at a price for her professionally. 

For me, it is important to see a story where Tim and Lucy choose each other, respect each other, and support each other. Equally. 

And, for me, that is not at all the story we got in seasons 4 and 5 (and the end of season 3). These are my issues, and why I think it’s important the show be more balanced in its storytelling going forward: 

What we got for Lucy: Multiple instances of Lucy being petty, jealous, immature and unprofessional at work (and mind you this is a character that is hyperaware of how hard it is to be a woman in the LAPD, and specifically the optics of romantic relationships between officers, and I think it's shitty that the writers chose to portray her like this not once, but multiple times)

The Katie Barnes storyline

Webb and the cat personality test + vocally reacting in roll call in front of her fellow officers when Tim chose Smitty over her to be his aide

Being clearly invested and heavily focused on bets and competition with Tim

What we got for Tim:

a retcon of his bad behavior in S1 being because he needed to show Lucy the world could be a scary place. Because, as a woman who was literally threatened with sexual assault and a car jacking in the pilot, she was too naive and inexperienced and "empathetic" to know that.

Tim putting Lucy in her place and reminding her about the seriousness of their work by calling off the bet

***

What we got for Lucy:

Obvious jealousy over Ashley (you're in a relationship? you're dating a lifeguard? break up with her! the reaction to the proposal, etc.)

What we got for Tim:

Setting Lucy up with another man without a second of hesitation.

Encouraging her to end things with Chris (a WHOLE other issue I won't get into), after Ashley had dumped him

***

What we got for Lucy:

Being seemingly more invested in and concerned about Tim's relationship than her own (Tim's planning a vacation with Ashley, while Lucy doesn't want to meet Chris' parents and is very concerned about whether Tim is going to propose)

Dumping Chris, not of her own accord, but because Tim was able to “open her eyes”

Specifically dumping that guy FOR Tim, in a way that made her look like an asshole 

What we got for Tim:

being in a relationship with a woman he was absolutely into, despite their clear incompatibility (we heard from Eric himself that Tim was genuinely interested in Ashley, happy and invested in his relationship with her; we heard Tim say he could see himself marrying her)

Choosing not to break up with Ashley despite all of the indications they weren’t right for each other and being willing to cheat on her

Not being willing to retire for her, but still not ending the relationship

Being made into the victim when Ashley dumped him in a way that made her look like an asshole

Only pursuing a relationship with Lucy after he'd been dumped, while she was still in a relationship

If you don’t feel the story was lopsided and unfair to Lucy, or have a completely different perspective (I'd genuinely love to hear it!!), just don’t care, or find it that serious, that’s great for you, but it’s completely valid that people feel this way.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see a woman in a relationship be valued and treated well. That has nothing to do with insecurity or jealousy. That has to do with respect and representation. We all come from different perspectives and have different backgrounds that reflect in our perception of how women of color are portrayed on TV.

[lemonhemlock]

i get what you’re saying but i get what dany stans are saying too, what is the difference between dany taking back kl and sansa taking back winterfell? at the end of the day, monarchy sucks and none of these characters are truly "worthy"

I approached this topic more in-depth here and here.

The difference between Dany taking back King's Landing and Sansa taking back Winterfell lies in the construction of legitimacy. When engaging with medieval fantasy, rejecting its political framework and ignoring its limitations in absorbing more egalitarian ideology (and the socio-technological constraints that inform those political/philosophical limitations) is going to prove a fruitless pursuit. Westeros is roughly based on feudal Europe and has a recognizable European political thought inheritance and recognizable medieval technology and means, so I think it would be reasonable to employ political philosophy that could be plausibly applied during the period from which it takes inspiration.

~unnecessarily long essay no one asked for below~

In this regard, what makes for a "worthy" ruler in medieval times might differ with the passage of centuries, as socio-political practices transform. Which is why I feel like the validity of monarchy as a form of government was never truly under question in this setting, even though it has certainly been criticised and points have been made about social injustices arising from wealth disparities and the segregation of social spheres (I hesitate to call them social classes as I don't think the Westerosi have developed class consciousness yet).

I think that this is ultimately an element of disappointment for some readers, who are trying to project onto the text something that is not there, instead of switching to progressive fiction that addresses their concerns and presents alternative political systems. What I mean to say is that dismissing all types of monarchy as illegitimate is not useful within the text, as it renders all differences between the characters null & ignores the entire historical evolution of the concept of legitimacy. So you end up with takes like "it doesn't really matter who sits the throne". It matters very much to Martin, because that is the type of story he is trying to tell, that's... the entire point of the series. He is a boomer writing about dragons and knights in the 90s, not a transformative political thinker who is going to smack us with a new social order at the end of the series. That doesn't mean he can't critique the system or the characters' approaches to ruling. That's why he keeps killing the unfit kings & punishing those who rely on wanton brutality.

Coming back to the question, Dany's family was deposed, meaning that, legally-speaking, she doesn't have any "birthright" to the throne of Westeros anymore, no matter what she tells herself. Is deposition legal? John Locke certainly thought so in his Second Treatise of Government, chapters "Of Tyranny" and "Of The Dissolution of Government". Below we have Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "Discourse on Inequality":

OK, these are Enlightenment thinkers, but the concept was not new. The Magna Carta of 1215 certainly has a provision for this. That's medieval enough, I feel.

(Ralph V. Turner, "Magna Carta Through the Ages", Harlow, Pearson Longman, 2003 - the original article was too long lol but anyone can look it up for themselves).

Thomas Aquinas, "Summa Theologica", 1274:

etc.

You will find these ideas under the term "right of revolution".

Many medieval kings IRL have been deposed or lost their crown. Richard II, anyone? There's an entire play about it. So, yes, Robert Baratheon is the legal king of Westeros at the start of AGOT and Viserys / Daenerys simply are not. There is no birthright to speak of, that is just Dany's entitlement that goes unchecked and unquestioned.

Of course, crowns can be won back by the right of conquest, which is what Dany is trying to do. GRRM's plan for her seems to either be rejected by the people of King's Landing for whatever reason (a la Rhaenyra maybe) or for her to commit such an atrocity on the city in her attempt to seize it that it disqualifies her as a potential ruler because she breaks the normal rules of engagement to a horrifying degree (i.e. dragonflame). Dany's entire plan is questionable from the start, since she intends to mount an invasion on a people brutalised by several years of war already, on the onset of winter - essentially extra suffering. The conditions are there so that the Westerosi might not interpret her actions as liberation, but merely as another pretender to the throne, who is only after her personal betterment - basically no different from what they've seen before, so no reason to join her cause or believe in her propaganda. She will bring fire-breathing monsters, Dothraki and Unsullied warriors to their lands, whom they fear and for whom they have no kinship. They have no particular attachment to the old Targaryen kings either. In short, Dany's father was deposed and she will end up deposed herself because of her own actions (or never recognised in the first place). I'm not saying this because I have beef with Daenerys, she is not a real person who did me wrong, she is a fictional character the author is using to illustrate a political idea.

Whereas the people of the North maintain a very favourable view of the Starks and of Ned Stark in particular. They are seen as the legitimate rulers of the North and their replacements (the Boltons) are almost universally hated. The text is littered with "the North remembers" and "there must always be a Stark in Winterfell" and general Stark-fawning. The people of the North were very eager to name Ned Stark's son as their king. The people of the Night's Watch voted for Ned Stark's 15-year-old bastard as their leader. Ramsay Bolton pretends to marry Arya Stark to consolidate his legitimacy as the ruler of Winterfell and the North. Many other characters covet Sansa for the same reason. The Starks have not been deposed, unlike the Targaryens, they're just missing / presumed dead and Winterfell is up for grabs. None of our Northern characters think how lovely it would be if we had a Targaryen restauration. These things may seem like candy floss to the modern reader and they may not resonate, but they mattered a lot in the past. So when Sansa takes back Winterfell, it will be with the backing of the majority of the Northern population and with the help of the Knights of the Vale, who are seen as honourable and are of Andal descent, so will not be perceived as foreign invaders. No one in the North will be contemplating their right-to-revolution against the Starks, because they will be revolting alongside Sansa to free themselves from the abusive Bolton rule.

Sansa rebuilds Winterfell out of snow and thinks of it warmly as her home, feels kinship and connection with the place she grew up in, whereas Daenerys feels possessive over a land she's never seen and wants to take it with "fire and blood". True, these are not actions, not crimes for Dany and neither acts of benevolence for Sansa. They haven't done anything yet. But they are images. Framing. Hints. That's how literature works.

Could Dany be given a narrative of Westerosi restauration? Could GRRM write her as gaining popular support and as not breaking the social contract while installing herself back on the throne? Had only Book 1 been published, these questions would have had more validity. But after Book 5? Not when Martin frames her like that and literally kicks her out of the city she conquered.

[fishy--friend]

Why I hate Stanford Pines: An Essay* *(yes this counts as an essay because its too long not to be)

I do not like ford (though i do tolerate his existence purely for the fact he made Stan [even though that SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED IN THE FIRST PLACE] who he was today) and before all you ford simps attack me hear me out first because for once i actually have reasons

a lot of the ford simps are like "omg hes so hot" "hes so autistic aroace rep" and fail to talk about the downright disgusting things he did

like... you know he isn't an innocent soft owl boy right? HE GOT HIS BROTHER NEARLY KILLED LIKE 15 TIMES FOR ACCIDENTALLY BREAKING A STUPID SCIENCE PROJECT AND NEVER ACTUALLY VALUED HIS EFFORTS UNTIL HE ALMOST WITNESSED THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER. Granted he had no way of knowing about what he put Stan through due to cutting him off and all, but I feel like when Stan did tell how he was doing, or showed up to Ford's place looking a mess, he could've tried to reach out for once since the last like 10 years. And sure, maybe in some offscreen moment he paused and asked Stan how he was doing, but looking at ATOTS that clearly did not happen. And even when Ford returned, he treated his brother like absolute dog shit and was going to kick him out once summer ended thinking he had someplace to live (of course if we're going off of Stan's verbal retelling of his backstory, he glossed over his homelessness and the gang fights he got into).

Ford didn't even take Stan's suggestion about using his brain to trick Bill seriously at first before Stan pointed out it was their only option. Only then, when faced with the brother he looked down upon and scrutinized for years, did he hesitate. He didn't hesitate to kick him out before, to abandon him and leave him to do god knows what, but that was the only time he looked genuinely sorry for what he did to his brother. Of course, being the one pulling the trigger is different than accidentally causing it, and you could count Ford looking away as he closed the curtains to their room when Stan got kicked out as apologetic, but even that could've been played off as sadness for not getting into his dream school.

Don't even get me STARTED on how he treated Mabel running off, assuming she was just "being moody" and barely showing concern. He didn't even pause for a moment to think about it, just hopping back into sealing the rift. And when Weirdmaggedon started he didn't even stop to worry about Mabel, to question if she was okay, he brushed off Dipper's concerns for his sister like it wasn't valid!

In conclusion, I despise ford with a burning passion and i doubt that Book of Bill is going to change that. Also can we talk about Shifty for a sec? He absolutely abused the poor thing, treated it like an animal and gave it no room for it to grow its abilities. If ford was real it would be on sight dude.