#like i think parts of the journal 3 pages did happen

[wingsmould]

the book of bill is interesting because you cant take any of it at face value

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.  

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss. 

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself. 

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke: 

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road? 

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side. 

Of the book, that is. 

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context? 

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting a connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something:  This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions: 

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now? 

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin? 

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question: 

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?  

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question: 

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis? 

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.  

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages? 

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story.  And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here? 

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly. 

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are not pages actually written by Ford, but more a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! That Bill is the one writing them, and the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

(This single paragraph has been inserted a good deal after the original writing of this post.) I would like to clarify, I am not trying to claim the ideas presented in the pages have no basis in reality whatsoever. Ultimately, what I'm saying is I think Bill wrote them, and they should be taken with suspicion instead of as complete fact. "Did this event happen exactly this way?", "Does some of this feel distorted?", "Did this part even happen at all?" I think those are questions worth examining with the events detailed on these pages.

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe them to be Ford's own writings. I only want to share my own thoughts on them. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

[multidimensionimagines]

Sweater Weather (part 2)

part 1 part 2!

content warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), Ford being kinda pathetic, afab!reader, praise (mostly from Ford <3)

summary: you borrow Ford’s sweater when it gets cold

author note: sorry this took so long to finish! I’m sick rn but I got it done lol

As you huffed and rummaged through your closet, you couldn’t find a single thing that was thick and long enough to shield your chilly body from the cold of the Shack. There was no fireplace down in Ford’s lab, and god knows Stanley was too cheap to install a thermostat, so you were left to scavenge for yourself like a hungry, cloth eating possum.

That is until you heard the door from across the hall creak, the one to Ford’s room. You stood silently for a moment before walking over there with a new idea in mind.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if I just borrow one of his, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shifting through the hangers in his closet. “he’s got like a million of em…” you mused to yourself, noticing how he just had 5 of the exact same red turtleneck in his closet. You pulled one out and threw it over yourself, embracing how the soft, thick wool embraced your goosepimpled skin. You shuddered, bringing your arms up to hug yourself to allow the garment to trap your body heat as it was a little big on you. And as you did, you could get a small hint of Ford’s natural scent that still clung onto the microfibres of the sweater even after being put through the wash. You took the collar and brought it up to your nose, closing your eyes and taking in a long, deep breath that sent a giddy shiver through your body. You loved the natural scent of your partner, and you remembered that one time you mentioned it and he went on to explain to you how that “was actually a sign that you two were biologically compatible”. You snorted, he always seemed to make even the most technical and “boring” aspects of romance more.. romantic. Deciding that this was sufficient, you trotted back downstairs to revisit your patiently awaiting boyfriend (even though he was probably incredibly focused on his work so you would hardly consider him waiting).

“Hi honey!” You cheered, entering the lab and closing the door behind you. Ford didn’t look back to greet you this time, but you could hear the smile in his voice from behind his head. He busily scribbled in his journal and gave you a wave with his free hand.

“Hello dear! I can trust you found something reasonable?”

You nodded a small ‘yeah’ and joined him again at his desk, standing behind him and resting a hand on the back of his shoulder. This caught his attention, and he lifted his eyes up from his page to peer at you from the corner of his eye. What you didn’t think would happen however, was his mouth dropping open with a slight gasp and his torso completely turning to face you. You almost jumped, suddenly unsure if you had somehow stepped over some kind of boundary.

“Oh, sorry, did you want me to put on something else?” You felt kinda bad now, feeling like you should have asked him first before taking something that was his. But he shook his head, his mouth quickly opening and closing as he tried to find the right words.

“Uh.. no! N-no- it’s-uh..” he brought a fist to his lips to clear his throat for a few long, awkward seconds. You furrowed your eyebrows, still not entirely sure if he was mad or just… surprised. Ford shook his head again, blinking rapidly and ducking his head down to gaze at his lap, collecting his thoughts as he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before opening them again.

“It’s fine. You look…” he trailed off, placing a hand on his thigh and squeezing the fabric of his pants to try and get a grip on himself. “you look nice, I’m just..” he adjusted his glasses, lifting his head back up to you. Oh, that was a mistake. Seeing you looking so perfect in something that was his made him loose track of his thoughts all over again. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Surprised. To see you in something of mine, is all…” he trailed off, his gaze wandering to the side so that he might have some semblance of dignity in explaining himself to you. But the red blush that was forming in his cheeks betrayed him.

You weren’t an idiot, nor were you blind, so you could definitely see how this was affecting him. And it made you a bit proud of yourself, and you hadn’t forgotten that your hand was still on his shoulder, so you rubbed your thumb gently back and forth a little, making his breath hitch.

“Oh good..” you chuckled “I was beginning to worry that you were upset that I took one of your sweaters.”

Ford let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders very obviously shaking under your touch as he looked up at you with a crooked smile. “Oh, no no no, my dear. Surprised, yes. Mad? No. Not at you, never at you.” He said softly, placing a hand on top of yours.

Now was your turn to blush and smile awkwardly. “Mind if I sit back down?”

“What?” Ford blinked, taking a second to realize what you meant. You had been sitting in his lap earlier. Ah, yes… right. “Oh! Um, yes! Yes, of course you can…” he opened his arms and shifted his legs towards you so that you could easily slide back onto his lap, he shifted himself awkwardly so that he was sitting right back in his previous position, only with one arm around your waist this time while the other furiously worked on his notations. Well… tried to anyway.

You were too damn distracting. With your body so close to his in that sweater that he owned. His sweater. His. On you. The image of you in it driving him crazy with the idea that it marked you in a way. Sort of. Like you wearing it was equivalent of you with a tattoo that read “Property of Stanford Pines”. And oh how that idea made him shiver. He shifted again in his seat, trying to avoid your gorgeous thighs from brushing up against the growing stiffness in his pants, not wanting to make it so obvious that he was in fact very, very aroused by this. By you. But it was getting harder to think, he was having to erase and re write words more than normal, his cursive was getting sloppy, he was writing too fast and his breath was becoming quick, all while you were mindlessly resting your head on his shoulder and clinging to him for stability, your eyes half lidded as they watched his free hand work. Which put on even MORE pressure for him to try and act normal. Just be normal, he told himself. But who was he kidding, he’s never been normal a day in his life. Oh god, that scent of yours was gonna be on that sweater for the next couple days. Was he absolutely sure that you weren’t a siren? He would have to run some tests. You had already told him that no, you weren’t, but damn it if moments like these didn’t make it hard for him to believe.

It wasn’t until a small “Ford, you okay?” left your lips that he realized that he was gripping your waist obscenely tight.

He gasped, immediately loosening his grip and dropping his pen. He turned to you with a wild look in his eyes. “Ah- no!”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, yes! I mean.. uh…”

You lifted your hands to his face, caressing his cheeks and inspecting him. He remained silent as you turned his head gently to each side. “You’re burning up. I can leave if I’m distracting you.” You said softly with a genuine air of care in your tone, rubbing your thumbs along his stubbly cheeks. Oh, why did you have to be so genuine and sweet? You were making it all the more difficult for him to not feel disappointed with himself for getting so worked up by something so seemingly mundane. But in a hasty move, his hands flew to your wrists, his eyes wider than before.

“No!”

You furrowed your brows, waiting a few seconds as he collected his thoughts to speak.

“I’m sorry, this is very inappropriate of me. I shouldn’t be so worked up over this but I- you…” he sighed, hanging his head down in shame. “you just.. look very… tempting, like this.”

Your mouth dropped open, and a small “oh!” fell from your lips. “…really?” You chuckled, moving yourself closer to him in his lap which made him stiffen and lean back, trying to not let you see just how much you were getting to him. And you barely even had to do anything.

“Ah… yes.” He looked away from you, the blush in his cheeks and the shame in his eyes too much for him to bear to face you. You had to hold back your laughter at just how darn adorable he was being, you didn’t want to embarrass him.

“Oh, Stanford..” you cooed, bringing your lips to his for a kiss, making him jump in his seat. You expected him to shy away, but his other hand flew to your waist, bringing you closer. A small moan escaped him as you lifted your leg up and over to his side, effectively straddling his lap, and as you did you felt your thigh brush against his bulge, making him gasp. You smiled, not being able to help the small giggle that escaped you as you continued kissing him. He responded with an embarrassed groan as he gripped your waist tighter, digging his fingers into your sides through the thick fabric of the sweater.

“Mmmm… darling…” he huffed against your lips, not taking himself off of you for a second. You could feel his hot breath on your cheek as it quickened, his hands roaming over your body in a more feverish attempt to feel every inch of you like this, making the sweater hike up an inch or two above your torso. He quickly dipped his hand underneath to feel your skin against his fingers, rubbing sensual little circles into the dip of your waist with his thumb, squeezing any flesh he could get his fingers on.

“Mm..mm-my dear, please, if I don’t have you for at least a moment I’m afraid I won’t be able to finish the rest of my work..” he pleaded, pulling back and looking at you with big, desperate eyes behind his fogged up glasses. You melted at the sight, and made a mental note to wear his sweater more often.

“Do whatever you need to, sweetie~” you grinned, sighing and collapsing your lips back onto his, earning a muffled noise of excitement from him. Quickly things got heated, and Stanford lifted you up with a grunt, shifting one arm to cradle your perfect behind and the other to hastily shove aside his materials, knocking some to the floor by accident. But he didn’t care right now. All he cared about was you. Your body, your scent, your lips… just you. Everything was you right now. He gently laid you back down on his desk as he continued to kiss you, trapping you between his torso and the table. His tongue flickered out against your bottom lip in a desperate plea for access, which you oh so graciously granted. He let out a shuddering, whiny moan when you did, shyly sliding his tongue between your lips into your open mouth.

You sneakily reached back underneath your- well, Ford’s sweater that was on you, and undid the clasp of your bra, maneuvering the straps down your shoulders and out of each sleeve so that you could pull it down and out from under the garment. Ford felt you do this and opened his eyes momentarily to look down at you, his eyes scanning over the sight of you now; your nipples that were made hard by the cold poking through the fabric of his sweater. He didn’t think his face could burn any hotter. And he couldn’t think of a sight lovelier.

“My god…” he muttered, licking his lips involuntarily. You could see sweat already dripping from his forehead. “Dear, you are just…” he trailed off, his eyes flickered from your chest to your gleaming eyes. Exquisite. Beautiful. Show-stopping. More incredible of a sight than the Milky Way itself. Those were all the things he wanted to say, but the words caught in his poor throat. He gulped in an attempt to moisten his vocal cords so that he could speak. “M-may I…?” he whispered, not taking his eyes off of yours as he gently trailed a hand up your torso, his fingers twitching at the anticipation of maybe getting to touch you if you allowed it. And bless your good, kind heart, you nodded. He’d have to thank you thrice over after this.

He smiled and leaned back down to capture you in another hot, messy kiss as his hand excitedly flew up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently through the thick red fabric. His hand began moving in small circles against it, gently massaging the fleshy mound in an attempt to get you a little more warmed up, and by god was it working with the way his palm pressed into your sensitive bud as it moved in little circles. Even beneath the sweater, you could feel almost every sensation of his touch. His other hand moved under the sweater, squeezing your waist gently to hold you in place while he began to kiss down your jaw, he lifted the hand on your waist now to cradle the back of your head as he went down to attack the column of your neck, using two of his fingers to push down the collar so that it wasn’t in the way of his numerous little love bites he was leaving between kisses.

“Oh god… Ford..” you moaned, tilting your head back to give him more access. And you had no idea how much that just spurred him on. What could he really say? You drove him crazy. He shuddered when he heard that, biting into your neck a little harder.

“S-say that again… my dear.. p-please..” he whispered huskily, his hot breath on the skin of your neck.

You felt your cheeks beginning to flush and let your stuttering lips utter his name again. Which earned a little whimper from him as he pushed his lips back up into yours again, his brows were furrowed as if he were focused intensely on an important project. The more little noises and gasps he earned from you, the more he felt his hips began to unintentionally push up against you. His bulge aching very obviously in his slacks, the hardness pressing to your core. His hips started to buck in little spastic moments, not able to contain his lust for you.

“Mmm.. mm.. ohhhh…” Ford shuddered as he found a steady rhythm for him to desperately rut against you, despite you both still having your pants fully on. He was essentially dry humping you now through your jeans, causing you to bring your legs up a little to cling to his sides as he had you laid comfortably back on the desk still. You felt his fingers give your nipple a little pinch, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger gently making you moan. He wanted more of that. That sound. He wanted to record that and put it in an audio piece to install into his brain so that he could hear it whenever and wherever he wanted with complete and utter discrepancy. Surely he could do that, right? If he could have a metal plate installed why not something as simple as that?

Ford moved his hand to sneak under the sweater, his fingers ghosting against your skin and meeting your breast once more. Doing the same mannerisms he had beforehand, only now he was able to feel your supple, beautiful bare skin against his fingers. He sighed happily at the contact, deciding he wanted more and shoving his other hand under your sweater, cupping your other breast and kneading and massaging it under his large, rough palm. Switching between squeezing them and then rubbing them in small circles, purposefully pressing his palms against your hard, sensitive buds.

“Mmmmphh~ Oh.. darling” he panted against your lips. “darling you feel divine…” he said shakily, and before you could get any response out he pinched both your nipples, making you squeak in surprise. Oh god, that little sound you made… it was a miracle he didn’t cum right then and there in his pants. He began to move his head down again, leaving a trail of hot, hasty kisses against your neck as he mumbled “I’m sorry.. I need to..”

You breathed out a shaky little “huh?” before feeling his hands slide down your torso and over your hips, gripping onto them firmly to move you up his desk so he could duck his head down to your chest, shoving the sweater fabric to bunch up to your collarbone revealing your perfect torso, tummy, and chest. All bare and all for him. God, your tits looked fucking fantastic, his sweater made a perfect arch above them, framing them in a way that welcomed him to stare at. He suddenly got an idea, he gripped the bunched up fabric and held it to your lips. “You may want to bite down on this.” He suggested, making your eyes widen, but you did as he told you to and gently took what you could between your teeth, the sight making him shiver. You didn’t even have to do much, did you? Seductress.

Ford wasted no time in moving back down to wrap his lips around your nipple, taking the sweet bud gently between his lips and caressing the other with his fingers, tweaking and squeezing the one between his fingers and kissing and sucking on the one in his mouth. Rolling his tongue around the pebble occasionally. His breathing was heavy against your skin and his other hand squeezed your hip to keep you in place for him. God, he just loved you like this. Laid out for him to adore and worship and play with. He gave your breast a rough little squeeze, making you gasp, but it was muffled by the sweater. Ford groaned, the sound vibrating through his mouth onto your chest. He switched his mouth to the other side, taking his hand from your hip to hold your breast that was now slick with his own saliva, and he did the same thing as before. Earning another little sigh and a coo of his name from your sweet, angel voice.

“Ohhhh… my darling..” he murmured, kissing you down the swell of your gorgeous mound, squishing it up slightly, then your torso, then your stomach. He reached down to bring your hips into his grip by both hands, lifting them slightly so he could bury his face into the flesh of your lower stomach just above the waistband of your jeans and leave a long, deep, lingering kiss.

“Mmmmphhh… mmmm~” he moaned into your skin, making you giggle.

“Dear you’re absolutely stunning… a goddess… may I..?”

Ford tugged sheepishly at your jeans, hooking a finger into one of the empty belt loops and looking up at you with a shy, begging expression. And how could you say no to such a face? With his glasses all crooked and his silver hair a mess over his eyes. His cheeks still redder than an apple orchard. With a grin, you enthusiastically nodded, making him beam and continue to kiss your abdomen, closing his eyes and carefully unbuttoning your pants to peel them down off your thighs. Ford didn’t ever think he would get over that feeling, of undressing you and revealing your perfect skin to him. Like he was unwrapping a present only he got to bear witness to. After tugging them the rest of the way down your beautiful legs, discarding them completely, he took a moment to appreciate the sight between your legs, feeling a little less embarrassed too at just how hard he currently was. If the wet stain on your panties at your core was anything to go by, you were just as aroused as he was. And Ford couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride swell in him that he was able to elicit that kind of excitement from you.

Ford immediately got on his knees, feeling that this was the most appropriate position for him to be in at all times when he was with you like this to be honest. You deserved no less than complete and utter worship in his mind. He wasted no time grabbing your thighs, hoisting them both up over his shoulders and turning his head to each side to leave an even amount of kisses on each one. He nearly creamed when he felt your hands reach down to play with his hair. No, he would not let himself do that, not yet at least. Despite how much he wanted to just say fuck it and yank you down onto his lap, or get back up on top of you and fuck into you senseless like you were rabbits trying to go for a world record of most litters in one spring, his sense of self control was impeccable. Especially right now. He wanted, no, he needed to treat you like a princess. Because that’s what you were. A princess. Yes exactly. His mouth continued to kiss and suck on the flesh of your inner thighs as his fingers dug into you, making you squirm and shiver under his touch as well as a few moans and whispers of his name that tickled his ears and made his cock twitch under his slacks. Ford was certain that if he looked down, he would see a rather embarrassingly large wet spot right where his tip ached. But he tried not to think about it, as hard as that was right now. No pun intended. He just thanked the stars you were laying on top of his table, unable to see any of the humiliating turmoil he was experiencing down below.

Ford hooked a finger around the hem of your panties as he continued to suck and bite up your thigh, leaving a hot wet trail of his spit along your skin. He yanked at the undergarment gently a few times to ask permission as his mouth was occupied with marking your flesh.

You nodded from where you laid back on the desk, letting out a shuddering breath. “Yes.. please, Ford… god yes..”

And that was all he needed to hear. Ford removed his mouth from your skin for only a millisecond, eager to get his lips back on you with the speed of which he removed your underwear. He lifted one of his hands from your thigh and let it rest on his shoulder that was broad enough to have it just sit there, and slowly ran two fingers up your already wet slits, shivering at how slick you already were for him. Just perfect enough to part your folds and slide two fingers in, just to warm you up before the main event.

He heard a long, deep moan come from you and only wished he could see your face when you did that. Imagining what it must have looked like only made his trousers tighter if you could believe it. He almost didn’t, but then again, it was you. Ford wouldn’t be too shocked if you had been able to make ejaculate with just a look. And some days… well he got pretty close.

He twisted his wrist upward so that he cupped your pussy, his fingers curling in and out of you and making sure he was pressing the ball of his palm against the sensitive button that rested atop of your vulva. Rubbing it in tandem with his fingers. Ford could already feel your clit begin to pulse and swell under his touch, making him groan against your thigh. He took in a deep breath to capture your scent in his nose but also to steady himself from the sounds of pleasure you were making because of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to hold out. He had to make you cum, and quickly. So he removed his hand from your heat, and despite the desperate little whine that escaped you he managed to keep his composure for just a second. Ford peered up at your face from where he kneeled, and being rather tall he could still view you as if he were hovering on top of you, and by god did you look exquisite. Your face was flushed, your chest heaved and your lips quivered as you begged him for more of his touch. Oh, that was music to his ears.

“Mmm.. Ford….” You whined, rubbing your thigh against his stubbly cheek to signal for him to keep going- which drove him insane. He wished you would do that more often and made a mental note of that. To have the flesh of your thigh pressed against his face… ohhh.. he shuddered.

Ford had to catch his breath to mumble out a quick response. “I-I know dear, I know…” he chuckled, kissing softly along your other thigh one more time before pressing his mouth to your open folds, his tongue immediately made its way into your opening and tasted you fervently. The sounds he was making were comparable to that of a man that hadn’t eaten in days. Ford’s face was sufficiently pressed up against your core, his nose rubbing up against your clit. Unintentional, but nonetheless welcome as it provided even more friction and the pleasant sensation of his hot, heavy breaths on it as he ate you out. His tongue curled in and out of your hole as he squeezed and rubbed your upper thighs, working you like a muscle. He brought you in closer if that was even possible, hearing your rough and jagged panting from above him encouraging him to keep going. Ford groaned when he felt your thighs squeeze around his head more, smushing his glasses up his nose a little bit and making his eyes roll back into his head. God, you were beautiful. So so beautiful and too good for him. He should be thanking you for even letting him do this. And when you started to roll your hips forward into his mouth, he couldn’t help the way his own hips twitched upwards, like he was hoping to find some release by grinding into the air, but to no avail.

“Oh god.. Stanford…. ahhh….!” you gasped, tilting your head back against the cold, metal desk as your back arched slightly. That earned an even louder groan from him, his eyebrows slanting upwards. Ford felt his member twitch again when you gripped his silver hair tighter, and he almost lost himself there. But he continued to hold on for you, determined to make sure you were satisfied first. He began to suck on your clit, taking advantage of its sensitivity and running his tongue over it, he switched between that motion and shoving his tongue inside you, attempting to do both at once. And he was succeeding.

“Ahhhh! Oh god.. Ford.. I’m.. close!” You panted, gripping onto the edge of the table. You could feel your thigh muscles begin to tense as you rode yourself to your release. You came hard into his mouth, head tilting back and lips falling open as you groaned. Your legs curled inwards to keep Ford in place as you came down from your high. And he would not complain at all. He drank in the sweet honey substance, revelling in the taste of you as he continued to gently run his tongue up your labia to soothe the sensitivity.

Ford slowly began to pull away, panting and wiping a hand under his nose that was covered in your slick. He peered up at you to admire the mess he reduced you to. God you were stunning. He watched as you attempted to catch your breath, rubbing a thumb into the flesh of your thighs soothingly.

“That’s it… you did so good for me, my love.” He sighed, resting a cheek on your thigh.

You chuckled breathlessly, trying to lift yourself up to sit. You propped yourself up on your elbows and gazed at Ford through your lashes.

“thank you.. you were the one who did all the work, though” you said shyly, feeling kinda bad that he only ever seemed to focus on your pleasure. But every time you brought it up, he would shake his head and tut. Claiming that your pleasure was his.

Ford chuckled, standing up between your legs to lean down and plant a kiss to your lips. Trying to hide the fact that he was rather a mess himself. But your eyes drifted downward, seeing the very obvious stain on his slacks where his cock previously pressed up against the fabric and was now flaccid. You quickly put two and two together and realized…

“did you already…?”

You asked with a slight tease in your tone. He tried to play it off like he had no idea what you were talking about. But he knew he couldn’t hide anything from you.

“W-what? No, no I-“ his cheeks burned a red that reached the tips of his ears. He sighed. “Uh…” he gulped, feeling the burning embarrassment of 10,000 suns in his body.

You almost didn’t believe it just by the sheer flattery of it. Ford came, in his pants, just from getting to eat you out.

You giggled and brought his lips to yours again, digging your fingers in his hair.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Ford. I think it’s hot..”

Ford nearly choked on his own air. Adjusting his foggy glasses he sputtered out a nervous, disbelieving “Y-y-you do?!”

You nodded, bringing him closer to you. He stumbled a bit.

“Should we.. get cleaned up, then?”

Ford breathlessly chuckled, scratching the back of his head. Still a bit embarrassed but not nearly as mortified as before. “Ah.. yes, y-yes, let’s.”

He lifted you up off the desk, his sweater falling back over you and easily covering the intimate parts of your body. You both exchanged a loving little peck before taking the secret way to his room, lest he go through the shame and embarrassment of any of the Shack’s residents see him like this.

You’d have to borrow Ford’s sweaters more often.

[nenoname]

Journal 3’s references to Stan

(…does the Lost Pages count as J3 when some had to be in J2 and also may or may not be a truth lie turducken? idk. Ford’s TBoB letters sure as hell don’t count as J3 but I’m including them here anyway)

Lost Journal Pages

"STANLEY COULD HAVE MADE HER LAUGH"

“My stomach sank a bit when I realized… it was my birthday. This day has felt… odd, since S and I… parted ways.”

"I was adjusting my TV antennae for weather reports (looking for ideal conditions for F's first portal test) and spat out my coffee when I saw THIS! My brother hawking scams under the name "Panley Stines." I had half a mind to call that number, just to pretend to be the police and maybe scare S straight for once! There is something so galling about seeing your OWN FACE committing crimes on your own TV! When my Muse saw me break my stress ball, I decided it was finally time to vent about Stanley."

""How about that; you've got an inferior clone! Why didn't you just eat him in the womb? Think of how powerful you'd be!"

"You can't just eat your twin, Bill."

You'd be surprised what you can eat! I say sure, call him if you want him to start mooching off you again! ME, I went no contact with my home dimension and I don't regret it. All they did was hold me back and sabotage my talents! Can you imagine?"

"More than you know. But you do ever wonder if maybe... maybe things could have been different?""

"Our heat budget was so tight that Mom forced S and me to wear one sweater at the same time. (She called it the "Abominable Snow-Stan." Our cat lived in fear of it year-round.)"

“DAMN! This morning I found F rummaging through my old copy of Urban Legends of New Jersey, where I had forgotten I had hidden some old personal items! I’ve quickly re-hidden them here, away from prying eyes.”

"But then he crossed a line. Helplessly I watched Cipher in my own body limp up to a pay phone and dial... STANLEY'S phone number from the infomercial?! No. He wouldn't.

"Hey brother, it's Sixer. I'm going to take a swim in the frozen lake tomorrow, and I might not ever come back, so if you don't hear from me, I just want you to know that it's because I never loved you. BUH-BYEEEEE."

My heart was in my throat until I heard the dial tone... The pay phone was out of order. The message hadn't gotten through. Cipher turned back to address me.

"TSK, TSK, TSK. LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME MAKE YOU DO! TOMORROW'S TAPE IS GONNA BE MUCH WORSE.""

(Bro secret code) "miss you"

“The snow has begun to fall again and there’s very little time. There’s only one left I can turn to to protect my journals while I prepare for the journey…”

"S is an overgrown child with none of my rigorous mental training. Who knows what could happen if Cipher stepped inside Stanley's mind for even one minute...

What if Stanley somehow manages to destroy the portal just like he destroyed my perpetual motion machine? I suppose that machine did work in its own way... It kept me perpetually angry for thirty years."

(Bro secret code) "HAVE I BEEN TOO HARSH ALL ALONG?"

"What if he tries to rope me into his latest get-rich-quick scheme? His latest commercial was for "Stan Sauce: The Miracle Sauce that's too cool for the FDA!"

What if... he mocks me? What if he sees that I abandoned our family to become a recluse on the brink of madness? Could I risk admitting that I was... wrong?

PROS: I have no one else. Well, that settles it. It's time to come face-to-face with a face I haven't seen in 10 years. My own face. Which... is my brother's face. God, I miss sleep."

Ford’s Letters

"In the weeks since Weirdmageddon, I conducted numerous tests on Stanley's mind (his terrible jokes are still intact) and inspected the state for dimensional leakage (we also took turns kicking the statue, and Stanley took a few cracks with a crowbar). I burned every Cipher-shaped item I had ever collected, and even threw away all my one-dollar bills, just to be safe (Stanley, of course, found and pocketed them).

“I emerged from my lab after days of agonized contemplation to find- to my shock- that Mabel was reading the book, out loud, to Stanley, Dipper, Soos, and Wendy!”

“They didn’t see me as an irredeemable screwup. Stanley said, "So, your past is just a giant pile of mistakes? Congratulations- you really are a Pines!”“

"Bill may tell you that happiness requires conquering galaxies and living forever, but I've seen enough of the universe to tell you that he's wrong. I've found my happiness. And it looks like this:"

"If you're reading this... then I am dead. Kidding! Sorry, Stanley thought that would be funny. Ha-ha! We're currently out shopping for harpoons to prepare for our trip to the arctic."

"Stan, if you end breaking into my lab at some point later today- Bravo! Still as good a locksmith as in 8th grade. Beers are under the desk."

(It kinda strikes me that the BoB Lost Journal pages about Stan sound far more like post-portal Ford’s opinions on Stan instead, where he’s openly angry at both being pushed into the portal + at the portal being opened again + his murder suicide attempt being foiled + Stan disowning him + turning his house into a tourist trap + taking his identity vs pre-portal Ford being more… melodramatic(?) constantly being reminded of him but not wanting to linger too long? idk the vibes are different

Plus pre-portal Ford pretty consistently only calls Stan "S” or just refers to him as his brother (with the exception of him writing his name in a Caesar cipher). I think he only ever messes up the general naming scheme a single time when he wrote Fiddleford instead of F

…not to mention the perpetual motion machine comment says thirty instead of ten years)

Other sections: Pre-Portal, Post-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

Part 1: Mandibles!

Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Welcome to the end.

Before we start, I just want to shine a light on some interpretations of the billboard in relation to part 2 of the theory right here, and an observation about "Trust no one" that relates to the theory right here.

Once again, for those new to the theory: it proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension-- he had a partner, one that used him like he used Ford. The previous three posts are crucial to understanding where I'm coming from with this.

This post will mostly be some miscellaneous things that I think could support the overall theory, honestly. So I'm just gonna get started with it. And, as always:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING CIPHERS

Let's finish this.

So, something that was in the original Arsonist Theory from years ago was that Bill, oddly enough, seemed afraid of his own fire powers. He never uses them in combat, even though it would be a major advantage to him to do so. In fact, he really only seems to use fire as little more than cosmetic flair, lighting his hand on fire to make deals and other situations like that. There are really only three times he uses his fire to directly effect the environment--

Ford's dream sequence, destroying the journals, and burning up the Cipher wheel in the finale.

It's a bit strange, though. All three of those times, he didn't use his signature blue flames. He used orange flames instead.

Another thing is, remember when he died? The second the room lit on fire, he panicked. He's a dream demon, he should have been able to get the hell out of there the second he realized something was wrong! He's not powerless in this situation, so why is he acting like he is? Unless, for some reason, something about the environment reminded him of a certain... other time he was surrounded by fire? A time where, unlike now, he was powerless? Curious!

That on its own doesn't support the theory directly, however it points to lingering trauma from the destruction of Euclidia regardless.

Now... I saw a theory that made an argument that the repeated motifs of "mandibles" points to the idea that Bill might have eaten his own family.

And honestly, I agree. But...

As another layer to it, we only know that Bill had a mutation that let him see the third dimension, along with most likely fire powers since birth. So where did this sudden interest in devouring people come from?

Maybe whoever was with him was the one that taught him it. The one that told him that consuming souls meant that you would never be alone, as they would always be inside of you forever. Because, to me, it seems like an odd leap from "wants to show everyone the third dimension" to "eating people as everything burns around him." So maybe, he was influenced by something? Someone?

And another thing: When Bill is dying, in the Book Of Bill, we see two ciphers on the page.

One of them is "AXOLOTL" over and over, as to be expected.

The other? "Just fit in."

That absolutely sounds like something Euclidia would have pushed upon him! Ergo, he was remembering Euclidia in that moment, ergo the fire did definitively remind him of Euclidia, ergo he seems to get flashbacks when he sees his own fire.

This next part is pure extrapolation, so bear with me here.

Bill, on one page, mentions a highlight of his glory days as being "disassociating, and waking up to find [he'd] conquered another dynasty." Score!

Except... disassociating? Think about it.

Bill had just made a mention to disassociation, implying that he knows that he does it and knows what it feels like for him when it happens.

But when he was talking about Euclidia... he says there's a "loud buzzing in [his] ears and [he] blacks out for 30 seconds."

If this was how his disassociation usually presented itself... wouldn't he just say so?

This doesn't sound like his usual denial, either. When Bill denies something, he remains perfectly cognizant of the events that occurred, merely twisting around some details and/or justifying it to himself.

...Remember back in part one, I said I'd discuss what Bill said about his weaknesses? About how he's been touchy about them ever since... something? And how the obvious interpretation is-- especially considering that he Gatsby's us after the memory gun is mentioned-- that he's touchy ever since the Pines defeated him?

Another thing this book teaches us is that multiple versions of the same object can exist. Mainly, there have been many different iterations of the portal over the centuries.

Perhaps... multiples of some other object can exist, and have existed, and have been used against Bill?

A loud buzzing in your ears. Do you know what makes a loud buzzing noise when it's used?

"No!" You're probably thinking.

"Yes," I say.

Okay, "Probably likely" I say, but that's not as good for dramatic flair.

Sure, the buzzing isn't that loud, but once it's up to your ear... it'd be plenty loud.

One of the ciphers regarding Bill says "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES." Meaning, there's a secret, deeper layer to even his lies. Maybe it's that, at least here, this isn't necessarily a lie, moreso that he's operating under missing information.

And furthermore- Bill remembers some parts of what happened, judging by the text that wasn't blocked out, which does line up with how the memory gun works-- at the end of the clip, McGucket makes a reference to Bill himself, the very thing he wanted to forget.

And wouldn't that be another instance of some kind of damaging cycle? Something took away Bill's memories, now Bill has stolen the memories of another? I know, I know, it's kind of a long shot.

But you have to admit, it is interesting to think about.

Now, there might be one final thing you might be wanting from me.

If Bill was someone's accomplice, who is the bigger fish?

And to that I say...

I have no fucking idea.

Not a single clue. Bill says on his "weaknesses" page that anyone whose figured out his weaknesses haven't lived to tell the tale, but that's already verifiably false with Stan still being alive, and with the added bonus of his memory possibly being tampered with... are we sure?

I'm... not sure if the thisisnotawabsitedotcom.com lost files will have anything to do with Euclidia or not. I'm not sure what they'll be at all, honestly.

But at the end of the day, I do think this theory holds some sort of ground and is an interesting angle (pun intended) of looking at Bill's past.

Hope you all liked the theorizing, folks! Let's all wait for that countdown!!

[devoutvesta]

i do not think its wrong to ship billford, here’s why

1) reevaluate the way in which you consume media. no one is shipping something because its their ideal for a perfect, romantic relationship. it’s not that black and white. that’s never been the point of shipping.

2) these tropes are nothing new, and have been beloved by ancient audiences for the same reasons it’s beloved today. whether it’s an imbalanced power dynamic, specifically god x mortal, a shared history, or mutual obsession.

3) for centuries, people have enjoyed navigating complicated and unhealthy emotional dynamics. especially when said ship can not exist in a healthy way. ford either hates or worships a much stronger, less empathetic, ancient eldritch being that likewise either obsesses over him or sees him as a nuisance/pet. either way, they’re always on the other’s mind. they are both deeply flawed, and only they know the true extent of the other’s ugliness, and they still love them.

but there is that middle ground that we’ve seen in the journal pages, some domesticity and genuine, pure love for the other. it exists, abusive relationships are nuanced, they have their good and their bad. and billford had their good parts. why wouldn’t people want to make art about it? here is your reminder that creating art does not equate to justifying or fetishizing abuse. it can and has happened, but there are many people incapable of seeing how obvious it would be if billford’s abuse was actually being fetishized by its shippers. it is so easy to notice. and it isn’t what’s being done here.

that nuance is still present when people make billford fluff. billford did have fluffy moments. there was tenderness, vulnerability, and love in that relationship. it’s okay to acknowledge that. why do you expect all art of billford to be torture porn of ford? not everyone wants to write bill physically torturing ford over and over again, especially when there are other, less gory aspects of their relationship to explore, that only increase the emotional impact of the torture that follows.

the ship is canon and is meant to be acknowledged, alex hirsch has attempted to explore both the messed up parts and the happy parts of their dynamic multiple times. in the show, in the journal, and in the book of bill. why is it any different when a fan does it?

does the art have to be explicitly acknowledge the abuse and remove all nuance from bill’s character, reducing him to something simple and one dimensional whose only motivation is to hurt others, for you to accept it? abuse is not that black and white, abusers themselves are not that black and white. bill in particular definitely is not.

it seems like a disservice to the original work.

navigating the ugly parts of a very fucked-up relationship is something fascinating and enjoyable for artists. there is a lot of grief, anger, and probably every other toxic thing in the book for you to work with. it’s the same reason people wait impatiently for whumptober.

exploring their dynamic has also allowed many to put their own abusive relationships into perspective.

i remember someone on reddit saying, “they’re both broken people, rub them sharp edges together long enough and you’ll get a fire. it’s fun to write.” and i think that describes it perfectly.

[fiddlefordisms]

Canon Details and Analysis of Fiddleford McGucket Part 2

See the first part here

Let's flash-forward to what we know about Fiddleford after college. At some point, he got married to Emma May Dixon, and they had a son together (Tate McGucket), they live in Palo Alto, and Fiddleford seems to be self-employed: McGucket's Computermajigs. Now, don't get me wrong I enjoy Fiddauthor quite a lot (and I'll give some in-depth analysis and theorizing and thinking of possibilities about that particular relationship in that context at the very end), but I want to focus on Fiddleford's character and what we do know about his wife and child.

We know from Journal 3 that Fiddleford keeps a picture of his wife and son on his desk because he says it helps keep him "grounded." It's very important to note that this picture includes his wife - if they really wanted to imply that Fiddleford's relationship with his wife was on the rocks, they could've easily made it just a picture of his son. We know that Fiddleford must have had strong feelings for his wife because in the Gobblewonker episode of Gravity Falls, Old Man McGucket claims that when his wife left him, he built a pterodactyl-tron (building giant death robots is something he does when he's upset or wants attention). If he was wanting to leave that relationship, he would not have been upset about her leaving him.

In another page of Journal 3 when Fiddleford quits the portal project, Ford writes about how he should "go back to his doting family." This tells us that while Fiddleford and Emma May did have a fight over him not getting her a Christmas present, Ford still somehow had the impression that his family was "doting." I think it's important to point out that Fiddleford has been erasing his memories since the Gremloblin incident - and the fight scene with his wife happens very shortly before the big portal test. We know the memory-erasing gun has side effects. So, anytime Fiddleford "forgets" something should be looked at as highly suspect and indicative that his memory-erasing gun is affecting him.

We know that Fiddleford must have been a good father before he left to work on the portal for Ford via context clues. In the show, despite Tate's original home being in Palo Alto, Tate chose to pack up his things and live in Gravity Falls where his mentally-addled father now lives. He chose to do that and seeing what became of his father, even though he's the town's biggest embarrassment with a reputation for being a crazy old man - chose to stay. In Shmeb U Unlocked, we're informed that Tate is extremely intelligent and capable of predicting lottery numbers.

He could literally go anywhere he wanted if he wanted. And yet, he stays in Gravity Falls where his father lives. He must have really loved his father despite it being so hard with his father's mental state and the fact that he has every right to be angry that his father left. We know that Fiddleford must have really loved his son because of that picture on his desk, because much later even with all of his memory problems, he still remembers his son, and he's desperate to spend time with him, and in the end, they're able to repair their relationship and spend quality time together.

Now, let's talk about a couple of details that I think a lot of people overlook. During the stargazing scene in Journal 3, Fiddleford mentions offhand that he'd like a place where "the screen door ain't broken." I think this is a VERY interesting detail because it makes it sound like Fiddleford's business hadn't quite taken off yet and that he might have been struggling financially because he can't afford to get his door repaired.

This opens a doorway into a theory of mine that Fiddleford is being paid for his time as Ford's assistant. Now, we're not told this outright in Journal 3, but I think we can gather this from a little thing I like to call context clues. After all, Ford probably thought the exact nature of payment deals for his assistant didn't need to be included in his research and personal journal. There's nothing interesting about it. Additionally from a narrative standpoint, it might have come across as looking like Ford had to bribe Fiddleford to help him, and that's not the vibe they wanted for Fiddleford. They wanted to emphasize that these two are at the very least good friends and that Fiddleford is the type of person who will set aside his own personal projects and self-sacrifice to help a friend at a moment's notice.

We know from the show and Journal 3 that Ford was given grants to study the anomalies of Gravity Falls. Presumably, this money would not only cover the costs of field research equipment and a research base (the shack) but also money for a research assistant if needed.

Fiddleford's wife would have to be the most permissive, most doormat wife in THE HISTORY OF EVER to allow her husband to go up to Oregon to work on a project leaving her to not only take care of her son by herself but also have to pay all the bills and rent/mortgage by herself. We know this is not the case because she (rightly) did NOT let it slide that her husband forgot to get her a Christmas present.

Fiddleford would not have had much time to work on his own business while working on Ford's portal. At this point in his life, he has his mental faculties intact, he's proven time and again to be considerate and sweet (Alex Hirsch even refers to him as a sweet soul). He's big on making thoughtful gifts, he wants to help others (in Journal 3, he is seen fixing up the ferris wheel at the carnival where he meets Ivan, although it was definitely wrong - he had good intentions in wanting to help people with their bad memories, even in the show - Old Man McGucket shows up in the sap-hole with the dinosaurs having fixed a broken lantern - Fiddleford is exactly the type of person who would see a broken-down car on the side of the road and pull over and get out his toolbox and help that person out), and he loves his family very much. He would NOT let them go unsupported and floundering for themselves while in his right mind.

So, this leads me to believe that to help convince his wife to let him help his old college buddy with his project, he'd be getting paid for his help. Ford likely would've found this reasonable and might have suggested it himself if Fiddleford expressed wanting to help but not being able to leave his family without any support. It probably wasn't a lot, but it might have been a bit better than what he was currently drumming up via his own business. This could also be why Ford is so adamant about referring to Fiddleford as his assistant in the journals rather than his friend.

Do I think his wife might have still had some reservations about her husband going to Oregon and could be a fertile field for argument later? Yes. Absolutely. But I think the fact that she let him go in the first place and the fact that Fiddleford is self-employed rather than more conventionally employed generally shows that she was a supportive wife and trusted her husband.

I absolutely DO NOT think, as some have posited, that Fiddleford abandoned his wife and son (especially his son whom he dearly loves) to have a "Brokeback Mountain" situation with Stanford. That is a terrible misreading of Fiddleford's character AND the situation. Again, Fiddleford is the type of person who HELPS people, and how much more so for someone who is likely his best friend? Not only that, but his FIRST EVER friend. A friend who Fiddleford probably knows has been alone in Oregon for years and who also has a hard time making friends, a friend who probably doesn't call him enough because he's "busy" with his research (Ford even says in the journal that he "has no choice but to call Fiddleford"), a friend who is probably stubborn about asking for help who is asking HIM (the guy who helps) for help?

Fiddleford might even already be worried about him.

And this is a "project" - a project has a beginning and an end. Fiddleford was NOT expecting to stay in Gravity Falls. He was going to go there, help Ford, and then go back to his family whom he loves. I'm not saying complicated feelings couldn't have arisen (again, I am a Fiddauthor shipper), but I am saying that Fiddleford didn't go to Oregon because he was running away from marital problems with his wife (on an additional note - people are free to write what they want - But what is WITH bisexual erasure and villifying / ignoring female characters? I mean, just because she wasn't in the show or talked about much doesn't mean we should do female characters a disservice) and intending on cheating on her.

Because again - A) He loves his family (family photo on his desk which doesn't exactly scream "Make sweet love to me Ford") B) His anxiety issues C) His empathy - he doesn't have the narcissistic traits cheaters generally have D) He's likely Catholic and all the religious hang-ups with that - (also adultery being a sin is mentioned waaaaaay more than homosexuality) E) The hostile time period for queer folks.

Also, Stanford "I find romance baffling" (Journal 3 - stargazing scene) is probably one of the biggest indicators that no cheating went on (but I'll throw you "cheating Fiddleford" headcanoners a bone much later on in which I think a possible "cheating" scenario could have realistically occurred - and I'll tell you my reasons for why I personally don't believe that happened either, but I'll begrudgingly accept a "possibility" and let you guys go nuts with the idea.)

More to come in later parts.

[sage-nebula]

Mabel despises Bill, send post.

Okay, I'll say more than that.

One thing that I haven't seen people talk about (and that I've in fact seen some fan content ignore) is the fact that The Book of Bill makes it explicitly clear that Mabel Pines despises Bill Cipher as of the end of the series. I think there's a tendency to view Mabel as a bastion of love and forgiveness, and while it's true that Mabel does have a lot of love and kindness in her heart, a.) she's not actually an all-forgiving heroine (see: she never comes close to forgiving Gideon for attacking Dipper in "The Hand that Rocks the Mabel"), and b.) we're given explicit text on multiple pages in The Book of Bill that outline just how much she hates Bill and will actually do violence unto him (again) if she ever gets the chance. (Because remember, she got him in the eye with spray paint with extreme prejudice.)

We're first told about this when Bill recounts the story of how he visited Mabel's dreams days before Weirdmageddon in the hopes of making a deal. (Which, side note -- how was that possible? The unicorn hair spell was supposed to prevent that sort of thing from happening. I guess she must have been at a sleepover at Candy's or Grenda's house when this little dream jump occurred.) Bill at first gushes about how much he likes Mabel and would like to sway her to his side, but then:

"Unfortunately, her mind had Wanted posters of me everywhere -- just because I possessed her brother one time!"

Mabel wasn't a fan of Bill's even before "Sock Opera," but as of "Sock Opera" it seems that there's no chance of forgiveness from her for him. And this tracks; in "The Hand that Rocks the Mabel," Gideon treated her horribly. He pressured her into the initial date with him, and then continued to use public pressure and guilt trips in order to keep her locked into successive dates and a suffocating relationship that she couldn't escape from. He was emotionally manipulative, possessive, selfish, and cruel. Despite this, Mabel still felt bad for asking Dipper to break up with him on her behalf and initially went to the factory to apologize to Gideon, until she saw him attacking Dipper through the window. It was only at that point, when he attacked her brother, that Mabel's opinion on Gideon did a 180 and he was no longer worthy of any sympathy or forgiveness in her eyes. Regardless of how he treated her, it was hurting Dipper that Mabel could not forgive.

So it makes sense, then, that possessing Dipper would be the breaking point for Mabel with Bill, particularly considering the note that Bill left for her (and specifically for her, part of it was addressed to her) to find in the car on the way back from the play at the end, as revealed in Journal 3:

"Note to self: Possessing people is hilarious! To think of all the sensations I've been missing out on -- burning, stabbing, drowning. It's like a buffet tray of fun! Once I destroy that journal, I'll enjoy giving this body its grand finale -- by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind, and his mental form will wander in the mindscape forever. Want to join him, Shooting Star?"

(Yeah, I sure believe Bill that Mabel's a kid he likes. 😬 Maybe "likes" is more appropriate . . . even his lies are lies . . .)

So Bill possessed Dipper on purpose, threw his body down stairs, stabbed forks into his arms, poured soda into his eyes, slammed his hands in drawers, and then had planned to throw his body off a water tower, killing him in what would look like a suicide attempt. I don't think it's any wonder that after this, Bill crossed the point of no return in Mabel's mind. Bill recognizes as such by the time he's finished in her mind as well:

"That was it. She'd never make a deal with me."

It was why he had to possess Blendin in the first place and make up the lie about a way to extend the summer; because thanks to Craz and Xyler, he knew that Mabel was sad about summer ending, and that she could be tricked by someone she thought had a way of extending summer, like a time agent. Bill had to possess a known time agent, because Mabel wouldn't have believed anyone else could do it, and it had to be Blendin because Blendin wore goggles that obscured his eyes (and thanks to fighting against Bipper, Mabel knew how to look for possession eyes, and would never make a deal with Bill). Bill using Blendin to trick Mabel was calculated, and extremely so, because Mabel hates his guts because of what he did (and wanted to do) to her brother.

But it doesn't end there, because then we get to Mabel's letter. (And Dipper's as well, but mostly Mabel's.) Some might be thinking, well, if Mabel knew about Bill's backstory, she might regain some sympathy for him. However, I don't think that's the case . . . because Mabel does learn about Bill's backstory (or at least his history with Ford), and she doesn't feel sympathy for him. Ford's letter not only states that the entire family was reading the book when he exited his lab (and laughing so hard they were crying at it), but Mabel's letter in specific has her write this:

"Anyway, Bill seems to me like a super-needy ex."

We have all laughed and enjoyed this line because of how it further cements Billford as canon toxic old man yaoi, but think about what this means for a moment. This means that:

Mabel has read Bill's backstory, at least re: everything that went down between him and Ford and how heartbroken Bill was over it (she knows about O'Sadleys and the intergalactic Taco Bell incident)

She doesn't feel sympathy, in fact, she's calling him super-needy, which is insulting

Mabel isn't sympathetic toward Bill; she's patronizing. She's one step away from calling him cringe. Her "helpful tips" for how to move on are her condescending to him as she tells him to get the hell away from Ford -- and speaking of which, let's not forget that she says "if you're reading this from space or hell or wherever," indicating exactly where she thinks he very well could be. If she felt sympathetic toward him at all, knowing what she does about his past, I really doubt she'd think he'd be burning in hell.

Mabel ends her letter with this delightful gem.

"Anyway, Bill -- you tried to kill my brother. If I ever see you again, I'm doing this! [illustration of her biting him in half] Deal with it!"

There is no love for Bill Cipher in her heart. There is only a wish to sever him in half, preferably so that his precious eyeball is split in two, with her teeth.

Now, this is in her letter. But we also get some of this in Dipper's letter, too, since she interjects over there. Dipper also delivers a death threat to Bill, and Mabel comments on it. Her commentary praises Dipper's threats (and confident in making his threat):

Dipper: "Come at us again and I'll end you." Mabel: "Wow, Dipper!! So confident!!" Dipper: "Was it . . . was it too confident?" Mabel: "No, it was just right! 13 looks good on you!"

Now, again, this is mostly praising his confidence. But the "it was just right" could also apply to the threat, considering she made a very similar one herself. Many people focus on Dipper's threat to Bill, considering how cutthroat Dipper seemed toward Bill in the show (and how it was their relationship that was focused on because Dipper was the primary protagonist).

But this book has made it explicitly clear that Mabel hates Bill's flat yellow ass with her entire sparkly heart. She wants him away from her grunkle because she knows how badly he treated Ford. And she especially wants to rip him to pieces herself if she ever sees him within a 100 mile radius of her brother again. The idea that Mabel would be forgiving of, or sympathetic to, Bill because of his backstory just doesn't jive with what we know both of her character or her actual, canonical feelings toward him as of the most recent canonical material. Mabel is a loving, kind person, yes -- but she has her limits, and those limits come with those that cause serious harm to her family, just like the rest of the Pines. She's not a two-dimensional, all-forgiving heroine. She's a well-rounded character who forgives when things are forgivable, when it's warranted, when it's deserved. And it's been demonstrated that in Mabel's eyes, certain things -- like trying to cut out her brother's tongue with lamb shears, or possessing him and threatening to throw his body off a water tower -- simply aren't forgivable.

[crystalandrose]

So my idea for my version of evil ford is that his timeline splits at the science fair incident. This ford was paranoid enough to know stanley would somehow fuck up his chance, so he fixes the machine and takes the toffee peanut bag as evidence (maybe he also pulls security footage). So ford makes it into his college and stan gets punished (but not kicked out). Stanley runs away of his own volition due to the anger at ford leaving him behind and also ratting him out to their parents. Stan partly wants to prove hes just as good as his brother and also wants to prove it to himself.

This means Ford never met Fiddleford in college. Instead, after getting a lot more grant money than from Backupsmore, he goes to Gravity Falls and works alone. Eventually, after he makes the deal with bill, he realizes he doesnt have enough experience making computer things (sourcing parts and such) to do this alone (even if bill is helping him). So he puts an ad for a research assistant good with computers. Perhaps some of this extra grant money went towards pay, and Fiddleford took the opportunity. But having no real connection to Fiddleford, Ford is more up to use him as a tool to get what he wants. So when Bill says his use is up and its time to get rid of him, Ford obliges.

Maybe since he went to this fancy college he had an easier time making connections or doing schooling quicker. So this extra time means he spends more time in partnership with bill and the connections make it easier for him to make side money he can also funnel into the portal project.

This Ford also learns more about Bill's backstory because he connects more to Bill (disconnect from family, not feeling recognized, wanting a home with people that get him/etc). So this guy is more sympathetic and knows more about Bill's desires (create a nightmare realm). Maybe Ford rationalizes it as a good thing or thinks he can talk Bill out of some destruction, or maybe at this point he wants some revenge on the world himself. So hes still on board with the portal when Bill reveals its actual purpose.

However, maybe Stanley needs another place to sleep on the couch at and sees his brother in some headline or mentioned as an inventor for some product. Or his brother needs a test dummy that can speak for the portal so he calls him. Or maybe Ford wants to potentially say his last goodbyes before he goes into what he knows is potentially the end of earth.

Fight still happens, Ford wants Stanley to thank him for money hes sent the family, for not completely ostracizing him from the family after what he did, offering him a place to stay, idk. Ford fights him, Bill possesses Ford at some point as another try to prevent Ford from getting sucked into the portal. This freaks Stan out and he pushes him. Ford, holding journal 3 (which does not have pages ripped out), chucks it at stans head (not to help him but to literally hurt him). Stan is like "wtf did i just do" and shuts the portal down, reads through the journals and thinks Ford is unwillingly possessed by a demon and spends his days trying to get him back.

Ford and Bill are now stuck in the portal, going through dimensions trying to get back to Earth in order to reopen the portal and finish what they started. I think Stan is fully anti-cipher-ified, planning on killing bill as soon as he shows up again in order to save his brother. Im thinking this Dipper and Mabel got killed by zombies or something. So when Ford does get back, stan is there super unhinged and angry and somehow eventually kills bill, leaving no statue behind. Evil ford is like "wtf" and devastated, but keeps looking for a way to bring him back. Maybe this Bill, having not gained sympathy from the axolotl, decides hes not worth rehabilitation and so hes actually dead in this reality.

(Then "canon" bill opens up a reality rift and evil ford comes through, hoorah)

[basilthesnakingthing]

I love how the book of bill turns Letting The Triangle Into Your Dimension into more of a moral dilemma than it was in the show, or even Journal 3. “To Bill this is only a game, but to us, it would mean the end of the world.” Except that actually, to Bill it’s his home, and it’s the ragtag gang of scrappy orphan rascals that he took charge of, gave purpose to, and became the protector/leader of, and all of their lives at stake. He tried to brush it off, but it seems like he genuinely feels responsible for them. They’re scared. Of course, they’re still criminals. If you did let them in, they would wreck your home and end/ruin lots of people’s lives, and that would be wrong. But just leaving them to die feels messed up.

I love that the book humanizes Bill without trying to convince you that anything he did wasn’t as bad as we thought. (Well, Bill is constantly trying to tell you that, but we’re all very well aware that he’s an unreliable narrator.) But he doesn’t know how the Edge of the Nightmare Realm came about. He gets defensive. (this was touched on in weirdmageddon, but I don’t see nearly enough people talking about how he can’t take what he dishes.) He’s not some master manipulator who knows you inside and out, better than you could ever know yourself or him, he just scans some of your memories for some stuff you might care about and runs with it. The only reason it worked so well with Ford was because they already had similar trauma and compatible personalities. I honestly think that if Bill had just told the truth about the true purpose of the portal that they would have been great friends. Ford -knowing what would happen this time- wouldn’t have ever tried to build the portal, but he would help Bill problem-solve to find a way to not be eaten by the Edge. Bill could get him all the information, and the context, and the what the living there was like without ever getting interdimensional travel involved, because you know he could, and then nothing bad would’ve happened, and how it really went was fucking tragic.

I love that we get even more psychological horror journal pages, even more intense than Journal 3 had. And I love that it shows us that Bill made a mistake and the consequences of it were so traumatic that his memories of that day are repressed. He’s just . . a guy. Who has too much power how ill adjusted he is.

But I am deeply annoyed at how Bill all but told us that his relationship to Ford was romantic in nature. I maintain that Ford never thought of Bill in a romantic way, because he is aroace. It’s very clear in the show, but especially in Journal 3. Anyone who tells you otherwise either has no reading comprehension skills or is retconning something. But I can’t deny that Bill clearly outlined how he would court someone, and that he has done those things to Ford. Can I pretend that was just him screwing with us because he knew we would come to that conclusion? *deep dramatic sigh* Probably not because of how how he acted when he was drunk. To yoose guys this is delightful, I know, but to me all the stuff above that I said I did like were enough to make this a fascinating dynamic. The romance part is just kind of there. All inconveniently. Making it feel less interesting and meaningful.

Will definitely do an essay on what the book of Bill implies about Billy’s home world at some point. Might make a comic about The Good Timeline where Bill was honest to begin with.

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: May 14, 2024 🎀

Tuesday was a slow day turned long day. I was supposed to go into work from 10 to 2 and then they asked me to stay for the night shift so I needed up working 10 to 7:30, with an hour break. So my 4 hour shift turned into an 8.5 hour shift. I was so tired when I got home last night that I showered, did skincare, and fell asleep.

🩷 What I Accomplished

completed a 7 min abs workout video, an 8 min ans and arms video (did not like it), and half of a 5 min abs video. so about 17 minutes of a workout overall.

read and annotated like, 3 or 4 pages of Atmoic Habits

had a really yummy "snack box" breakfast (it was 41 grams of protein and uggghh so yummy)

did my morning journal and morning skincare

walked over 11k steps (I didn't check the exact number but my watch notified me)

worked an ~8.5 hour shift

did my full night skincare routine

💞 Good Things That Happened

checked my final grades and I passed my classes with all A's! This is the first spring semester I've ever done that!

my GPA also went up a little bit so that's exciting!

I tried some of the potatoes they were serving at my work in the evening, and they were so delicious

my dad told me he was so proud of me for how hard I worked and my grades this last semester, I could've cried

💗 Stuff For Wednesday

study Spanish!!! I have an italki lesson on Tuesday the 21st at 9am so I need to get on my study grind!!

read and annotate Atomic Habits a little bit

wash my comforter and other blanket

wash my laundry and put away

finally cook my meal prep dinner (chicken, mashed potatoes, and brocooli!)

perhaps attempt to bleach/dye my hair again (I tried on Sunday and the bleach didn't do much so I need to do it again, I'm trying to dye parts of my hair pink at the moment)

do my morning + night skincare

I woke up sore today (wednesday), which I think is partially due to the 8 min abs and arm workout that I did not enjoy. Like it's a more painful kind of sore, so yeah, taking that video out of my rotation.

💕 Song of The Day: NewJeans - Super Shy

I love summer time kpop music. that super girly, feminine summertime bops are everything!! I should make a summer vibes playlist omg.

til next time lovelies 🩷

[imrllytootiredforthis]

I know you're on hiatus So you don't have to answer this now if you don't want to. Take your time. But this idea just popped in my head and I gotta tell you before it forgot about it.

So sub yandere jisung who has a crush on you and has journal. He writes all of his fantasies about you in that journal because hes too shy to actually tell you how he feels. Many are very wholesome fantasies about you and him. Cooking/baking together, watching movies together, going on cute little dates. And then there are the "not so wholesome" fantasies, where he explains in great detail what he wants you to do to him. Pegging, bondage using toys on him and lots of other ✨️juicy✨️stuff. He hides his journal in his room hoping no one will find it, But one day he gets careless and leaves a it out in the open where you happen to find it. And when he discovers that you've found it and you read every single page of that journal he just crumbles.

-🐟anon

i literally just finished writing the sub yandere jisung hcs and THEN I READ THIS

OMFGGG

you would get complete whiplash reading that journal, the first page is just him gushing about how much he loves you and would do anything for you, a scenario where he confesses his undying love for you and imagines everything you could be,

the next page is ideas, notes about things you like and places you mentioned that interested you, like the museum or a restaurant you've wanted to try. it's filled with hearts and cute date ideas, a rating out of ten on how much he thinks you'd enjoy it,

and then the next page is straight up porn, damn boy would put us in shock with the filth he depicts on the page, imagining how it would feel for you to peg him, describing exactly how he would want it and the size dildo he wants (he's also ordered it, already all tied up in a pretty box in his closet, waiting for the day that you'll finally use it on him)

the next page is movies, date ideas with shows he thinks you'll like and one's that you've already said you like that he's planning to watch so he can talk to you about them<3

the next page is straight up sex toys he wishes you'd use on him. vibrators and dildos, cockrings and ropes, gags and lingerie (you don't really know if he wants you to wear it or him to, or even both of you to)

it goes back and forth, with each new page you'll never know what you'll get, the filthiest smut out there or the sweetest fluff. a scarily accurate recounting of how your body looks or a love song he's written for you

there's two options after you've read it really, put it back and pretend it never happened, act like you never found it and never ever bring it up to him

or confront him and fulfill some of the depraved perverted fantasies that he's written about...

his blush would be really cute if you did tell him, but he would either be absolutely mortified or maybe, secretly, deep down some part of him wanted you to find it, some part of him knew that leaving it out in the open would result in you finding it

and the same part of him would sing and gloat in pleasure as you make him act out just how he would ride your thigh like he wrote in the margins of his journal

--

anyway, yes, sub yandere jisung hc will probably be out soon and i dunno who i'll do next yet but we'll find out soon enough

(also isn't there a song where the singer talks about finding someone's journal at their house, something like, 'read those pages, you really love me baby?' or smth? idk, i could be tripping)

[aemondslefteyeball]

In The Flat Field (3)

Masterlist Future!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Gore, traumatic c-section, spooky shit, death, gun usage

Summary: Aemond and Y/N have entered an ancient Library at their own peril. Galaxies away from home with no possibility for communication with people they know, they are stranded in an ever-worsening situation.

Word Count: 3.9K

Camera eye flick shudder within

The smell of mildew and maple syrup clung heavily to the air as you and Aemond idled through the library. In this section old books sweetly scented the air despite their rough state. But it was silent and that gave you a minute amount of comfort. “It was like, bottled books but they snitch you out to the Lords if you open them.” You explained, half wondering why you were adopting the terminology of a madman. You flipped through the pages of the journal as you continued onwards, keeping your steps light. 

“And what was the… Lord like?” Aemond questioned, his eye boring into the left side of your face. He lowered his gaze to glance at the page you were skimming. After you finish a half-coherent line you purse your lips in consideration for a moment. 

“You know how when you’re a child you want to pet a dinosaur so badly?” You questioned. “But then you get to Jurassia III and realize that you’re actually good staying behind the plexiglass? Sort of like that.”

“I meant what did it look like” He stated, amusement pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh.” You considered for a moment. “Well it changes color, sort of like those octopuses off the coast of Myr.” You considered for another moment, almost wishing you had a cybernetic implant yourself. “Maybe a little under 3 meters tall, but it puts off this weird sort of energy.” You tensed at the memory. 

“What, like bad vibes?” He teased.

“No.” You shook your head, slipping the journal back into your bag before Aemond zipped up the pocket for you. “Thanks. It’s like a… you just get a general feeling of what the Lord is feeling as well. Directly in your brain whether you want it or not.” 

“Do you think it could be pheromone based?”

“I don’t think so, I know it sounds silly but it felt how psychic abilities are described.” Aemond paused to consider for a moment, implant flashing yellow as he glanced at you. 

“They must be a social species then.” You hummed in agreement.

“I’m not sure if their vocal cords are as developed as ours are though. It just kind of wheezed and clicked at me. Sounded like your Dad on a bad day.” Aemond smirked at that for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Is there anything interesting in the journal?” You shrugged in response to his question, lifting one hand in a 50/50 motion. 

“What is actually decipherable is still kinda crazy. The dude thought parts of this library would eat him.” 

“Mmm,” Aemond responded, a wry chuckle following. “With everything that’s happened so far, I’m not so sure we can count out being eaten by some books.” He pointed out. You rolled your eyes playfully in response before reaching to grab one off a shelf, opening it to mimic the snapping of jaws and guiding it closer to an unamused Aemond. 

“No,” You giggled. “A row that eats you, apparently. Much better, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.” He responded with raised brows, gently grabbing the book from your hands as the two of you stopped momentarily. He flipped open the pages and you leaned in close to him, following the same path his eyes were. As the two of you stared down at the book the letters shifted from an alien script into recognizable letters. The common tongue. Unease filled you for a moment and apparently, Aemond took notice of it, as he gently brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. You hoped you weren’t blushing. “If you aren’t shedding all over Vhagar, you’re blocking my view.” He teased, his fingers lingering where your neck met your jaw for a few more moments. You shifted your weight on your feet before he snapped out of it and started reading. 

“Jungfrau?”

“Jungfrau.” Aemond corrected, a yellow light blinking onto the pages briefly. You gave him a pointed look, raising a brow. “Another word for virgin.” You hummed curiously, taking a closer look at the page. An androgynous man rippled across the page, shining chestnut curls seeming to radiate their own light as his features shifted. You chalked it up to the book and looked at the glimmering aura around him. It shone with every color of the rainbow and some you weren’t even sure you could comprehend. For the hundredth time, you questioned whether you were on some sort of psychoactive substance before pulling your eyes away from the man’s aura to look at the text. “Apparently he’s the Dreamweaver,” Aemond said softly, turning the page to read more. For your part, you were grateful there were no more portraits of him. As beautiful as he was, it weirded you out. “But he can also bestow magical swords upon people.” You pulled your lips back approvingly before nodding. 

“Be nice if he bestowed one on us.” Aemond let out a dry laugh in response. 

“And what good would we do with a sword against a 3-meter tall shapeshifting monster.” 

“Well, it’s a magic sword, Aemond.” You said, leaning into the ridiculousness. “Maybe you hold it up and say some magic password then you get, like, an outfit change and your hair gets even more fabulous..” 

“Ha ha.” Aemond cut you off before you could finish, gesturing to the pistol that still sat on his hip. “This will be more useful than any magic sword.” 

“Oh, speaking of.” You murmured before grabbing yours, releasing it so the clip fell out. “Do you need any more ammo?” Aemond hummed approvingly before you pulled out a few bullets from the magazine, passing them to him so he could load them into the pistol. “Is it like shooting a phaser?” You asked, Aemond looked at you for a moment before smirking. 

“Yes, which is why the thought of you holding one is terrifying.” You let out a mock gasp, playfully hitting his arm. 

“Your implant has what, a gazillion terabytes of data but apparently no manners in the default program.” 

“Oh, no, it did,” Aemond responded, a wolfish grin splitting across his face. “I deleted them so I could save room for more important things, such as the time you shook a Whituan’s knee.” You let out a dry laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“Worst damn part about that thing, you’ll never let either of us forget any time I embarrass myself.” Aemond chuckled in good humor, putting an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer, giving you a light squeeze. 

“It’s adorable that you think I’d need the implant to do that.” You flipped him off in response and he stared at you for a moment before a red light flashed out of his implant. Concern twisted across your face as you reached to touch it. Aemond pulled back. “We ought to keep moving.” He said abruptly. 

“Uhh..” You let the silence hang in the air for a moment. “Are we going to talk about this?” Aemond shot you a weary look as he started walking towards a new row. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. Your implant’s usually got a green light.” 

“It’s just the distress beacon.” He responded curtly. “My implant keeps trying to send it out but it’s unsuccessful so now it’s doing this. I plan to recalibrate it when we get back to the room.” A lie. You pursed your lips in response, figuring it was better to let it be for now. You could grill him later. You absentmindedly wondered if he knew you knew he was lying, but judging from the speed he kept up it was likely. You decide to let him squirm a little longer, figuring that if he could lie to your face he could enjoy the nervousness. You put your hand up to Aemond’s chest suddenly, pausing where the two of you were. A rhythmic thudding could be heard in the distance and you knit your brows in confusion. It was different from the Lord’s footfalls, at least the one that you encountered. Either way you figured caution was best. You and Aemond ducked behind a row as you moved to peek your head out in the direction of the noise. Aemond tutted disapprovingly and placed an arm around your waist, swapping places with you. You shot him a look before he shot you one in turn. Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced. 

“Can your eye pick up on anything from this distance?” Keeping your voice in a low whisper, you rested a hand on his left shoulder blade. He nodded, looking for a few more seconds. Your watch pulsed quietly against your wrist as the transmitted image popped up. Okay, so it was too small to be a Lord. But that didn’t necessarily bode well either. “Should we check it out?” Aemond set his jaw for a moment before nodding. He reached to grab his pistol and you reached for yours in turn. The two of you shared a brief look and Aemond moved to step into the row before you paused. Gesturing for him to wait a second you holstered the pistol once more then pulled out the map of the library from your backpack and grabbed the journal, making quick work of scanning them into your watch. Imposing the madman’s notes on the map, you saved the complete version before transmitting the data to Aemond. You figured he already had a download of the map but the former resident’s notes may be useful. With that done the two of you stepped out from behind the row, grabbing your pistol once more and keeping it pointed at the floor. The Archaeologist’s Guild leaned on weaponry only for self-defense but the two of you figured a creepy library with shapeshifting monsters in it justified staying armed. Stopping behind each row to scope out the humanoid you were shocked after a few more rows to find… a human man. It almost took you off guard more than a miniature Lord would. What was even worse was the Guild uniform he wore. You shot an unsure look at Aemond before he tilted his head to keep going. When you checked through the logs before heading out into Juliet Quadrant only a few Archaeologists had actually been there. A few had gone missing. The two of you figured it was the usual and that they had found a planet to settle down on or died due to catastrophic ship failure but the idea that one of them ended up here was even worse. 

“Y/N.” Aemond whispered, his right eye widening. You looked over towards him before your watch pulsed against your wrist. The two of you knew him. Not well, but you had bumped into each other at a few fundraisers that required you to kiss sponsor ass. You swallowed hard before running your lips over your teeth, praying he had some answers for whatever the hell was going on here. As the two of you approached your colleague he seemed ignorant of your presence, picking books up off the shelf, flipping through the pages, and dropping them into what remained of the sack on his shoulder. Without fail they fell out of the large hole in the bottom and onto the ground, resulting in the heavy thudding you heard earlier. Aemond held an arm out in front of you when you were a few paces away, hesitantly holstering his pistol. Following suit, you lowered Aemonds arm but held onto his hand. 

“Tommen?” You questioned. He looked worse for wear but was still recognizable. Gray, matted curls hung around his face before he turned to look at the two of you. You let out a gasp of horror. An unnaturally wide grin split his face as he glanced at the two of you momentarily before he turned back to the shelf, grabbing the next book to drop it on the floor. 

“Tommen,” Aemond stated more firmly, but the man in question continued in his movements. The two of you shared a look at each other as the automaton dropped another book. “Do you know where you are?” 

“Library” He didn’t stop his actions, the Cheshire grin looking painful across his face. “Lords.” You couldn’t honestly say that you had enjoyed too much of your time in the library but this pushed it to a whole new level of unsettling. 

“Do you know how you got here?” You questioned lightly, running your eyes up and down his emaciated frame. Gods, what in the seven hells had this place done to him? And what would it do to us? Tommen’s movements slowed briefly, yet did not stop. His face contorted slightly around the unnatural grin that split his features, looking unable to properly form the words needed.

“Found.” He rasped out, voice gravelly from what seemed to be years of disuse. You shot a worried look at Aemond, who seemed much more collected than you. Was this your fate if you stayed in the library too long? He wasn’t even blinking. Just dropping another book with another ominous thud. “Crrrhhhhhhh” He wheezed out, mouth unable to move to form whatever word he was thinking of. 

“Tommen.” Aemond said, his voice having a dangerous edge to it. You glanced over at him and saw unease flickering in the back of his eye. “We need to leave this place. You need to leave this place.” Tommen ignored him, making a few more wheezing sounds before Aemond lost his patience and closed the distance between them, grabbing him by the arm. “It’s dangerous here.” Distress flickered across the shriveled man’s face despite the unsettling smile carved into it and he tried to reach for another book to no avail. “Walk.” Aemond commanded and for his part, Tommen did, though it was with an unnatural gait. His steps didn’t match the rhythm of your footfalls, adding to the tension. You knew the two of you couldn’t leave him behind but you were wondering how much of Tommen was still in there. “Do you know anything about the Lords?” Aemond questioned, ignoring the look you shot him. 

“Lords.” He responded with a low wheeze, apparently unable or willing to answer Aemond’s questions. His uniform was raggedy, but the tatters of it that did cling to him reeked to high heaven. BO and something else that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Did you leave the box back in the room?” Aemond prodded as you shook your head. Tommen shuffled along, not answering. “Did you see the map?” His tone was growing more irritated with the old man. 

“Aemond. Maybe that’s enough questions for now.” You suggested, keeping your tone gentle with a slight edge to it. 

“Keeeeepp” The man wheezed out between cracked, rotting teeth “eeeeerrrrrr” Aemond was clearly trying to refrain from shooting you a smug look. The three of you continued onward as the man went back to silence. But thankfully he seemed to stink less as you progressed. That or you were becoming nose-blind to it. If you didn’t know better you would almost say it was starting to smell like maple syrup more, but with a slightly herbier edge to it. You looked over to Aemond wondering if he smelled that too, apparently so as he sniffed the air before shooting a wary look at you. Tommen started to let out more wheezes as the scent of maple hung heavier in the air. You shot a look back to Aemond, a deep pit of anxiety forming in your gut. You stopped for a moment, grabbing Tommen as he let out an excited warble. Between his wheezes, you heard the heavy footfalls that sent primordial terror through you. Looking at Aemond, you mouthed what you could tell he was starting to fear too. A Lord. 

“Creation!” Tommen explained, his mouth struggling to form the words as his cloudy, unblinking green eyes lit up. “The Keeper knew!” He started laughing as loud as possible, the sound barely being muffled when you clapped your hand over his mouth. With madness in his eyes Tommen started to scream about whatever incoherent thoughts he could muster, you looked to Aemond before the two of you nodded at each other. Letting go of Tommen, you pushed him back only for him to start screaming ecstatically. The two of you drew your pistols before you booked it in the other direction. Heavy footsteps grew closer as Tommen stumbled towards you two, still shrieking. Aemond moved to raise the barrel of the weapon in Tommen’s direction before you put a hand over his wrist, shaking your head. Tommen still stumbled after you two as quickly as was possible for him, cackling and shrieking simultaneously. As much as you were against the idea of killing a fellow Guild member, you wished you had a gag on hand to at least shut him the hells up. Thankfully you and Aemond had speed on your side and at least with Tommen’s screaming it provided a cover for your footfalls. You ducked behind a row momentarily to catch your breath, peeking back behind you to see Tommen stumbling as the Lord gained after him. It didn’t appear to be the same one you initially encountered but was around the same height as the other, the same clicking noises emerging as deep blues and reds bled into the all-consuming grayness of its body. An overwhelming sense of thrill wriggled its way into your mind as the creature advanced, catching up with Tommen. You and Aemond looked at each other for a moment, and you clicked your safety off. No sooner than you could do that had the Lord slapped the old man into a bookshelf, unable to restrain the gasp of horror as he knocked his head on the edge. Tommen’s jaw barely clung on and it did little to stop his shrieks, just interrupted them with gurgles of quickly coagulating blood. The Guild member tried in vain to lift the ruined left side of his jaw back to where it had been attached. Despite that, he dropped and the light began to fade from his crusted eyes. Apparently having heard your gasp, the Lord looked over in your direction. Shakingly raising a hand you cleared your mind and pulled the trigger three times.

 Miss

 Miss

Miss. 

Okay, maybe Aemond did have a point about your phaser skills. Thankfully he wasn’t going to gloat about it, and he did not miss. Yet despite hitting the being in what you assumed to be the eyeholes it continued on as if nothing happened. You put your pistol back into the holster as you started to run in the opposite direction. Without Tommen to cause a distraction there was no doubt it would have an easier time chasing the two of you down now. You ran until every muscle in your body burned and Aemond pulled you into one of the spots that Tommen had emptied with his antics earlier. He gestured to your wrist, having pinged onto the spot where the madman had marked the man-eating row. It would require a lot more running but given bullets seemed little more than an annoyance to the being it was your best bet. You nodded as you started running in that direction, refusing to look back as you pushed your body beyond its natural limits. You knew exhaustion would hit hard later but for now if you tired you would die. After what felt like an hour you were approaching the area and banked suddenly to the right as Aemond shifted to follow in your path. You took the row next to it as heavy footsteps gained on the two of you but you simply pumped your arms faster and refused to look back. When you finally got to the far end of the man-eating row you took a second to catch your breath before yelling. Whatever you could do to draw it into the row, you simply had to. Putting two fingers in your mouth you remembered a whistle your Dad had taught you as a little girl. You grew up on a planet that was mostly covered in water, and the landmasses that were there were covered in thousands of turquoise lakes. Ionic clouds interfered with radio signals so whistles were used by fishermen to communicate across the lakes. You blew as hard as you could, your heart dropping as the Lord looked to be following the path the two of you had taken there. Looking at Aemond, you glanced back over at the heavy wooden shelves. 

“We have to climb.” You panted out, reaching to pop a foot on the lowest shelf available before getting a handhold and hoisting yourself up. Aemond simply looked at you like you were insane. “It said not to step foot in the row.” You argued, and at the very least it hadn’t eaten you yet. You moved further upward, your arms burning as you hauled yourself up. Aemond followed suit as you moved closer to the middle of the row. When the Lord emerged where the two of you had been, it looked around in confusion momentarily and your heart dropped further. If the madman was wrong about this you were at perfect grabbing height for the creature. It would be like a shopper picking their preferred snack off the grocery shelf. As you moved right and up you stopped for a second to grab a book and throw it down onto the floor. An overwhelming sense of delight filled you as the Lord bounded two paces into the row. But when it did it let out a piercing shriek. Aemond pulled you into a crevice he had cleared for the two of you and you watched the Lord struggle against whatever had it. But the predator of your predator wasn’t so keen on letting up and a surprisingly hollow crack filled the air as the creature's leg was snapped clean off. Going into a frenzy, you acutely felt the Lord’s fear and rage as it slammed into the shelf opposite yours with enough force to send it wobbling. As the creature thrashed continually the other leg met the same fate. Aemond put an arm around you and pulled you as far into himself as he possibly could, pressing your backs flat against the wall of the shelving. The shelves on the other side wobbled again and toppled over in the opposite direction as the massive creature fell, an otherworldly shrieking filling the air. As the torso started to tear open a bright image was cast above the being. A woman with hair as silver as the moon was being cut open by a dagger, the rippled metal seeming to swallow the light. The creature screamed and you clapped your hands over your ears, Aemond moved to cover your eyes but you shook your head before he could. He moved to gently rub between your shoulder blades. A man dressed in dark green and red reached into the woman’s bulging belly and pulled out a slimy, scaly thing. The creature and the woman seemed to wail in unison, oil spill and red blood pouring out as they grew softer in volume. The man cleared the slime away from the little creature and you watched as it spread its wings. Shrieks softened until there was little more than gurgling with intermittent clicks, but up until the bitter end, you felt every depth of emotion the Lord did. Whatever cosmic abomination had brought forth that scene had disappeared with the dead creature. When you lowered your hands from your ears they shook before Aemond gathered them in his own. You lay your head on his shoulder, happy that at least the sea of emotions within you now were yours.

Taglist: @chainsawsangel

[povivekara]

Rival

1/3

OC(in your pov) x Neteyam

Word count: 1,173

Summary:

You and Neteyam are rivals. You two always compete with each other, trying to beat one another. It was so satisfying for you when you beat him, your hands on your hips, a smug grin plastered all over your face, shoving it in as he desperately tried to think of a come back.

It’s been 3 years since the RDA had attacked again, and you have reached the age where most na’vi have mates. Although, you don’t have one, and your parents are pressuring you to get one.

The worst part is, that if you don’t find one soon, deals will be made and you are to be mated with your RIVAL. Ever since you were young, your parents and the Toruk Makto and his wife have yearned for you and Neteyam to be mated (unless you and Neteyam already have your own mates).

You and Neteyam have learnt of this, and you both are desperate to find a mate on time. Unfortunately, luck isn’t on any of your side.

Random day in 2173

You stroll through the forests, trying so hard not to just turn around and go back. Kiri told you that taking a walk would improve your stress levels.

To you, this was just making it worse. You had so much to do, so much weight on your shoulders, and all of it was just making your stress reach its peak.

You tried to think of things to calm you down, like that one time you learnt how to ride an ikran before Neteyam, and how proud of yourself you were.

That’s when your thoughts shifted to Neteyam.

You were thinking about all those times you beat him, and how satisfying it was to see that one look on his face when you did.

You always thought of when he beat you, and how you just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. And also to the times where you weren’t competing or anything just oddly… being friends.

You remember that one look he gave you when you had pissed him off but his father, the Toruk Makto, was calling him and he couldn’t do anything.

His jaw clenched, he gave you that one glare and he gave you a Quick Look up and down before walking off to his father. You never wanted to admit it, but that was quite attractive.

You smile without realizing, feeling all giddy as you bit your lip. You felt a big hand reach your shoulder, sending you into a shock and a snap back into reality.

Neteyam bent forwards to reach your level from behind you, and leaned into your ear, whispering; “did the mighty warrior scare you? I felt your flinch.”

You turned around, immediately recognizing his voice.

“What is it you want, Neteyam?” You asked, raising an non-existent eyebrow and folding your arms.

He handed you a journal full of lists of herbs. “Kiri asked me to give you this.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You replied, flipping through the delicate pages worth of notes.

Neteyam stared at you, walking beside you as you flipped through the pages. It was obvious he was bored by the fact he was still beside you. Neteyam slowly put an arm around your shoulder, looking down at the journal as well.

You put the journal in his hands, as you found the right page. “Read out the list of ingredients for me.”

He did as you said.

You ventured through the forest, looking for each ingredient that he read out. You were now on the last ingredient, looking through every bush and branch.

“Txana..” Neteyam called.

You turned around to see Neteyam holding a slightly poisonous fruit in his hands. What concerned you is that he decided to take a bite out of it.

You rushed up to him, taking the fruit and dropping it onto the ground. He just knew what to do to stress you out.

“Why didn’t you ask me if this was safe to eat?!” You yelled in frustration, pacing around him, running your soft fingers all over his body, trying to find the rash.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Neteyam asked, looking at her as she placed her hands on him.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t anything too bad. This is just gonna give you a big rash.” You sigh, as the rash slowly started to appear on his chest.

You grab his wrist and lead him somewhere near a stream and sat him down on a rock. “Why would you eat it?”

“It looked good, okay?” Neteyam looked away, embarrassed.

You huff out of annoyance as you grab some of the herbs, mush it up and all that and heal his rash.

For some reason, you felt Neteyam’s eyes on you the entire time you treated the rash on his chest. “Did you find a mate yet?” You ask, looking up at him and meeting his gaze.

“No. Have you?” Neteyam mumbled, as you finished up. He stood up from the rock as he watched you clear everything up.

“Not much luck yet.” You reply, standing on your tippy toes as you inspect his face. “Are you feeling anything?”

Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat as you inspected. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, and your lips. Neteyam finally shifted back to reality, “I’m fine.”

Neteyam returned back to the hut after a long day.

Lo’ak walks in, grinning from ear to ear. He watched carefully as Neteyam stretched his arms and yawns. “How was it?”

“How was what?” Neteyam asks, clearly confused as he sets himself down on a snonivi (hammock).

“Your walk with your girlfriend.” Lo’ak says in a teasing manner, placing his hands on his hips.

“She isn’t my girlfriend, baby brother.” Neteyam looks up at Lo’ak.

“Whatever you say, Teyam.”

The next following day

You walk into a tent, as the clan’s tsahik, Mo’at, called you.

Your eyes darted around the room as you saw Lo’ak being treated by Mo’at, another Na’vi warrior about the same age being treated by Kiri, and Neteyam who locked eyes with you.

“Tsahik, why did you need me?” You ask, as she turns around by the sound of your voice.

“Ah, Yawne (beloved), I need an extra hand to help my grandson, Neteyam.” Mo’at smiled, before turning her attention back to the na’vi warrior.

You nodded and went up to Neteyam, getting on your knees. “Where were you injured, youcareless skxawng?”

“Hey, don’t call me careless. This is a sign of bravery.” Neteyam said.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Where were you injured.” You say firmly, annoyed.

“On my back and on my chest.”

You took some dapophet and slowly but cautiously rubbed it where his injury on his back was, making sure it stung.

“Ow, ow.. ouch.” Neteyam groans.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” you mutter. “Anyways, how’d you get injured?”

Neteyam was relieved as you finally finished up on his back. “Me, Lo’ak and another warrior were hunting and got attacked by a herd of yerik (type of pandoran deer).”

You can picture that, probably hurt. You put your hand on his chest and push down, making him lay over.

You grab some more dapophet and other herbs as you slowly start to treat his chest.

You mix some of the ingredients with the dapophet so it would sting less. Your fingers trace along the large cut, as you lock eyes with him again.

“Does it still sting?” You ask.

“No, thanks.” Neteyam answers.

You turned to your left to see Neteyam’s mother with yours, intently watching as you treat Neteyam. They chatted, and you knew well what they were talking about.

You look back down at Neteyam, trying to quickly finish up on his chest. After you were finished, “get up. I’m done.”

Neteyam sat upright, groaning as he did. You handed him a cup of tea.

You stand up, telling the tsahik and Kiri that you’re leaving, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

You decided that today you would find a mate. It had to be today.

To be continued

[kamiversee]

IK THIS ISNT GOING TO HAPPEN BUT I HAD SUCH A GOOD THOUGHT! Imagine this whole book was actually a movie that they were filming. So gojo, choso, sukuna, the reader and everyone else are just actors. So like when the book ends, it’s interrupted by a “Cut!” and then everybody js breaks character and start telling eachother great work and congratulating everyone for finally finishing this movie. And gojo and the reader are actually close friends so while everyone’s busy cleaning up and getting ready to go home, he asks her if she could get him his bag from his dressing room. She says sure and makes her way there. She enters the room and spots his bag, while picking it up, a book falls out. Originally, she was going to grab it and js place it back inside but her curiosity gets the best of her and she opens it. She realizes its a journal and while she’s skimming through it, shes giggling to herself at the first silly pages her best friend had written. But then she gets to a rather odd page. Covering the whole sheet, leaving no spaces of white whatsoever, is her name. Just her name. Over and over again. And it went on for atleast 4 pages. After turning the fourth page, she finds something very disturbing. The funny and silly man you knew as your good friend had written about how obsessed he was with you. He wrote that he would look forward to seeing you everyday, obsessed with your scent, hair, eyes, legs, hands, mouth, etc. Basically every single part of you. While you kept reading it, it js kept getting weirder and weirder. When you turned the page, there was hair taped to the book. YOUR hair. SEVERAL strands. Your face twisted in disgust and your hand flew to your mouth. There was more writing on the next page and smth disturbing had caught your eye at the end of the entry. “If you think about it, I really don’t have to do much acting for this role. Part of it is being an obsessive freak who would do anything for the woman he loves. And that’s exactly me. Can you really blame me? Look at her. Shes so pretty. Especially when she’s sleeping. But lately she’s been getting a little too close to Choso..i really don’t like that. But it’s fine! I’ve gotten rid of that problem already so i dont think he’ll be talking to her anymore..” Her eyes grow wide and you realize..Choso hasn’t been here these past few days. Someone had called in saying he was sick and wouldn’t be showing up for the last few scenes you guys had to film…that’s why you never grew worried. But now..now you know that choso was probably never sick. Oh god..was he..? Before you could finish your thought, someone broke you out of your trance. “what are you doing.” Your head slowly turned towards the door of your room and there stood gojo, lifeless, serious look on his face. You couldn’t speak. He continued to stare at you with dead eyes until he smiled at you. A wide creepy smile. “Guess you know my little secret now, huh? Sweets.”

GIRL WHY DID U JUST WRITE A WHOLE ASS SPINOFF?😭🙏 This was good wth?

& funny because I like to think of all my fics as movies that I’m directing & everyone’s just an actor💀

I do rlly love this concept tho, 10/10, ty for this <3

[shuobox]

Heyyyyy *twirls my hair as i make your happy canon life doomed by my narrative *

God. Rewrite aiden in my au. Where do i start w him

In my little rewrite version, he's like. His entire life is doomed from the start. Grew up with a neglectful and pushy family where he felt constantly scared and weak in, making him seek control in other parts of his life (why he's so aggressive and rude, later becoming outright violent)

During sky city, it's Lukas who's fighting against him on the bridge, and after a struggle and Aiden's whole shpeel about Lukas abandoning them (aiden, maya, gill) like nothing for the new order of the stone

Anyway . Copper golems (that belong to the founder) appear and latch onto the guy's legs, and yk the storm during that bridge scene? Yeah. The dude gets struck by lightning with the force of five dying neuron stars and then just... wobbles back and forth.... before the copper golems let go, and he falls off the side into the water

While the blazerods are stuck in Sky City as it is being rebuilt on the ground they find an opportunity to break out and they book it to the portal, get lost for a little bit in the Atlas (remade portal hallway. Imagine those images of like, illusion staircases where gravity is weird. And theres stairs and halls full of portals wherever you look. Like that.) And they pass into like the worst possible place ever that is just CRAWLING with illagers

They get trapped, thrown in jail, tortured a wee bit before maya and gill are taken dor experimentation and Aiden was supposed to be the next (his arms were already cut off, and he saw what became of maya and gill after they got experimented on) but two new arrivals were found so they decided to stop temporarily

I AM NNNOT going to continue the story from there . Because it includes another character and an oc i want to like. Build up towards

In any case, skipping ahead like a few pages when aiden manages to get out and is now travelling with 2 people (one of which is more than happy to use him as bait or a human shield), guy really just wants his arms back and feels stupid and scared without. Arms. Hes losing hope UNTIL they get to a certain dimension with a city full of these advanced redstone-loving folk

In aiden's endless luck they get into the equivalent of the black market and they find people willing to give aiden new limbs for free IF he agrees to the terms and conditions

... the terms and conditions were "we can freely experiment on ur ass for as long as we want :3" and thats. Yeah thats what the tinkerers did. They were super proud of themselves and even slapped on their logo on him

Aiden is completely useless at walking and using his mech spider legs for a long while till he eventually manages to grasp it enough to keep going. Hallelujah !! He eventually gets time to process everything that happens to him lol (he feels miserable for a while)

Other hcs down here vv

- enjoy embroidery. He's kind of shabby at it, but it takes his mind off of things. He also writes small anthology stories in a wee stolen journal he makes up when his mind drifts

- The jacket he's wearing is stolen, lmao

- when his jaw was ripped out and replaced, so was his teeth; they make a loud clank noise if he snaps his teeth. Like a beartrap!! Also a strong bite strength

- i like to think he made a small makeshift funeral for maya and gill despite having nothing of them. It helped him cope a lil

- is surprisingly kinder to kids who aren't like, loud, or overly annoying.

- misses having hands sometimes (misses being able to hold pencils normally, or feeling the fur of animals, or warmth and cold, or holding things, etc etc...)

- Loves fighting without a weapon in stupid amounts. He'll scrap w a skeleton for fun, and it's even easier with his edward scissorhands ass implants. The reason his jacket has that fire charge burn is because he got distracted with "playing" w a ghast

- in a similar fashion, likes play-fighting (i say play-fighting, but i mean like, full-on blood and bruises but without ill intent when i say fighting)

His fav mobs are creepers. Has attempted to get close to one before. In addition, really likes the nether as well.

- Given he can't yell as much anymore (though he will still be the loudest man on earth if something scares him) (think incyn from neocranium streams), he's overly condescening and sarcastic instead.

- His right pupil is all janked up because his face got slashed; the reason why was because he was trying to fight off the illagers that were taking Maya + Gill. Still believes he could've tried harder.

- occasionally loses sleep either because of adrenaline, stress, nightmares, or just because of his already abysmal sleep schedule.

^ not a morning person.

- is, in fact, still super competitive and will brag about any victory ever. Still learning not be a sore loser (its a work in progress, but its there)

- has dark humour in the sense he'll try and joke about things in the worst moments, also a bit grim or rude in the same way. He'll laugh about stupid shit in general, though.

^ when he laughs loud enough and for too long, steam will also come out his jaw vents/mouth (not to the same amount if he was to scream and overload his throat implant, its lighter and not as obtrusive)

- has a really good knack for stealing things and negotiating with traders. He likes doing it, too. He feels awfully proud of himself when he manages to pull it off.

- His little antenna thing at the side of his head emotes (whirrs up and down or twists slightly from side to side. Think warrior cat fanart or something.)

- can come off as rude (and he is, dont get me wrong), but sometimes it is just genuinely being blunt or like, brutally honest with his thoughts. He doesn't even do it intentionally, it just becomes a reflex lmfao

- Will ramble on about the history and art and process regarding architecture if he can. He'll get embarrassed about going off on a tangent for so long and will shut up but like a couple months later he will absolutely start up again

- likes using his mech spider legs to skewer zombies. Morbid stress relief, but it's still mildly satisfying to him.

- has a really bad fear of storms after the whole sky city thing; it makes him have what is essentially flashbacks to everything to the bridge fight and after it (aka, deaths of his previously closest friends). Feels similarly to copper golems and will like, discreetly knock them over or push them away using his mech-spider legs

- wont admit it for the life of him but actually really enjoys feeding birds. Wont say it because he feels like thats something people over the age of 60 do when they're having a late-life crisis.

- easy to annoy thanks to his temper

(Next design will be of a certain .,.. pumpkin-related lady ....)