#that will likely 80% change in the future though

[popfizzles]

I think I like Mousse being a little rough around the edges, and very "it's not like I like you or anything", but I'm not sure how much of an asshole I want them to be? I don't want them to be villain-coded or anything.

Gelati on the other hand... I think I like them being ditzy <:) maybe a little flighty? stupid but cute? they have trouble coming to correct conclusions.

[Send me 🖊 and a headcanon for one of my OCs and I'll tell you what I think!]

[rivilu]

disjointed fandom posting sorry but it just hit me that pwotr is like. the only rpg where a companion never once left my team

[highwaydiamonds]

I have come to the conclusion that the shawl I am knitting is going to be heinous most likely. Some of this is because Mistakes Have Been Made ™ but also because WOW😬 I get the feeling I have made some iNtErEsTiNg choices. Does this mean I am frogging back or starting over? Oh no. No, no, no. It just means I will pursue this nor for my own version of SCIENCE! This means seeing how many more times I go off the rails, while trying NOT to go off the rails, as well as finding out what kind of brights/pastel cotton candy funky monstrosity it turns out to be. I'm a slow and (still, clearly, obviously) unreliable knitter (at best LOL) so we'll see where and how this goes.

[dollgxtz]

heyyy, i just read your fics and wanted to tell you that I LOVE how you write! Im excited for future works and definitely will check on your blog more often now. I also saw that you are willing to write things such as ddlg and stuff, and I wanted to request it with Sylus.🖤

The Best Cure

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: daddy!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, daddy kink, ddlg, pet names like kitten, sweetie, little one, little girl, daddy, fingering, teasing, some slight punishment, overstim if you squint, lots of fluff near the end, tw for mentions of vomit

AN: I was trying so hard to get this done in the midst of everything else going on in my life but I had it 80 percent done so I figured I might as well finish and publish it tonight LOL. Ty for requesting anon <3

It was hot. Way too hot. Sweat beads form on your brow and your insides churn with nausea. You shift in bed a bit, bedsheets clinging to your clammy skin as you do so. A large bowl sits on the bedside table, ready for any vomit that threatens to come up your throat. You hadn’t thrown up at all today, but you still wanted to be prepared for the possibility. Each passing moment and stomach churn made that fear become more and more like it was going to be reality.

The black and heavy wooden door to the room suddenly opens, light pouring in to the very dark room. Sylus peers in, eyeing your disheveled figure.

“You should’ve had Luke and Kieran turn the ac down while I was gone. Poor thing”. He walks in, completely closing the door behind him.

A pair of delicate hands gently lifts your torso, propping you up with a mountain of pillows and plushies piled against the headboard. Sylus sits on the bed beside you, his worry carving a deep divot between his brows. He reaches out to test your temperature with the back of his hand, the other placing a thermometer under your tongue for good measure. You grimace and whine when he moves his hand away, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t look at me like that, kitten” he chuckles, moving his hand back to caress your cheek with his thumb. His brows tilt in concern before giving you a soft smile. “Daddy will take care of you”

You feel your cheeks heat up with the sound of that nickname. It wasn’t the first time he had addressed himself as such, and yet it never seemed to make you any less flustered. You had called him that by complete accident one night while half asleep, and while he had been taken aback a bit, he leaned into it completely after some light teasing (of course). Besides, he had already had an inkling you were into that kind of thing, coupled with your childish interests and tendencies.

He didn’t mind at all though. It was absolutely adorable the way you changed when it was just the two of you. The way you melt in his arms, become clingy and desperate for his touch. You go from Linkon’s fierce hunter and protector to his giggly little girl. And he couldn’t get enough. Knowing that he was a safe space for you to be this way meant the world to him.

However, you were feeling worse for wear and didn’t exactly want to be so agreeable today. You glare up at him and swat his hand away from your face, a nagging feeling of displeasure and nausea stirring in your gut.

And like waves crashing against the shore, emotions well up within you, pricking at the back of your eyes and bubbling in your head—discontent, worry, pride—all battering against the vulnerable neediness that yearns for tender care. Your lips press tight in a vain attempt to keep them from wobbling, pushing away the impulse to relent and fall into that soft headspace.

“Go away. Aren’t you supposed to be bathing in the blood of your enemies or something?” you spat, attempting to turn away from him. Sylus says nothing as he sets down the thermometer, moving closer to hold you in a tight embrace. You struggle against him for a few short moments, only stopping when the wooziness in your gut and head take over. Your body relaxes in his arms finally and he chuckles again.

“Done with your little tantrum?” he coos, planting a few kisses on your forehead. “And for your information, my enemies can wait. I gotta make sure this sick little kitten feels better don’t I?”

You don’t respond, still in the midst of your internal battle with your head. Sylus definitely notices but doesn’t say anything, taking a look at the thermometer again. He gets up momentarily, heading to the bathroom and coming back with a cool wash cloth.

A cool washcloth wipes over your forehead to clear away the sweat, gentle fingers resting under your chin to keep you still. You start to shake your head in protest, stopping immediately when your vision swims and your stomach induces a sharp pain. You lean over, clutching yourself as you groan in agony. Sharp, angry. stabs erupt all over your insides and you wheeze a little. Tears prick your eyes and slide down your cheeks. Sylus touches your back and begins to rub you, causing you to immediatly sit back up and try to compose yourself.

“I-i don’t need you” you persist, still clutching your stomach. “It’s probably just something bad I ate at work, I’ll be fine”. Every fiber of your mind is trying to fight back against going into your fluffy headspace. A growing part of you wonders why you’re even resisting this hard. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just let go and let him take control?

Sylus watches your labored movements, listening to your halfhearted attempt to lie while still making small circles on your back. His face adorns a stern expression, clearly not believing a single word you’re saying.

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie” he smiles, his hand leaving the small of your back. “It’s okay to want me, though. I want to take care of you”. His voices drips in reassurance, his unwavering gaze shines with his love and acceptance—the genuine sincerity piercing your soul and vaulting you past your breaking point.

It’s near audible the way your remaining resolve crumbles, leaving you sniveling and grabbing onto his shirt with a fierce, unrelenting grip. He of course reciprocates immediately, lifting you into his lap with ease.

A sigh pushes past his lips, clearly relieved that you finally let go for him. He adjusts the both of you so you’re both further on the bed, his back against the headboard as you straddle his lap and hug him around the neck.

He hushes your sobs, wiping your tearstained face and running his fingers over your hair. Your head finds a resting place on his heart, the steady and rhythmic beat gently relaxing you even more in his hold. Incoherent apologies and words begin to spill from your mouth and into chest. Although he can’t quite understand you, he simply lets you, no irritation or anger to be found anywhere on his face.

“I’m not mad pretty girl, but you can be pretty stubborn when you want to be” he smirks, giving you a light squeeze for further reassurance. “You’re lucky you’re so cute”

You grunt in his chest, pouting slightly. You lift your head a bit, positioning your lips to his neck, slightly biting it in retaliation. While Sylus had no bodily reaction, he slightly raised his eyebrow at your feeble nibbling.

“Oh? Is this little kitten biting her owner?” he scoffs, sliding his hand under the back of your shirt a little. “Seems you’re feeling better after all hm?”

“Hmph. A little…I mostly just find you annoying” you hiss, biting into the skin of his neck a bit harder. Sylus responds by dragging his hand into the hem of your sweatpants, squeezing the roundness of one of your asscheeks. You squeal, jumping back to glare at him.

“Seems we’ve found the cure to your illness, little one” he grins, seemingly enjoying the flustered reaction you just gave him. “You can bite me all you want if you can handle the consequences”

Your mouth left his neck and you looked up at him, already feeling flustered by his words.

“Consequences?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. Feigning ignorance was just something you did to stall him.

“Of course. You have to teach kitties not to bite the hand that feeds them. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, smugness dripping from his voice. You roll your eyes, a wave of nausea overcoming you once again. You wince, leaving Sylus’s lap and laying next to him.

“Im too sick to do any of that anyways…” you whine, looking up at him from your new position. You reach both hands up to him indicating you want to be held. He obliges, repositioning himself to your side and taking you in his arms.

“Is it your stomach still? Want me to rub it?” he asks. You weakly nod, lifting up your shirt a bit so he can slide his hand over. He gently starts caressing the softness of your tummy, making you whimper a bit from the ticklish sensation.

“Too gentle Sy, a little harder…”

“Are you gonna start complaining next that I’m doing it too hard? Make up your mind now sweetie” he chuckles.

You grit your teeth in slight irritation but mostly embarrassment from his teasing. Still, the panging waves of nausea leave no energy for smart or quirky remarks.

“Harder please?” you whimper, half questioningly and half plead. He nods, beginning to rub your stomach with a more intense motion than before. You stifle a groan as his hand shifts back and forth across the skin of your tummy, almost immediately alleviating the pain. You weren’t sure if this was some kind of placebo, or if Sylus’s touch was really just that good. Closing your eyes, you unwittingly let out a few sighs and whimpers.

“Is this hurting you more sweetie? Or does it feel good?”

Sylus’s voice trails off, a knowing and smug expression appearing on his face. Your eyes shoot open, heat creeping across your cheeks and ears.

“Not like that!! It just feels nice…perv” you spat, but you don’t move his hand away. You hear him chuckle as you close your eyes again, once more lost in the sensation of his cold hands massaging the skin of your stomach. You feel yourself getting lost in the motions of his touch, and for once in that entire day, you felt like dozing off.

It wasn’t until you felt his hand slide a bit lower than anticipated that you peered your eyes open a little. But you didn’t flinch or glare at him. Your breath simply hitched, a warm feeling starting to ache in your core. Sylus eyed your expression, pausing momentarily to gauge your reaction.

“If you don’t want me to go lower just say so” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your ear. “But…it might help you feel a little better hm?”

Instinctively you push your lower half up against his hand, the adrenaline and excitement beginning to pool through your veins. Your nausea still lingering, but long forgotten at this point. Taking that as a very clear sign, Sylus crept the rest of his fingers down your sweats, methodically creeping them under your underwear, and finally to your aching heat.

You gasp at the sudden coldness at your clit, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed. As he slowly and methodically starts making circles around your clit, you can feel yourself getting practically out of breath. Letting out a small whine, you peer at Sylus with a pleading expression.

“Don’t-dont tease me, I don’t feel good…” you mewl, tears beginning to prick your eyes. You were telling the truth, feeling so worked up already that any teasing today was certainly going to send you over the edge.

Sylus chuckles, wasting no time to give you what you were wanting. He undoubtedly enjoyed seeing you in such a pathetic state, but how could he say no to the whiny little kitten mewling at his side right now? He places his index finger over your bud, earning a much louder moan from you. You buck your hips into his hand, trying to gain even more sensation.

“Mghm! Keep going…like that…” your voice shakes with desperation. Your hands clutch at the muscles of his arms, trying to keep yourself from shaking like a scared animal. It normally took much longer to get you to this point, but today you needed it so much more. You needed him. And he definitely knew by the way he was granting mercy so quickly.

“So needy for my touch aren’t we~?” Sylus coos, keeping up the unrelenting pace on your bud as promised. “Does my little girl want to cum?”

You nod fervently, breath hitching in your throat as an intoxicating wave of pleasure begins to crest within you. Sylus, ever attuned to the intricacies of your body, senses the impending climax and, much to your displeasure, deliberately slows his pace.

The urge to protest, to lash out in frustration, flares within you, but you're acutely aware of the futility of challenging him. Instead, you gaze up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, silently pleading for release, for heaven.

“Ah ah, you know better. Use your words kitten” his voice commanding but soft. His feathery tone of voice compels you to obey him, your mouth opening slightly ajar to try and tumble the words out, all the while he still circles your aching bud with painful, slow strokes.

“Please Sy, I wanna cum, please?”

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, how cute”

You don’t get the chance to retort before you feel a sudden intrusion slicking through the wetness in your hole. You gasp, nails embedding themselves in Sylus’s forearms as he unrelentingly begins to finger you with his index whilst his middle continues the pace on your clit. A soaring heat breaks in your core, and you’re practically on the edge of climax when you peer at his lower half, his cock practically bursting out of his own pants. You reach for it instinctively, but Sylus catches your wrist before you could unzip him.

“Daddy…I want you to feel good too” you whimper, voice strained as you try to delay your own release. You try to reach again but unsuccessfully. Sylus shakes his head, pinching your clit slightly. You jump, his swift punishment making you relent and bury your face against him.

“Good girl, see it’s better when you listen to me isn’t it?” he whispers. “Just lay there and cum on my fingers sweetie”

You moan against his chest in response, ecstasy flooding your body and core with one last stroke of your bud. You choke out his name, shaking and panting against his body as your own body obeys his words. Abdomen and thighs shuddering under his gaze as he takes in the sight of you coming undone for him. Even after you came down, his long and dexterous fingers kept pressing down against certain sweet spots, sending you into a new state of sensitivity.

“It hurts Sy…” you plead, attempting to move his wrist. He obliges, removing his wet fingers that are now coated in your desperation and release. He’s quick to move his fingers towards his mouth, and you shut your eyes out of embarrassment.

“Sylus, don’t taste it��I’m gross”

You hear him chuckle as he finishes the last drop off his finger, leaning closer to give you a deep but sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered, tasting yourself a bit on his lips. Still pretty gross to you, but exciting nonetheless.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he smirks, readjusting your underwear and pants back onto your body correctly. “You taste sweeter every single time”

You shove your face back into his body out of embarrassment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your expression. Your illness was long gone now, surpassed by your orgasm most likely. Smiling into Sylus’s warm body, fuzziness begins to cloud your brain. You hadn’t really slept at all last night, and only slept in increments through the day.

“Tired? Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up kitten” he says, a content smile creeping on his face, very much relieved that you felt well enough to sleep now.

Nestled in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the day began to dissolve. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sylus’s chest was a soothing lullaby, each breath a gentle nudge towards sleep. The soft hum of his whispered words filled the quiet space between you both, like a comforting melody that played just for you. Your eyelids grew heavy, fluttering closed as the familiar bourbon scent of Sylus’s cologne enveloped you. The world outside blurred into the background, until all that remained was the steady heartbeat beneath your ear, guiding you into a deep and peaceful slumber.

[cassafrassie]

testing the waters - (also on ao3) length: 2,938 words rating: G (v mild swearing)

It’s a slow, hot, lazy late August afternoon. The world has been saved, triangle demon vanquished, Grunkle Stan’s memories slowly returning to him, and Dipper and Mabel Pines lounge on the front deck of the Mystery Shack soaking up their last moments of summer before returning to Piedmont in just a few days.

Dipper lays flat on his back on the wood slats, watching the trees sway in the warm breeze while Mabel sprawls on the couch, tapping away on her phone.

“Oh-ho-ho!” She says after some time, breaking the easy silence.

“What?” Dipper asks, glancing at her but not moving.

“Nothing…” she replies in such a mischievous tone that Dipper immediately knows it’s anything but nothing.

Dipper lifts his head to get a better look at his sister. She’s grinning like a mad woman as she taps something on her phone.

It makes Dipper uneasy.

“Mabel,” he says, slower. “What is it?”

Mabel ignores him at first, still tapping away, but eventually looks down at him with a smug smile on her face.

“Time for you to get your own phone I think, bro-bro.”

“What? Why?”

“Well you can’t exactly expect me to be the middle man for you and your girlfriend forever.”

“Girlfri—…?” Dipper trails off as Mabel tosses him her phone, open to a short text conversation.

Pacifica: Mabel. Tell your brother to meet me at Lake Gravity Falls at 4PM today.

Mabel: OoOooh. Looking to do some more huggin’ are ya?? Or maybe taking it up a notch? 💋💋😘

Pacifica: Ugh, just tell him.

Mabel: What’s the magic woooord?

Pacifica: Now?

Mabel: Come on Pazmatazz we practiced this.

Pacifica: Don’t call me that.

Mabel: P

Mabel: L

Mabel: E

Pacifica: Fine! Please! Just stop!

Dipper throws the phone back at Mabel, a little rougher than he needed to.

“Do you have to be like that?” he bites out.

“Um, securing your romantic future? Yes, you’d think you’d be grateful, jeez. Make sure you shower before you go though, you smell like the inside of a gym sock.”

“Who says I’m going?” Dipper says, flopping back down on the deck. “She can’t just boss me around like that.”

“Sure, Dip,” Mabel says, returning to her texting.

---

Two hours later Dipper finds himself showered (he needed to anyway, okay?!), changed and waving his thanks to Soos for the ride as he trudges down toward the lake from the parking lot. To his right he sees the lake’s marina.  It’s mostly modest speed boats and fishing vessels, but rising like a skyscraper above all the rest is a large pleasure craft, at least 80 feet from bow to stern, with the familiar “N.W.” emblazoned in gold script along the side of the bow. He figures this must be his destination, so he heads down the dock toward the end, where the massive yacht rests bobbing in the water in the final slip.

“Pacifica? You there?” he calls out from the dock, finally reaching the boat.

Pacifica’s blonde head pops out from a door to the interior almost immediately. She bounces up on deck and trots over to the side, leaning over to peer down at him.

“Dipper! You came!”

She’s is wearing a striped purple polo top similar to the one she wore the night the Lilliputtians attacked, simple pleated white shorts and camel-colored boat shoes. Her long hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and the overall effect is classy but understated. She looks… nice, Dipper thinks before shaking the thought away.

“Well you kind of made it sound like I didn’t have a choice.”

Pacifica shoots him a grin that’s just a little dazzling in the late afternoon light, and before he knows it his feet are carrying him up dock's boarding steps to the side of the boat. As he lifts his foot to step onto the yacht, however, Pacifica holds up her palm, stopping him.

“Ah, ah, ah, Pines! First rule of boating etiquette. Always ask for permission to board.”

“You invited me here!” he shoots back.

“Manners still matter,” she says, flipping her hair.

Dipper groans. He feels annoyance rising in his chest and is about to tell her to forget it, but then he studies her face and he sees the playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Oh. She’s… messing with him.

He feels his own mouth quirk up at the sides.

Well two can play at that game.

Dipper clears his throat, straightens his back and assumes an air of hyperbolic chivalry.

“Very well, Miss Northwest. Would your highness deign to grace herself with my presence by allowing me to step aboard thine’s most glorious seafaring vessel?” He finishes with an exaggerated twirl of his hand.

Pacifica giggles and holds out her hand to him palm up. “She will. Dork.”

He grips her welcoming hand and allows her to help him come aboard, taking a second to find his footing on the gently bobbing boat before releasing it.

“Pretty nice, uh, schooner you got here.” He says, hands on his hips, looking around.

Schooner? Is that even right? Why is he trying to impress her with big boat words? He doesn’t know a darn thing about boats.

Pacifica quirks an eyebrow but lets it go. “Yeah, it’s fun,” she says wistfully. “But I’m pretty sure it’s going up for sale next week along with the manor.”

“Oh,” Dipper says rubbing his neck. “Do you know where you’re moving yet?”

He feels just the slightest confusing feeling of guilt tugging deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t feel bad about Preston and Priscilla getting found out for their years of crookedness, but Pacifica didn’t really have anything to do with that.

“Another mansion here in town. It’s way smaller though. Only one swimming pool,” Pacifica says, her face falling briefly, but she shakes it off.

Dipper chokes back a snort, all feelings of guilt instantly evaporating.

“You want a soda? I can show you around,” Pacifica asks, though the way she confidently strides back toward the interior leaves him with the impression that’s it’s not really a question as much as it is a command to follow.

He trails after her, following into the inner cabin of the boat. They enter a spacious galley. The walls are lined in deep teak wood and a massive crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room. Dipper thinks this seems pretty impractical for a boat, but then again little about the Northwests has ever been practical.

A steward brings a silver tray with an assortment of sodas and juices. Dipper picks a Pitt Cola from the offering and then continues following Pacifica deeper below deck.

“So, uh, what’s the occasion?” he asks, following her down a narrow staircase and down a hallway lined with staterooms. “You just showing off the last of your family’s spoils before it goes to the auction block?”

Pacifica rolls her eyes as she stops at a door near the end of the hall.

“No. Well, not just that.” She opens the door, which leads to a small storage room. She doesn’t turn on the lights, but he can make out that the cabin is filled with boxes and chests from the warm light coming in from two small portholes. “This is the main reason.” She grips a large trunk in the corner with both hands and tugs it out from the shadows. The same “N.W.” monogram is etched onto the lid, the faint light catching the gold script.

As she tugs, Dipper feels the cabin shift around him unnaturally. He realizes the boat is pulling away from the dock. He braces himself against a wall with one arm, but Pacifica isn’t as quick on her feet and she stumbles forward. Dipper reaches forward with his free arm and grasps her around the middle. Her hair ends up in his face.

Lavender, again.

“I gotcha,” he says.

Pacifica grasps onto his arm as she steadies herself, then meets his eyes for the briefest of moments before turning away from him abruptly.

She coughs. “Thanks.”

Dipper feels his face flush. Not going to think too hard about that.

Pacifica turns back to the trunk, kneeling down and fiddling with the lock.

“My family has had these tapestries for as long as I can remember. I’m not sure where they came from, but I took the one in my bedroom down the night after the party. I didn’t know why at the time, but after the last few days things started to come together… so I took the rest down too and stashed them down here.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “Mom and Dad don’t know.”

Dipper feels a burst of pride swell in his heart at her small rebellion, whatever this is.

He leans over her shoulder as she lifts the lid to the trunk, but freezes when he sees what’s within.

He sees the eye first. That piercing, maniacal eye. Then the shape and color. And its enough to send him gasping backward, air completely leaving his lungs.

“Dipper?” Pacifica asks, spinning around toward him.

Dipper’s heart feels like it’s stopped. Where’s the wall? He needs to grab on to something. His arm waves behind him until it finds purchase on the side of the cabin.

“Dipper!” Pacifica continues. “Shoot! I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” She slams the lid shut and turns to grasp Dipper’s shoulders. “Hey, hey look at me.”

Dipper reluctantly meets her eyes, but he’s glad he does. Her blue meets his brown and he sees her concern and immediately feels calmer. In the recesses of his mind, fleetingly, he had feared that this was all some sort of trap, but when he sees her sincerity he knows she’s still on his side.

“You’re okay. I’m here. Crap, I’m so sorry,” she goes on, lowering her eyes but still gripping his shoulders.

Dipper feels the oxygen returning to his lungs and his head clearing.

“No, no it’s okay. I’m okay. It was an accident,” he says, taking a deep breath.

Pacifica looks back up at him, lip quivering. She releases his shoulders.

“Hey,” he chucks her under the chin lightly. “All good. Nothing wounded but my pride.”

She gives him a wary smile.

He returns it, feeling relief as he watches her features slowly relax. She really is pretty, huh?

Shit.

No.

No, no, no we are not doing that right now, brain.

He clears his throat.

“So… uh, why exactly are you showing me this?” he finally asks, breaking their eye contact and gesturing to the trunk.

“Oh! Right.” Pacifica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she straightens up, putting her hands on her hips. “I want you to help me get rid of it.”

Dipper’s mind races through memories of spells and incantations he read in Ford’s journals. Was there one for expelling physical objects from reality? Could they summon a self-contained fire that wouldn’t compromise the boat? Maybe if they contacted the ghost of Archibald Corduroy he would be able to bring the tapestries to the… ghost realm? If that’s a thing?

Pacifica looks at him curiously. “Uh, hello? What’s going on in there?” she asks, tapping his forehead with her pointer finger.

He continues studying the trunk. “Just trying to think of the best way…”

Pacifica raises an eyebrow. “Come on, Pines. Lake Gravity Falls is 742 feet deep at its center. Where do you think we’re going?” She gestures around her to the moving yacht.

Oh.

Right. Well that could work too.

With some effort and griping the two manage to bring the trunk up the stairs (“Pivot! You have to pivot!” Pacifica had sniped more than once) and on the main deck of the boat.

Together they lift the heavy chest to the railing at the stern, letting it balance delicately just shy from tipping over. They each hold one handle.

“Any final words?” Dipper asks, turning to face her.

“Good riddance.” Pacifica says, still staring at the trunk, eyes focused on the “N.W.” monogram. She turns to him. “Let’s do this.”

Damn, she’s fierce. He gives her a half smile and nods.

They each let go of their respective handles and give the trunk a firm push. It goes tumbling overboard, falling the dozen or so feet it takes to reach the water before hitting it with a satisfying splash.

Dipper and Pacifica stand side by side, watching it sink below the surface slowly, murky darkness slowly obscuring it from view. Then it’s gone.

Pacifica turns and leans her back against the railing, letting out a long exhale. “Wow, it’s crazy how much better I feel.”

Dipper smiles at her. Her features do look more relaxed. Like a heavy burden— or curse, maybe—has been lifted.

He nudges her side with his elbow. “So this tub is going away in a few days right? What do you say we enjoy it a bit before it’s gone?”

Pacifica turns to face him and grins.

---

A couple hours, an impromptu water gun fight, and a few unceremonious pushes into the lake later, Dipper and Pacifica lay next to one another on their stomaches at the bow of the boat, each wrapped in a fluffy towel. Together they watch the sun drop below the tree-lined horizon. Orange and pink gives way slowly to purple and blue. Dipper lets his eyes drift from the hazy sky to the gentle waves created by the yacht cutting through the lake surface, and finally to his new friend. Her eyes have shut and her head is cushioned on her arms. The soft light of the dusk plays on her delicate features, and he takes a moment to watch the steady inhale and exhale of her breathing. He feels himself smile, and decides to let himself indulge in the warm feeling that comes with it. Just for now. Even if he still isn’t sure what it means.

After a moment her eyes flutter open and her cheeks dust with pink. “Guess I dozed off a bit?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s been a big day.”

She yawns and looks at the horizon.

“So I guess you’re going back home to California soon, huh? After your party?”

“Yeah… but is it weird that to say that Piedmont doesn’t really feel like home anymore?”

“No.” She turns to him. “I think ‘home’ can kind of change. I never used to feel like Gravity Falls was where I belonged, honestly.”

“Really? Do you still feel that way?”

“I’m not sure… I feel at home right now though, I think.” Her cheeks grow rosier.

Dipper smiles, feeling his own cheeks warming once again as well.

“What are you gonna do? After?” he asks, not really knowing precisely how to articulate what he means, but trusting she will understand.

“I don’t know,” she laughs. “Back to school, I guess. Maybe I can convince my parents to let me start boarding. I’m just a day student right now, but there are a bunch of kids who live too far to go home at night. I wouldn’t mind staying away from my parents for awhile.” Dipper isn’t sure he completely understands how private schooling works, but before he can ask she keeps talking. “Mom and Dad—they, uh… fight a lot, you know? And I kind of think it’s just going to get worse now that we’re only really rich and not insanely rich.” She drops her chin to her rest on her right forearm, lets her left arm dangle over the side of the boat.

Dipper flashes back to four months earlier, hearing his own mom and dad say the most horrible things to one another late at night in their kitchen, long after he and Mabel were supposed to have gone to bed.

“Yeah,” he starts, slowly. “That’s… rough. I get that.”

She tilts her head to him, eyes wide. “You do?”

“Yeah...” He lets his own head fall forward, cushioned by his laced fingers. “I’m not really sure what I’m going to be walking into when we get back, either. Family-wise, I mean.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Honestly, not really. It’s too pretty and peaceful here right now.” He meets her eyes.

“Another time then,” she says, like it’s not even a question.

He feels a smile tug at his lips. On a lot of people, such declaration would come off as presumptuous, rude even. But Pacifica’s so naturally confident and matter-of-fact that it’s just… endearing. Honest.

And he knows it’s true, too.

“Yeah, another time.”

The yacht’s crew eventually brings the boat back to the marina just as the stars are beginning to make their first appearances in the evening sky. Her driver gives him a ride home, and clambering out of back of the town car, Dipper notices Mabel peeking through the Shack’s curtains. He rolls his eyes and turns back to where Pacifica still sits in the back of the car.

“So you’re coming to our birthday tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Duh, I am the Party Queen after all.” She winks and his stomach does a funny little flip. “It would be cruel to deprive you of my presence on your birthday.”

He laughs and shakes his head, sends her a final wave and smile over his shoulder as he makes his way back to what will almost certainly be an interrogation of epic proportions from his sister.

But, yeah, maybe Mabel is right. Maybe it is time to get his own phone.

[lover-of-mine]

it’s so interesting that with previous love interests, it was normal and fine to not ship them and to still want buddie in the future, but now, we have to sit down and shut up and accept that it’s never happening and B/T are forever

oh no wait, it’s not interesting, it’s annoying and confusing and frankly just weird. misogynistic and borderline fetishistic

shipping non-canon couples, especially ones with 6 years of history and love and shared experiences, is the norm in literally every fandom, but now suddenly it’s wrong and how dare we

a fair few of the people saying this are also, conveniently, the ones implying that B’s bisexuality is tied to T and T alone and if we don’t ship them, we don’t support bi!B

how. very. interesting! /annoying/confusing/weird

So interesting. Dude, I got called homophobic because I didn't immediately look at them in 703 and decided they were true love. In 703. Because I didn't look at the shoulder touch and immediately started shipping them. Homophobic with all the letters. I got yelled at. After 703. Legit almost deleted this whole blog over some of the things that got sent. I was legitimately crying with friends who are not in the fandom if I was being unreasonable or insane or whatever else I got called for not jumping in instantly and to ask if I was actually doing something wrong. People were saying we were being weird about queer storylines. That we needed to shut the fuck up and enjoy the way Oliver Stark was gonna make out with a hot guy. That not being on board the ship meant that we had an unreasonable and ridiculous necessity of making sure Eddie was the only guy for Buck. Literally every single person in this fandom hc Buck 1.0 also hooked up with guys. Most people never acted as if Buck needs to be guided through his queerness by this hot older guy. Oh, wait, no, they did. With T. People automatically decided that Buck needed a queer Yoda. That he needed someone to hold his hand and be a guide. They added a fucked up power dynamic from the get go. With no information, Buck was already a baby that needed his hand held through his own sexuality. And let me tell you one thing, I know for a FACT that if it was Eddie, the automatic reaction wouldn't be putting T in this idealized experienced gay guide position when that would've made more sense (not that I think any of them needs a guide) because Eddie is the one with the body count you can count with one hand and a weird relationship with sex. But somehow I'm the one who's weird about Buck's sexuality. I don't want Buck to explore. I need Buck to only have loved Eddie. Sure. Look, I don't wanna multiship. The same way everyone is allowed to ship whatever the fuck they want, I'm allowed to not ship whatever the fuck I want. If it was a woman no one would've been in my inbox basically demanding I make the same level of analysis I make for buddie for them (let me tell you one thing too, if I made the level of analysis I do with buddie with bt, no one would like what I have to say ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) but I'm still getting asked for it for some reason when I never indicated I ship the two.

But I'm not allowed to have any critical thoughts about anything involving bt or else I'm being weird and that's the mild term that's being used. I can't point out the fact that T left Buck in a curb and failed to communicate shit properly even though it happened in canon. I can't say that I think it felt kinda callous for him to say "they had henleys in the 80s" to Buck being upset T didn't dress on theme (also, the job requires them to change into a uniform by nature, he could've put a colorful shirt and indulged Buck a little bit there without it interfering with the way he was on standby but I can't say that or else I'm a hater). There is no criticism allowed in the ship but somehow I'm the one being weird. I don't think Buck should be in a relationship. I think Buck is still exhibiting the same patterns when it comes to love interests. And yes, I would feel the same way if it was Eddie. Buck doesn't know how to be happy alone and he will never be happy in a relationship until he learns that. I was saying that when it was Natalia and getting praised for my understanding of Buck's character. Now I'm locking Buck onto Eddie. Buck's bisexuality is only valid if he's actively kissing a guy for some people but I'm the one being weird. BT have so many visual parallels to bucktaylor, but if I say that's a bad sign I'm being a hater. I need to sit my ass down, ignore six seasons of buildup, accept that it's over, and that now making Eddie queer and getting buddie together would suck because it would destroy the friendship they built so bt are endgame and gonna get married and somehow I'm the one who's being weird about queer relationships and attaching Buck bisexuality to a person. The fandom lost its fucking mind when they saw Oliver kiss a guy and, yeah, it does feel misogynistic and borderline fetishizing. But somehow I'm the one getting blocked by half the fandom when I'm not even pointing everything I want out. I lose at least one mutual every time I even suggest maybe we should look at things a bit more critically. I have to sit here and justify things to an insane degree while people's reaction to any of the criticism is "uH BuT T Is hOt aNd hE Is a gUy sO It iS DiFfErEnT oKaY?" Critical thinking skills went out the window because now there's a guy involved and that's fucking weird. People are straight up erasing Eddie, the actual main character of the show, Buck's established partner of years, Buck's best friend, the only person in canon who never left Buck in any capacity, because some guy kissed Buck and, he, uh *check notes* treats Buck as an actual human being? so that means he's perfect. It's nuts. The bar is hell.

Yes, I know this is not everyone in the fandom and I know this is not everyone who ships them but if what I'm saying feels like a personal attack to you maybe you should do some thinking. Anyone can ship anything, you want to ship them go off, power to you, the weird part here is the way some people are demanding other people ship it too. We could all be coexisting if people didn't get weirdly comfortable demanding shit from other people in the fandom and deciding their opinion is the only one that matters so they need to call out anyone who thinks differently, but alas, that's too much to ask.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That's until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: Tomorrow is beach day for me.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The city streets seem to slant around you, looming outside the car windows, blurring at the edges. Your displacement adds to the effect, making your dizzy, leaving your hands raw as you wring them compulsively. You shrink back into your seat, shying away from the world that seems so scary to you. 

Aunt Bev is completely unbothered. She sings along to her favourite 80s bop as she keeps speed with the rest of traffic. She's always in a sunny mood but that day, she beams even brighter. When you asked why, she was almost stunned by the question; 'well, sweetheart, it's your birthday!' 

You forgot. Or didn't care. You never really celebrate. Your last birthday you can barely discern from all the other grim days. You try not to think of that life you had before Aunt Bev showed up to drag you into the light. You suppose it's probably been just under a year since. 

As if sensing your grey thought, she reaches to turn the volume down. She resumes her firm grip on the wheel and peeks over quickly. She smiles as she stops at the changing light. 

"You get a free scoop. You got your ID?" She says. 

You nod. That's one of the things that's new to you. Before you never even had a library card. Before, it was like you never even existed. As far as the world was concerned, you didn't.  

You look down at the purse in your lap. Your cousin Lena gave it to you. She said she never used it and it suited you better. There was a lot she handed over, though without any real concern. Her and your other cousin, Mason, have so much, they hardly know the difference. 

You stare at the embroidered petals on the black velvet. Lena's wrong. It's too nice for you. 

You tear your hands apart and lift the flap. You slide out the small wallet within. Another inherited piece. You slip out the ID card and stare at the photo. It doesn't really look like you but you've never really been able to recognise yourself. Your features always struck you as unfamiliar. 

You remember when you went to fill out the paperwork. Standing in front of that lens, staring into its black eye, and the sudden flash. You tuck the card away and shove the wallet back in the depths of the purse. 

"Lena's making you a cake," Bev says, "she always loves an excuse to make a mess of my kitchen." 

You try to laugh, it's more a crackle. That's the thing about Aunt Bev, everything is so careless to her, so easy. It all feels so strange to you. You don't fit but no one else seems to notice. 

"Mason should be there but heavens knows he's always late. That's not my doing, by the way, your uncle's always been horrible about time," she scoffs. 

You hum to acknowledge you're listening. The mention of your cousin and uncle make you uneasy. It isn't that they're bad. No, they're so nice, like Lena and Bev, but they're men. You try not to hold that against them but you've never been very comfortable around them. Not that you spent much time around male counterparts. 

"Twenty-five," she preens, "exciting." 

You clear your dry throat, "yep." 

You tuck your chin down and fidget with the strap of the purse. Twenty-five. Halfway through your first decade of adulthood and you still feel like a child. It's nothing to celebrate but Aunt Bev sees everyday as a reason. 

She puts on her signal and waits in the line of cars. You squint through her side and see the bustling of vehicles and people in a large lot. All this for ice cream. You told her you aren't particularly hungry even but she insisted. 

She turns and rolls into the lot, finding a spot amid the tight lines. She sighs and pulls the visor down to check her dyed waves in the mirror. She's always so put together. She tried to help you but you don't like the feel of mascara and you had an allergic reaction to the lip gloss. She didn't try again. 

"Alright, ice cream!" She snaps the visor up, "do you know which flavour you want?" 

You unbuckle your seat belt and shrug, "I don't know what they have." 

"Fair," she tilts her head as she opens her door, "I'm feeling a good old vanilla cone." 

You get out and shut the door. You hook the purse on your shoulder and meet her by the hood. You walk in step with her, peering around at the other people streaming towards the other side of the lot. There’s a large archway leading to a large plot of booths and stands. It’s a market of some sort, the kind you’ve only seen on television. 

“I thought we were getting ice cream,” you say as you grip your purse. 

“They have ice cream. I have another surprise. For your birthday,” she insists, “I wanted to buy you a gift.” 

“Oh? I don’t need one.” 

“I want to,” she says, “me and Lena used to come here all the time. You’ll like it.” 

You don’t argue. You have no right to. She’s doing you a favour. Another one.  

It’s crowded but everyone seems happy. You’re not used to all the noise or clamour. A woman pushes a stroller ahead of you as her husband chases a lively toddler past her. You press your chapped lips together and hold in your unease. 

You’re not the best in these sort of situations. Too many people, too much going on. Just going down to City Hall to get your ID was a lot. The hospital too. Those stiff, cramped plastic chairs and people filling even the space between them. 

You keep your shoulders curled in as you walk with Bev. You end up behind her, following her lead, stopping where she stops, looking at whatever she looks at. She points out a crystal sunflower necklace and you smile and nod. When you see the price, you frown. 

“Maybe something else. I don’t wear jewelry,” you say. You don’t wear it because you never had it. 

“It would be so pretty,” she remarks. 

“No, really, it’s... nice, but not for me.” 

You sidle on. There’s a table of soaps so pungent they make your head cloudy, and candles that look like whipped desserts. You cross to another booth and Bev buys some local honey and apple butter. She likes the honey in her tea in the evening. She always makes you a cup too. 

She shows you the wildflower honey giddily and points you onward. You stick close, following her direction as it keeps your head from spinning. You go to crocheter’s stand with stuffed animals meant for the children shouting and running around more than you. That whale might be cute but you’re not a child anymore, are you? 

You carry on. Bev shows you several other things. A little compact mirror with mother of pearl on the case and a hand-painted wooden chest you could put on your dresser. The dresser she bought in the room she gave you in the house she pays for. 

“You really don’t need to buy my anything. The ice creams good enough,” you say as your doubt bubbles over but it’s too loud for her to hear you. And she’s too distracted. 

Aunt Bev stands on her toes, though she’s already a tall figure, and waves at someone. She grabs your wrist and you wince as she pulls you through the swaths of people. You want to tear away as her grip makes you itch. You don’t like being touched. You’re not used to it. 

She pulls you to another row of stalls and stops before a medley of plants. There's a little chalkboard sign in the corner that reads ‘Cole’s Corner’. Pots line the top of the table, cacti and spider plants and succulents. Their green and lovely and lush. 

Bev lets go and you stare down at them. They’re familiar. They’re pretty. You could smile if your ears weren’t burning from the bustling people around. 

You’ve always known soil, always known the smell of pollen and the tough roots of unwanted weeds. When you weren’t trapped in your room, you were stranded in the garden, searching for bright petals or nursing wilting stems. Out in the dirt, you didn’t have to worry about anything. 

Often Aunt Bev found you in the plot she allotted you among her rose bushes and tulips. The space you made your own with the gnome you painted yourself. That was one of her little crafts she liked to do. She always had an idea for something or the other; waxed-linen to use as reusable bowl covers or tie-dye tee shirts. 

You stare down at a pot of aloe vera. The pot is clay; the base is brown and the top is painted white. You admire the jutting rigid leaves as the chaos around you settles into the background. You lean in closer at the burst of colour behind it, a bunch of pleasant pink begonias. 

“Cole,” your aunt chirps, “busy today.” 

“Sure is,” the man behind the table answers and your eyes flick up as you nearly jump.  

You hadn’t seen him. You were too distracted by the fauna. You don’t know how you didn’t. He’s tall and his blue eyes twinkle as they meet yours. You quickly shy away as the sight of his soft hay brown hair lingers in your mind. 

“This your sister?” He asks. 

“Oh, Cole, don’t be silly. You can flatter me all you like. You’re still a horrible salesman.” 

“Usually works,” he chuckles, “daughter?” 

“You’ve met Lena,” she chides then introduces you by name, “this is my niece. Hon, this is Cole. He grows these all himself.” 

“Ah, the niece,” he snaps his fingers. “I remember.” 

As he turns away you continue to peruse. Your cheeks are burning. You’re suddenly not as content to browse the plants. Not as you feel the sting of that man’s gaze nipping at you. It’s just the way he’d looked at you. Maybe just that he’d even saw you. 

Suddenly, a pot wrapped in burlap is set down in front of you. You examine the yellow petals and peek over at Aunt Bev. She grins and her gaze trails between you and the man. You gulp and turn back to once more consider the flowers. 

“Daylily,” you murmur. 

He leans in and lets out a scratchy noise, “that’s right.” 

You suck in your lower lip. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Your lashes flick up then down as you can’t figure what to do with yourself. 

“You like flowers? Your aunt says you spend all your time in the garden.” 

You shrug, then nod, and once more dart a look over at Aunt Bev. She said all that? To him? Why? 

“How about that one?” She comes closer as she reaches for her purse, “it’s her birthday. I’d like her to get something nice for her.” 

“Can’t go wrong with day lily. They keep bloom for a while but each blossom only lasts about a day,” he turns the pot slightly as he speaks, “symbolic of devotion and forgetting worries. They brighten the place right up.” 

“So?” Aunt Bev nudges you with her elbow. 

You dip your chin, “um, sure, okay. Thank you, Aunt Bev.” 

“Flowers are always a good gift. These ones won’t need much in the winter either. They’ll come right back,” he explains, “is that all?” 

“Yep, I think you’ve bled me dry,” Bev kids as she hands over her money, “I only have so much room left in the backyard.” 

“Ah, don’t got that problem on the farm. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with all the land,” he counts out her change from a metal box. 

“Must be nice. I swear, living in the city can be so... suffocating,” Bev mopes as she tucks away the coins. “Go on, hon, you wanna carry your flowers?” 

You mutter your acquiescence and step forward to reach for the pot. Before you can, that man, Cole, slides it out of your grasp. “Wait, one minute.” He turns and digs around in a crate hidden beneath the perpendicular table, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it?” He pulls out a ribbon, the same colour as the daylily, “just put a proper bow on.” 

He ties it up in a drooping uneven bow. You peek up at his face as he gives it a helpless smile and shrugs, “not perfect but... happy birthday.” 

He pushes the pot towards you and you cautiously take it. His large hand brushes yours and you quickly bring the flowers against your stomach, recoiling a step back from the table. His fingers fall onto the table and he taps them. 

“Oh, wait,” he turns once more and digs around, this time in a bag on the top of the table, “Marvita brough these over from her booth.” He takes out a small box and lifts the lid to reveal an array of macarons in a variety of hues, “I can’t eat them all.” he shoves the box at you, “please.” 

You don’t move but Bev eagerly accepts one; a pink one. “Go on,” she urges, “live a little, birthday girl.” 

You scrunch your mouth up and slant it this way, then that. You take a cookie; a green one. As you hug the plant with one arm and retract the other, you remember your manners. A tingle runs through the back of your hand, a memory of those lessons, as the ‘thank you’ tumbles off your tongue. 

You look up and once more your eyes meet. You blanch and swiftly turn away. 

“No problem,” he says brightly, “hey, Bev,” he calls as she goes to shuffle away, “next week?” 

“Eh, I don’t know, my husband’s been on me about the spending,” she laughs, “we’ll see.” 

“Oh yeah, see you then,” he snorts, “you too, I hope.” 

“Uh, bye,” you wave with the cookie and hurry past your aunt. You know he’s talking to you but you can’t face him. He’s just being nice and you won’t be back. 

“I love those, they’re so pretty,” Aunt Bev reaches over to touch the petals, “such a nice man, isn’t he?” 

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Some things I’ve noticed on my second viewing of “Five Nights at Freddy’s” (2023)

(Some of these are obvious, don’t @ me, I’m autistic and I had work the day I first watched the film so my brain was all over the place)

Once again, SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE AVOIDING SPOILERS!!!!

On my first viewing I thought that showing the security guard at the very start loosening the bolts of the chair straps was a fake out to make us believe he’d escape, but actually he loosened the bolts which is how Mike was able to escape later on

Just want to say that the opening credits are fucking cool and I love them so much

In my previous post about things in the FNAF movie, I incorrectly said there was no Golden Freddy - Golden Freddy is in fact in the film, he’s the one who goes to the house/kills Aunt Jane/is in the taxi

Following on from the above point, I said last time that I thought the cupcake was the fifth ghost child but I actually think it’s Golden Freddy to be honest - the blonde girl was obviously Chica, the boy with the bunny ears was Bonnie, the ginger boy was Foxy, and then there was the blonde boy and another boy with a top hat on. I originally thought that the blonde boy who wore the brown shirt was Freddy because he seemed like the leader, but now I’m wondering if the boy with the top hat was Freddy and the leader boy was in fact Golden Freddy (given his blonde hair)? I’m interested to hear what everyone else thinks

This is obvious but the doctor foreshadowed the ending because she told Mike that drawings are powerful tools for children to express things and understand things, and that’s exactly how Abby communicated to the gang at the end that Afton was responsible for their deaths

^side note but as an early years practitioner at a nursery/for preschool children, it’s actually true that pictures are used to help children learn things even before they can read, write or talk. I don’t know, it just interested me to be like “oh yeah that’s true!!”

There was not that much focus on Mike’s dad, like he was seen so briefly compared to his mom, which makes me wonder if there’s something to it that might be revealed in a future film. Like maybe his “dad” isn’t his dad or something? Because in the game canon, William is his father, so… I don’t know. I also saw someone else point out that in the training video Mike watched, there was a man working on the animatronics who maybe looked like the actor playing Mike’s dad, so maybe his dad worked there with the animatronics?

The film appears to be set in 2000; I’m 90% sure the security cam of Mike in the careers office showed the date as being in 2000, but if someone else can clarify or confirm the exact date then that would be great. It would make sense though because Garret presumably went missing around the same time as the ghost kids (in the 80s), so the film being set in the present day (meaning Mike would be in his 50s) would make zero sense. Also the mobile phones/computers all seem like they come from the early 2000s

Someone on Twitter pointed out that one of Abby’s drawings on her wall appeared to be a red airplane, which could just be an indication/foreshadowing of her knowledge of Garret’s disappearance (his toy airplane) but also someone else said it could have been 9/11 which….?!?! If this film is set in 2000, then that’s FUCKED

(I think it’s either a random drawing or to do with Garret’s toy tbh but the idea of her having foresight of 9/11 is fucking horrifying)

I’m still not totally sure which animatronic the gang were going to force Abby into, like it’s one with spring locks and at first I thought it might be Circus Baby but it doesn’t really look like her. It looks almost like a marionette or something? And I mean, yeah, it could be that they changed the design a bit but they literally stayed faithful to the designs of all the animatronics in the series so… you know.

Desperate to know if Matthew Lillard is aware of the fact that his DILF status has been multiplied by one hundred after this film like can someone check in on him and see if he’s alright? 💀 the FNAF girlies fans are frankly RABID about Afton

On that note, I wonder if Josh Hutcherson or Matthew Lillard have ever played any FNAF games, like were they fans before being cast or…? I really wish we could have content of them talking about the film or promoting it, but Hollywood refuses to pay their actors fairly so 🤷‍♀️

Listen, I ADORE both Josh and Matthew anyway but in this film I feel like Matthew especially stood out??? Maybe it’s just the character he’s playing but he ATE this role up (so did Josh but still)

I feel like the springlock scene was actually more terrifying upon a second viewing like at my first one I was like “that’s not as bad as I imagined” but this time I was like “holy shit he’s in agony” like his screams were PAINFUL to listen to

Speaking of painful to listen to, Freddy gave this really guttural and pained roar/scream at one point during the ending and it really made my heart hurt, it’s like the child inside of him was reliving the memory of their murder or something??? I can’t describe it but it was such an intense moment

I honest to god feel like I enjoyed it more on a second viewing and I don’t know why??? Maybe it’s just because the other people in my cinema weren’t laughing every five minutes but still.

I now have the urge to rewatch ALL of Markiplier’s playthroughs of ALL the FNAF games so… yep!

Once again begging for people to talk about FNAF because I’m not the most knowledgable on the series but I do enjoy it!

[luminnara]

Feyd Rautha headcanons plsss

Like what was his upbringing and training like? How did he become what he is?

Okay I think about this A LOT and I just wanna say that I know people argue a ton about the original Dune book(s) vs the older adaptations vs the new DV movies, and these are just my thoughts! Frank Herbert was a great writer and he gave us complex characters with tons of subtext, but the original Dune was also published in the 60s and the other best known older adaptation is from the 80s, and both have some definitely outdated and not great stuff was used to show how bad a character was (like the Baron having an affinity for uh young boys who look like Paul 😬). I think that DV made some really smart changes to these characters that are more in line with contemporary thinking, while also remaining true to what Frank Herbert was trying to tell us about them—like the Baron is a Bad Man and Feyd is angry and impatient and definitely wants to kill him. ANYWAYS leggo, this is long and my thoughts jump around a lot but I hope you enjoy!

WARNING for some talk of SA! Also mentions of violence and murder and cannibalism, the usual stuff

The more serious ideas that are backed up by text and movie evidence:

Feyd-Rautha was taken from Lankiveil, a Harkonnen planet ruled by his birth father Abulurd (Vladimir’s younger half brother) by his uncle, Baron Vladimir. Feyd definitely knows this, and knows that Glossu Rabban is his older brother…so imagine all of the conflicting thoughts he must have surrounding his own position and future. On the one hand, he was taken and raised by his uncle so that he could inherit the title of Baron. On the other hand, he was taken as a punishment to his father. There must be resentment there, towards both his father and his uncle, and even his older brother. Even though Feyd was essentially chosen to become something more than Rabban, he grew up away from most of his immediate family. Even though he was raised to become Harkonnen royalty, imagine how he might have turned out if he had remained with his father, who had renounced the Harkonnen name.

He was brought up in a cruel and harsh environment. He was made into a killing machine, partly because of Harkonnen customs, partly because Vladimir enjoyed the carnage, and partly because it was the only thing a young Feyd ever knew. As a young man, he loves killing and shredding because it feels natural and is second nature to him, but does he ever wish he had known what it was like growing up in a softer environment? Food for thought.

He hates his uncle. In the book, he attempts an assassination. In DV’s part two, he mentions to the Baron that he should kill him, and the Baron laughs. Vladimir finds it amusing that Feyd would say something like that, because he knows he’s got Feyd under his thumb. Perhaps Feyd is even scared of him.

The Baron is, and was, cruel to him. In the book, after the failed assassination attempt, Vladimir tells his nephew that if he agrees to stop trying to kill him (lol), he’ll step down and let Feyd have his position. BUT he kills his darlings as a punishment (who in the book are female slaves, who act as his lovers)

I already have a ton of headcanons about his darlings in the DV movies, and I really think that Feyd cared for them. So imagine that your own uncle WHO YOU WANT TO KILL takes away the only things you care about?? That’s fucked up man

The Baron abused Feyd to some degree, very possibly sexually—I’ve seen a lot of people pointing out how heavily this is implied by the subtext in both the book and part two. Feyd is actually a complex character, but neither Frank Herbert nor DV really spelled that out, and you have to dig a little and think about it. While I obviously don’t want ANYBODY, even fictional characters, to experience something like SA, I think it does add to the depth of his character and gives more fuel to his rage. It also shows us just how terrible Vladimir really is. I’ve seen it suggested that this is part of what Margot Fenring means when she says that Feyd is sexually vulnerable, but I take that comment to more mean that he opens himself up to the possibility of harm a LOT in bed and that’s when he’s most emotionally vulnerable. BUT I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive

NOW THE MORE FUN IDEAS THAT I ENJOY (fun is a subjective term here lol)

Feyd-Rautha has a vulnerable side, and it’s very, very guarded. It’s buried so deep he may not even be aware of it.

He really does care for his darlings, and that’s the closest thing he feels to love. It’s a possessive, ownership kind of love that we would consider toxic irl, but they’re the only things besides his weapons and power that he cares about.

He doesn’t revere his weapons, but he respects them. They’re not personified, but he appreciates a good killing tool, and likes to take care of his knives.

He views lives as very black and white. There are people who can be killed (slaves, servants, rivals, his uncle), and people who ABSOLUTELY cannot be (his darlings, an SO, his hypothetical children)

He views everyone else as weaker than him, and it’s partially because his uncle would never LET someone as important to his plans as Feyd be harmed, so Feyd rarely feels that his life is actually in danger. Almost everyone he fights in the arena is drugged, and it isn’t like his trainer would fight without shields. He’d be confused and intrigued by someone who could actually defeat him, and he’s so into the art of war and battle that he would respect it (but also be upsetti)

He spends a lot of time watching and calculating in silence. While he’s impatient and has a short temper, he likes to learn about things that interest him.

He’s up to date on Giedi Prime beauty trends and sets a lot of the standards himself. He gets massages and spa treatments regularly and has been known to undergo more serious procedures.

While he doesn’t partake as regularly as his darlings, he occasionally consumes human flesh and blood and doesn’t think it’s weird, because he views almost everyone as lesser than him, so eating them is akin to eating livestock. Alternatively, I could see him going down the “I feel so overwhelmingly deeply about you that I must consume you body and soul” road about someone special but I really don’t think he’s got that brand of romance in him lol

Like lady fenring said, he is, in fact, sexually vulnerable. In the bedroom, he can let out his emotions, and sometimes they’re ugly and sometimes he needs to not be in charge for the night. He leaves himself open to manipulation and harm. Man just really needs a good hug tbh

Canonically hypersexual as a result of trauma

Is harsh as a result of a harsh upbringing, one that looked comfortable from the outside but was anything BUT for him. Beneath the surface, he’s messy.

Aggressive because he’s always had to be to survive. His uncle probably wouldn’t have killed him because he was always integral to Vladimir’s plans, but did a young Feyd know that?? NO

is NOT well traveled. He’s lived on Giedi Prime his whole life, has probably seen Lankiveil, which is cold and watery, and has been on Arrakis, but I think he would NOT know what to do if he was on a lush green planet. All he knows is harsh, extreme environments. If you plop him down in a meadow, he will have NO clue what to do

As a child, he watched his uncle kill anyone who inconvenienced him. This definitely warped Feyd’s concepts of kindness and the value of life.

His childhood was just unbelievably strict and harsh and at the same time he was spoiled in certain ways, and that has led to him growing into a pampered yet still caged man

He would LOVE to slaughter his uncle and feed him to his darlings

In an arranged marriage, something about his spouse would have to suddenly intrigue him, and then he would be HOOKED. He would sink his teeth in and refuse to let go. Opening up to someone who isn’t one of his darlings would be strange and difficult for him

Remember how I said he isn’t used to fighting sober opponents? I think that once he gets a taste for fair fights, he becomes a little addicted to the thrill of it and the power that those victories bring him, and he loses interested in drugged fights. After a lifetime of living under this uncle’s thumb, the control he has over someone’s life and PROVING that he’s better and stronger and meaner than them is the most validating feeling he knows.

He never shows mercy, because no one has ever showed it to him.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 80 (Conrad and His Father)

cw: coarse language, tense family dynamic, follows the events of this post

Life after Helena Gordon's death was difficult for the men she left behind. Years later, Conrad and his father still struggled with her loss. The apartment furnishings were unchanged, and no photos to remember her hung on the walls.

Another call from his son's high school guidance counselor left Stephen Gordon at a loss. He feared their connection was slipping away.

"Another fist fight? What was it this time?"

"It was nothing. They were just assholes."

"If you keep this up, you might not graduate."

"Who cares what I do? We all just die anyway."

"Son, I know you're better than this. You want more than this; I know you do. You know your mother would want more for you, too."

"Oh, now you want to talk about her? You only bring her up when you want to tell me what a loser I am!"

"I never said anything like..." He stopped himself. All Conrad ever wanted to do was argue, and Stephen was running out of patience. "What is it that you need, son? You won't talk to any counselors, you won't talk to me..."

"I don't want to talk about your bullshit opinions, Dad!"

"Well, what do you want to talk about? How are your college applications coming along?"

Conrad grunted. "Fine."

"What major are you-"

"I don't know! Fuck! Are you that excited to get me out of this place?"

"You have to get this anger under control, son. I don't know how you're going to do it, but think about the kind of father you'll want to be someday. You can't scream at-"

"I'm never having kids. Ever."

Stephen threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine. Don't have kids! Don't finish high school without getting yourself expelled, and don't amount to a goddamned thing! Maybe you need to channel this anger into working out or something."

"We can't afford a gym membership," Conrad scoffed. "The Landgraabs pay you shit money and you're still working off all Mom's medical bills."

"You're smart and you're resourceful. Figure it out! But you're not moping around here, and the next time you get in a fight at school, I'll pull you out and force you to work Landgraab security with me for the rest of your miserable existence."

In a huff, Conrad locked himself in his room. Despite his nihilistic outburst, he pulled out his math homework and focused on the equations to calm his mind.

His mother would never approve of his grades slipping, especially now that he was less than a year from his high school graduation. She'd left them, but her ambitious spirit still flickered quietly in her grief-stricken son. He was only doing these stupid equations for her. "I hope you're happy," he muttered under his breath.

He hated how close she felt - like she was always just a phone call away - even though she was gone. It was so unfair.

After an hour, his father knocked on the door. With a roll of his eyes, Conrad stood to let him in. Right away, Stephen sat on the bed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said. "I've just tried so hard to reach you and I'm at my wit's end."

"It's fine. I thought I might head down to the gym tomorrow and see if they're hiring. I'm pretty sure employees get free memberships."

Stephen Gordon grinned proudly. "I said you were resourceful, son. I think that's a great idea."

So Conrad got a part-time job at the local gym, scrubbing the toilets and changing rooms in exchange for free use of the machines. His embrace of physical activity helped get him through his senior year.

His grades got him into Foxbury Institute for Computer Science, and he even started looking to his future with a renewed sense of excitement.

On his graduation day, the smiles he shared with his father were genuine, even if both could feel Helena's absence as strong as ever.

"She's so proud of you, son. I know she is."

He nodded, careful not to get wrapped up in referring to his mother in the present tense. "She would be."

Off on his own in Britechester, Conrad took his new independence seriously. He and his father had nowhere near enough money for him to blow off his education and waste the tuition.

He spent long hours studying in the old library, and it wasn't long before he found a local gym to help manage his emotions.

Pappy Murphy had been a boxer, and Conrad was drawn to the punching bags. Treadmills and weight machines couldn't match the pummeling he could give his own emotional baggage with a set of gloves and a bag.

The gym soon became his home away from home, and he spent time there as often as he could... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

WCIF Boxing Gym? Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym by SimDoughnut in the Sims 4 Gallery. I didn't realize until after I placed the lot in game, but it comes with a secret underground Fight Club-esque fight room and creepy scientific lair, too (with a weather machine in it!) and this place is screaming for some storyline but (for now!) it's only in my flashback save.

Fun discovery, because I was literally just looking for a gym in the gallery with boxing equipment so I could try to isolate whatever mod script was preventing me from placing punching bags in any gym after the last patch (it was Mercuryfoam's Martial Arts mod, and that's a bummer because I want this skill back from Sims 3 very much and I believe the mod is no longer being updated!)

[metalichotchoco]

Ever since I found out that my baby girl Edgar has an actual high end perfume based on him Miguel matos’ “electric dreams” I thought it could be fun to talk about what some other computers would smell like based on their personalities, stories and overall vibes.

Since Edgar has a perfume already I might as well talk about it

Released in 2021, they describe this scent as being “digital hormones” and trying to understand an emotion and failing at it, which works well for Edgar very well. Electric dreams as a whole lives in the pre internet age of the 80s and how hopeful that dream of the future was in the minds of the people. I love that they included the cheap champagne that miles spills on Edgar as a note here. The other scents are contextualized with the youth of the 80s, strawberry gum and tutti frutti soda, plastic flowers and clean laundry. Even the part where Edgar overheats at the end is in the smoke note. It’s categorized as chypre fruity and I think some other scents fit Edgar very well.

In love with everything by imaginary authors is glitzy and bright almost like those arcade cabinets introduced in the era.its based on the young adults of the time specifically the women, the joys of recklessness. Inexhaustible enthusiasm. To me Edgar is a sugar sweet summer.

Edgar is characterized by the era he was born in, something actually a lot of sentient computers share. As technology morphs and evolves with humanity, our ideas and outlooks also change with it. Electric dreams is coated in the neon lit nostalgia of the 80s, and in a weird twist of fate its legacy is of the 80s as well. The commercialism of it as a whole is what’s remembered most prominently, the song that was made for the movie has outlived its original context. Honorable mentions to age of innocence by Toskovat but I don’t think the rubber or gasoline notes fit him well. Fantômas by Nasomatto is pretty good being a fruity clearly fake fragrance though the gunpowder might be a bit much.

Moving forward, let’s talk about HAL

While technically she was an anomaly by Etat Libre d’Orange makes direct reference to him and his most iconic line, this scent is based on the marriage of Nina Simone and Stanley Kubrick. If hal was human in any shape or form this fragrance would be a generally good fit, as it’s clean professional and one of those your skin but better scents that’s prefect for workplaces.

Eu de space from nasa could work pretty well though it’s not exact. This is a photorealistic space scent with metals and plastics and ozone notes but Hal isn’t directly in space, he’s what the ship would smell like. The burnt sweet quality doesn’t mix well with how pristine and rigid the character is. Spacewalk by Demeter also has a bit of similar problem being a bit too sweet but the soapiness does add points in my opinion. Hal is the sharpness of metal and ozone on your nose to me, not the smell of a hospital or sanitizer but the smell of something newly plastic. Skiing on Europa could be that but unfortunately it’s a little more niche.

Last but not least for now, let’s talk about am, there’s so many different ways to go with am, none being particularly good smelling but there’s so much you could do for him. You can go with the fact that he’s the whole planet, add in soil, rock,gasoline as accords, you can do the religious angle that he has that can pair well with other ideas, use wine or incense and wax like in with the candlestick by clue, you can do blood, sweat, tears and skin to represent the survivors who are now a part of him. Warm electronics, tar, gunpowder there’s so many distinct parts of him.

I think that the two I’m going to single out in terms of perfume are ones that take inspiration from what am’s original function was which is war. And that’s inexcusable evil by toskovat and Molotov cocktail by sylhouette perfumes

Inexcusable evil is infamous in the fragrance and perfume world for its incredibly strong violent smell, it’s a hospital ward ravaged by war. That is its story. Memories that are lost to the tide of battle. “The next war will decide not what is right but what is left.”

Molotov cocktail goes more personal but is still a war scent, the top notes are gasoline,vodka and pepper. the middle notes are blood sweat and rubber and the base is metal, iodine, musk and leather. More animalic and close but both work on the scales that am is a threat in, he’s both a world ender but also a personal tormentor, he spans the globe but also cannot leave his confinement

[youzicha]

transgenderer:

you guys remember the Future? greg egan makes me think about the Future. in the 90s it was common among the sciency to imagine specific discrete technologies that would make the lower-case-f future look like the Future. biotech and neurotech and nanotech. this was a pretty good prediction! the 80s looked like the Future to the 60s. not the glorious future, but certainly the Future. but i dont think now looks like the Future to the 00s. obviously its different. but come on. its not that different. and then finally we get a crazy tech breakthrough, imagegen and LLMs. and theyre really cool! but theyre not the Future. theyre…tractors, not airplanes, or even cars. they let us do things we could already do, with a machine. thats nice! that can cause qualitative changes! but its not the kind of breakthrough weve been hoping for. it doesnt make the world stop looking like the mid 2000s

(quote-replying since I wanted to riff on this part specifically)

I would like some more quantifiable test for this though! I always worry that it's a subjective thing based on when we transitioned from teenagers to adults; the things before is the consequential history inexorably leading up to the now, and the things afterwards are just some fads by the kids these days which you can safely ignore.

Was the 80s properly futuristic with respect to the 60s? Were they not supposed to have robots and space ships and nuclear power everywhere and a base on the moon? (Or, for that matter, full Communism? The Times They Are A-Changin', except they didn't.) I think I have seen some take that cyberpunk science fiction was a concerning sign that people had given up on the notion of progress and just imagined a grimy "more of the same"; a kind of cynical awakening from the sweeping dreams of science fiction a few decades earlier.

[bodyswap005]

Body Swap in Hollywood

Diego had been auditioning for movie roles for years, always hoping for that one break that would make him a star. But reality was harsh—he never landed any part. Each rejection hit him harder than the last, and his next audition would be his final chance. If he didn’t make it, his parents would force him to return to his small hometown, where dreams of acting felt impossible.

But this casting was different. A new movie starring Brad Pitt, his idol, was being shot in his city. That gave Diego hope. If he could get even the smallest role, he might seize the opportunity to learn and maybe, just maybe, become someone in the industry.

The day of the audition came, and Diego nervously but excitedly delivered his monologue with everything he had. In his mind, he was doing great. But the harsh reality struck when the casting director instantly rejected him.

Heartbroken, Diego stepped outside, tears filling his eyes. This had been his last shot. He sat down in a corner, closed his eyes, and let the despair wash over him. But suddenly, a woman’s voice pulled him out of his sorrow.

“Mr. William Bradley Pitt?” the voice asked.

Diego opened his eyes, confused. The room around him seemed to change, as though time itself was rewinding to the 1980s. He looked around, noticing how the walls and decor looked like something out of that era. Everything had a surreal, dreamlike quality.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pitt,” the voice repeated, “I just wanted to inform you that you’ve been cast in 21 Jump Street. Congratulations!”

“Wait, me?” Diego responded, not recognizing the voice that came out of his mouth. He touched his throat, startled by the unfamiliar tone. What was happening?

The woman smiled and left, leaving him in a daze. Desperate for answers, Diego looked for a bathroom. As he wandered the halls, he realized that everyone around him was dressed in '80s clothing. At first, he thought it must be a film set for a period piece, but something felt off.

Finally, he found a bathroom and rushed to wash his face. But when he looked into the mirror, he froze. The reflection staring back at him wasn’t his own. It was the face of a young Brad Pitt—blond hair, blue eyes, and the same age as Diego, 23.

“What the hell…?” he whispered, stunned.

His mind raced. Had he switched bodies? Had he traveled through time? Now, somehow, he was Brad Pitt, the rising actor at the start of his career. Diego couldn’t believe it, but soon realized that this was his chance to become the star he’d always dreamed of being. After all, he already knew what Brad’s future held.

Over time, Diego, in Brad’s body, made the most of every opportunity. He fought for the right roles, made key decisions in Brad’s career, and ensured his path to fame was even more successful than in the original timeline. Iconic films like Fight Club and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button still became part of his career, but there were some aspects Diego decided to change.

One of the biggest changes was in his personal life. Instead of following Brad Pitt’s original romantic path, Diego chose to live more authentically. The relationship with Angelina Jolie never happened. Instead, Diego, as Brad, explored his true identity and eventually married George Clooney. His life, both personally and professionally, took an entirely different and unexpected direction.

Diego’s old life faded away. Now, he was Brad Pitt, an alternate version of the star, living a life and career he had never imagined. But in the end, he achieved what he had always wanted—to be a Hollywood star, even if it was in someone else’s body.

And, in his own way, he found happiness in this new life, in a world that would never be the same.

[elminx]

Energy Update: September 2024

September is an “8” Universal Month [9 (September) + 8 (2024) = 17 = 1+7 = 8] in an “8” Universal Year. 8 months are represented by the infinity symbol and the ouroboros – they are everything, and nothing, all at once. Everything comes full circle in an 8 month, often represented by the highest highs and the lowest lows. What comes up must go down. But, alternatively, what goes does must come up. In this way, 8 months can be seen as a type of equalization. This is very in line with the astrology of the month, where we return, on an astrological level, to what has gone before – in more than one case, for the last time. This will be a month to revisit unfinished business.

The Set Up

We begin the month with the Sun in Virgo, Mercury moving through its post-retrograde shadow in Leo, Venus in Libra, Mars and Jupiter in Gemini, retrograde Saturn and retrograde Neptune in Pisces, Uranus in Taurus, and Pluto just barely in Aquarius. By month’s end, the Sun and Mercury will have entered Libra, Venus will have moved into Scorpio, Mars into Cancer, and Pluto backward into Capricorn.

The Nitty Gritty

Everything comes full circle this month as we enter our first “8” themed month in our “8” themed year. This may feel like a homecoming for some, but for others, it will be a roller coaster ride straight into unfinished business. If the feeling of the year has been “change before you have to,” this is your astrological reminder that we are approaching eclipse season, which always strongly emphasizes the HAVE To side of that equation. Not only will we be experiencing a lunar eclipse, but we will also see all of our personal planets change signs and Pluto transition back into Capricorn for the very last time. The world is shifting again, and we may need to find that solid ground will be difficult to come by in the weeks ahead.

Pluto

This year has been colored by Pluto, our dwarf planet of death, change, and transformation, which has been slowly transitioning from the cardinal earth sign Capricorn (where it has been sitting for the last 15 years) into the fixed air sign of Aquarius. Our outer planets move very slowly and dictate the overarching feeling of the times; their transitions from one sign to another generally coincide with intense societal changes and times of turmoil and transformation. On the 1st, Pluto moves back into Capricorn for the very last time.

Pluto plays the long game. Like its namesake, it slowly degrades the area of life it touches. In Capricorn, Pluto has been breaking down our outdated systems of government and institutions. Pluto is a cosmic reminder that all things must die in their time so that something new can be born in its place. We are experiencing the final death throws of what was – but it won’t be pretty. Like all earth signs, Capricorn can get exceedingly stuck in its ways, and it often takes more than one quake to shake things loose.

Because this happens on the first, the energy of Pluto entering Capricorn from the back end will set the tone for the entire month. You may feel like you are regressing in some way in your life. A situation may arise that you thought was taken care of. This will be strongest felt by those with personal planets around 00° in the earth or cardinal signs. Where Aquarius rules innovation and the future, Capricorn rules the past and tradition; society may take a step or two back away from progressive measures or future-focused thinking.

The good news is that this Pluto in Capricorn retrograde won’t last long. Pluto will station direct in October and reenter Aquarius for the final time (for the next 248 years) on 11/19/24. The 80 days in between may be quite challenging, though. Something may need to change – inside your life and in the world. It’s decision time. The big flex throughout September (and into October and November) will be to let go of what needs to leave your life.

Our Lights: the Sun and the Moon

Our Sun will be in Virgo and Libra all month long, which means that this month marks the transition from Summer (Virgo) to Autumn (Libra) on 9/22. Also, because our lunar nodes will remain on the Aries-Libra axis through the new year, we are entering our second eclipse season. The Sun in Virgo will oppose retrograde Saturn in Pisces on Sunday, 9/8, which may show up in our lives as a check-in with our goals and what we must do to stay in alignment. Remember, we are in an “8” month in an “8” year, so things may feel all over the place at times – it’s okay, now come back to the center.

Virgo season tends to be about cleaning up, physically and metaphorically. The summer is drawing to a close, and it is time to prepare for the new season. As mentioned above, this whole year has been about endings and the hint of new beginnings (represented by Pluto’s planetary movements), and it may feel like we are down to the wire. This month’s big flex will be to take the new moon on 9/2 to clean up what you can and then let the lunar eclipse on 9/17 take you where it’s going to.

Our new moon on 9/2 is at 11° Virgo and is a 3/2 new moon.

6 (Virgo Moon) + 6 (Virgo Sun) = 12 = 1+2 = 3. 3 (Virgo New Moon) + 8 (September 2024) = 11 = 1+1 = 2.

The new moon is relatively unaspected, so we look back again to the numerology. Notably, the new moon carries “11” energy twice over; first, it falls in the 11th degree of Virgo, and, secondly, it is an 11/2 new moon. This is one of three Master Numbers in numerology – it heightens the energy of the final number (2). The number 2 is one of movement and connections – with the number 2, you are either adding (1+1=2) or subtracting (2-1=1). Through this, we can infer that this is a new moon that will get things moving.

Remember, Virgo is a sign of refinement. As the second of our two Mercury-ruled signs, Virgo lives in the mind, but rather than being the Idea Man (Gemini, nongendered), Mercury begins the work of perfecting and honing down in Virgo. This can feel like criticism (especially if you don’t have Virgo in your natal chart), so stay aware of touchiness in yourself and others around the new moon. Clean it up. Fix it up. Do what you’ve been putting off. Future-proof your life. Virgo’s new moon energy has a lot in common with the energy of Mercury retrograde, but it will pass far more quickly.

The Sun in Virgo will square off with Jupiter in Gemini around 9/12, which may feel unlucky but is, more likely than not, simply a bit challenging. Remember, Virgo is LOOKING to refine. That challenge is there so that you will better understand what you have to do.

Our lunar eclipse on Tuesday, 9/17, will be at 25° Pisces and is a 9/8 full moon.

12 (Pisces Moon) + 6 (Virgo Sun) = 18 = 1+8 = 9. 9 (Pisces full moon) + 8 (September 2024) = 17 = 1+7 = 8.

This is the real deal (even by Eclipse standards) due to a couple of major planetary aspects happening around the 17th, most notably Mars in Cancer forming a rough cardinal square with our lunar nodes in Aries and Libra.

But wait, Minx – how come the lunar nodes are in Aries and Libra, but the eclipsed moon is in Pisces? This is our first indication that our lunar nodes are reaching the end of their stay in their current signs. The lunar nodes are sitting at 06° and will move on to the Pisces-Virgo axis early in 2025. While this switch happens, we often see off-element eclipses that fall in the “wrong signs.” In this way, we can use this early Pisces lunar eclipse as a bit of an augury of what will come in the three years ahead when the lunar nodes transit Pisces and Virgo.

The eclipse won’t be close to the lunar nodes (11°), but Mars will be in a tight t-square, so expect tensions to be high. This is undoubtedly red-flag weather, so lie low and stay out of the arena if possible. When Mars is poorly aspected, the chance of violence goes up. We are also experiencing two strong oppositions on either side of the eclipse – Venus in Libra will oppose Chiron on Monday, 9/16, and Mercury in Virgo will oppose retrograde Saturn on Wednesday, 9/18. Note that all three of our personal planets are involved in the days around this eclipse – it will feel personal for most of us.

Standard eclipse advice applies here: Eclipses (like the sign of Virgo) tend to be a hit of instant alignment. The lunar nodes can be viewed as an arrow in the sky pointing from the South Node and towards the North. In our natal birth charts, the nodes show the natural flow of energy in our lives, and in the transits, they show the natural flow of energy happening at the time of the transit. Age-old astrological advice is to TRUST what happens on the days of the eclipses and, to a lesser degree, on the days between the set of eclipses, which dictates the “season.” Eclipses have a way of opening some doors and closing others. I’ll write more about the eclipse as we approach this lunar event.

Mercury

Mercury has finally exited its retrograde at the end of August and will chug its way quickly through the last bit of Leo, through Virgo, and into Libra by the end of the month. Virgo is the sign of Mercury’s domicile, so 9/9 to 9/26 will be an excellent time for all Mercurial pursuits (writing/language/technology/travel).

Keep in mind that before we get there, Mercury still needs to retrace the last dregs of its post-retrograde shadow. This includes the third of its trines with Chiron in Aries on 9/2 (the day of the new moon) – this could bring up some touchy bits from our total lunar eclipse back in April, which included a conjunction with both Mercury and Chiron not far from the spot where Chiron still sits in Aries today. Chiron spots can feel very touchy if you aren’t used to them (see also: don’t have a strong Chiron element in your birth chart or haven’t undergone a serious Chiron transit). A good way of looking at it is that the pain is there to show us what isn’t working so we can fix it. Again, this will be a month of refinement.

Mercury exits its post-retrograde shadow at 04° Virgo on 9/11 and doesn’t make any other aspects until it opposes retrograde Saturn in Pisces on 9/18. This is our planetary check-in or check-up. As mentioned in the section about our Luminaries, this happens a day after our lunar eclipse, so it may serve as the cosmic right time to take stock of what has happened and what we can do about it. Mercury in Virgo is very proactive, and Saturn wants us to be our best selves – we CAN use this opposition to our advantage even if, on the outside, it doesn’t seem advantageous.

Mercury squares off with Jupiter in Gemini on 9/22, making for a tense day of many misunderstandings. You may wake up the next morning to realize those mountains were mere molehills. Don’t take things too seriously, and it will pass quickly.

As Mercury moves towards its ingress into Libra on 9/26, they will trine Uranus in Taurus, oppose Neptune in Pisces, and trine Pluto in Capricorn – this is business as usual and will probably pass unnoticed.

Once Mercury enters Libra, they will meet up with the Sun and the South Node in an early stellium, which may illuminate (the Sun) new ways of thinking (Mercury) about our past (South Node). We are deep in eclipse season and should meet the last days of September with our eyes wide open.

Venus

Venus will be in the sign of her domicile, Libra, until 9/22, when she enters Scorpio, the sign of her detriment. In Libra, Venus can be entirely consumed with the ideals of traditional relationship roles, and in Scorpio, she turns her eyes towards secrets and – in the worst-case scenario – revenge! The first half of the month strongly supports relationships (at least the easily codified and societally acceptable ones), but things are not always what they seem with Venus. Keep in mind that Venus in Libra can sometimes be a bit controlling – especially regarding how she wants her relationship to appear. As Venus enters Scorpio, she can quickly become the scorned lover – even if she hasn’t actually been scorned!

In Libra, Venus can become so obsessed with her ideal of a relationship that she refuses to look at reality. This may come to a head on 9/4 as she meets up in conjunction with the South Node at 06° Libra. Relationships of all kinds will be on the chopping block that week, but most significantly, those that aren’t built on mutual support and understanding. Our lunar nodes on the Aries-Libra axis have been forcing us all to confront our personal biases around Independence versus Togetherness, and this time may be especially fraught for couples with different needs on this spectrum.

On 9/15, Venus trines Jupiter in Gemini, which is a good day to have a good day. On 9/16, she opposes Chiron in Aries, which might be a wake-up call to where we live in excess or otherwise outside our means or comfort zones. We may have to pay for the overindulgences of the day prior. She will trine Pluto in Capricorn right before she enters Scorpio, a reminder that we can’t always carry our past into the future.

While she is in Scorpio, we have to remember to watch our tongues and keep a check on our revenge fantasies. If the person did you wrong, fine, but if your own expectations just hurt you, you may need to check yourself through the end of the month.

Mars

Mars spends most of the month in Cancer, the sign of its fall. That means from 9/22 to 9/30, both of our relationship planets will be in uncomfortable positions. It’s worth noting that Mars will be in the sign of its fall earlier in the month, while Venus will be in her domicile.

Relationships may be tense all month long. Mars in Cancer is naturally square to Venus in Libra. Though the two won’t meet up in exact aspect with one another here, it still shows that partners in any given relationship may not see eye to eye with one another (regardless of gender). Mars will be better aligned with Venus in Scorpio, but neither is a peaceful or kind placement for relationship continuity. Just be aware and stay aware all month long. People, in general, are likely to be moody and a touch emotionally manipulative.

This spark exists all month long, and when Mars in Cancer forms a cardinal t-square in the skies as we enter eclipse season, we add the fuel. The problem that Mars in Cancer has is that Cancer’s natural motis apprendi is to move in a sideways direction (like its namesake, the crab), which often appears to be subversive or manipulative to others. Aries is all forward motion and wants nothing to do with this sidestepping, and Libra can tolerate it, but it’s not quite their way, either. This is a battle of the Cardinal Giants, and of any of the modalities, cardinal signs are the ones that don’t back down.

Mars is our problem child of the month; emphasis on the term child here. Mars in Cancer can be at his most petulant – throwing a full-on “Don’t tell me what to do! Don’t tell me what to do! Don’t tell me what to do!” temper tantrum because he didn’t get his way. Whatever comes up for us during this upcoming eclipse season, Mars is not going to like it. Not one bit.

Mars never likes giving up control, that’s for sure. It’s worth noting that we are working our way towards a Mars retrograde in Leo in December. You could say that the pumps are getting primed for a very real meltdown yet to come.

At the end of the month, on 9/30, Mars trines retrograde Saturn in Pisces, which is yet another cosmic check-up on ourselves to round out the month. We end the month in the middle of an eclipse season that spans the line between Aries-Libra and Pisces-Virgo, which means that from a lunar nodal perspective, we are about to pass from sign 1 back into sign 12. This mimics the energy of Pluto reentering Capricorn for one last stay. As above, so below.

The month ends much as it begins. The double loop of the 8 always completes itself.

Looking Ahead

October is Libra and Scorpio season. We will have an eclipsed new moon in Libra and a full moon in Aries later in the month. Jupiter will station retrograde, and Neptune will station direct. Once eclipse season ends, we will have a bit of a reprieve until Mars enters Leo in November.

The Details

9/1 – Uranus retrogrades 27° Taurus, retrograde Pluto enters Capricorn (29°) 9/2 – New Moon 11° Virgo, Mercury in Leo trine Chiron in Aries 9/3 – Mars in Gemini square retrograde Neptune in Pisces 9/4 – Mars enters Cancer, Venus conjunct South Node in Libra/opposed North Node in Aries 06° 9/7 – Mercury in Aries square retrograde Uranus in Taurus 9/8 – Sun in Virgo opposed retrograde Saturn in Pisces 9/9 – Mercury enters Virgo 9/11 – Mercury exits its post-retrograde shadow 04° Virgo 9/12 – Sun in Virgo square Jupiter in Gemini 9/15 – Venus in Libra trine Jupiter in Gemini 9/16 – Venus in Libra opposed Chiron in Aries, Mars in Cancer square the lunar nodes in Aries/Libra 9/17 – Lunar Eclipse 25° Pisces 9/18 – Mercury in Virgo opposed retrograde Saturn in Pisces 9/19 – Sun in Virgo trine retrograde Uranus in Taurus 9/20 – Sun in Virgo opposed retrograde Neptune in Pisces 9/21 – Mercury in Virgo square Jupiter in Gemini 9/22 – Sun in Virgo trine retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Sun enters Libra, Venus in Libra square retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Venus enters Scorpio 9/24 – Mercury in Virgo trine retrograde Uranus in Taurus 9/25 – Mercury in Virgo opposed retrograde Neptune in Pisces 9/26 – Mercury in Virgo square retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Mercury enters Libra 9/28 – Sun in Libra conjunct South Node/opposed North Node in Aries 06° 9/29 – Mercury in Libra conjunct South Node/opposed North Node in Aries 06° 9/30 – Sun conjunct Mercury 08° Libra, Mars in Cancer trine retrograde Saturn in Pisces

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[ivyinne]

I feel like I'm in the minority here but I just feel like... I don't like Stuart. And I don't mean I think he's boring or reprehensible or a badly written character, I specifically mean that I don't think his relationship with Neil is as affectionate or parental as people make it out to be.

Fanon Stuart is overwhelmingly portrayed as someone who cares about Neil. Being actively involved in his life, sometimes to an unhealthy extent. Fanfics even go so far as to have Stuart fight for Neil if he ever incurs the Moriyamas' disfavour — and I love that relationship. I love that exploration, I love seeing a Neil who at least has his mother's family in his corner.

But in canon, we hardly have any evidence to support that version of Stuart. All of their encounters have an element of business to them; Stuart rescues Neil from Nathan but that wasn't what he came down there to do — he came there because he just really, really disliked Nathan. Finding Neil was unexpected, and the first thing Stuart did was leave him there as a distraction for the FBI.

Still, it's not like he could have helped things on that front. The same way he tells Neil he can't protect Neil after the whole deal with the Moriyamas has been struck — it's just not something that can be helped. In TSC, Stuart comes to meet Neil to walk him through a plan designed to protect the Moriyamas — because that's who Stuart has allied with, and that's who Neil belongs to. It's a business transaction with a common denominator, and I see very little evidence that these two have the sort of relationship fanon maintains they do.

I know there are crumbs here and there to indicate that they do have a positive relationship, I just don't think they consider each other family, or that there is even any uncle-nephew bonding going in. Neil orders the hit on Grayson, and Stuart treats it like it's a query from a stranger. Really, Stuart? It's your organisation and you're not even gonna offer your own nephew a family discount?! I know Neil has his blood money but he's spent so much of it — and he's a student!! Who has pledged 80% of his future earnings to a crime family!! Maybe just do him a solid this once?

I think it's best explained by this example — in the EC we came to know that the Moriyamas will eventually end up getting rid of Stuart in favour of another leader within the Hatford set-up, and that before doing so they will ask Neil if he's going to be a problem when it happens. And Neil will be pretty broken up about it, but he's certainly not going to be a problem.

Which is the crux of the matter: as the canon dynamics stand, Neil and Stuart's relationship is simply too regulated by a careful balance of politics and crime and power for them to ever view each other as family. They operate in fucked-up contexts and their normal interactions are too much the product of belonging to crime families and knowing the price of necessity. Do I think they're callous about each other? No. But there's certainly no overflowing familial warmth there either.

I love that fandom explores the potential of what their dynamic could have been. But I don't think it's canon. Feel free to share any disagreements or alternate reading you have of the text, though, because I'm really open to changing my mind! And I'm also really curious about why a large part of the fandom has interpreted Stuart as having such strong pride and attachment over Neil in the first place.

[fiery-emblems]

Like a lot of people I sometimes ponder what my favorite characters might look like if they were allowed to grow older. I've been seeing a lot of good designs for older Soren specifically so of course I got to thinkin' about my own take!

Some notes on design process under the cut cause I think we should all share our thought process once in a while:

So, for this I didn't want to just want to go with "Soren, exactly the same but older". My thought was "if I was actually in charge of designing for a fire emblem game, one that takes place in a future Tellius perhaps and featuring this character as a guest (a la Tiki or the Awakening trio, which they should keep doing BTW) how would I go about doing that".

You have to think of course, about what the character is actually doing and what their role is. It seems pretty likely that after RD Soren is either traveling the world with Ike or wandering around (probably the former) so "traveler" was the theme. As far as the overall shape and the outer layer especially it seemed obvious to reference the dragons, who are also travelers:

I don't want to just straight up copy the look of the robes though for a couple of reasons. 1) that's boring and the idea here is for an updated visual style 2) I wanted to combine different elements to evoke a feeling of mixing cultures. I figure if this scenario takes place say, 80 years in the future or something, fashions will have moved forward and perhaps you would see elements of beorc and laguz fashions mixed together. Especially for Soren given what he is. So I went with an inner layer that looks more Victorian puffy sleeves (which you don't actually see a lot of in PoR or RD since the characters favor more stiff looking tunics, but they are there and I figured its the future and maybe Crimea has entered its puffy shirt era) with the outer layer looking more like what the dragons wear. 3) Staying with robes seems kind of stagnant. I imagine that a much older Soren who's lived a good life along side his love has probably chilled out a little bit. A little bit. 4) I think having more leg visible gives a more adult silhouette.

The other consideration is the hairstyle. As much as I love Soren being a carbon copy of Rajaion, it wouldn't be the most interesting design choice if I was the character designer of a game to just copy a past design 1 for 1. So I decided to just lengthen his hair a little bit and give it a look like its been blown around in the wind. Soren is the windy guy and I'm assuming he would be more chill here so why not let it be loose and free? This also helps avoid him just looking like Sephiran cause I see that a lot too lol.

Yes I also changed the shape of his brand. I've always been fascinated by the fact that it changed shape between games. I know it was likely just a design oversight but what if it changed because he isn't an adult yet and it changes more as he ages?

Lastly there's the why. Why would your fav show up as a guest character? What would he even do?? Well I think Soren could be really fun actually if we assume he went with Ike and that Ike kept Ragnell with him. I'm picturing a situation where Ike has lived out his natural life and died, leaving Soren to return to Tellius alone in order to tell Mist's family what happened (cause Ike just left without telling anyone anything lol), and to return Ragnell to them. Instead some conflict breaks out, you know how it is, and the more chilled out Soren is convinced to bestow the sword onto the new starry-eyed lord who reminds him of his beloved.

Oh yeah. I can see it now.