#this isn't even the stupidest one so far

[dkettchen]

I stg everytime I see someone in the local queer community who I'm like "isn't that (x person)" and then talk myself out of that assumption, it ALWAYS ENDS UP BEING THE PERSON I THOUGHT IT WAS AAAAHH

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What the fuck is a PBM?

TOMORROW (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Terminal-stage capitalism owes its long senescence to its many defensive mechanisms, and it's only by defeating these that we can put it out of its misery. "The Shield of Boringness" is one of the necrocapitalist's most effective defenses, so it behooves us to attack it head-on.

The Shield of Boringness is Dana Claire's extremely useful term for anything so dull that you simply can't hold any conception of it in your mind for any length of time. In the finance sector, they call this "MEGO," which stands for "My Eyes Glaze Over," a term of art for financial arrangements made so performatively complex that only the most exquisitely melted brain-geniuses can hope to unravel their spaghetti logic. The rest of us are meant to simply heft those thick, dense prospectuses in two hands, shrug, and assume, "a pile of shit this big must have a pony under it."

MEGO and its Shield of Boringness are key to all of terminal-stage capitalism's stupidest scams. Cloaking obvious swindles in a lot of complex language and Byzantine payment schemes can make them seem respectable just long enough for the scammers to relieve you of all your inconvenient cash and assets, though, eventually, you're bound to notice that something is missing.

If you spent the years leading up to the Great Financial Crisis baffled by "CDOs," "synthetic CDOs," "ARMs" and other swindler nonsense, you experienced the Shield of Boringness. If you bet your house and/or your retirement savings on these things, you experienced MEGO. If, after the bubble popped, you finally came to understand that these "exotic financial instruments" were just scams, you experienced Stein's Law ("anything that can't go forever eventually stops"). If today you no longer remember what a CDO is, you are once again experiencing the Shield of Boringness.

As bad as 2008 was, it wasn't even close to the end of terminal stage capitalism. The market has soldiered on, with complex swindles like carbon offset trading, metaverse, cryptocurrency, financialized solar installation, and (of course) AI. In addition to these new swindles, we're still playing the hits, finding new ways to make the worst scams of the 2000s even worse.

That brings me to the American health industry, and the absurdly complex, ridiculously corrupt Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs), a pathology that has only metastasized since 2008.

On at least 20 separate occasions, I have taken it upon myself to figure out how the PBM swindle works, and nevertheless, every time they come up, I have to go back and figure it out again, because PBMs have the most powerful Shield of Boringness out of the whole Monster Manual of terminal-stage capitalism's trash mobs.

PBMs are back in the news because the FTC is now suing the largest of these for their role in ripping off diabetics with sky-high insulin prices. This has kicked off a fresh round of "what the fuck is a PBM, anyway?" explainers of extremely variable quality. Unsurprisingly, the best of these comes from Matt Stoller:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-lina-khan-pharma

Stoller starts by pointing out that Americans have a proud tradition of getting phucked by pharma companies. As far back as the 1950s, Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver was holding hearings on the scams that pharma companies were using to ensure that Americans paid more for their pills than virtually anyone else in the world.

But since the 2010s, Americans have found themselves paying eye-popping, sky-high, ridiculous drug prices. Eli Lilly's Humolog insulin sold for $21 in 1999; by 2017, the price was $274 – a 1,200% increase! This isn't your grampa's price gouging!

Where do these absurd prices come from? The story starts in the 2000s, when the GW Bush administration encouraged health insurers to create "high deductible" plans, where patients were expected to pay out of pocket for receiving care, until they hit a multi-thousand-dollar threshold, and then their insurance would kick in. Along with "co-pays" and other junk fees, these deductibles were called "cost sharing," and they were sold as a way to prevent the "abuse" of the health care system.

The economists who crafted terminal-stage capitalism's intellectual rationalizations claimed the reason Americans paid so much more for health care than their socialized-medicine using cousins in the rest of the world had nothing to do with the fact that America treats health as a source of profits, while the rest of the world treats health as a human right.

No, the actual root of America's health industry's problems was the moral defects of Americans. Because insured Americans could just go see the doctor whenever they felt like it, they had no incentive to minimize their use of the system. Any time one of these unhinged hypochondriacs got a little sniffle, they could treat themselves to a doctor's visit, enjoying those waiting-room magazines and the pleasure of arranging a sick day with HR, without bearing any of the true costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/the-doctrine-of-moral-hazard/

"Cost sharing" was supposed to create "skin in the game" for every insured American, creating a little pain-point that stung you every time you thought about treating yourself to a luxurious doctor's visit. Now, these payments bit hardest on the poorest workers, because if you're making minimum wage, at $10 co-pay hurts a lot more than it does if you're making six figures. What's more, VPs and the C-suite were offered "gold-plated" plans with low/no deductibles or co-pays, because executives understand the value of a dollar in the way that mere working slobs can't ever hope to comprehend. They can be trusted to only use the doctor when it's truly warranted.

So now you have these high-deductible plans creeping into every workplace. Then along comes Obama and the Affordable Care Act, a compromise that maintains health care as a for-profit enterprise (still not a human right!) but seeks to create universal coverage by requiring every American to buy a plan, requiring insurers to offer plans to every American, and uses public money to subsidize the for-profit health industry to glue it together.

Predictably, the cheapest insurance offered on the Obamacare exchanges – and ultimately, by employers – had sky-high deductibles and co-pays. That way, insurers could pocket a fat public subsidy, offer an "insurance" plan that was cheap enough for even the most marginally employed people to afford, but still offer no coverage until their customers had spent thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in a given year.

That's the background: GWB created high-deductible plans, Obama supercharged them. Keep that in your mind as we go through the MEGO procedures of the PBM sector.

Your insurer has a list of drugs they'll cover, called the "formulary." The formulary also specifies how much the insurance company is willing to pay your pharmacist for these drugs. Creating the formulary and paying pharmacies for dispensing drugs is a lot of tedious work, and insurance outsources this to third parties, called – wait for it – Pharmacy Benefits Managers.

The prices in the formulary the PBM prepares for your insurance company are called the "list prices." These are meant to represent the "sticker price" of the drug, what a pharmacist would charge you if you wandered in off the street with no insurance, but somehow in possession of a valid prescription.

But, as Stoller writes, these "list prices" aren't actually ever charged to anyone. The list price is like the "full price" on the pricetags at a discount furniture place where everything is always "on sale" at 50% off – and whose semi-disposable sofas and balsa-wood dining room chairs are never actually sold at full price.

One theoretical advantage of a PBM is that it can get lower prices because it bargains for all the people in a given insurer's plan. If you're the pharma giant Sanofi and you want your Lantus insulin to be available to any of the people who must use OptumRX's formulary, you have to convince OptumRX to include you in that formulary.

OptumRX – like all PBMs – demands "rebates" from pharma companies if they want to be included in the formulary. On its face, this is similar to the practices of, say, NICE – the UK agency that bargains for medicine on behalf of the NHS, which also bargains with pharma companies for access to everyone in the UK and gets very good deals as a result.

But OptumRX doesn't bargain for a lower list price. They bargain for a bigger rebate. That means that the "price" is still very high, but OptumRX ends up paying a tiny fraction of it, thanks to that rebate. In the OptumRX formulary, Lantus insulin lists for $403. But Sanofi, who make Lantus, rebate $339 of that to OptumRX, leaving just $64 for Lantus.

Here's where the scam hits. Your insurer charges you a deductible based on the list price – $404 – not on the $64 that OptumRX actually pays for your insulin. If you're in a high-deductible plan and you haven't met your cap yet, you're going to pay $404 for your insulin, even though the actual price for it is $64.

Now, you'd think that your insurer would put a stop to this. They chose the PBM, the PBM is ripping off their customers, so it's their job to smack the PBM around and make it cut this shit out. So why would the insurers tolerate this nonsense?

Here's why: the PBMs are divisions of the big health insurance companies. Unitedhealth owns OptumRx; Aetna owns Caremark, and Cigna owns Expressscripts. So it's not the PBM that's ripping you off, it's your own insurance company. They're not just making you pay for drugs that you're supposedly covered for – they're pocketing the deductible you pay for those drugs.

Now, there's one more entity with power over the PBM that you'd hope would step in on your behalf: your boss. After all, your employer is the entity that actually chooses the insurer and negotiates with them on your behalf. Your boss is in the driver's seat; you're just along for the ride.

It would be pretty funny if the answer to this was that the health insurance company bought your employer, too, and so your boss, the PBM and the insurer were all the same guy, busily swapping hats, paying for a call center full of tormented drones who each have three phones on their desks: one labeled "insurer"; the second, "PBM" and the final one "HR."

But no, the insurers haven't bought out the company you work for (yet). Rather, they've bought off your boss – they're sharing kickbacks with your employer for all the deductibles and co-pays you're being suckered into paying. There's so much money (your money) sloshing around in the PBM scamoverse that anytime someone might get in the way of you being ripped off, they just get cut in for a share of the loot.

That is how the PBM scam works: they're fronts for health insurers who exploit the existence of high-deductible plans in order to get huge kickbacks from pharma makers, and massive fees from you. They split the loot with your boss, whose payout goes up when you get screwed harder.

But wait, there's more! After all, Big Pharma isn't some kind of easily pushed-around weakling. They're big. Why don't they push back against these massive rebates? Because they can afford to pay bribes and smaller companies making cheaper drugs can't. Whether it's a little biotech upstart with a cheaper molecule, or a generics maker who's producing drugs at a fraction of the list price, they just don't have the giant cash reserves it takes to buy their way into the PBMs' formularies. Doubtless, the Big Pharma companies would prefer to pay smaller kickbacks, but from Big Pharma's perspective, the optimum amount of bribes extracted by a PBM isn't zero – far from it. For Big Pharma, the optimal number is one cent higher than "the maximum amount of bribes that a smaller company can afford."

The purpose of a system is what it does. The PBM system makes sure that Americans only have access to the most expensive drugs, and that they pay the highest possible prices for them, and this enriches both insurance companies and employers, while protecting the Big Pharma cartel from upstarts.

Which is why the FTC is suing the PBMs for price-fixing. As Stoller points out, they're using their powers under Section 5 of the FTC Act here, which allows them to shut down "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The case will be adjudicated by an administrative law judge, in a process that's much faster than a federal court case. Once the FTC proves that the PBM scam is illegal when applied to insulin, they'll have a much easier time attacking the scam when it comes to every other drug (the insulin scam has just about run its course, with federally mandated $35 insulin coming online, just as a generation of post-insulin diabetes treatments hit the market).

Obviously the PBMs aren't taking this lying down. Cigna/Expressscripts has actually sued the FTC for libel over the market study it conducted, in which the agency described in pitiless, factual detail how Cigna was ripping us all off. The case is being fought by a low-level Reagan-era monster named Rick Rule, whom Stoller characterizes as a guy who "hangs around in bars and picks up lonely multi-national corporations" (!!).

The libel claim is a nonstarter, but it's still wild. It's like one of those movies where they want to show you how bad the cockroaches are, so there's a bit where the exterminator shows up and the roaches form a chorus line and do a kind of Busby Berkeley number:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/news/2024-09-20-the-carlton-report

So here we are: the FTC has set out to euthanize some rentiers, ridding the world of a layer of useless economic middlemen whose sole reason for existing is to make pharmaceuticals as expensive as possible, by colluding with the pharma cartel, the insurance cartel and your boss. This conspiracy exists in plain sight, hidden by the Shield of Boringness. If I've done my job, you now understand how this MEGO scam works – and if you forget all that ten minutes later (as is likely, given the nature of MEGO), that's OK: just remember that this thing is a giant fucking scam, and if you ever need to refresh yourself on the details, you can always re-read this post.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[rogueddie]

Helpless T | 497 words Prompt for steddielovemonth: Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time

Steve Harrington is smart.

It's a fact, something that Eddie is entirely unwilling to move an inch on. He knows Steve is smart, far smarter than he realizes himself, and especially smarter than any of the kids give him credit for.

But, quickly, he learns not to defend Steve on his intelligence. He quickly notices how often Steve uses their assumptions.

Sometimes he'll use their assumptions to get away with shit.

Usually he uses it to play the fool, playing a little into slapstick to make the group laugh. It's so easy for him to lighten the mood, knowing exactly what each person finds especially funny.

For some reason, when it's just him and Eddie, he doesn't play into the idiot role. He's calmer, relaxed... comfortable.

"One time I got Dustin to snort," Steve says, brushing past Eddie questions. "I've been trying to get him to do it again ever since. You shoulda seen his face. Priceless."

That was a day that Eddie tries his hardest to forget though.

He'd been so distracted when Steve lifted his shirt by the hem to wipe at his face that he'd walked straight into the sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard.

Steve had rushed over, panicked, and fussed over him, despite Eddie's mumbles assurance that he was fine.

"I've done it before," Steve says, patting him on the shoulder. "It's an easy mistake to make. But there's a trick, look, here, watch. This bit, here, is only visible when the door is open."

Other than filing the fact away, Eddie didn't think anything about that specific detail.

It wasn't until, two weeks later, when the kids were arguing over something small and starting to get heated that-

Steve walks straight into the glass door, bouncing off with a comical 'thump'.

The kids are immediately distracted from their argument, Max loudly cackling, Dustin yelling his teasing comments over the burst of noise.

"Hey, come on, how was I supposed to know?" Steve complains, rubbing at his head. "It's glass, man, you can't see it!"

"Oh my god," Mike groans, rolling his eyes. "It's so obvious!"

"Alright, genius, just because you've apparently got it all figured out-" Steve taunts, hands on hips.

"You don't have to be a genius, you just need eyes!"

"Not even," Max adds. "I can get through it fine."

Eddies attention is locked on Steve, who's defences only get progressively worse.

But, when he catches Eddie's eye, he shifts a little. Like he knows he's been caught, like he knows the gig is up.

He holds a finger to his lips for a moment, winking, before turning back to the kids.

"Colored glass doesn't really count as glass though, right? That's visible. Glass isn't."

Eddie shakes his head, biting back a laugh at how much louder the kids get.

He sends Steve a subtle thumbs up when he glances over again, resolutely ignoring the butterflies wiring around his stomach when Steve grins back, wide, eyes crinkling.

[ckret2]

Chapter 44 of human Bill Cipher wishing he was trapped in the Mystery Shack again:

The Eclipse: Part 2

Gravity is disappearing, and to find out why, Ford's inspecting the sites where the fabric of spacetime might have been damaged by Weirdmageddon. Dipper's glad to come along.

Bill really, really, really isn't.

"I am genuinely offering you helpful advice, that also happens to be self-serving because you idiots wouldn't trust me if I claimed I was being charitable anyway," Bill went on, as he'd been going on for the past five minutes. "This isn't a trick! I'm not running a con! I'm completely serious: being outside during an eclipse is the stupidest thing you could do. You don't want to watch it, I want to watch it even less, staying inside is mutually beneficial!"

"Do you think I should have brought my camera?" Dipper asked, determinedly ignoring Bill as he trailed behind them.

"What for?" Ford asked, also ignoring Bill.

"I've been trying to expand my Guide to the Unexplained series this summer—I've been doing longer episodes, a couple of them are ten minutes—but I wasn't sure if we'd see anything cool and my backpack was already heavy..."

"Hmm. I suspect either there won't be anything worth seeing—or, if there is, we'll be far too busy dealing with it to record footage."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "I guess you're right."

"This is why my journals have more illustrations than photographs."

Bill let out a loud groan of frustration before jogging to catch up with the humans. He checked the trail ahead to make sure he wasn't about to trip, then turned to walk sideways, facing Dipper and Ford as they walked. "Okay, fine, you win. So, just to be clear—the only reason you two are dragging me out here is to check a few locations for these imaginary 'micro-rips' you think are shredding the fabric of reality apart. Right? As soon as we've checked the three places you want, it's over, you admit you were wrong, and we go back to the shack?"

"Yes, Cipher," Ford sighed. "Once we've checked those locations, if we can't find evidence that any of the areas of most concern are near the one hundred thousand micro-rip danger threshold, we'll go home. Since dimensional rips could pop up anywhere around Gravity Falls, there's a possibility there could be clusters over the danger threshold away from the three areas of concern, but with no way to guess where they might be—"

"Fine. Then let's get this over with," Bill said. "Totality is in two days, if we're back home by tomorrow night we'll still avoid it. But if you try to drag me outside again after we get back, I'm hitting everyone with the Amnesia Limina curse and nobody's going outside."

With that threat delivered, Bill cartwheeled ahead of the humans, landed on his feet, and bounded ahead in long moonwalking lopes.

"Any idea why gravity's going down faster for him than the rest of town?" Dipper asked.

"Only that, if there are rips opening between us and the Nightmare Realm, perhaps they're giving Bill back some of his powers," Ford said. "Perhaps his powers are stored in the Nightmare Realm. Although I don't know how that would work." It was a better explanation than Bill's claim that he could just float better than humans, anyway.

The bracelet around Dipper's wrist momentarily tightened as Bill reached the far end of his invisible tether, then loosened as Dipper continue forward; and then tightened a second time, and a third time. From up the trail, Bill shouted, "Would you hurry up!" 

"You slow down! Some of us still have to walk!"

But even so, the slowly decreasing gravity was making the hike noticeably easier. Their backpacks sat lighter on their shoulders, and each stride seemed to carry them a little higher and farther than they expected. They startled a deer, and then the deer startled itself with how high it jumped.

"On second thought, it might not be a good idea to take him back to the shack while this is going on," Ford said. "Even if there aren't enough micro-rips in the basement, I'm not wholly convinced it won't end up the epicenter of whatever's about to happen. And if Bill wants so badly to be so close to it..."

From further up the trail, Bill shouted, "If you were any more paranoid, you'd be asking your own shadow why it's following you!"

"If you had access to any more of your powers, you'd be possessing my shadow!"

"Ha!" Bill had stopped to perch on a fallen tree that on any other day would have been far too slender to hold an adult's weight, balanced on it like a tightrope, and waited there for the others to catch up. "Fine, we don't need to go back to the shack, whatever makes you happy! As long as we get inside. Stanley's camper, a motel room, the old Corduroy cabin—hey, the Northwest place is pretty empty these days, isn't it? Is Specs renting out rooms, or...?"

"I am not taking you to Northwest Manor," Ford said. "Fiddleford's had enough trouble without letting you into his life again." Although that was only one of several reasons Ford wanted to keep them apart. For Fiddleford's safety, they couldn't risk Bill finding out that Fiddleford had been told his identity; and, now that Bill had confessed he could see through walls, they couldn't give him a chance to peer through the manor's walls and discover the ongoing paradox fuel synthesis project.

Bill laughed in disbelief. "Oh now you're concerned about somebody else's wellbeing, when it's his—fine! Fine, fine, fine! That's just fine! That's great! Terrific!" He hopped off his perch. "No evidence of self-preservation and let's not even think about respecting the triangle's wishes, but when the hillbilly might be in imaginary danger—!"

"That 'hillbilly' is one of the most brilliant men alive and the best friend I've ever known—"

"Ha!" Angrily, Bill yelled, "Some best friend, he erased you straight out of his head! You don't even know what a best friend is!"

Ford winced—he knew he'd never been much of a friend back to Fiddleford—but while he was gearing himself up to defend himself against whatever accusation Bill lobbed next, Bill turned away from the humans and stormed up the trail, leaving them behind as the weaving path took him behind several trees.

Every couple of steps, Dipper's bracelet twitched against his wrist as Bill tried to get even further ahead and was thwarted. He chuckled. "Do you think you touched a nerve?"

The corner of Ford's mouth quirked up; but he shook his head. "He's just mad he's not getting his way. As usual."

####

"I take it this is our first destination," Bill said, hands planted on his hips, looking around the forest. "This looks like the area where Shooting Star gave me the rift."

Dipper said, "You mean the place where you tricked—"

Bill shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes. "Anyway, that aside, all the glued-shut wormholes and this are a bigger hint." He tapped the tip of one dress shoe—dusty after a walk in the woods—at the start of a long crevasse in the ground weaving through the trees.

"Yes," Ford said distractedly, taking his micro-rip scanner out of his backpack and turning it on. "This is the place." He took an initial reading, frowned, and followed the crevasse deeper into the woods.

Bill trailed along after him, gesturing at the jagged lines of bending light hanging in the air. "You did a terrible repair job, by the way. Stretching the edges of the rips to meet like that puts more stress on the reality in between the rips. You should have sutured them and let them heal naturally," Bill said. "If there are a bunch of tiny rips in the area, your own shoddy work probably caused them."

"Mm-hm," Ford said, fully focused on the scanner.

Bill's shoulders slumped. He hopped to the other side of the crack in the earth from Ford and strode ahead purposefully, ignoring him.

He glanced at a wooden sign staked next to the crack, nearly passed it, and did a double take. The sign read "MABEL'S FAULT". Bill laughed in surprise. "Who did this?"

"What—?" Dipper caught up and saw the sign. "Oh."

####

2012

Mabel's smile faded as she entered the clearing. "Oh. I... think this is the place where—Bill tricked me in Blarblar's body."

"Guess that explains all the rips in this area," Dipper said. He patted Mabel's back.

She looked down—and spotted the new crack in the ground. She gasped, immediately latching on to the distraction. "Hey, what's that! That wasn't here before!" She knelt next to the crack and peered inside. "Whoa!"

"Huh. Maybe it opened up when the rift broke?"

"How deep do you think it goes?" Mabel hopped back up, straddled the gap, and yelled down into it, "Hello!"

"Careful," Dipper said. "What if it's unstable?"

"We should give it a name," Mabel said. "It's a new geographic feature! We can put it on maps and be famous! What'll we call it?"

"Huh." Dipper stroked his chin. "Well... it looks kind of like a miniature fault line... and you were here when it formed, so I guess that kinda means you discovered it... so maybe... 'Mabel's Fault'...?"

Mabel stared at him.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Ohh no."

Mabel bit her lip.

"I didn't mean it that way! I swear I didn't mean it that way—"

"Dipper!" Mabel cracked up. "We're calling it that."

"No," Dipper said, mortified. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please please don't—"

"Grunkle Staaan, Grunkle Fooord!" Mabel took off toward where they'd last seen their grunkles. "Did you hear what Dipper said—!"

"I'm sorryyy!"

####

2013

Dipper cringed. "Look, I didn't hear it until I said it out loud, okay—"

Bill burst out in shrill cackles.

"I didn't mean it!"

"Y-you're the worst brother ever!"

Dipper groaned, contemplated climbing down into the fault, and instead settled for pulling his hat down over his face again.

Ford passed by with the scanner, shot Bill a suspicious sideways look, and demanded, "What's so funny?"

Still laughing, Bill gestured at the "MABEL'S FAULT" sign.

"Oh." Ford glanced at Dipper, fought not to smile at the poor kid's embarrassment—he'd gotten enough teasing last summer—and said, "Right." He moved on.

"Hey," Bill called, "What's the score?"

Ford paused, but didn't reply.

"Well?" Bill pressed. "You're already past where the rift broke! Don't you figure that's where the most rips would be?"

Ford said, "The scanner's detecting about fourteen thousand."

Bill whistled. He meandered back to Ford's side of the fault. "Sounds like a lot. I'm telling you, the wormholes in this place should've been sutured, that's what your problem is."

"It is a lot," Ford said brusquely. He hesitated. "But."

"But?" Bill prompted.

"But... it's less than a fifth of what we'd expect to see if the fabric of reality were falling apart."

"Wow. Let me pretend to be surprised." Bill made zero effort to look surprised. "That's because the fabric of reality isn't falling apart. You idiot."

Ford glared at his scanner silently.

"You fool," Bill tried. "You buffoon."

Ford rounded furiously on him. "The more you say it's nothing, the more you just convince me that you're lying!"

"Which is stupid! If you always assume I'm lying, how do you know I'm not saying 'it's nothing' to trick you into thinking it's something when it isn't!"

"I don't know! There's no way to know with you! That's why I'm checking with a scanner!" Ford pointed aggressively at the scanner. "Because I'm a scientist!"

"You're a pretty pathetic scientist if you refuse to listen when the expert on a topic tells you what's—"

"—maybe if the self-proclaimed 'expert' weren't a mythomaniac—"

"Guys," Dipper said tiredly. "You've had this argument three times. Can we move on?"

Ford closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Right."

"No," Bill said. "Not until I win it."

"Can it, Bill." Ford glanced toward the sky to orient himself, looked around for the path through the trees, and started walking. "Come on. Next site—the place where the rift closed."

Bill clenched his jaw. Under his breath, he muttered, "As if I've ever done anything in my life to make me look untrustworthy..." He glanced up as well—and his gaze lingered on the sky much longer than Ford's.

####

"So I was thinking about what we could do after this," Dipper said, looking hopefully up at Ford.

It took a moment for Ford to drag himself out of his thoughts and look at Dipper. "Yes? You mean after..."

"After the ecl—" Dipper winced, "the... rips get sealed, or whatever's going on." He'd pulled out his journal and was holding it hopefully. "Maybe... I could show you the research I've been doing on the Fremont Nightwigglers? I think they've been stealing pants in town."

He gave Dipper a little more attention. "Is this one of their migration years?" 

"Yeah, I think so! One was caught on a security camera—or at least what looks like one. Here." Dipper flipped open to the two-page spread he was currently working on and held it up for Ford to inspect.

He studied the pictures, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that. Very impressive research. I only experienced one migration during my time in Gravity Falls, and they'd all but moved on by the time I caught wind of it. Never even saw one—I had to interview the townspeople to get a description of them."

"Really? I don't remember seeing them in your journals."

"Ah, they never made it in. I was focused on compiling magical spells and artifacts for Journal 2 at the time. I took some notes with the thought of putting them in Journal 1, but never felt like I'd collected enough information to write about them—especially when I hadn't witnessed one myself," Ford said. "You've already collected more here than I ever did. I wasn't even sure they were real!"

Dipper's face lit up. "Really? It's not that much—I still haven't found one yet either, it's mostly interviews about the crime spree."

"It's more real investigative work than I did on them. I only got as far as asking a couple of people at the diner to describe the local stories. You've got the dates and times they've been hitting the stores."

"I guess so." Dipper beamed proudly. "I haven't heard any 'local stories' about them, though. I only recognized them from a documentary I saw on Californian cryptids."

"That might be the Blind Eye's handiwork. Everyone recognized the name when I lived here. I'll see if I can dig up the notes I took, you might find the information valuable," Ford said. "I'm not sure where I left them, but they're probably still somewhere in my study."

"Scrapbook in your study on the top right corner of your desk," Bill said. "Under the box of glue bottles. You're welcome."

Ford threw him an irritated look. Bill had gotten ahead of them while Ford was looking at Dipper's journal, and now he was crouched beside a creek, scooping up handfuls of water, momentarily inspecting them, and letting them spill back out. The eye on the hood stared balefully up at Ford from Bill's back.

Ford asked, "What in the world are you doing."

"Communing with the dread harbingers of the coming eclipse," Bill said flatly. "You can't see them of course, they're invisible to you."

"Of course." Ford muttered, "I don't know why I bother to ask."

Under his breath, Bill mumbled, "Don't know why he bothered to ask."

Ford studied the creek and checked his map. They were hiking east toward the lake, with the town to their south and the cliff to the north; the creek ran north to south in front of them. On the other side of the creek, southeast of them, was a thicker, overgrown part of the woods, the shadows between the trees darker and quieter. "This seems like a safe place to wait," Ford said. "Dipper, you stay here while I scan the next site. Keep him out of trouble."

Dipper nodded. Bill cast Ford a sullen look, then rolled his eye and looked back at the water.

"After I've checked the next spot, we'll follow the cliffside to the lake," Ford said, pointing northeast, away from the dark area of the forest. "If there's still daylight, we can take a boat behind Trembley Falls and set up camp inside the cave."

"Sounds good." Dipper looked at Bill's tiny borrowed backpack. "You... didn't bring a tent, did you."

"Sorry, do you think I have a tent to bring?" Bill asked. "Do you expect me to slide an entire tipi out of my—"

Ford interrupted, "Dipper, you brought a tent, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then that's sufficient. You can share my tent and we'll set up Bill's as far from ours as possible. We'll be safer that way."

Bill ignored the implicit accusation with silent dignity.

Dipper nodded. "Good idea." 

"Now, let's see..." Ford studied the creek. It was much wider than he could usually jump, but under the current gravity conditions... He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, testing how light he currently felt; then took a few steps back, got a running start, and with a "hup!" leaped across the creek. He cleared it by several feet and almost ran into a tree.

Dipper gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dipper! Just... don't know my own strength." How low was gravity now, he wondered? He could see grass swaying beneath the surface of the creek. It hadn't rained lately; without as much gravity, even water was being pulled down less, letting it rise higher and flood the creek's banks. He hoped they figured out how to reverse this before the lake flooded. When they made it into the cave, they'd have to camp on high ground. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dipper side-eyed Bill; but when he kept gazing into the water without a word, Dipper said suspiciously, "What, no complaints about camping?"

"What's there to complain about?" Bill asked.

"I don't know, you've complained about everything else so far."

"This is the only part of your expedition that isn't a terrible idea," Bill said. "I love camping! Hypothetically. The Nightmare Realm isn't known for picturesque campgrounds. But hey, I like being surrounded by trees. And a private tent? Deluxe accommodations! It's just too bad you'll be dragging the mood down."

"Hey."

Bill laughed. "You're too easy."

Dipper scowled. "You don't seem like the type to be into camping."

"Why not?"

Dipper thought about it. "Man, I dunno, you just—seem like a city person? You're always talking about how much you want to throw wild parties, that's basically the opposite of camping in the woods."

"Is it?" Bill asked. "Welcome to the cult of Dionysus."

Given what Dipper could remember about Dionysus from the book of Greek mythology he'd read in sixth grade, he supposed wild parties and hanging out in the woods weren't mutually exclusive. So what was it about Bill that made Dipper feel so strongly that he wouldn't be caught dead roughing it?

Finally, Dipper said, "I guess it's the top hat and bow tie."

"They're not a top hat and bow tie."

He gave Bill a perplexed look. "Really? What are they?"

"Did you ever read that horror story about the bride with a velvet ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, and when her new husband unties it, her head falls off her neck and bounces down the stairs—?"

Dipper shuddered. "I'm sorry I asked."

Bill laughed.

After a brief silence, he finally dragged his eyes away from the water and impressively flicked a couple of mosquitoes out of the air with a finger. (Dipper wished he could do that. His arms were coated in soothsquito bite messages. He wondered what "BURN TACK" was supposed to mean.) Bill took off his backpack, rummaged around in it, and muttered, "I should've brought a book." He looked around the bank of the creek for a patch of sunlight, pushed his sleeves and leggings up to expose as much skin as possible, and flopped down in the light, eyes shut and hands laced on his chest over the backpack.

Dipper supposed that meant he was being ignored. He took his journal back out and flipped to the section on the Nightwigglers. He'd need some empty space to add Ford's local folklore once they got home. Was there any open space in the next few pages?

"It really shouldn't be called 'Mabel's Fault,'" Bill said out of the blue. "It's not her fault. It should be called 'Bill's Fault.' I'm the one who made it, aren't I?"

Dipper lowered his journal. "Sorry, are you actually accepting blame for something? You're admitting you did something wrong?"

Bill didn't even open his eyes. "I'm not 'accepting blame,' I'm claiming credit. Weirdmageddon was great. Can't help that you're all too boring to see that."

"But you said 'Bill's Fault.' Not 'Bill's Triumph' or something."

"Sure, because we're talking about a geological fault. Don't read too deep into it, kid."

"Pff, no, you definitely said it was your fault. I can't believe Grunkle Ford missed that—"

Bill abruptly sat up. "Hey. What's the 'next site.'"

"What?"

Bill counted off on his fingers, "Six-Fingers said there are four sites you want to hit, right? The place where the rift formed, the place Weirdmageddon started, the place the rift was during Weirdmageddon, and the place Weirdmageddon ended. The rift formed at the portal—been there—Weirdmageddon started at the fault—been there—during Weirdmageddon it was in the sky—going there tomorrow—so where did Weirdmageddon end? Wasn't it in the sky too?"

"Oh," Dipper said. "It's just. Y'know. It's just a... place."

Bill gave him a sharp look.

Dipper swallowed hard. "No big deal. Just... trees and stuff."

Bill flipped up his eye patch, staring in the direction Ford had disappeared. Dipper could see the white of his eye turning red.

"Hey!" Dipper got in front of Bill, trying to block the view of the forest. "It's nothing important. You—you wouldn't even be interested. Really."

Bill just stared straight through Dipper. And then, before Dipper could react, Bill was on his feet and bolting past him. By the time Dipper turned around Bill was already across the creek, following the path Ford had taken.

"No no no, come back!" Dipper jumped the creek and sprinted after Bill, shouting, "Don't go that way, you can't go that way, Bill—"

There was a dark, quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest, as if no animals had dared visit the area for nearly a year, leaving it to choke itself on its own greenery. Bill was headed straight for the heart of it. He moved through the trees like a swimmer through underwater ruins, kicking off trunks to propel himself forward, grabbing branches to help twist his body around and between them without slowing down—more flying than running, gravity hardly seeming to touch him at all.

He barreled past Ford and his scanner without even acknowledging him. Ford gasped, "Wait—" He turned the direction Bill had come from.

Dipper was squeezing between two trees and tripped over a hidden root. "Grunkle Ford—!"

"Dipper! You still have the bracelet!" Ford pointed, "Run the other direction!"

"Right!" He turned around and squeezed back between the dense trees.

And Ford took off after Bill.

Wild brambles tore at Bill's skin and ripped at his hoodie; he ignored the pain, letting the prickles bite into him as he forced his way through the shrubs—

And then he stood in the clearing, gasping in unsteady breaths, his wide unblinking eyes staring.

In front of him, wide unblinking eye staring vacantly into the trees, was his corpse.

"Bill!" Ford fought against the brambles, trying to figure out how Bill had gotten through. "Don't touch it! We don't know what could happen—"

Bill lunged for the statue.

The bracelet snapped tight around his wrist. Bill's fingers were inches away from his corpse's outstretched hand.

Thirty feet away, Dipper's bracelet went tight while he was trying to scramble over an ancient log. He awkwardly tried to keep his balance on the log; rather than risk toppling back in Bill's direction, he flung his weight the other way, keeping the invisible thread between them taut by leaning so far over that if it weren't for the bracelet holding him up he'd fall to the forest floor.

Bill fell to his knees, clawing at the dirt and grass with his free hand and feet, desperate to drag himself closer in spite of the completely immovable bracelet.

It seemed impossible to Ford that the thin invisible thread wrenching Bill's arm back would hold him for long; Bill would sooner dislocate his own shoulder to gain those last few inches. Ford fell out of the brambles and seized one of Bill's legs. "Bill—"

Bill tried to kick Ford in the face. "You KNEW!" he shrieked. "You knew I was here this WHOLE TIME and you NEVER TOLD ME, you ANIMALS! I could have had my body back! I COULD BE HOME!"

That was exactly what Ford was afraid of. Gritting his teeth, Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other around his neck, struggling to get enough purchase on the torn-up ground to move Bill.

Wheezing for breath, Bill tried to kick out one of Ford's knees. Ford took advantage of the split second one of Bill's feet wasn't dug in to drag him back; he only managed to move him a few inches.

But a few inches of slack on the invisible thread was enough to throw off Dipper's balance. He instinctively tried to flail back upright, overcorrected, and tumbled off the log the wrong way. "No—!"

Bill lunged out of Ford's hold, scrabbled across the last few inches to his corpse, and planted his hand on his stone face.

He froze.

Ford froze.

Nothing happened.

"N..." Bill grabbed his arm, grabbed his hand, as though trying to shake on a deal with his own body; nothing. "No." He sounded more confused than anything. "No, no, nonono..."

He hung off the statue by his grip, pressed his forehead against their joined hands. And then he let go and slowly put his trembling hand on the dead face. And then he sat there, breathing shakily, every few seconds sucking in a hitching gasp that made his shoulders jerk.

Ford gingerly got to his feet, brushed his clothes off, and looked at Bill. He didn't move for a moment; then reached for Bill's shoulder; then stopped, curled his hand into a ball, clasped it behind his back, and turned away. "Dipper," he called. "You can come back. It's..." He cast one last glance at Bill, then forced himself to look away. "It's safe."

By the time Dipper caught up, Ford had made his way back into the overgrowth, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Dipper started, "What...?" but fell silent when he saw Ford's face. He looked past him at Bill and winced.

Ford shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "We should give him..." Dipper nodded.

Bill remained kneeling for less than a minute. Then he leaned forward, used his sleeve to wipe some of the moss off of his dead eye and the bird crap off his hat and hand, and unsteadily heaved himself back to his feet. He moved like he was very, very old. He glanced over his shoulder at Ford and Dipper. "What're you two staring at." His voice sounded like somebody was attempting to strangle him and his smile looked like a zombie had pulled its skin back on wrong. "You should've said you were waiting on me. I was just..." His eyes briefly unfocused. He shook his head. "Just taking a break." His cheeks were dry. He hadn't even cried.

They stepped back as Bill wove around the brambles. Dipper swallowed hard and asked, "Are you alr—"

"Of course I am." Bill plodded mechanically toward the path out of the dense dark woods. 

Ford asked, "Do you want t—"

"What I want is to get wherever we're pitching our tents before nightfall." Bill pulled his eyepatch back in place. "You're making us camp, right?"

They had no choice. If they wanted to get to the top of Trembley Falls, reach Gravity Peak, and get back down the same day, they had to be ready to ascend in the morning. They couldn't afford to go back to the shack tonight. "Are you s—"

"What were the readings like," Bill asked.

Ford hadn't even gotten as far as taking readings around the statue; he'd still been checking the perimeter of the overgrown zone when Bill ran past. He looked for where he'd dropped his scanner, picked it up, and checked. "215 micro-rips detected. Higher than baseline levels, but—not even as high as readings around the portal."

Voice thick with venom, Bill said, "What a surprise."

When the forest had brightened again and the creek was visible, Bill turned to travel upstream alongside it. Dipper pointed across the creek at Bill's backpack. "You forgot your..."

"Right," Bill said tiredly. He hopped across the creek. 

And gasped in shock when, instead of floating across as before, he landed heavily in the middle of the creek. He squeezed his eye shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long, silent inhale; and then he climbed out and grabbed his backpack. This time, he put enough force behind his jump to make it back across the creek. 

Dipper and Ford exchanged a look. Ford said, "Do you need a minute to dry—?"

"No."

"You could catch a cold in those damp—"

"I knew how germ theory works on your planet when your gill-breathing ancestors were still swimming around in their own feces," Bill snapped. "When I say 'no,' it's not because I don't understand, it's because I don't care. Don't treat me like I'm ignorant and don't act like you care."

Ford's jaw tightened. No, he didn't care. Bill accepted basic human decency as easily as he offered it. "Fine. Catch pneumonia."

"Fine!"

Ford pushed past Bill to lead the way to the lake. He tried not to notice how Bill was trembling.

####

Maybe ten minutes passed in silence before Ford worked up the nerve to say, "You—know why we didn't tell you." It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Bill was silent for a long moment. "Of course I do." It was the closest he'd get to accepting it. "When I get my power back, I'm going to invent a very clumsy, easily startled species of bird whose feathers are scalpel blades. And then I'm unleashing a million in the shack, barricading the doors, and blowing an air horn."

Dipper grimaced. Ford muttered, "Thanks for reminding us not to feel too bad for you."

Bill let out a raw, broken laugh.

It was a very quiet hike to the edge of the lake. 

####

After spending the first half of the expedition trying to hurry Ford and Dipper up, now Bill was the anchor slowing them down. He trudged so slowly that Dipper kept having to stop to give his bracelet a little slack; but Bill kept moving, and Ford and Dipper agreed without speaking not to say anything about it.

By the time they reached the lake, the sun was just touching the rim of the mountain curling west around Gravity Falls. The water had risen so far, it flooded the roots of the trees nearest the shore. Far down the shore, distant dark dots, locals were doing cannonballs off the submerged pier, reveling in how high they could jump, how slowly they fell, and how their splashes hung suspended in the air.

Under the unusual conditions and with night coming on, Ford decided that it wasn't safe to try to set out for the cave under the falls. They'd camp on shore and start in the morning.

This, unsurprisingly, started another fight with Bill. "If we were falling behind, you should have said so, I'd have picked it up—!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to imply you were too ignorant to tell the time—"

"The time isn't the issue, I just didn't think you'd give up for the night before it's even civil twilight—!"

Dipper just found a low hill to pitch his tent on.

When Bill noticed, he broke off the argument, flung his hands in the air in defeat, and crouched by the lake to sulk and study the water. He reflexively scratched his arm, pushed up his sleeve with a frown, and read the soothsquitos' message. "'Deeth in the mourning,'" he muttered. "What's deeth? That's not a word."

Maybe they'd been trying to spell teeth, Ford thought. Why would they warn Bill about teeth?

Ford pitched his tent, he and Dipper made a fire, and they attempted to reconstitute some of Ford's dehydrated astronaut food to mixed success. Bill stayed by the lake and tried to eat the cereal he'd brought, but gagged on the second handful and decided dinner wasn't worth the effort.

As Ford cleaned up after dinner, Dipper rummaged through his backpack. "Hey, Grunkle Ford. So..." He pulled out a portable chess kit. "I brought this to Gravity Falls back when I thought this would be a normal summer and I thought we might go camping? And, well, here we are, and I guess things are kiiinda weird, but, I mean... might as well...?"

Fiord smiled wanly. "I think that's just what we need to unwind."

They unrolled Dipper's canvas chess board and took several tries to set up the pieces on the uneven surface. Ford let Dipper take white; he figured the younger and less experienced player could use the advantage of going first.

Bill wandered over with a can of cider early in the match and crouched at the edge of the firelight to watch. He had rolled his sleeves back down, tied his bow tie, and flipped up his hood, and in the dimming flickering light he looked disconcertingly like his real self. He hadn't bothered to stuff his hair into his hood, and it gave the impression that some strange golden internal organs were spilling out of a gash beneath Bill's eye.

After watching for several minutes, Bill said, "Dibs on playing the winner."

Ford and Dipper said, "No."

"Why not!"

"Because we don't like you," Dipper said.

"Oh, come on." Bill ignored Dipper, turning toward Ford. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

"I remember that you're an incorrigible cheat and made every game miserable," Ford said.

Bill reeled back. His face was hidden under the shadow of his hood, yet somehow the shadow gave off the impression of fury. He chugged half his cider, unslung his backpack, and dug around inside it. "Who wants to play against humans anyway." He unscrewed a bottle of cold medicine, topped off his cider, and poured the concoction down his throat. "Ugh. You're not even any good. Black's got mate in three and I bet neither of you can see it."

Ford and Dipper stared at the board, trying to find the looming checkmate.

Bill stood. "I'm gonna go hallucinate, pass out, and hallucinate some more. More fun than hanging out with a couple of nerdy losers playing a stupid game of..." He trudged off toward his tent, muttering to himself.

Ford concluded that Bill was probably making up the mate in three—although not confidently—and returned to the game with a sigh. "It will be nice to drop him back in the shack," he muttered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah."

Ford won—not in three moves—and they started a new game. Several minutes in, Dipper asked hesitantly, "Grunkle Ford? Do you really think the micro-rip theory...?"

Ford pursed his lips, but admitted, "Out of all the locations of concern, you could argue that the spot in the sky where the rift spent a week floating has the highest probability of sustaining lasting damage, so we still need to check. But..." He shook his head. "Based on the empirical evidence—I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Dipper's shoulders relaxed; part of him had worried questioning the Acceptable Theory would be taken as disloyalty. "Then, what do you think about Bill's...?"

Ford snorted. "'Gravitational eclipse' explanation?" He propped his chin in his hand, thinking. "I'm only certain of two things: Bill knows exactly what's going on; and he's hiding something he doesn't want us to know. Everything he's told us so far is what he wants us to think is the truth, and because of that, any of it could be lies. He hasn't given us anything we can independently verify in any way—just vague claims he expects us to take his word for and refuses to elaborate on. Even if he is telling the truth, it doesn't matter. We have to act like... not like he's lying, per se; but like what he says has no correlation with whether it's true."

And thus had been the case with everything Bill had said and done since his capture. Every power he claimed he still had, and every power he acted like he'd lost. Every bit of magical, historical, or interdimensional trivia he spouted off to make himself sound smarter. Every sweet thing he'd said to Mabel, every favor he'd offered Stan—and every time he'd told Ford he wanted to be "friends."

Dipper nodded. "Mabel says that's just how Bill talks. He doesn't care about whether what he's saying is true, he just tells you what he thinks should be true."

Ford would have to keep that in mind when talking to Bill in the future. "That girl's a wizard with Bill. Maybe she's right." Still—he had a hard time believing that figuring out what Bill was really saying had actually been that simple all along. (Maybe he just didn't want it to be that simple, after all the time he'd wasted.)

Ford glanced down at the ring the Hand Witch had gifted him. The first time she'd given it to him in the eighties, she'd told him that if the ring ever turned black, he'd chosen the wrong friends and doomed himself. He couldn't tell if it was just the firelight, but as he looked in the deep blue cabochon now, he swore he saw a swirl of black spiraling beneath the surface. He wished he knew what that meant—was he supposed to trust Bill more, or had he already absentmindedly taken something Bill had said on faith that he shouldn't have? Had that swirl first appeared only now during the eclipse, or when Ford had started studying the miniature grimoire Bill had gifted him? Was it even due to Bill? Ford hadn't studied mood-ring-o-mancy.

Dipper snuck a rook onto Ford's back row. "Checkmate."

Ford huffed. "Well done." He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even noticed Dipper lining his rook up.

Dipper pushed Ford's king over. It dramatically fell in slow motion.

They packed up the chess board, put out the campfire, and slept uneasily.

####

In spite of the sedative cold medicine, Bill couldn't get any decent sleep. It wasn't even a good trip. Every time he shut his eyes for a few minutes, he hallucinated/dreamed that he was locked back in the shack staring at the high attic ceiling, or staring silently at Soos's bedroom—or watching over the town graveyard from high above; or locked like a hunting trophy in a glass display case in some local hick's darkened den; kidnapped and tied up beneath Gideon's bed; closed in a dark airless leather box; preserved like an ancient relic in the museum; hovering above Gravity Falls' valley and trees in the still night sky —

—or petrified in the middle of a quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest. 

Or still in the tent but with his head wrenched around wrong, unable to move or feel his limbs, staring out at an angle that should have been impossible—until he awoke with lungs heaving to find his body was right and he wasn't dead; only for the humanity of his shape to reassert itself and he envied the stone corpse.

He crawled out of his tent, threw up his ill-advised concoction of cider and cold medicine, and collapsed, slipping in and out of a delirious doze until morning.

####

(I have been so looking forward to inflicting this chapter on y'all. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, and if you thought that was bad then stay tuned for things getting even worse for Bill!! 🎉)

[shiongenkai]

TD Captain Swap

I have crafted a captain swap so hilarious to me I need to talk about it so here's the stupidest thing ever.

Frostheim: Yuri

Vagastrom: Jin

Jabberwock: Ed

Sinostra: Alan

Hotarubi: Taiga

Obscuary: Haru

Mortkranken: Subaru

My insane ramblings below the cut.

My basic premise is that one day Darkwick is like. In order to promote harmony across the houses and establish rapport with one another we will be assigning captains to a new house for the next month. And then they do that. And it all falls apart immediately.

Frostheim

Yuri voice ill never go back. And then Darkwick is like okay you're too biased against them go make up!! And Yuri seethes so hard something in his body pops.

First off, nooo way he gets along with Tohma or feels comfortable in Jin's room. Secondly, Kaito? Kaito. Literally no way that guy won't scream every other day. It's not even that he dislikes Yuri, it's just that the rumors are too Big for Kaito not to freak out every single time. And Luca of course will not help this concern ever, and will ask for Yuri's history and why he seems so familiar with Frostheim stuff, and Yuri will have to decide how far morals can carry him.

Somehow someway everyone in this scenario comes out appreciating Jin just like. A smidge more. His Frostheim runs as smoothly as Yuri's Frostheim but there's something slightly more dignified about it.

Vagastrom

I really just need a Jin Leo bitch off. Leo trying to get info from Jin except he soundproofed his room again, Jin not giving a shit about what the two of them do which makes it considerably less fun despite neither Sho nor Leo being willing to admit that, Jin using his stigma when MC is around to force Leo to do things. It's technically functional, like Vagastrom doesn't fall to chaos after Jin asserts his dominance on day one, but it's like. Everyone misses Alan so bad. So bad. Sho and Leo would never admit it to his face but they prefer their captain over Jin even if most things haven't really changed.

Also I think the only reasons Jin would leave his room is if Leo was bothering him too much and even then it would take a bit. I think Sho's life wouldn't be changed a whole lot but he'd miss the sparring and also find Jin's philosophy like.... not strange or bad but too different???? Like yeah it's annoying to spar every day but it's also fun. That's his enrichment...

Jabberwock

This is what inspired it all. The exact sequence of events was that I thought to myself, wouldn't it be funny if Ed was in Jabberwock since it's usually pretty sunny and it requires a lot of work? And then I thought, and also Towa is there. And then I remembered Towa hates Ed and I laughed so hard I cried trying to envision Ed announcing that he's replacing Haru for the time being and Towa trying to electrocute him.

Ren and Ed would also be funny because as long as Ed leaves Ren alone I'm sure he'd be fine. And doubly so if he draws Towa's attention away from him. But I can't tell if after that it'd be funnier if Ren gets annoyed because Ed is actually high maintenance and if Towa isn't doing it then Ren definitely has to. And he'd hate that. OR Ed has seen all his movies and knows all his games and keeps trying to talk to him about it but in a way that pisses him off about it and he's like mad about that. Either way I can't imagine anyone in this house is happy about this arrangement and it's killing me to imagine.

Sinostra

You'll have to stick with me for this one because it's a very specific dynamic in my mind that I'm not very good at articulating but basically. Romeo is at first glad Taiga can't mess things up anymore (even though deep down he misses him) and glad Alan is capable of scaring people straight just by Looking but then Alan is like hey this operation isn't very honorable. It's a low blow to threaten and intimidate and cheat. And then they butt heads about it endlessly.

Which is why Ritsu has to come in and be the equalizer but Alan can't take him seriously because he's like you're way too skinny you have no muscle what is your diet what's your trianing like. Spar with me. And Ritsu, embarrassed and offended, is like ILL HAVE YOU KNOW IM WORKING ON IT. And Alan genuinely offers to help but Ritsu is too used to Taiga and lowkey assumes Alan is making fun of him. And Alan is sincere. So he keeps going.

Hotarubi

PLEASEEEE PICTURE IT. THINK ABOUT IT. Think about the Haku Taiga prologue dynamic and make that daily life. Now add in the fact that Hotarubi is meant to be traditional Japanese themes with grace and tranquility and then imagine Taiga is there and try to tell me that's not the funniest shit ever.

And then add in Zenji. We already know Taiga can see or sense more than others so I would bet everything he could probably sense Zenji in some way, which he honestly probably wouldn't care about but I think he'd care a lot about the doll or the biwa. Basically I think he'd try to eat it. I think he'd try to eat something and it would be chaos and hilarious and please just imagine the three of them together. Please. Please. Please.

Obscuary

House Simulator. This is the only truly fully functioning house with no problems outside of Lyca complaining about noise and annoyances and so on so forth. And that is because Rui and Haru are so used to doing like 100% of the work all the time that they both try to do it and end up finishing all the work in half the time since they've split it and now they randomly have free time??? And it's so strange??

Haru helps with breakfast and cleaning and taking care of the animals and chores and so forth and Rui helps with Peekaboo and relieving Haru's exhaustion and it's basically such a functioning pair that it's almost scary. Like Lyca is scared. But also Haru smells bad and is too high energy and LOUDDD so he's in his rebellious teenage phase atm.

Only downside is that Haru has too much bar access and has to be cut off but it's a small price to pay for a house that isn't up in flames by day one. Unfortunately it can't last bc Haru would miss his animals and Rui would feel too worried about hurting Haru so when they swap back both have made peace with it. And Lyca will still kick rocks they couldn't have Subaru.

Mortkranken

I think Subaru would become a legend very quickly but not because he's this secret medical genius but because he seems to have this uncanny ability to guess things. And the secret is that he is using his stigma fully on accident and seeing what they were up to and then Jiro is figuring it out from there. And he keeps trying to give Jiro credit but nobody will listen.

He's also squeamish. Like he can't handle blood so when Jiro is like 'Move that to the other table please' Subaru is happy to and moves this weird lump under a sheet and the sheet falls off and its a severed arm and Subaru faints. and Jiro laughs for a second before putting Subaru on the table and making sure he's like actually okay. And they are both very patient with one another and very cordial. But it's so so awkward. And Subaru honest to god does not know how to take care of Jiro and is constantly having to ask Yuri how to do things except Yuri is always occupied by Frostheim so Subaru has to follow Jiro's instructions and they are both praying Every Day.

And that's also why they're both happy when its over. Not because it was bad or they dislike each other but bc they're both glad Yuri will come back and it won't be Does Jiro Die Today Roulette. and then Subaru goes to Haku and grabs his shoulders and is likep lease do not start dying ill cry right in front of you forever. and Haku just nods slowly.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Drama abounds when you're attacked by monstrous bats after an argument with Eddie and Steve Harrington comes to your rescue...

Warnings: Complicated feelings, unrequited love, angst, mentions of blood.

❤️

This week had officially sucked.

Eddie was too busy following around his new girlfriend like a lovesick puppy to care what you were up to.

You wish it didn't bother you, but it did. All Eddie talked about was her and it drove you mad, jealously that began as small thing had grown and grown the last week or so. It was an awful feeling.

Shouldn't you be happy Eddie had found someone? Someone kind, pretty and who had so much in common with him. That's what a good friend should feel. Right now, this reaction made you feel guilty as hell.

"I don't know what your problem is. Why can't you just be happy that I'm happy! Maybe if you found someone yourself you wouldn't be like this?" Eddie had snapped at you earlier and the crushing feeling in your chest doubled.

It was dark now in Hawkins, Autumn was in full swing, the chilly wind nipping at you as you walked home.

Technically, you should be at Hellfire but after earlier you were in no mood tonight, you just wanted your bed and maybe a good binge of some of your favorite movies.

Anything that would help you forget about your feelings right now. Maybe scary movie, no romance whatsoever.

It was ironic you spoke about scary movies because the next minute you found yourself in one.

Hawkins was creepy after dark and you had heard enough tales from your relatives about the strange shit that went down here. At first you didn't believe it, Hawkins looked like any other picturesque small town... Well, until you looked closer and discovered the rot underneath the perfect facade.

Your friend Robin told you that spooky monsters roamed the woods, the rumours that freaky bat creatures hid in the shadows looking for prey. Not vampires, no actual bats that would rip you apart.

At first you thought it was some kind of old urban legend, that's until the bodies began the pile up and the legend grew and grew.

Now no one went into the woods, not even in groups. No one would risk it. Even walking past the woods to get home creeped you out, even if someone deep inside you were itching to know more about these bats.

Devil bats people called them. The side of you that was a big fan of mystery and investigating had researched as much as you could about these creatures but most of it was flimsy at best.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you miss the screeching sound the first time. The second time however chills you to the bone.

Screams fill the air, a man shouting for help and you freeze for a second before running to help. It's the stupidest thing you've done going straight into a frenzy of bats, but you can't just leave the guy to die.

When you reach the clearing into the woods you find your too late. The man is dead, blood seeping into the ground and bites on his neck.

Hawkins police station isn't far away. Maybe you could find Sheriff Hopper? You're about to run when you hear that screech again and one of the bats swoop down at you.

The tail is long and sharp and it lashes across your stomach before you can even move. Then the second bat is flying at you and you begin to run back out the forest and through the streets.

The bats are following you, four or them whipped up into a frenzy at the smell of your blood. They're smart to and dive down whipping their tails across your legs so you stumble and fall, your head smacks across the gravel on the road and dizziness makes your head spin.

You kick out at one of the bats and it hits the sucker right in the face, the other one uses its tail to wrap around your legs tightly, so hard that the sharpness of its tail cuts into you.

Two of them then work at ripping open your shirt and sinking their teeth into your side. The scream that leaves you is full of terror and pain, no fucking way are you dying now, theres still so much you want to do in life.

Wriggling around you try to throw one of the bats off you and it works but the second little bastard uses its wings and tiny, fierce claws to pierce into your skin to slow down your moments.

Just when it seems all hope is losr something slams into the bat and knocks it off you, you're so grateful for this and peer up to see Steve Harrington wielding a baseball bat covered in nails.

He slams it down on the bats head that has its tail wrapped around your leg and kills it instantly, freeing you. Dazed you stsnd up and Steve tosses you a crowbar.

"Take their heads off"

You don't have to be told twice and make quick work of the bats as more begin to fly your way. Pissed off, you swing the crowbar and tear off one of their tails.

Steve's hiss of pain captures your attention and you rush towards him and pull it away from Steve by its tail, Steve recovers and smashes the bat into its face.

His shirt is torn and you see a small trickle of blood seep through. The screeching stops as the last creature dies.

Tires squeal on the pavement and you hear your name being shouted. Eddie is running towards you, he looks as pale as a ghost when he reaches you and checks you for wounds.

"Eddie, what are you doing here?" Steve steadies you as you stumble. Eddie is still terribly pale as he answers.

"I heard you screaming, I was out looking for you because you didn't turn up at Hellfire and I felt like shit about earlier and then I heard you scream... I couldn't find you and I was terrified"

He's shaking as he takes in your appearance, his eyes wild.

"What the fuck were those things? Sweetheart?" you smile faintly, the adrenaline from fighting the bats wears off and you wince in pain and your head feels like it's spinning.

"I'm fine Ed's... I, woah" you faint and strong arms catch you before you fall.

❤️

When you come to you're at your house and resting on the sofa. Eddie is beside you looking extremely anxious.

"Thank fuck you're awake" his eyes are red and it looks like he's been crying, he won't admit it but you wonder if he was.

"You could have died... Those bats, shit if Steve hadn't found you when he did" His voice trails off and you gently squeeze his hand.

"I'm okay Ed's. Sore as shit but fine" he nods and kisses your cheek gently, then goes to help Steve with the bandages and antiseptic cream.

Gingerly you lift up your shirt and wince, it's soaked in blood which makes you feel nauseated. Eddie gently cleans the blood away as Steve cuts the bandages.

"Shit, these bastards got you good princess" he whispers worriedly. His nickname makes you ache.

"Don't call me that Ed's. Stacy, she doesn't like it" you whisper and he freezes.

"You're my best friend" he murmurs and the tension in the air deepens.

"Another thing she doesn't like Eddie. Maybe you're right and I should find someone. Would stop all this drama with Stacy" Eddie swallows and Steve steps forward.

"Munson, can you get more bandages incase these get bloodied up quickly" Eddie nods and hurries away.

The tension disappears, Steve gives you a sympathetic smile. Yeah, you were sick of the drama with all of this.

Steve gently patches you up and you feel yourself calm down for the first time tonight as you watch him work.

"Let me do yours, just take your shirt off and I'll help" he looks hesitant but nods and slips off his shirt.

You might have complicated feelings for Eddie but that didn't stop you from admiring Steve, he was handsome and now he was here in your house half naked. Georgia would have a field day if she knew about this.

When did he get so hairy? The thought pops into your head unbidden and it flusters you so much that you almost drop the antiseptic cream.

The bites draw you in again, a fresh one from tonight but also old ones. Bites that have left scars, marks from the bats tails that haven't faded.

You reach out to touch one gently, Steve watches you intently, there's a lot of tension in the air and the fact you could have died has you feeling rattled and in need of comfort.

Steve must be feeling the same thing as he dips his head down and his lips hover over yours.

He hesitates then his lips meet yours before he pulls away again. "Shit, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done that" he mutters.

"It's okay. It was nice and kinda freeing not to think of Eddie every five minutes" he softens and you patch up the rest of him.

"Tell me about it. Felt the exact same with Nancy, it's better now but I still haven't found the right girl I want to be with, who isn't after me for just sex" you peer up at Steve, eager to say something comforting.

"You're awesome Steve, a badass monster fighter to boot. You'll find someone amazing"

Steve smiles and kisses your cheek, lingering just for a moment.

"Thank you sweetheart"

The door slams shut and you jump apart as Eddie comes in. He looks between the two of you with a blank expression on his face, eyes trailing to Steve who is shirtless and then your flustered look.

"Am I interrupting something here or..." Steve barely looks flustered as he shrugs on his shirt.

"Thanks for helping me patch up honey, call me if you need anything okay?" he smiles and squeezes your hand.

He leaves and your filled with a rush of jumbled feelings.

❤️

Could be an Eddie or Steve story :) Your choice.

❤️

[seelestia]

— 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. (𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑)

SUMMARY. playing a silly pick-me-up game with the wanderer is all it takes for him to realize that he is a liar and he hates you (this is a lie). (1.0k+ words)

CHARACTERS. scaramouche / kunikuzushi / wanderer + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff.

CW. set after the events of sumeru's archon quest, reader says one attempted corny line, scara is called kunikuzushi here, light references to scara's lore.

THOUGHTS. an offering to scaranation because this man has been on my mind without paying rent (disrespectful btw /j). also, this work is inspired by this tiktok! <3

(+ tagging @medeaheartly aka the most persistent scara stan i know. ily, jae <3)

✰ masterlist.

"This is stupid."

KUNIKUZUSHI has lived for half a millennium and this is, by far, this is the stupidest thing he has ever heard — or rather, the stupidest idea that has been suggested to him.

After all, who even thinks that sitting down together and saying what you like about yourself is a good idea?

Not that he has heard many in his life; the Balladeer was known for coming up with his own ideas and executing them to perfection himself. If a subordinate even dared to utter any sort of suggestion, he'd make sure those were their last words. What, did they think he was incapable of thinking for himself?

...Or at least, until now after the Balladeer became a discarded identity, a fragment of his past. But still, it doesn't mean he is fond of this particular idea and what is more stupid is that he can't even object to it.

Well, he can just outwardly say no if he wants to. There is nothing here that is stopping him technically... Oh, but there is one obstacle, you see.

You are holding his hands in yours — and the most mortifying part here is that he doesn't want you to let go.

Ugh. Holding hands is such an unnecessary and useless step, he scoffs to himself.

Although Kunikuzushi said all that internally, he doesn't do a spectacular job at concealing his annoyance well. It is portrayed there so clearly across his face like a stroke of bright color on a blank canvas that you can't help but frown.

"Well, Nahida said it'll help. So, it won't hurt to try once, right?" You then give his hands a gentle squeeze, just a little gesture to pass on a sense of encouragement through your linked fingers.

But it is more than just "a little gesture" to Kunikuzushi because for one moment, he almost wants to retract the last statement he said about holding hands. Almost.

"...Fine," he mumbles sharply.

"Good," you nod in response, but he doesn't miss the hint of enthusiasm in the way you do it. "I'll start first," you say, the ends of your lips starting to curl into a smile.

Is that smile supposed to be intentional or not? He can't tell, but what he can tell is that he already dislikes this stupid game.

He dislikes it because he can't understand why he is holding onto your every word in anticipation. Kunikuzushi can't fathom just why exactly is he so curious about what you like about yourself? Whatever, it isn't as if he cares that much, hmph.

"I like..." You trail off and the male listens intently, way more intently than he expects himself to. "—Your smile," you end your sentence with an ounce of satisfaction so evident in your tone.

All the amount of focus he invested gone to waste just for you to say that? "Tsk, you're the one who wanted to play this game so much. At least, stick to the rules, idiot," he grumbles lightly.

He wants to come off as indifferent, but the way the lightest shade of red begins to graze his cheeks betrays him. Kunikuzushi averts his gaze away from you behind the pretense of rolling his eyes. By all means, he thinks your attempt was terrible; after all, he rarely ever smiles but you've seen him smile before, even if it was once in a blue moon.

...You can't actually mean that corny line in a genuine way, can you? No, that must be a ruse to catch him off guard, he is sure of it.

"Okay, okay," you seem to find enjoyment in his reaction, letting out a chorus of amused giggles. At this point, Kunikuzushi doesn't even dislike this game anymore, he hates it now — and that stupid lightness in your voice as you laugh, he hates that too (what a weird thing to point out).

"I'll do it for real this time," you stifle another giggle before eventually retiring from your fit of laughter. "You better," the male in front of you scrunches his nose in, what you assume to be, a menacing way.

Intent on keeping your promise, you take a deep breath, "I like..." For some reason, your gaze just lands on him as if on instinct as you continue, "—My eyes."

And to Kunikuzushi, too, it is on pure instinct when his own pupils suddenly look up to meet yours. Your eyes, you say? He examines the subject of your words closely, indigo irises clashing against [E/C] ones.

There, inside them, his reflection almost seems to drown completely in the colour of your irises. A brilliant [E/C] color surrounds his figure at the sides, not as if it wants to consume him but to douse him in that very same color. Kunikuzushi used to despise looking into a mirror; he despises looking at his face, the very product of what his creator constructed... but not right now.

He waits and waits for that same feeling of hatred to resurface, but he can't feel it. It's still there, but subdued. Subtle, as if a lid was placed above it. Why? Is it because he is looking into your eyes and not a mirror? What an irking conclusion. Just what kind of sorcery are you and that little forest god casting on him?

But how ironic, he can't find it in him to look away from you. His brain is shouting at him to make a remark about how "irritating" your eyes are — yet, in the end, the only thing that escapes his lips is a confession murmured under a hesitant breath.

"...I like your eyes too," he murmurs quietly.

You can tell that those words are meant to be taken away by the wind, never meant to be discovered again. Perhaps, Barbatos isn't on his allogene's side today because you can hear those words as clearly as day.

"I heard that," you smile softly.

Embarrassment instantly takes over and Kunikuzushi snaps out of his trance in the snap of a finger. He looks away with that disgruntled look again as he says, "Ugh, I hate you so much."

"Is that a lie? Do you really hate me?"

"...Shut up."

(Yes, it's a lie.)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

© SEELESTIA, dec 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

[ten-shi-fandoms]

Cute things they do:

Blue Lock addition pt 1

___________________

Cw: Characters x Reader, Gender neutral reader, mentions of nonsexual touching (Rin), bathing together (Rin) kissing, Bachira is a goof, praise, just pure fluff

Characters: Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi, Rin Itoshi

______________________________________

Bachira Meguru 👾⚽:

Bachira does alot of cute things when you two are together, even the small things he does can make your heart swell with love.

He just isn't aware of how cute he really is-

He knows he's cute but not to the extent that you do.

He has a lot of little habits that are just too cute.

Things like giving you piggyback rides/or offering them no matter the circumstance.

Or holding your hand while your walking as he swings them humming along to whatever song he can think of.

Or when you two relax, you two can be cuddling and he'll rub shapes and words onto your skin and have you guess what he put.

He also likes to say the most random things with the stupidest but most adorable grin ever.

Like you guys can be talking about something and he'd suddenly blurt out how much he loves dolphins just to hear you giggle at his childishness.

Bachira is far from stupid but he makes himself extra childish just for you.

He knows how much you like to coddle him and he lives for it, so he'll act a bit more childish for you to coddle him more.

He does this alot especially when he's sick or injured.

He can be sick with a normal cold and act like he's dying just to hold you in his arms as he falls asleep. (bonus points if you get sick and his mom and Isagi have to take care of you both-)

He also gives you the goofiest nicknames.

It can range from normal ones like my deareat/my love to goofy ones like my dolphin, little pineapple and such-

Other than that, one of the cutest things he does is spin you around everytime you see each other.

It doesn't matter if you guys just saw each other, or if your talking to someone when he arrives, he will run to you and spin you.

It confuses the hell out of people around you, and sometimes he catches you off-guard (he loves when he catches you off guard) but its all out of love.

The sound of you laughing, and feeling you squirm around to get down makes his day.

When he puts you down he always ends the interaction with the sweetest kiss he muster before running off feeling fulfilled and already wanting to see you again♡

___________________________________________

Isagi Yoichi 🥇⚽:

Isagi is completely unaware of the cute things he does period.

He just wants to make you feel loved but he gets embarrassed with to much affection but he tries little things!

He's so soft with you, like a little marshmallow

He will hold you hand whenever you two go out together just to make sure you feel safe.

He holds doors open for you, pulls your sit out, helps you sit down he is a whole ass gentlemen ^^

When he feels stressed he'll follow you around with the cutest little pout on his lips and big puppy dog eyes just for you to pay attention to him.

He'll lay his head on your shoulder or your lap when he wants your attention and your busy.

He's shy when you kiss him, but when he kisses you his kisses are surprisingly bold.

He makes sure you can feel his love for you in his kisses, making sure to put in as much love as he can into each which usually leaves you breathless.

Its only when you have go back up to breath that he realizes how bold he had acted which leaves him with a cherry red face and constant apologies.

He also leaves you notes.

They're small but they show how much he cares.

They usual are small reminders to eat, and drink throughout the day or small compliments and praise about how good you've been.

If you confront him about it he'll apologize and promise to stop, you have to tell him your fine with it or he will stop.

He just loves you so much you know ^^

___________________________________________

Rin Itoshi 😑⚽:

Rin doesn't really do many cute things but when he does please treasure them because he's really trying to be a good boyfriend.

Other than him linking your pinkies together in public because he doesn't like holding hands when others can watch, he loves to kiss your wrist.

It's a small gesture that he does when your uncomfortable or disappointed with his lack of affection.

Rin doesn't like PDA or physical touch in general but he makes a little gestures like that.

However small they are it's sweet and he only does it for you.

Behind close doors he shows more affection to you though.

Holding your hand as you walk around the house, having his hand on your waist or the small of your back when he's getting something for you, even having his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his head on your shoulder as you cook or clean.

It makes him comfortable that you don't push him to say or do anything really affectionate with you which in turn sometimes makes him a bit embarrassed.

Embarrased Rin is the cutest thing you will ever witness in your relationship no doubt.

No matter all the hand holding, interlocked pinkies, or hands on your waist will never compare to Rin's stoic expression crack and turn into one of bashful irritation.

His cheeks a soft red the color travelling down his neck and the tips of his ears, his eyes unable to stay focused on you, his hands a bit fidgety, even his lip is quivering oh so lightly.

There are a one way to make Rin embarrassed and surprisingly its not that hard or special.

The easiest way is being gentle with him.

Kissing his knuckles or his ankles, kissing the back of his neck, compliment him (put his brother down, make him know he's better than his brother-), praise him, hold him.

Things like that makes him embarrassed (only in the comfort of your own home), and when he's embarrassed he gets a bit toucher.

He wants to hold your hand more and will even offer to take a bath with you.

The baths are soft, as you sit between his legs, his fingers gently washing your hair, your back leanes into his chest.

During these moments he'll run his fingers along your shoulders, your ears and the nap of your neck sometimes placing kisses there.

Who's embarrassed now?

[justagirlfr]

I’d Rather Be Studying the Physics of You

rotb!Mirage x f!reader

summary: reader is struggling with her physics homework and Mirage goes to comfort her. (fluff, comfort)

tw: physics 😔

a/n: this one is pretty self-indulgent, I’ll open requests soon for more one-shots! I’m currently obsessed with rotb- Mirage and Noah specifically.

——————————————————

Mirage is in your room and leaning against one of the walls next to your bed. He's fiddling with your rubix cube- still amazed at how someone came up with this torture device for entertainment. You're working at your desk, a dim lamp the only source of light. Tonight, it's physics that you're struggling with. 

"Physics is so stupid, I swear to god," you mumble while trying to work out problem 35 on the review packet your professor gave you. This homework really has you questioning your entire life. "This is so overly complicated and for what."

"Physics can be useful," Mirage says, still focused on the cube. "I mean you use it all the time to fix my parts." He winks at the end of that last sentence and you roll your eyes even though he can't see them, your chair facing away from him and your attention being at the disgusting problems at hand. 

"That's like, practical physics though," you sigh. "This is stupid Newton physics."

Mirage momentarily stops twisting the cube's sides. "Isn't all of physics based on Newton physics?"

"I mean, not really, but all of it is the same- stupid and dumb and overcomplicated." You give up on the problem and move on to the next one. Reading the new onslaught of numbers and words, you really feel like throwing up. "Literally what the FUCK is this."

Mirage can sense that you're getting angrier and more frustrated by the minute. Your hands are at the crown of your head, grasping manically at the edges of your hair. "Honey, why don't you give it a break for a second?" He urges. "I think it'd make you feel better."

But you're too far into trying to deduce the obscure answer on your paper. You ignore him angrily and start scribbling wildly on your paper, writing down everything and anything that might be useful in solving this one. "No no no, this won't work, this won't work- you need acceleration for this one, but you don't even have time or distance! Literally what the fuck!" you're getting louder by the minute and it's starting to scare Mirage. 

"Love, I know you really want to solve that, but come here for a second," he urges, setting the cube down for a moment and acting genuinely concerned. 

"I'm fucking focused just let me try again oh my god-" there are tears brimming your eyes and clouding your vision and you're trying so, so hard to mask your frustration with yourself with anger- but you can't see, everything is spinning and you're just mad, mad at yourself because this should be easy, and why are you so horrible at physics? You're a STEM major for christ sake, how the fuck are you going to make it thorugh the rest of your life if you can't master simple Newtonian physics??? You feel the tears falling now, cascading down your face as you grip your pencil with the most power you possibly can. All the fight immediately leaves you and you give into your sadness. "I swear Mirage, I can't do anything right." You're silently sobbing now, basking in your misery because you've lost it, and you're tired of trying to hold yourself together and combat your inevitable conclusion that you are the stupidest person on Earth. What gave you the confidence to pursue such a field? You couldn't even do basic math. The salty tears smell gross to you, and your face feels disgusting all over. You're so lost in your break-down you almost fail to notice your chair slowly being pulled back and the familiar metal servos circling your body. 

"Honey, look at me." Mirage pulls your hands away from your face and gently cradles your face in his hands. "You do a lot of things right."

"No I don't, I can't even do this stupid problem I'm so sick of it, I'm so sick of trying and failing over and over again and it makes me feel so stupid and I am stupid and-"

"No." His grip on your face is tighter and you're forced to shut up. "You are one of the most brilliant, courageous people I know my love. I don’t ever want you to think that you’re not enough, that you can’t do anything.” 

You sniffle, and he gently moves his hands to your waist, picking you up from the chair and placing you in his lap where he can properly hold you. He places you on your bed and kneels on the side, looking over at you. You can hear all of his gears shifting as he does so. He presses his left hand to your cheek, caressing it. “You are already perfect. I love you so much and I could not imagine me loving any other version of you that didn’t have the persistence you do. I know you really wanted to get that worksheet over with and done, but come on man, that shit is hard and it’s not your fault you can’t get it on the first try.” He tucks the covers over you. It’s 4AM, and it’s probably for the best that you call it a day. 

“I just feel like I suck so much at this, and everyone else is so much better, and I’ll never get a job and it’s just so hopeless.” Some more tears slip out of your eyes, and Mirage wipes them away with a swift caress. 

“Oh my love,” he sighs and kisses you gently on your forehead. His lips feel cool and smooth against your soft skin. “It’s going to be okay. All that matters is that you’re trying your best, alright? You’re my girl, remember?”

You nod silently, gazing into his light blue optics as they soften meeting your look. “Yeah,” you sniffle. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. He goes to lay down next to you off the bed, and you can hear all of his parts whirring, getting ready to shut down. 

“Mirage?” You ask tentatively. 


He gets up immediately to look at you. “Yes, love?”

You look away for a second before saying, “can I sleep on you?”

Mirage giggles and you immediately feel his arms lifting you to lay on top of him. He takes a a blanket in front of the bed and drapes it over you. You’re pressed against his chest and it feels oh so nice. The warmth of his spark makes what would seem to be an uncomfortable thing to lay against actually very cozy. You tilt your head up and kiss his cool lips. He reciprocates, and you can taste the warm metal of his bottom lip. When you pull away, he gives you the most adoring expression ever and you melt into him. “I love you,” he says, without breaking eye contact. 

“I love you too,” you give him a smile back. 

[chaifootsteps]

I was trying to think how to recommend watching the show to someone who might have only seen s1 and figured recommending skipping some episodes of s2 might be the best way, but then I noticed something

when I was trying to pin down which episodes of s2 I think are genuinely good to still watch I kinda realized there isn't any?

like even the episodes I think are the 'best' written (as in they're the least frustrating, no Stolas in them obvs) are still rife with plot holes or jokes that don't land

like exes and ohs felt like the last gasp of the old show and even that episodes has Crimson's nonsense marriage plan that doesn't make a lick of sense. it underutilizes Millie to the point it feels like the writers are just being blatant about how little she matters now. it has the unfunny dildos in the wall joke.

and that's the best episode of s2 as far as I'm concerned. the only other one that's relatively not completely sucky is the midseason musical whatever and that's still pretty bland and has a Fizz who feels nothing like his s1 self in it.

even the shorts have plot holes and issues, despite being the closest to the show's original premise (and not featuring Stolas)

like taken as a whole the entire season is just garbage. Ghostfuckers I think is going to be more mid with a potentially very awful suicidality plot point. I think there's a chance the Millie bit is going to be secondary in awfulness to what they do with Blitzo if my hunch is right that they're going to make Tilla appear just as a means to give him catharsis so he can do the thing the show thinks will 'fix' him - get together with Stolas

I'm not sure how the last two are going to play out but there's near 100% going to be Via leaving Stolas for the stupidest reasons the show can conjure up so he can look like he's in the right, again.

the only thing that might be worthwhile from the remaining three episodes is if Stolas realizes he's done wrong and actually apologizes, and faces consequences for being the suckiest Goetia royal ever. but even then I expect the show to tie itself into a pretzel to find a way to minimize what he did or blame Blitzo for some of his misfortune, as if it was his fault Stolas never once said 'I can't talk about this right now, I'm spending time with my daughter/working/actually being a capable adult for once'

the only other thing I'd want from the season 2 finale is for IMP to feel like a family again and that vision of the show is so far in the rearview mirror I wouldn't even bother making it a prediction for the Sinsmas episode. that one should be about family and coming together, but apparently there are leaks suggesting it's the episode where Blitzo finally gives in and goes to play his role as Stolas' white knight, just like Stolas and Viv have been demanding from him all season long

Agreed, unfortunately. The best part of S2 so far has probably been the shorts...otherwise, it feels like a level of aimlessness, retcons, and plot holes that most series don't achieve until after they've run for years and exhausted all their good ideas.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hello!! Recently found your page and when i tell you i binge read almost all of your lookism content i mean it.

That being said i would love to ask if you could do a scenario where y/n and Goo hate each other but fake date in order to make Gun jealous and of course annoyed (in Goo’s case), however in the end they both fall for each other.

Aww!! THANK YOU FOR READING!! Isn't this community great. Isn't Lookism great.

I LOVE fake date fics! Slight deviation to just trying to prove Gun wrong (the plot is thin, okay).

Goo Kim x Reader: Fake Dating

"Get your hands off me!"

"It's called acting, you bitch!"

"Dumb bastard!"

"Stupid hag!"

"Four eyed fuck!"

"Shit for brains!"

A door slams shut. You and Goo freeze for a brief moment before throwing yourselves at each other. Your lips smash painfully together, and hands wander. It's for authenticity, you see.

(And it works.)

Gun stops in his tracks, "What the fuck?"

.

.

You had been chit-chatting as you usually do during one of the lulls in your missions with Gun.

"-and winter weddings are sorta magical, y'know? I like the idea of getting married and having snow falling all around me. But summer with the weather, I-"

Gun has had enough of your mundane chatter. "How the hell do you find the stupidest shit to talk about. You can't even get anyone to date you."

You throw a punch at him, "We dated!"

He dodges your attack, "And we broke up."

"Fuck you, loads of people want to date me!"

Gun peers over his sunglasses at you, he knows you are bullshitting.

Ugh. You'll show this asshole.

.

.

"Hey, you big lump," you kick Goo's chair. Oops maybe a bit too hard. You cackle as he tumbles into a heap on the floor.

"AHH! What was that for, you dumb bitch!" Goo gives you the filthiest look.

(On paper you and him should get on like a house on fire. But the first time you met, he had opened his mouth and asked who brought along this pretty little bimbo. You tried to rip out his tongue for that. Well, the rest is history.)

"So..." You eye up the blonde dusting himself off and readjusting his glasses. Is this one of your worst ideas? Probably. "Wanna piss off Gun with me?"

"I don't need you to do that."

"But what if we can take it to new realms of irritation?"

"..."

"I'll pay you."

"Why didn't you say so, Princess! I'm all ears."

Goo had always thought you were a little weird. As if this doesn't prove his point exactly.

Whatever.

He's making money and irritating Gun. Two of his favourite things. Add in beating someone up in there, and it's his holy trinity.

Hmm, maybe he could beat you up after this. That would be fun. He gives you a sly glance as you're explaining the 'fake dating' and what it entails.

Seriously, what an oddball.

.

.

After Gun discovers you two all over each other, he turns around and swiftly exits.

He did not care for getting involved in your love life. That ship had long sailed.

The only concerns are with his own sanity.

Having you and Goo together is a dangerously irritating, annoying combination. It doesn't just increase his chance of getting a headache and into trouble two-fold, it increases it exponentially.

...And the fake dating begins.

.

.

"Sweetheart, this song reminds me of you!" Goo gives a mocking smile that only you could see.

Gun is sitting in the back while Goo drives and you occupy the passenger's seat. That's fine as far as Gun is concerned. The further he is away from the both of you while you have this little... thing going on the better.

He honestly could not care less. But even listening to you two flirting is like nails on a chalkboard. The headache is returning. He should really invest in some headphones.

"Aww~ You are so sweet!"

You run your hands along Goo's thigh then brutally dig your nails in as you pinch him. This fuck. Did he think you couldn't hear the lyrics? The woman in this song is a useless doormat.

Goo blows you a kiss in return.

.

.

"Cupcake!" Goo matches pace with you and goes to hold your hand. You hear Gun's unhappy grumblings from behind. "There's a new hot restaurant that opened up. We should go on a date!"

"I would love that," That really would be thoughtful if you guys were an actual couple.

"We can have a nice night out and walk along the Han river."

"Perfect."

Goo's grip on your hand tightens, he looks deviously at you. Oh no. You prepare yourself for whatever comes out of his mouth next.

"And afterwards we can go back to mine for dessert? You know what I mean? By dessert? That's how everyone phrases it right? To mean we will just fuck all night? With my big, huge, throbbing-"

You hear a stumble and cursing from Gun. You look at Goo and feel him mentally high five-ing you.

Heh. That'll teach Gun for being such a dick. This isn't such a terrible idea after all.

.

.

"Sweetheart! Don't I look handsome!"

Gun questioned his life choices.

You and Goo had insisted on running into a designer store for something quick. 'Something quick' had turned into an hour of Goo parading around in suits. And now Gun is waiting sullenly in the corner for you both to finish up whatever the fuck you are doing.

"Hurry the fuck up,"

"Gun, you sourpuss! It's for the HNH function tonight. Goo needs to look his best."

Goo definitely did look good, you'll give him that. The blonde has a great body and a keen eye for fashion.

"Honeybun?" you turn your attention towards your 'boyfriend' as he strides out the fitting room. The suit looks like it was tailored especially for him.

Oh. Has he always been this handsome? You start to think maybe he isn't so bad until-

"You said you'll treat me for showing you a good time last night?"

You must be a better actor than you thought. Your mouth doesn't drop open at his boldfaced lie and your face remains neutral.

This prick. No doubt he's going to rack up an absurd bill and make you pay.

"Let's have a closer look then," you walk over to him, playing the part of a sweet girlfriend. Your hand smooths out the lapel and shirt.

"Silly, your tie is all askew," you adjust the knot and tighten it until it almost chokes this idiot.

Goo doesn't say a word, just looks down at you with a smirk. You feel the urge to wipe it off.

"I do like this one," you say. Your hand reaches out to caress his face. He stills at your unusually tender touch, his next backhanded comment gets stuck in his throat.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

As if on autopilot, Goo's arms moves to circles your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. Something about the way you fit with him feels natural.

You nip at his lower lip. Hmm, Goo really is a good kisser.

Gun closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. You two are getting on his fucking nerves. He really shouldn't kick your asses here. He takes a deep breath and counts to ten.

Scratch that, maybe one hundred.

.

.

Goo, with his arm around your shoulder, eyes your Uno cards.

He had already won a couple rounds ago, and now you and Gun are determining who between you is the loser.

"No cutie-pie, don't put the green one down. Gun will +2 you!"

"Don't help her out!" Gun growls at you both sitting across from him. He gets awfully testy even with silly games.

You hum and haw at whether to trust Goo as he studies your hand, trying to come up with a strategy.

"Put this one down," he ignores Gun and points at a particular card, "cross my heart babe!"

Fine. You follow his instructions.

Gun huffs and picks up a card from the pile. Guess he couldn't follow your colour or number.

Goo taps twice on his cheek. You giggle and reward him with a loud smooch.

.

.

"Like this,"

Goo comes up behind you, pressing himself fully into your back and helping you adjust the grip on the golf club.

You subtly elbow him.

"Watch it," you whisper.

"You're paying for my boyfriend services," he responds under his breath, a grin never leaving his face.

Your voice returns to its normal volume, "I thought I was doing it right?"

"Nooo Princess, your swing is all off!"

He rests his head on your shoulder, actually telling you about where your hands should be and correcting your stance.

If you were a weaker woman, you would be feeling butterflies, and your face would flush. You would think about how sweet Goo could be, and how fun he is in a relationship...

You see Gun from the corner of eye and quickly derail any straying thoughts. Instead, you turn and lightly graze your lips on Goo's cheek and shuffle your hips into his crotch playfully.

Goo, delighted at your movement, chuckles.

Off to the side, Gun facepalms.

.

.

You open your mouth obediently as Goo spoonfeeds you.

"Isn't it extra delicious when your Goo-bear is feeding you?" He flutters his eyelashes. God, this guy is so ridiculous you couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you have to fucking do that? I'm trying to eat here." Gun glares at the display.

"Don't be jealous just because you'll never know love like this!" Goo snaps before feeding you another mouthful.

Gun rolls his eyes. Why does Charles curse him with the most idiotic partners.

"Yeah I'll just pay for mine and the wifey's food," Goo smiles at the waitress, handing over some cash.

"Just pay for it all you cheap asshole!" Gun is exasperated. It's a goddamn hole-in-the-wall, not some fine dining establishment. The total is pocket change.

"Nope!"

"You fucking-"

The waitress clears her throat awkwardly.

"Pay for it yourself, you prick," Goo retorts as he nuzzles into your neck.

Gun angrily slams down some money.

.

.

"What's this?"

So much for doing work. Goo loudly makes an entrance into your office and wafts a piece of paper in front of your face. You snatch it irritably.

"My invoice!"

What? This wasn't the duration that was agreed.

You narrow your eyes at him, "But we're not done yet!"

"No, we're not."

"So?"

"So I thought I'll give you a 100% discount for the foreseeable, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows knit together. Does this mean what you think it means?

Goo is a picture of nonchalance, he perches on your desk as he examines his nails.

"You mean you actually want to...?"

"I'm having a good time. You look like you are too."

Hmm, you couldn't deny it. And you never thought kissing him could be so pleasant.

"So we're really...?"

Goo gives you a smile and a casual shrug. "If you want to, Princess."

How does nothing ruffle his feathers. How can he be so relaxed about this?

You mull it over. What's the worst that could happen? The last few weeks have been undeniably fun. You don't think you had ever laughed so much.

You school your expression and give him a nod.

Goo's easy smile turns into a toothy grin. He pulls you close and kisses you, like all the times he had before. But this one feels sweeter. Real.

Goo fucking Kim is actually your boyfriend. Who would have thought?

When you finally pull away, you both stay within touching distance, beaming at each other like morons.

"Bastard."

"Bimbo."

Goo suddenly frowns, and the magic breaks. "This doesn't change anything. You still need to pay the bill!"

[xxsycamore]

A Soulmate That Wasn’t Meant to Be

╰┈➤ 🩷 While rare, there are some instances of a soulmate clock appearing to be broken, showing a negative countdown or one that you cannot outlive. Or both. You were just born under an unlucky star. One that destined you to not only fail to experience such a major event of your life as knowing when you've met your soulmate, but also for Arthur Conan Doyle to find out about it when you've successfully kept it a secret from almost everyone so far.

Arthur Conan Doyle x Gender Neutral Reader • rating: G • tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - College/University; Alternate Universe - Reincarnation; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Soulmate-Identifying Timers; Denial of Feelings; Feelings Realization; Fake/Pretend Relationship; Pet Names; Drinking; Time Travel; First Kiss • wordcount: 2,641 • masterlist

a/n: This is my gift for @oigimi, for the Secret Santa event hosted by @lemeowade ! I saw your preferences for AUs and I couldn't help myself searching for a connection...then I remembered soulmate clock AU is a thing, and then I remembered ikevamp deals with timetravel and I went "hmmm this can turn into something interesting!" and it spiraled out of control after that point 😭 i sincerely hope this isn't too big of a mess and that it's your type of fic! Hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun!! 🥺🥺❤❤ Namesake song by Jess Benko. Take a look at the end notes for clarification on some parts of this fic!

"Remind me again why do I have to spend the whole day being your pretend partner. The party doesn't start until 10PM tonight!"

"Here you go, luv. Be careful, it's hot!" Arthur hands the freshly baked pastry to you, resuming your slow stroll in Jardin du Carrousel, the garden of the Louvre museum. You hurriedly take it from his hands if that would make him finally pay attention to your question. Of course it would be hot, he doesn't need to remind you - it only annoys you further, as he so obviously does it to look like a good boyfriend more than anything.

"Do you want to taste mine? I can taste yours too."

"No thank you."

You suppose it's partly your own fault finding yourself in your current situation, considering the recent events. In a world where everyone is busy chasing after time, enjoying the dating scene before their soulmate countdown turns to zero, or trying to rush in and see the countdown speeding up as they try to play with fate and meet with their designated soulmate faster, you're an outcast. An outcast with a broken soulmate clock on your wrist, condemning you to a lifetime of long sleeves and wide bracelets and false modesty to trick people's curiosity. You should be used to them by now, their comments about you not being interested in relationships. And even though you do feel fed up with it, the thought of lying about dating someone just so they can shut up never crossed your mind.

But it crossed that of Arthur Conan Doyle. The college's infamous frivolous playboy, a firm believer of the 'hook up as much as you can before you find your soulmate!' ideology. Now, you didn't want to have anything to do with a guy like him, but on one of those college parties you were dragged to, he decided to pick you for the lead role in his biggest, stupidest drunken decision yet. And you were equally as drunk to play along with it, nodding in the face of his ex-girlfriend as she looked at the both of you in disbelief. For a playboy like Arthur, you thought he was managing to control his dating life better than this. But you guess he just got bored of being surrounded by love.

Straightening the lapels of his grey coat, Arthur fetches the brochure handed earlier to him out of his inner pocket and takes a quick look at it to make sure you checked out everything of interest in the area before entering the museum itself.

The guy has a whole checklist of activities for the day. You've seen it. He purposely taped another page underneath just to scare you with its sheer length, but you're seeing right through his tricks, the page is full of gibberish written just to take space. You've got your best frown on to keep the illusion of ignorance, hoping that you'd get bonus points for agreeing to go through the full contents of the list, both the real and the fake ones.

But is it really an act? The occasional tidbits of satisfaction coming from beating Arthur's brilliant mind - not that you'd ever give him the credit for it - are hardly enough to keep you entertained throughout the day. When the activities you take on today are meant to be just that, entertaining. And romantic too.

Now, were you a normal couple, a true couple, then maybe you'd be having fun now.

"Arthur, I think partners are supposed to listen to each other and answer each other's questions. At the very least."

"But you see, dear…" Arthur wraps his arm over your shoulder, gently nudging you into taking a turn away from the crowded path ahead and into a more secluded walk. "By asking that question out loud with people around us, you've already answered yourself. We clearly have more training to do, or we won't appear as a genuine couple."

Ah. He's right, damn it.

"I only lowered my guard because these people don't know us, stupid… Let's get inside already!"

Getting ahead of him, you think that as long as you appear excited to see the exponates, you can get away with keeping a few steps distance from Arthur. Hearing his low, annoying chuckle triggers the sensory neurons in your brain until a neat little image of his smirk is produced with near-perfect accuracy. Have you simply seen it too many times? There's no escape even when you turn your back to him, great.

The Louvre is magnificent to explore with the many pieces of art it houses, instantly changing your infatuation with the slow passage of time into wishes it would stop altogether. There's so much to see that you'd frankly not mind getting lost in here just to have an excuse to spend more time surrounded by art.

You have to admit, Arthur chose the perfect dating spot. You're not sure if it was based on your own preferences - surely not - but you find yourself not minding it suddenly.

"Picture!"

Hearing the signal, you instantly turn in the direction of the raised-up phone, smiling for the camera as Arthur presses his face closer to yours.

"Oh, this is a good one, I'm definitely posting it. You look so inlove."

"I'm in love with Da Vinci's work, that's it."

"Uh-uh. That works for me too." Arthur replies while his fingers dance across the screen, likely typing some cheesy caption for the picture. A second later your own phone vibrates in your pocket, signaling that he posted the picture and tagged you in it, and you don't even bother looking.

"At least you're a natural, Arthur."

"What, in masking an expression? How are you so sure?"

You blink, meeting his gaze as some child holding a balloon separates the two of you for a mere second. Instinctively, you shorten the distance so you don't lose Arthur, looking for his hand to take hold of. You've already been through that today, linking hands in the crowds. And while there was no real need to do that right now, you just did that…

To the question in your eyes evoked from his last words, he smirks and adds, "There are pieces of art here that I look at with fondness just like you do."

Your heart sinks for a moment, only to create palpitations that mess with your head. You have no idea where they came from or what evoked this feeling in your chest, but while looking anywhere but at Arthur, your gaze falls on other couples passing by. It's because you were instructed to watch them if you're having trouble recreating the subtle romantic gestures that indicate dating. An advice from a writer no doubt, one that you wish you could forget because it's too late telling your brain to forget what it's been taught. But the question is, why the sudden turning of stomach at the sight of them?

While failing to watch your step, you lose your balance and stumble on your own feet, meeting the hard ground hands-first. You feel eyes on you for a short moment; just a mere second any stranger might spare to witness the unfortunate event before moving on with their tour.

That's it, except for Arthur - who is there to pull you up in a manner of utmost care, dusting off your clothes, taking you to a more secluded area with benches to rest on and asking you at least three times if you're alright before you can snap out of your surprised state and let out a murmur of affirmation.

In the whirlwind of emotions rushing through your slightly clouded mind, you put the embarrassment of your fall aside and realize you still feel hot. As Arthur turns your hand around to inspect it, you realize that no amount of hand-holding numbed your reaction to the touch of his warm hands.

And no amount of his exaggerated lovey-dovey gestures of affection could prepare you for the look of genuine worry over something so insignificant on his face.

"You fell on your hands, they must be scrapped… let's get them under cold water, it would wash away the dirt too."

"Wait, don't look!-"

With the distraction slowing down your reactions, you fail to stop Arthur on time before he can roll up your sleeve.

Your soulmate clock instantly makes him adopt an expression of perplexion, as the quick look he gave it was enough for him to notice the bizarre sight of one too many numbers aligned on the width of your wrist.

-46 750 days, 9 hours, 17 minutes, 35 seconds

"Your countdown is…"

"Screwed up. I'm one of those people."

While rare, there are some instances of a soulmate clock appearing to be broken, showing a negative countdown or one that you cannot outlive. Or both. You were just born under an unlucky star.

One that destined you to not only fail to experience such a major event of your life as knowing when you've met your soulmate, but also for Arthur Conan Doyle to find out about it when you've successfully kept it a secret from almost everyone so far.

It has to be some kind of irony, being here with him today for these reasons. He who made up this whole plan because he needs an escape from love, while you on the other hand-

"Now that I've seen yours, it would only be fair I showed you mine."

"It's nothing, you really don't have to-"

You try to avert your gaze as Arthur extends his hand and rolls up his sleeve, turning it so you can see the inside of his wrist.

-12 616 days, 9 hours, 16 minutes, 51 seconds

"Huh…" You freeze for a moment, not believing your eyes. The guy you secretly envied for having the privilege of being sure about meeting true love to the point he'd chase ephemeral trysts just to kill time. Turns out he also won't be able to…

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't think I'm all that sad, luv. I was never destined to have a soulmate, but that's fine by me. Maybe that's what I deserve."

Your head spins with emotion once more, and this time it's guilt. And it weighs down on you heavier than all else there is, and you suddenly want to disappear.

It's probably not wise to turn your back on Arthur without saying a word, but you'll be regretting this later. You start running, and he calls out your name but it never approaches you. He's not even chasing after you, but you're glad - you've already started thinking of the apology you're going to drop in his direct messages before blocking his number.

Just as you halt your step and check behind your back, you spot his tall frame amidst the crowd, trying to push his way toward you. Without much time to think, you open the nearest door and pray that he'll lose you from his sight and continue ahead on the corridor.

This section of the museum appears different somehow, ontop of being strangely devoid of visitors, with the exponates carrying an air of extra antiquity to them. The path ahead is quite narrower in contrast to the other hallways too, the lightning more sparse, and the feeling of unease tells you to wait out Arthur's chase attempt and then go back where you came from.

Except, he finds you.

You hate it that he read your mind about entering that door, and you hate that you're now practically given the privacy to talk. Not wanting to face him now, you simply continue ahead, hoping to blend with the crowd at the other side of that corridor and escape him then.

Arthur follows behind you, continuing to call out your name, and your mind becomes dizzy out of a sudden. You're ready to blame it on one too many things and you don't pay much attention, until something odd happens. A blinding light flashes before you, making you unable to advance further. Arthur catches up with you just in time to put his hand on your arm.

The light is gone in the next moment, and you slowly open your eyes to find yourself in a different hallway, together with Arthur.

Sinking to your knees, you try to make something out of the bizarre situation, and Arthur follows you on the ground to soothingly massage your back, simultaneously checking for injury. A tiny part of you remains sane and warm, and it's glad that he's here.

"A-Arthur! Look at my-"

Moving his gaze from your shocked expression to your outstretched hand, he gasps as he sees your soulmate clock suddenly speed up, losing years upon years, seemingly not planning on stopping anytime soon. Another portion of shock hits you as you notice his own clock doing the same, and you drag up his hand to get his attention to it.

At a pace slower than yours, Arthur's clock reduces its countdown. The two of you can only watch in alert silence, everything else becoming irrelevant in the face of the miracle happening to those who accepted their deprived-of-love fate long, long ago. In the lone hallway, two sets of eyes search for a third person who does not exist, as one might do when that moment approaches.

The days on the counters reduce to what at most adds up to a few years, then a few months, then finally they turn to zero; followed by the minutes, and at last, followed by the seconds as well.

The rows of zeros align on both of your wrists, signaling that…

"My soulmate is…"

"It's been you the whole time?"

***

After being found by the residents of what you came to know is the mansion of Comte de Saint-German, you were introduced to the lord of the house himself. His explanation eased some of your concerns while still being bizarre enough to be hardly believable.

Being trapped here for a month surely sounds like you'll have enough time on your hands to unpack everything that happened today. But you're glad you're not going through this on your own.

Once you find yourself alone in the company of Arthur again, the butterflies in your belly are revived, stubbornly refusing to let anything overshadow the realization you came to just awhile ago.

Arthur seems to be able to tell what's on your mind. His deep sea-blue eyes lock into yours, and you don't know what to say. Luckily, he takes the initiative.

"We traveled back in time. The clocks were never broken… we were meant to meet here."

An echo of his words reverberates in your head as you try and let them sink in, absurd as they sound…there's no other explanation.

He starts laughing, much to your dismay.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just…" He casually puts his hands in his pockets, admiring a painting hanging on the hallway's wall as he picks his words. "Seeing as we won't be showing up to that party… I guess we don't need the pretend couple lessons anymore."

It's a laugh you didn't know you needed. You aren't sure what is it about human nature that nudges you to seek the solace of a smile no matter how sobering and hostile a situation is, such as finding yourself in an unfamiliar place, in an unfamiliar age. But you're thankful.

"It's a shame." Arthur turns to you. "I was looking forward to kissing you as our grand final lesson."

Your eyes widen, and Arthur has that stupid smirk plastered on his face. Without taking his hands out of his pockets, he leans into your frame and shortens the distance.

"It's a shame indeed…" is all you can muster before sealing those damned alluring smiling lips of Arthur with your own.

a/n: The soulmate clock AU normally uses the countdown for the couple's meeting but here they've clearly met before, so I wondered if I could instead make it count down to their first meeting in the place they're destined to fall in love at, Comte's mansion in 19th century Paris.

Arthur's countdown differs from that of the reader because his clock is synced with the timeline of his previous life - practically, he was born in 1859, lived through the year 1895 when they were destined to meet with the reader - but because it wasn't the right timeline, his clock began to run backwards. Arthur then dies in 1930 and gets reborn into 21st century Arthur, with a clock that still counts down to the year 1895, but the countdown picks up from the moment he died in his previous life - july 7th 1930 (his death day). This is why his and the reader's clocks aren't synced and they can't see it coming that they're each other's soulmate LMAO get doomed by the narrative

"mo are you alright why is this a 4 different AUs at once, 2600 word fic without any planned squeals" yes I think it's perfect as it and I had fun!

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics where a character unexpectedly gets a call from the hospital or must rush to the hospital for another character and end up realizing their feelings as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

❤️‍🩹 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 144k, rehab) Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want.

❤️‍🩹 Consequences by @allwaswell16

(E, 78k, amnesia au) Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up.

❤️‍🩹 Feels Like Coming Home by @phdmama

(E, 60k, angst) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. 

❤️‍🩹 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

(M, 31k, omega Louis) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic

❤️‍🩹 devil's waltz by nebuloussubject

(M, 23k, canon) a sickfic with a slow burn

❤️‍🩹  Hypotheticals (series) by tomlinsunshine

(T, 15k, friends to lovers) This whole "running away" thing really isn't going as planned.

❤️‍🩹 Stay by rabbithole28

(M, 12k, exes to lovers) Louis was taken to hospital after a car accident. They called Harry letting him know that his fiance was unconscious and in a serious condition. The only problem was, Harry hadn't seen Louis since he walked out of their flat three years earlier.

❤️‍🩹 Wanna Do Nothing With You by whoknows

(E, 9k, canon) The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital.

❤️‍🩹 tides thrash inside by ifthat / @lovehl

(E, 8k, a/b/o) "How could I call you when I needed you as far as possible to sever our spatial bond?”

❤️‍🩹 Tight Grip on Reality by roseslotuslouis / @fandomaws

(G, 8k, angels) Louis is called as Harry’s emergency contact after he gets into an accident and they are thrust back into each others lives

❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.

❤️‍🩹 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i

(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene

—Rare Pairs—

❤️‍🩹 We Used To Wait by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 56k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has an accident, but nobody even knows he and Nick are going out.

❤️‍🩹 some velvet morning, years too late by tintedglasses

(T, 35k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis wakes up in the hospital with unfinished business at his bedside. Turns out Nick has some unfinished business, too.

❤️‍🩹 I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 9k, Zayn/Liam) He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend

[zwyragpina]

Just saw the stupidest take on this app, and I continue to question whether or not this fandom has actual reading comprehension skills when it comes to fuckery, that is Mapleshade's vengeance. And of course it is the self-diagnosed 13-year-olds in this app that want to bitch and whine when someone tells them otherwise. 

The River Issue.

1. No, she in fact did not have to use the river. There were multiple options, and none of them weren't said to be unavailable in the book. She was brooding and being angry after being exiled, which does not automatically mean "she was thinking and panicking." No, the book tells the exact opposite of this because she is straight up swearing and cursing the names of her fake ass clanmates. 

2. Frecklewish being followed was not reason enough for her to cross the river. Oakstar gave her until sundown to leave the territory; therefore, frecklewish does not have any grounds to rightfully attack her until she is caught trespassing after her given time. She wasn't even aware that Frceklewish was following her, and regardless, Mapleshade isn't weak; she is shown to be very capable of defending herself. And frecklewish is a fucking push anyway, so she obviously wasn't going to do anything. 

3. She had several options, being the bridge, another clan, and the two-leg place. There are several bridges in the canon map, and the one closest to her is the one near the tree cutters place. She also could've taken the path near the owl tree. It's the middle of the day and storming, so the owl wouldn't have even been out. Another clan would have been the safest option, as in the book, as far as we know Thunderclan is on decent terms and conditions with Shadowclan and Windclan. And besides that, she has kittens, and they cannot turn her away or else they'd be violating their code. Yes, she could've gone to the two-leg place. In canon, the kittypets become a problem during the events of Pinestar's choice and Goosefetaher's curse, which takes place several moons after she's died. 

The Blame for the children’s death

Yes, Mapleshade is infact at fault for her children's deaths, and to say that she isn't, but then turn around and say that Appledusk purposefully killed Birchface is insane and shows how stupid you people are. Both of those are cases of manslaughter. Mapleshade willfully took her children into a river that was already unsafe before the flood hit. Appledusk's situation was an act of self-defence, and honestly, the arguments on whether this is murder or not are very telling on people's intelligence skills. And obviously they both expressed guilt for their actions. Mapleshade feeling guilt that her kits died doesn't absolve her from blame. 

Who deserves blame?

The only cats that deserve blame at all in this story are fucking Oakstar, Frecklewish, and Mapleshade. The majority of blame falls on Freckle and Oak because the entire plot device of the fucking story is so that they can't get over their grief and are using whatever means possible (indoctrinating children supposedly related to them) to get revenge against someone who was simply defending them. Mapleshade takes the blame because she caused a big part in her own spiral by being incredibly reckless, naive, and foolish. And while definitely other characters have blame for their own actions. The majority of what happened to her was a result of her own selfishness or stupidity. 

The only thing I will absolutely not hold against her is the secret she went along with. Frecklewish and the other one literally pressured her into going along with their little fantasy. And that is not her fault. 

These are facts lmao. Get over it <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Down Time with the Creepypasta Guys

Another short thing to burn some time!! I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes :(!! Its v cold in my room rn and I'm shivering <\3

Slenderman;

Really, when the two of you have time together, with norhing to do, he mostly just goes along with whatever you want to do

Something tells me he'd much rather study and observe you, but I also feel like he'd join in whatever activity to humor you

Reading? Movies? Games? He won't turn you down if you ask politely

Dont expect him to go out in broad daylight with you, though

His favorite activities to do with you by far are reading, but he also enjoys slow dancing with you

Even just holding you and swaying is enough

Almost makes both of you forget he's a monster

Eyeless Jack;

Another one that's down with whatever you want to do

I feel like right off the bat Jack would want to stick with something simple, that doesn't take too much energy

If you bring something to his cabin that can play movies, he'll pull himself close to you and melt into your side

He may even sling an arm across your torso, if he feels confident enough that you won't freak out

Since I hc he lives out in the woods, he won't mind taking you around for a walk; as long as the weather isn't too bothersome and you don't run off and get hurt

Don't expect him to play games like tag with you

Laughing Jack;

Now this guy? Real funny guy

You two would probably get up to the stupidest shit tbh

He seems like the type to engage in friendly roast battles, not sure why

You two could spend hours poking fun at each other like this

Obviously you introduce him to comedy shows and skits, and generally show him things you find funny

If he wasn't an 8 foot tall clown he would LOVE to go to a fair or carnival with you, hell! He'd probably enjoy places like chuck e cheese

He seems the type to go bonkers over those places

Tim (Masky);

This is all assuming that you don't know about his whole proxy thing, since that's how I wrote the Christmas scenario a few days ago, so for the time being I'm sticking with that unless the prompt says otherwise!! So!!

Sleep

Lots and lots of sleep

He'll get red in the face if you bring it up, but he's a huge cuddlebug

Constantly holding some part of you during your nap sessions

Hand. Arm. Torso. Leg. Wrist. If he can get his hands on it, he's holding it

Will end up snuggling into you even if you two are sleeping on opposite sides of the bed

If you two really want to, you may go out and catch a movie, or go out to eat

Another thing you two often do is tend to the wounds that appear on his body when he's away... he seems to get stressed when he can't recall where they came from

Brian (Hoodie);

The park is probably his go to place to unwind

Watching clouds, feeding the birds, maybe walking along a trail or two

He wants to just.. chill, much like how Tim does, but he's far more willing to go outside than Tim

Though, he's not against staying in for the afternoon and doing a couples activity

He seems like the type to enjoy cooking and baking

Idk why

Matching aprons

Maybe he'll hug you from behind n guide your hands during it

Not to make you feel bad or that you're doing it wrong!!

He wants to be close to you, is all

And thars another one done!! Sorry if it's a little dry <\3 im trying to scrape my brain for ideas but I'm drawing blanks <\3

If there's any creepypastas you want me to add to my base list let me know!! If I'm comfy with adding them I'll add them!!

[lovemyromance]

"Well, Elain got to choose Graysen" is by far the stupidest excuse I have seen, thus far.

Like, the thing about freedom in life and having choices means that you are free to live however you'd like. Free to make your own decisions, free to love whomever you desire.

It's not like "one and done". Just because you made a choice once upon a time, does not suddenly mean you never get to have free will and make a choice again. This isn't a magic lamp where you only get 3 wishes 1 choice in life 😪

Also - so what if she chose Graysen?

That doesn't mean her next love should be against her will 🙄 that doesn't mean "oh she chose her first bf, now she gets no more choice! Now she has to be with Lucien!"

People say Elain is the woman who never got a choice because of the way Mama Archeron raised them all. Because she saw Elain and decided she would be good on the marriage market. Decided she was some useless pretty thing. People say Elain is the woman who never got a choice because of the way everyone treats her. Talks over her. Ignores her opinions and wants and desires. Like some...

Useless. Pretty. Thing

It has nothing to do with ships. And everything to do with who Elain is as a character.

And I'd like to also point out that even if Elain did choose Graysen - what happened? That choice got ripped away from her. She did not willingly leave her human fiancée. Just like her human life, Greysen too was taken away from her.

Like yes he was a rude asshat to her, but she loved him. She was going to marry him. Imagine losing your human life and your love all in one night?

Not like she was given much choice there.