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paragonevil · 3 years

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@the-trxangle-guy asked: “COLOR ME CURIOUS, BUT YOU’VE MET SOME OF MY ALTERNATES BEFORE HAVEN’T YOU? WHAT WERE THOSE OTHER HANSOME DEVILS LIKE? I’M NOT TRYING TO START A DEAL OR ANYTHING, JUST WONDERING!”

“I was wondering when you’d ask me about them. I’ve met so many of them at this point that I’ve begun to lose count of them all,” and that wasn’t an exaggeration, either. Literally that many had passed under his awareness over the years, most of which were only around for one or two remarks before they’d moved onto simpler prospects than trifling with him was proving to be.

But then there were others like this Bill who floated in front of him, who had proven far more persistent and annoying than the others. These were the Bills that interfered in things that weren’t their business — and made the mistake of encroaching on Aku’s cosmic territory. But unlike some of his other duplicates, at least this Bill had the good sense to not push too hard on his limits. So far. It remained to be seen if that would be the trend going forward, now that Aku had given him Demongo’s services. But for both their sakes, Aku’s and Bill’s, he certainly hoped so. The last thing he wanted was to wage an unnecessary war if he didn’t have to. What a perfect waste of resources that would be, when they both — to a limited extent — sought the same goals.

“Most of your... ‘alternates’ didn’t get very far with me. Safe to say, I think I was more than they could handle. They couldn’t budge me with their deals, such that they were. In fact, you’re the only one I’ve ever made a deal with up to this point, if my memory serves correct... Though, there was another that came close.” Quitters, all those that had given up before even getting started with him... Difficult prospects were often the most worthwhile in Aku’s opinion! But he’s not complaining that most of those other Bills learned their lesson and backed off before he truly did something regrettable.

He’s not inclined to reveal the circumstances of that other deal with the Bill that had come before. Far be it for him to divulge that he’d experienced such emotional pain that he’d wanted to stop feeling anything at all, and had very nearly taken up that other Bill on their offer to take his emotions. The last thing he wanted was for THIS Bill to get the wrong idea — that he could suggest such a deal as the one with Morty. He didn’t trust him with the knowledge of such weakness, yet.

“There was also one who was my servant, for a time. Come to think of it, I do not know where he went... I should probably be a little more concerned for his whereabouts than I actually am. He’ll turn up eventually, I am sure.”

“But forget about him... Let’s discuss the ONLY Bill Cipher who is of real concern to me. MY BILL was the most memorable of your alternates. The only Bill I’ve ever respected as my equal. I would even go so far as to consider him a member of my family.”

“He was my best friend. One of the very few beings I would trust with my life. He taught me many valuable lessons... most of which having to do with humility and allowing myself to forge bonds with others. He’s the one who encouraged me to... work on myself, so to speak. Get therapy to address my emotional shortcomings, as he did. And to work on my relationship with... my ex-fiancé back when we were having problems. Be better towards my daughter. Furthermore, Bill and his husband did me a great favor when they watched after Morty during a difficult time in my failing relationship with Rick.”

He drifted off for a moment, apparently dwelling on his memories of that other Bill from so long ago. He truly missed him. When would he see him again? He hoped it would be sooner, rather than later. It’s been so long since he’d felt such a bond with somebody; felt that kind of trust.

After a moment, he seemed to remember himself, and straightened up with a characteristic, contemptuous sneer.

“Safe to say, you are NOTHING like him. You WISH you could be even HALF the man he was!”

Again, he’s not telling the full story here. He’d felt a small twinge of attraction for this other Bill, though he hadn’t pushed the matter whatsoever at the time. THAT Bill had a partner, and one that he loved very much. Far be it for Aku to encroach on what was a happy relationship, when he... you know. ACTUALLY RESPECTED the boundaries of the parties involved. For a change. Anyone less than a close friend would surely have had to deal with him inserting himself in the relationship. What a great guy Aku is... being considerate for a friend.

“You are only the most recent in a long line of alternates that have come before you. Many of whom were hardly worth my time. You will have to do much if you wish to earn my favor, given how those who came before you proved so... taxing on my patience.” Not to mention the tall order of measuring up to the impression his best friend had left on him. No other Bill Aku had met up to this point could hope to hold a candle to him, in his opinion.

#//the thing abt aku having some attraction for That Bill was something that was only briefly discussed in dms #//and thus it was never put on dash before This Very Post #//it's not all that important; it's like a little piece of old scandal / irrelevant knowledge #//nothing happened; so there's nothing to Fret Abt #◜悪◞#◜悪: answered◞#◜♚: wildgcd◞#wildgcd #◜V1: Bad End◞#◜headcanon◞#bllcphr #◜♚: bllcphr◞#◜♚◞#long post #long post cw #long post //

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keg-the-imp · 4 years

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Billdip Secret Santa Gift

@flannelspacegay, I was your secret santa! Here is one parent AU/domestic fluff with your OC, Angela as requested! I hope you like it!

“...yeah? Uh huh. Yes, of course, did something happen? She-?!… of course. Yes, we’ll come right away.” Dipper hung up the phone, then cleared his voice.

“BILL CIPHER-PINES, YOU BETTER GET YOUR TRIANGULAR TUSH DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE.”

A floor away in his office, an ex-demon/god/bringer of the end times winced at the volume of his husband’s yelling and immediately started questioning everything he had done in the past week that may have upset his currently furious Pinetree.

“Oh, shark- uh, coming, dear!” Bill called back, cursing but not really under his breath. Dipper had put a spell on the house that kept anyone from swearing, resulting in an annoying amount of replacement f-words and the like.

He made his way out the door and down the stairs, resisting the urge to slide down the railing like he usually would. Dipper, the smart, handsome, loving husband he was, had his hand on his hip, his phone in his other, and was tapping his foot on the ground. Gods, he was terrifyingly sexy.

“Bill,” he started, his words tight with frustration, “Did you tell our seven-year old daughter that you used to be a demon?”

Oh yeah, that’s what he did. “Um. Maybe?” Bill tried to say as innocently as possible.

His effort only seemed to rile Dipper up more. “Oh, maybe? And did you maybe teach our kindergartener how to do MAGIC?!”

Ooooh, he was in deep sheep now. Really? Sheep? “I may have taught her a teeny, tiny bit of magic, but it was for a good reason, I swear!”

“And WHAT, pray tell, was that reason, Mr. Cipher-Pines?!” Dipper yelled incredulously, veins popping in anger.

“Oh, well, uh…” Bill twiddled his thumbs. Hoo boy, how was he going to explain this?

“Well, you see, um...” He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Angela was telling me about today’s show and tell, and she was telling me how everyone was going to talk about their parents and draw a picture, but then she started crying because her friend Eliza was gonna have a better picture than her and she thinks that she doesn’t draw well and that they were supposed to say stuff about their parents when they were kids but she didn’t know what to say, and oh, you should’ve seen her Pinetree, she was just bawling,” Bill took a moment to breathe, “And so I said, ‘Well, I know what will make your show and tell cooler than Eliza’s,’ and then she asked, ‘What?’ with these big round eyes, you know the ones, and so I said, ‘Magic,’ and then I taught her a cool little fire spell, ‘cause that’s the safest cool spell I know, and when it was bedtime she wanted to hear a story about me and you when we were kids, but since that’s kind of complicated for me, I just told her about me being a chaos god and you being a cute but sweaty little preteen, and then she told me that it was the best story ever, and I maybe kind of cried a little, and, yeah, that’s why.”

Dipper stood silently, his face unreadable.

“I…” he began. Bill braced himself for the storm.

“... am less mad at you now.” the brunette mumbled. Wait, what?

Dipper unclenched his jaw and untensed his shoulders. “I’m still kind of angry that you did the equivalent of teaching our seven-year-old how to light a fire and handing her a full box of matches, but I… understand your reasons a little better now-”

Bill wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tight. “I knew you’d understand, Pinetree.”

Said Pinetree hid a little smile, but pushed the lanky man off. “Yeah, yeah, don’t think you’re off the hook yet, mister.” he said, poking him in the chest. “We still have to go talk to the principal and explain this whole mess.”

Bill grinned down at his husband, draping his arms around Dipper’s waist. “Oh dear, how shall I ever make it up to you, my sweet?” Stars above, he loved this man.

A mischievous smirk graced the brunette’s face. He noticed that Bill was still wearing his tie from work and took the opportunity to yank it down so Bill was brought down to his height.

Bill was caught off guard and blushed at Dipper’s forwardness, almost falling on top of him for lack of balance. But before he could recover, Dipper was whispering into his ear, and his pink blush turned rose red. Bill swallowed hard, and tried to regain his composure.

“Well!” he shouted, standing up painfully straight (quite opposite to his thoughts), “I should go, uh, change! Y-yeah, I’ll go do that now. Uh, my, um, sweater would be fine, right honey?”

Dipper crossed his arms and smirked. “That would be just fine, dear.”

The brunette watched his husband stumble hurriedly up the stairs. The man was still bashful when it came to Dipper taking the lead, but Dipper loved him for it anyway.

He smiled to himself. They’d come such a long way. And they’d done it together.

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Happy Holidays!

#billdipsecretsanta2k19 #billdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls #fanfic #fluff #mywriting #original content

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gyrlversion · 5 years

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JAN MOIR: Is Mel B the right kind of champion for abused women?

Mel B, pictured outside 10 Downing Street, apparently talked to the PM’s team about helping abused women

Excuse me. Is that former Spice Girl Mel B posing in front of No 10 as the new champion of abused women?

Apparently, this week she ‘talked’ to the Prime Minister’s team about how the Government could be doing more to help women who are trapped in abusive relationships and cannot afford to leave.

In reality, it seems, she handed in a petition on behalf of Women’s Aid and made sure to have lots of photographs taken, including one with the ghost writer of her memoir.

One cannot be too churlish. Well done to Melanie Brown for supporting such an important cause — it is certainly one of the better things she has done in her life. Yet it does have the occasional self-serving, even ridiculous, element.

I mean, what does Mel B — and her sordid, extravagant and wasteful existence — have in common with ordinary women who are poor and abused?

She has claimed that ex-husband Stephen Belafonte controlled her money, beat her up and forced her into making sex tapes and having threesomes during their ten-year marriage. Yet several involved witnesses claimed that she was an enthusiastic participant in the sex games. She was no slouch at spending money either — and why not? She had earned it, after all.

Certainly, Belafonte has a history of violence against women and is such a ghastly character he might as well have ‘BAD LOT’ tattooed across his forehead. But can she really blame her marriage collapse entirely on him?

The divorce that ensued lasted more than eight bitter months, as both sides battled over her £40 million fortune.

In the end, as the principal earner, she was furious about having to pay his legal bills plus £12,000 a month for three years as part of the settlement. Yet if a husband had to pay such sums to a wife, no one would have batted an eyelid. In fact, it would be seen as a feminist triumph.

Mel B said that, at her lowest point, she ‘had no money to buy Christmas presents, so I had help from my best friend who bought all the Christmas dinner for me and bought all the kids’ presents and stuff’.

When you think of those women who are truly trapped in abusive relationships, who really don’t have money or rich friends to pitch in when times are tight, well, it is such humbug. After all, Mel B is about to go on a Spice Girls reunion tour and make millions. She’s not bunking up in a shelter with no money and no home to call her own.

Yet here she is propounding the ideology that women are the weaker sex and portraying herself as the hapless victim du jour. Not only is that hard to swallow, it also plugs in to the currently fashionable narrative that the mere fact of being female confers a kryptonite shield of innocence.

At a Women’s Aid fundraising event on Wednesday night, Mel B was photographed with David Challen. He is the son of Sally Challen, who was jailed in 2011 for murdering her husband, Richard, with a hammer.

David has been campaigning for his mother’s release for years, on the grounds that she was a victim of emotional abuse during the marriage.

Now that coercive control — a form of emotional abuse — is recognised as a crime, Sally Challen has won the right to a retrial. And Mel B has hitched herself to Challen’s cause, which means that Challen and other abused wives have her as a champion.

There was Mel at Downing Street, posing in her marvellous designer frock (left) — did I see a Chanel handbag peeking out? — with her lovely face reportedly altered by expensive procedures. No money to buy Christmas presents! How she has suffered!

The lure of celebrity and the accompanying coverage that it brings must be overwhelming for organisations such as Women’s Aid, but surely there are better patrons than Mel B?

Yes, she has much to be proud of, but I still see her as a girl-power fraud; a woman who always portrayed herself as independent, smart and tough — until it suited her not to. Is she the kind of role model they really want?

She will be writing messages on bananas next, mark my words.

The Prince of psycho-babble

Listen up people! Be braver, be stronger, be kind to each other — change your thoughts and change the world.

So says Prince Harry, who has taken a sudsy bath in eternal wisdom bubbles, been through the Meghan mangle and come out the other end spouting Californian yoga-speak and thinking that he is some kind of new age messiah. And we all know he is not the messiah, he is just a very naughty boy.

Until his laughable speech at the WE Movement this week, it had been difficult to gauge the true extent of his wife’s influence on Harry’s thinking, his drinking, his every royal blinking.

Certainly, he has lost weight and stopped smoking. He doesn’t drink much — or he doesn’t drink as much, but who could? There are rumours that he has even stopped shooting game, a formerly much loved pastime, because it upsets the missus.

Elsewhere, he wears open necked shirts and suede desert boots to official occasions and has gone all touchy feely, even though he often storms around looking strained and furious, as if an urgent trip to the bathroom is required.

Prince Harry is pictured at London’s Wembley Arena this week. He has lost weight and stopped smoking, does not drink as much and is rumoured to have stopped shooting game

Most noticeable of all, he has eschewed the services of the canny royal speechwriters he has used to good effect over the years. This week he left behind the traditional and squirearchal for the full blast Markle, embracing the kind of pseudo-profoundo new age blather that goes down a storm in Malibu juice bars.

Oh lordy, how the scales have fallen from our eyes. Now we can see that dopey Harry was just an empty royal cipher all along, one into which Meghan has poured all her fresh-pressed, dreamweaver jabber — and he has swallowed it hook, line and sinker.

Values. Change-makers. Raindrops. Your true north. Jupiter aligned with Mars. Love will steer the stars. Please make it stop.

The result is awful to behold, like The Beatles going through their Maharishi phase. The question is, what next?

Will the Duke and Duchess of Sussex really raise their child gender free, make a pilgrimage to Burning Man, and move to a commune in Brighton? If Prince Harry really believed in all this nonsense, he would give up his titles, donate his fortune and — at the very least — insist that commoners did not bow or curtsey in his presence. Don’t hold your breath.

The thigh’s the limit, Cinders!

Hang on to your loin cloths and strategically positioned pot plants. One of the world’s greatest supermodels is posing a question about nudity.

‘At what age is being naked not beautiful any more?’ wonders Cindy Crawford (above), as she poses nude at the age of 53.

‘At what age is being naked not beautiful any more?’ wonders Cindy Crawford (pictured above), as she poses nude at the age of 53

To be honest, Cinders, I think for a great number of us in the civilian population the answer is somewhere around six months old.

Yet Cindy feels there is no sell-by date on her looks — and she is right. With the right flattering filter and a kind photographer, she could probably carry on until 86 at least. ‘If we take care of ourselves, why not?’ she says.

Begum blame game goes on

The Shamima Begum blame game continues. The jihadi bride has said people should ‘have sympathy’ for her because basically nothing was her fault.

Then her lawyer, Tasnime Akunjee, blamed her bloodthirsty choices on a ‘litany of failures’ by Tower Hamlets Council, the Metropolitan Police and her school, Bethnal Green Academy.

He also said that it was ‘almost inconceivable’ that no agency had been investigated or held to account over the schoolgirl’s departure for Syria in 2015. Anyone else?

Shamima Begum is. pictured in a camp in Kurdish Syria. Her father, Ahmed Ali, has called for immigration authorities to be investigated for allowing his daughter to travel to Turkey

Yes. Apparently the Met Police’s counter-terrorism department’s ‘inadequate’ handling of her case was one of the key reasons she was ‘pushed’ to join her friend in Syria.

Now her father, Ahmed Ali, has joined in, calling for immigration authorities to be investigated for allowing his darling daughter to travel to Turkey on someone else’s passport in the first place.

What about his role? Couldn’t he and Shamima’s mother have done more to instil decent values in their daughter and teach her the difference between right and wrong? That is a question he doesn’t answer. Meanwhile, Shamima would still be in the caliphate raising warriors, had her side not been defeated.

Come fly with me, lipstick and mascara!

Virgin Atlantic has said it is fine for female flight attendants to stop wearing cosmetics, and Air New Zealand is following suit. No doubt other airlines will do so, too.

Air travel is so dreary these days, an ungroomed female attendant pushing a breakfast trolley down the aisle would be no surprise. However, it would be a shame. If I want to see a pasty faced hag with wild hair in the morning, I’ll look in the mirror.

Virgin Atlantic has said it is fine for female flight attendants (stock photo) to stop wearing cosmetics, and Air New Zealand is following suit

No female flight attendant should be ‘forced’ to put on make-up and keep her hair tidy. But if you are face to face with the public as part of your job, shouldn’t you take a little care with your appearance?

Personally speaking, I just adore make-up. I don’t feel subservient wearing it, I feel empowered. In years to come they will have to prise my mascara wand out of my cold, dead hand.

That’s why I hate to see lipstick and blusher portrayed as something demeaning and even sinister. Don’t give up the warpaint sisters! It is our armour against the world.

Shallow to say drinking is a disease

In the hit film A Star Is Born, Ally (Lady Gaga) goes to visit the disgraced Jack (Bradley Cooper, pictured together in the film) after he has been in rehab for two months in a bid to cure his alcohol addiction.

‘It’s OK. It’s not your fault. It is a disease,’ she tells him in a moving scene.

However, that is simply not true. In fact, it is indeed shallow. Claiming that addiction is a disease is not only scientifically baseless, it hinders rather than helps many addicts because it undermines hope.

It makes them believe they do not have agency over their condition, that they are helpless in the face of a greater force.

Whereas they are the only ones who can help themselves.

Bradley Cooper in A Star Is Born with Lady Gaga, whose character goes to visit Cooper’s disgraced Jack after he has been in rehab

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