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criminalmindsmad · 4 years

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Are you finished?

This one is SO long (3400 words long lol), and I must’ve been real moody when I wrote this but please don’t be mad at me! I’ve merged 2 requests together because they may have been very similar had I not! Let me know what you think! Leave any comments in replies or in the tags if you reblog ❤️- Ash x

Requests:

-Something angsty for hotch, i know this is very broad but idm what you choose to do with it since all of your stories are amazing!!

-Can I request a Hotch x reader where they’re close/kinda flirty and work well together but then Hotch is suddenly really cold to her because he realised he has feelings for her and he’s forced to talk about it when they have to share a hotel room?

“Oh hey! Aaron!” you shouted across the precinct realising there were about 7 cops looking at you. You cleared your throat “Agent Hotchner. May I see you in the conference room for a second.”

He looked at you and cocked his eyebrow, he could tell by the look in your eyes you were up to something and as much as he loved it now was not the time. “Is it important Y/N?” you couldn’t stop your cheeky smile forming on your face, it couldn’t be less important if you were honest, but you nodded anyway. Hotch gave in and walked over to you and into the conference room. “What is it Y/N?” he tried to be serious but he couldn’t help but smile a little. You paused briefly wiping the smile off your face, looking out of the window for dramatic affect.

“Your butt looks good today” you looked back over to him and he just shook his head, let out a little giggle and left. You quickly followed him.

Over the course of the case you two were your usual selves, talking about everything and nothing in between bouts of case work, gently touching one another whenever you got the chance, catching the other staring and making fun of them. You and Hotch were best friends, anyone in the world could see how close you were. Which was…great…probably…you had resigned yourself to being best friends aware that being anything more was just completely off the table.

A major storm had hit the night you’d caught your unsub, grounding the jet and leaving the BAU stuck in Dallas with nothing to do. Most of the team had taken the opportunity to get some sleep retiring up to their hotel rooms one by one. You’d decided to stay at the bar for a little while and treat yourself to a glass or two of wine, things had been a little dicey on this case and you felt like you needed it.

As you sipped at your wine and watched the rain splash against the window a warm hand pressed itself against the small of your back. You flinched at the touch and turned to face them, grabbing their wrist as you did so and yanking it away from your body.

“Hey that’s not very polite!” Some smarmy guy in a business suit smirked in your direction as he put his hand up in defence.

“Neither is touching someone without their consent.” You released his hand and shoved it away.

“Look you don’t need to be a bitch, I was just trying to be nice!” He got up in your face, trying to intimidate you “Jeez you’re not even that pretty anyway!”

“Hey back off!” Aaron had emerged from behind him and began bounding over towards the pair of you. You smirked at him as you grabbed the guy harassing you and pushed his face into the surface of the bar, not spilling a drop of your wine.

“If you think I was being a bitch then…you must think I’m a colossal bitch now! Ha!” You picked him up and shoved him away from you, Aaron caught him as he flew towards the door.

“I think you owe my friend an apology.” The guy looked at you once again and shook his head.

“Let him go Aaron, he’s not worth it.” You nodded to him as he let go of the man and walked over to you.

“You ok?” He put his hand on your arm and looked down at you. You smiled back and bought him in for a hug.

“Yeah, much better thank you"

That night you two spent hours talking, moving up to your hotel room at around 3am.

“Look I just think if the toys in Toy story come to life because kids love them then of COURSE food is alive because we’ve all seen kids eat chicken nuggets!” You both laughed as you sat back down from your rant, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Your brain is both amazing and stupid!” He laughed and leaned towards you, stopping both of your laughter in its tracks. Suddenly it felt like there was a rope wrapped around you both, pulling you together. Like the world moved in slow motion as your bodies moved closer, your eyes locked on his as you pressed your mouth against his. He returned your kiss moving his hand to your hair and holding your face against his. And then as suddenly as your lips met, your lips parted and Aaron moved away from you “Y/N! This is highly unprofessional” you looked at him with stunned eyes, your mouth hanging open in shock.

“What?” You could feel the tears prickling at your eyelids as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aaron?"

"This should not have happened. This was clearly a moment of weakness on both of our parts.” You stood up and walked towards him, holding you hand out.

“Aaron can we talk ab…”

“No” he pushed your hand away “I won’t have to take any professional actions against you however we are not to talk about this with each other or our colleagues again, is that clear.” You nodded. Silently willing yourself not to cry. “Goodnight Agent Y/L/N.” and with that he left, leaving you in the dark of your hotel room.

You didn’t sleep at all that night. Instead sat tormenting yourself over what had happened, figuring out what signs you misread and at some point you questioned if it ever happened at all.

Morning arrived and you slumped down in the lobby waiting for your team. As you glanced around to check if anyone had arrived before you, you noticed the guy from the bar last night staring at you from reception. You pulled your sunglasses down and tried to ignore his existence.

“Hey, where’s your boyfriend?” The man wandered over a cocky expression plastered on his face “wouldn’t put out for him either?”

"Wow… I would almost have forgiven you for being a drunk asshole but I guess you’re just a regular asshole huh.”

“Listen bitch I know the sheriff. I can do whatever I want right now and you’re heading straight to county!” He tried to get up in your face. Standing up you met his eye level and tried desperately to wipe the smile off of your face.

“I’m FBI jackass, I could break your arm right now and I wouldn’t get so much as a disciplinary.” It was an obvious lie but this douche didn’t need to know that.

“Agent Y/L/N!” Aaron’s voice boomed from behind you, as you turned your head and spotted him and the team in your peripheral you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you “what are you doing? Do we have to have a talk about your professionalism on cases?"

"Sorry Aaron this is just the guy from the bar last night.” You motioned towards the now even more cocky man next to you.

“Once again Agent Y/L/N it is not professional to sleep with someone every time we are away on a case.” Your mouth dropped open as he spoke, eyes fixated directly on his.

“What did you just say to me?” Anger radiated from your voice. “I did not sleep with this man."

"No she didn’t but she did threaten to break my arm.” You looked at the man stood next to you and without missing a beat he recoiled away from you in fake fear.

“My apologies sir. Y/N you’re suspended. Find your own way back to Virginia and be in my office at 8am Friday.” He spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if you were just some background character that no-one ever knew the name of and not someone he considered a close friend mere hours earlier. He walked by you, stern face completely unmoved by the shock plastered all over yours. The rest of the team shuffled by offering comforting eyes and the occasional touch on the shoulder, they seemed as shocked and confused as you were.

And then they were all gone, you were stuck in Dallas, alone and heartbroken…at least you were in a bar…silver linings.

***

“Aaron… do you want to talk about what happened back in the hotel?” Rossi cornered Aaron in the plane kitchen. Concern spread across his face.

“What is there to talk about? An agent acted unprofessionally, as they had done many, many times before, and I finally realised I needed to do something about it. I will discuss this further with agent Y/L/N when we meet next week. As for now, I have some paperwork to get started on.” He walked away, leaving Rossi stood at the other end of the plane. Emily and JJ looked over to the older man with questioning looks on their faces which was met, to their dismay, with an equally confused face from David Rossi.

***

“You’re late Y/N” a very stern Hotch mentioned as you knocked at his office door, not bothering to even glance in your direction.

“I’m 15 minutes early Aaron.” You noted the clock on the wall.

“Exactly.” You fought the urge to scoff at his comment “take a seat” you did as he said, sitting yourself in front of him. Usually the time you spent in his office was either splayed out on the couch or perched on his desk, this chair was uncomfortable, no wonder you never sat here. “I’ve taken the difficult decision to place the incident and your behaviour on the case last week as a strike on your record"

"What?” Your eyes and mouth open wide, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. “But Aaron! That goes on my permanent record, it could affect my role in this team and the FBI as a whole. I find it very hard to believe that what happened last week is grounds for that kind of action."

"You threatened a civilian Y/N."

"After I was threatened and sexually harassed! You saw what he was like! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” You stood up off of your chair and turned your back on Hotch, placing your hands on your head in frustration.

“Please calm down Agent Y/L/N! Don’t make me extend your suspension further.” He stood up and slammed his hand on his desk making you turn around to face him. You stood eyes connected in complete silence breathing in unison. “The mark goes on your record. You may start back with us on Monday. Take the weekend to cool off and maybe think about what a professional wears to the office."

You looked down at your v-neck and skinny jeans, an ensemble you had worn some variation of during your entire stint with the BAU. You let out a small scoff, composed yourself and spoke "fine. See you on Monday Agent Hotchner. Have a nice weekend."

Leaving his office you shut the door and met the gaze of your teammates. JJ was the first to walk over, offering to walk you out. As you stood in the lift with her you decided to let your frustrations out.

"I just don’t get it! It’s like some weird twilight zone where my best friend has been replaced by a nastier moodier version of himself and nobody but me knows!” She laughed at your comments and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

***

“Agent Y/L/N!” Hotch’s voice boomed across the North Dakotan precinct catching the attention of anyone within 15 miles of him. “interrogation room now!” You had become used to being dragged into rooms whenever Hotch saw fit, his eyes burning into you whenever you did anything trying to find a mistake or reason to call you up. And the once gentle touches had become rough pushes go get you to move in or out of somewhere. The last month had been Hell, on top of your one strike Hotch had managed to find a way to give you another, during a week of back to back late nights and stressful days you’d accidentally fallen asleep at a desk and no one had decided to wake you before they rolled out to apprehend an unsub, Reid had gotten injured and sure enough Hotch blamed you entirely ‘had you been there and not sleeping on the job we may have caught our suspect without an agent ending up in the hospital’ for some reason the rest of the team felt the same and your relationship with most of them had been a bit strained recently.

“Hotch, have I done something wrong?” You asked, shutting the door to the interrogation room behind you.

“What is this?” He threw a case file onto the desk, notes and pictures sliding out as it slammed against the table.

“It’s Ryan Knowles, a potential suspect, I saw his name pop up a couple times and had Garcia run him through our system, juvenile crimes, peeping tom and a non existent mother figure. He fit our profile, I asked JJ to put him on the board so that we could…”

“And why would you do that?” His question took you aback, what was that supposed to mean?

“It’s my job? To follow a hunch and see if it pans out.” You furrowed your brow unsure why you were in trouble.

“Maybe not for much longer. I’ve noticed you’re slacking, sleeping on cases, following ridiculous hunches and causing the team setback after setback!” He threw the case file against the wall sending paper everywhere “follow your hunch, and you better hope it pans out or you’re off this team"

"You can’t do that!” You shouted trying to hold onto your composer for just a moment longer. He began to walk out of the room, putting his face close to yours,

“Watch me.” He pulled his face away and walked out of the room leaving you shocked and confused. You began to pick up the papers of your case file trying to put them back into some order as your tears began to blur your vision.

You stood up and wiped away your tears, looking at a picture of your unsub you decided you were going to prove you were right and prove why you deserved that spot on the team, not that you really wanted to be there much more anyway.

***

“Put the gun down Ryan!” Your unsub pointed his gun directly at you, you’d managed to catch him attempting to bury his victim, You had radioed for backup as soon as you saw him and could hear the sirens in the distance “you don’t want to do this, hear those sirens in 30 seconds they’re all around here and if they see you standing there out in the open with a gun it’s not going to take too long for you to be the one in the ground.” You swallowed hard, keeping a level head as you gradually lowered your gun “but if you have me they’re not gonna shoot you, how about you let Amber go and take me instead, look I’m unarmed” you kicked you gun slightly away as you heard the screeching of tyres.

“Come here.” You walked slowly to Ryan he grabbed you and quickly held the barrel of the gun to your head. You watched Amber run off and be caught by JJ, you sighed with relief that they had made it to you in time.

As Aaron saw you his heart leaped to his throat and his stomach hit the floor. He’d thought he’d managed to bury his feelings for you after everything that had happened, but there you were completely vulnerable with a gun to your head and he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly worried. As Rossi tried to talk Ryan down Hotch kept his eyes focused solely on you, catching your stare right back. You nodded slightly and forced yourself downward allowing Morgan to land two shots directly into Ryan’s chest.

As you pulled yourself free from his arms you ran forward to your team and for some reason Aaron was the first to pull you in for a hug. Your body tensed up and you blinked with confusion but at least you were safe and he wasn’t firing you.

***

“I’m sorry Miss Y/N but there was an incident with your room. A pipe burst and unfortunately we cannot let you stay in that room this evening. We managed to collect all of you belongings before they were damaged but it seems you will have to share with one of your colleagues.” The older woman at the desk was ruining your life, not actually but in many ways she was. Your team had already gone up to their rooms while you spoke with reception. “I can give you a spare key to one of their rooms so you can just go and let yourself in ok?” You nodded and took the key, you didn’t mind sharing a room with most of your team, as long as it wasn’t Aaron.

You knocked on the door and began to let yourself in “Hey it’s Y/N! My room got flooded so the front desk gave me your key! I guess we’re roomies for tonight huh!” You finished opening the door and was met with the face of Aaron Hotchner. You sighed “ah. I will go get a different key.”

“NO!” He cleared his throat “no it’s ok, we can share I don’t mind.” You silent nodded and closed the door behind you, putting you go bag down on the desk you began walking over to the couch to get comfortable “Agent Y/N.” Hotch stated sternly. You stopped abruptly and sighed, you knew friendly Hotch was too good to be true. Turning on your heels you didn’t give him a chance to speak first.

“Look I know I was reckless, but you didn’t really give me much of a choice. If this means I get fired then fine because I saved a life today and that’s enough."

"I’m not going to fire you. In fact I wanted to say something.” He looked sincere, and sad like whatever he was about to say was painful or something “that night in Dallas, when we talked for hours and then we kissed, well for some reason it broke me, I knew I liked you and knew I found you attractive, I just never put it all together until that moment. I realised I loved you and I wanted to be with you, and I freaked out. Everything I’ve done over the last month was because I was so scared that I was going to get hurt or that you were going to get hurt and it would break me, but then seeing you today and realising that you could die it all went out the window, I don’t have time to be scared, I want to be with you and I realise that now. I’m so sorry” He stopped his ramble, looking into your eyes with his big brown puppy dog eyes, pleading forgiveness and willing you to return the sentiment.

“Are you finished?” He looked shocked by your question nodding to respond. “And that’s it is it? You made my life hell because you love me?” He nodded again, quickly glancing to the floor. “What do you want me to say now? That I love you too? That I forgive you? Well I’m sorry but no. I used to, but then you ruined it. You cost my friendships with the team, you cost me my perfect record and my job and you almost cost me my life, because you are an immature, petty self centred prick! I’ve been so stressed and tired I’ve lost 10 pounds for god’s sake! I’m sorry Hotch but your half assed confession isn’t going to fix this.” You sat down on the sofa and put your head in your hands leaving Hotch stood in the middle of the room, eyes drilling a hole into the floor, looking the way you looked after he left you alone in your hotel room that night. Neither of you moved, both unsure as to what should happen next. “I’m…I’m not saying that we can never happen. I just need time to process, and forgive you and learn to love you again.” His eyes had moved up to you again and you noticed the tears that had formed starting to leak out as yours quickly did too. “What… what erm… what side of the bed do you want?” He laughed slightly at you comment and smiled weakly at you a smile which you returned. Maybe in a little while, this wouldn’t be so hard again.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic

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torivikachu · 3 years

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I was just listening to Hamilton AGAIN - yeah I just put it on while working all the time - and it just hit me how really relatable Hamilton (or I mean, Lin-Manuel's interpretation of him) is. well, at least for me.

if you're wondering if this is worth your time it is NOT

anybody except me likes lists? I like lists. so let's make a list!

also let's see how many quotes can I fit into this post

whoa, I am excited about it.

1. the moment he meets Aaron Burr, he just sorta searches for something to bond over. like, hey dude I heard you went to Princeton? I wanna go there too, let's bond over it! by the way, I punched someone there lol I swear I am not stupid aand Burr, like um, no, thanks really, I better go, you seem violent, my parents wanted me to go there, okay, and Ham like WHOA YOU AN ORPHAN? WOW I AM TOO IT'S LIKE FATE OR SOMETHING LETS BOND and Aaron like wtf dude just shut up

and honestly that's just me, if I meet a person I like I will latch onto anything and I get sorta...fixated? so yeah, this dialogue is relatable as fuck

2. and Alex doesn't shut up, but then he goes all or am I talking too much?

bro, your anxiety shows.

3. and he keeps ranting all through the show, but his rants seem to charm everybody while I think mine just annoy and scare away? whatever, moving on, with Washington asking him why are you upset and he's replying IM NOT like a fucking teenager and it's probably a small thing but it's relatable as hell

4. and then once he is given permission he dives and buries himself into work, never does things halfway and is eager to take on more responsibilities and do something new and is just generally non-stop and while I can only wish for same energy as he, I like to have a lot of work aswell (well I sure as hell whine about it a lot but Hamilton does too! what's with I havent slept in a week I was weak I was awake you've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break)

5. he's flirty and has no qualms with innuendos. and very forward with his feelings? like you strike me like a woman who has never been satisfied sounds like a pickup line that either gonna win him a lot more than a number or fail miserably. he's like going all out, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and if it takes fighting a war for us too meet it will have been worth it and like seriously? yeah, flirt with every person in the room without skipping a beat, why not? he literally said on one intake of breath mr lafayette hard rock like lancelott i think your pants look hot laurens i like you a lot. he compliments people, he just throws it out instantly, most times he meets someone for the first time he compliments them and it's kind of my strategy too? it's not even a strategy, I just blurt out everything I like about a person once I meet them. it's like embarassing, because I liked a piece of jewelery on my co-worker once, and she was talking about something important while I could barely keep up because I kept thinking wow it looks great I gotta let her know. this strange need of mine to voice all thoughts annoys even me sometimes,

6. and then again, when he is angry or doesn't like something, it's painfully obvious. I don't tend to sprout profanities to people I don't like or saying stuff like madison you mad as hatter son take your medicine or you must be out of your GODDAMN mind or you absolutely right John should have shot him in mouth that would've shut him up but I can't school my face so it is always transparent what I am thinking about so my dislike is noted and not appreciated. it got me into enough embarassing situations. actually when studied in lyceum (like a sort of highschool) we had a principal and she addressed us as children and told us to call her mom and every time I was like WHAT THE HELL. I remember her eyes landing on me one time she said that and she almost did a doubletake at my facial expression. so the I'M NOT YOUR SON sentiment is not lost on me.

7. he speaks his mind when he thinks advice is in order? um if you love this woman go get her or for once in your life take a stand with pride. I tend to do it too, because I get winded up pretty fast, and I don't think it's always wise, because it's easy to judge from outside. I am pretty much sure that is the reason one of my friends back from school stopped talking to me. she had a bit of situation with her boyfriend and I still think her boyfriend is a piece of shit and she shouldn't have accepted him back, but whatever. wasn't my place to give advice, apparently

8. he gets overexcited? gentlemen of the jury I am curious bear with me are you aware that we are making history? like really I can't imagine ever getting like that at court. well I can imagine, because I get overexcited too, but saying that out loud? i'd be mortified

9. he's never satisfied? I know I already sorta covered it already, but it's more about him eager to learn and do more and feeling that what he's done and learnt is not enough, never enough. I so feel him on this, it's like yeah sure I know 4 languages, but that can't be enough can it? yeah I've got one degree but that's just ONE DEGREE that's like minimum I gotta get more

10. I know I talk too much I'm abrasive and I am not quoting Hamilton I am talking about myself thank you very much

11. he's a whiny bitch: but they don't have a plan they just hate mine -oh yes- or whatever it is Jefferson started it -huh yes sure-

12. forgetting your sons birthday? I forget my own age, sis. these little details just escape my attention. I like forgot it was my boyfriend's birthday this year - we literally live in the same flat. it took me a couple hours and a reminder from facebook. literally. and then I'll try to get away - hahaha it's like me saying to my parents - oh sure I'll some visit in a couple of months (they live in another part of the country) and then in a half a year being like oh wow when was the last time I went home

13. oh, here comes some more heavy stuff - say no to this. I was in a couple situations where I lost this battle. I think I have some polyamorous tendencies? but I am also very posessive and jealous, yeah, not a great mix, I know. so, I might have sorta dated two girls at one time once. well, not really dated, we were just bi-curious with one? we were friends, just... um, trying things. and then at some point I met another girl and it escalated pretty quickly and we sorta got together (oh my god the whole situation was a mess I was so confused about my sexuality back then and so ashamed you have no idea) and I didn't break it off with the first girl, but it was okay since we weren't... a thing? they knew each other but had no idea I slept with both of them. well we haven't really gotten that far with the first one but. and then the other asked at some point if she's the only one I do this with and I lied and a month into this endeavor I realized it was too much and sorta stopped seeing the first girl. we also stopped being close friends pretty soon afterwards. all my "lovestories" are embarassing actually, but this one is also the one I am most ashamed of. and then there were many situations in life when I was attracted to multiple people at the same time and ugh, I don't know, I kind of hate it, honestly. cheating is not okay. it is okay if everybody is okay with the polyamorous relationship though, but I never got to do it. so, yeah Ham's a dick but so am I

and on that depressing note I wanna wrap it up because I sorta killed the mood with that story. i think that's called oversharing?

if you actually read it to this point - wtf, you have nothing better to do or what?

I am not even gonna tag it so people don't have to scroll over that shit while searching for good content really I just like writing

the whole time I've been writing this my cat just kept staring at me. unblinkingly. I can feel her JUDGING ME

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sdpafanblogofsupremefunk · 4 years

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Season 1, Episode 1: A Different Place

Where better to begin talking about a show than the beginning? Like most shows, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo has a pilot episode.

...Okay, in this case, “pilot episode” is just a fancy way of saying “first episode”. Much like Rick & Morty and DT17, SDPA doesn’t really have a pilot episode that isn’t just the first episode (unless you count Doc and Mharti as R&M’s pilot, which I’d rather not), so to begin the series, we kinda have to jump right into the mess of things.

It’s like A Quiet Place, but not stupid.

As the episode begins, we are introduced to a two men on a horse-drawn cart. The man in the red box is a book salesman who’s a little down on his luck in terms of profits.

A little.

This guy isn’t really given a name, and I don’t want to call him “The Salesman” the whole time because that’s stupid. So I’m going to give him a name. Mr. Simmons will do nicely.

Anyways, Mr. Simmons falls out of the cart when it hits a patch in the road, and when he picks himself up, he sees a quaint little house on a farm, with an old woman knitting on the porch.

Here, we are introduced to the first of our main cast, Dona Benta, a kind elderly lady who owns this little patch of heaven known as the Yellow Woodpecker Farm. Yeah, didn’t take us long to get there, huh?

So Mr. Simmons sees this old woman in the middle of (what he believes to be) nowhere, and decides it’s the perfect opportunity to make a quick buck believing that:

Which, I dunno, man, she seems pretty comfortable just sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Like, even as an outsider who doesn’t know a lick of what goes on in this farm, I’d say she’s content as she is, but anything to make some cold hard cash, I guess.

Also, I would not ever call this place a desert, even for the sake of exaggeration. There’s grass everywhere, bushes, trees, flowers, the works. If this where anything like a desert, I do not think this woman would be here, to put it simply. But, I digress. And I hydraulic press, but we won’t be seeing that.

So, Mrs. Benta goes inside to call for the kids, and here we meet 3 of our other actors:

Here, we see Pedrinho (or Little Pete, the boy in the blue overalls) and Narizinho (or Lúcia “Little Nose”, the girl in the red dress), cousins and Mrs. Benta’s grandchildren. They’re playing tag, I think, but they’re stopped in their tracks with their Grandma in the way, and-

Hang on, I feel like we’re forgetting something.

Oh, right. I almost forgot Emilia. She’s basically the reason I watch this show, no biggie.

Anyway, she’s in a race with the kids, when they’re blocked by Grandma. Emilia makes the smart move and cuts right under Mrs. Benta. It looks like this:

Another reason I like this show so much, it’s rife with smears, which I feel like any good cartoon should have. Like here, where Emilia friggin’ nyooms right under Mrs. Benta like a comet.

Emilia reaches the finish line at the bookshelf, where we see the Viscount of Sabugosa, a puppet made out of an ear of corn who’s very smart and polite. (His name is a pun, “sabugo” means corncob in Portuguese, and it’s a parody of the Count of Sabugosa, of which there were 9, the first being Vasco Fernandes César de Meneses in 1729- but everybody calls him Viscount and so will I because blah)

In this show, the Viscount is the actual size of an ear of corn, which makes sense, he is, after all, a puppet made out of one. I think it’s really funny that the cartoon is slightly more realistic than the live-action show it’s based on in this regard, because in the 2001 series, for whatever reason, the Viscount towers over everyone:

And he has a sick mustache.

Like, I don’t get it, out of all the characters, you made the guy made out of corn the tallest one in the cast? I get that the technology to make him actually small probably wasn’t all there yet, Grandpa in My Pocket was still 8 years off, but you really couldn’t find a guy that wasn’t the same height as Shaq?

Yeesh, only 2 minutes in and I’m getting sidetracked this often. Well, I guess it’s better than having nothing to talk about.

Anyway, Emilia wins the race, but the other two kids run into her, smooshing her against the bookshelf-

-and pwning her so hard she briefly grows fingers on her hand (and turning it into a left hand apparently, because the thumb is on the wrong side)

Mrs. Benta explains that Emilia and the other mystical beings must hide from the impending salesman.

Oh brother, I was wondering when we’d get to this guy. This is Marquis of Rabicó (Portuguese for Short-tail). Literally the first thing you read about him on the show’s Wikipedia is that he’s fat (which you think would be a given cuz he’s a pig), and his part of the Characters section isn’t much better, stating that he’s a “gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig” and most of his episodes involve him getting himself and/or others into trouble by being a gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig. He’s only ever onscreen to cause problems, either directly or by proxy. If I were to sum him up in one meme, it would be this:

Now, I don’t hate Rabicó, I’m actually quite indifferent towards him, but he does bring down a lot of the episodes that he’s a major part of. Thankfully, there aren’t too many episodes featuring him in the first 2 seasons, but from what I hear, Season 3 goes ham with that shit (pun intended) and it brings down the quality of the season as a whole, so it’s a good thing that’s as far off from now as it is. I want to enjoy the lack-of-pig while it lasts.

But hey, at least he doesn’t look like this:

Don’t do drugs, kids.

Rant over, Mrs. Benta explains that she wants things to look normal because the Yellow Woodpecker Farm is a very peculiar place, where all kinds of weird and wacky stuff goes on, and if word gets out about it, the place will be filled with tourists wanting to get a peek of the action.

Something that Mrs. Benta probably didn’t consider is that there’s a bigger threat to being exposed than just filthy tourism. That’s right, I’m talking about the GOVERNMENT.

I mean, think about it. How many movies have you seen where the government tries to hunt down an unnatural being? E.T., the Sonic Movie, a third one I can’t think of right now, etc. (Lilo & Stitch does not count) Now, I can’t speak for Brazil’s government compared to the U.S., but I know there’s gotta be a division dedicated to dealing with unnatural things that would no doubt arrest Emilia, Rabicó, Viscount, etc. and run experiments on them. Then again, maybe this cartoon takes place in a world where the government doesn’t even exist. I mean, we never really see any urban settings in the show (aside from a brief mention of “the city” in the finale), so for all I know, the world of Sítio do Picapau Amarelo is run by Vermin Supreme.

Real talk, you should all be ashamed of yourselves for not voting for this guy back in 2016.

Initially, Emilia won’t go into her box, but then she gives in and is dragged there by Aunt Nastácia, the housemaid of the farm with a knack for making dolls (so she’s essentially Emilia’s mom). She doesn’t really do much in this episode, but the Fat Bastard does even less, and I still mentioned him.

So Mrs. Benta lets Mr. Simmons into the house and he does this whole spiel about how great the books are, how they can take you to worlds you never imagined, fantasy and action, yadda yadda.

Meanwhile, the kids are off to the side and they’re all like “Well, we met the actual Hercules, get on our level scrub”. And of course, Emilia is watching with them, instead of in her box.

As Simmons keeps on rambling, Emilia is being a little peeping tom, not realizing that one turned head could lead to her being dissected like a high school frog.

Apparently, Emilia thinks she’s a regular Bart Simpson, with shit like spitballs and pulling out the man’s leg hairs. She’s really pushing her luck here, and for little reason. Sure, Simmons called the place boring, but that’s how it’s supposed to be to him.

Of course, Pedrinho and Narizinho are nice enough kids that they bail her out on this one and pretend it was them.

And before Simmons can ask what the hell is going on, Mrs. Benta gives him the money for the books and sends him out the door. And once he’s out...

I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with go.

Of course, they’re not out of the woods yet, cuz Simmons is getting a little suspicious.

Busted. The truth is revealed, all laid out for Simmons to see. A talking rag-doll? Inconceivable! And yet, there it is.

Come on, Viscount. I would expect you of all people to uphold what Mrs. Benta said and stay hidden. You’re smart enough, you should already know what’s at stake, or at least that something is at stake. I mean, I understand that the cat is already out of the bag, but you’re not helping.

Also, you’re thumb is clipping into your bowtie, you should get that checked out.

Rabicó, I hope you get turned into salami. Not out of spite or anything, but just because I like salami.

Naturally, Simmons believes he’s struck gold and found the ultimate tourist trap. But when Emilia points out that if he tells anyone, he’ll sound like a crazy person-

-he straight up Villager Neutral B’s her,

hails a horse, and books it.

Wow, Viscount. Dick move mangling Mrs. Benta’s glasses like that. And all for an impromptu magnifying glass, which is pointless-

-because we can see the horse tracks perfectly fine without them.

(The Viscount isn’t this much of a jerk in the rest of the series, I swear.)

So, the gang follow the tracks until there are no more, which leads them to a corn store.

Wait, a... corn store? As in, a store that mainly, if not exclusively, sells maize and maize accessories? Compared to vegetables in general, that’s quite a niche market, I can’t possibly imagine finding a success in building an entire business around one type of vegetable. Corn is simply not as versatile as something like chocolate or cheese.

Oh no, wait, it’s just a bar. I guess this cartoon takes place in the middle of Prohibition 2: Return of Jafar, and the whole “corn store” thing is just a set up for a speakeasy. (I mean, you could also argue that it’s a diner, but I’mma go with bar because it’s funnier.)

And I’m guessing Simmons expects the place to put all of the meals on his tab, considering he’s going to get the money later with all the tourism. But then, why doesn’t he just pay with the money he got from selling Mrs. Benta those books? So he pulls Emilia out of his bag to show everyone that he has a talking doll and...

Hm. Probably should have put some air holes in that bag.

Anyway, the gang comes in, and Mrs. Benta asks for the doll back, with Narizinho hamming up her Oscar-worthy performance:

So everybody’s giving Mr. Simmons a mean glare:

Including this gentleman who looks like someone just insulted his favorite MHA character (it’s probably Tsuyu):

So Mr. Simmons desperately tries to convince everyone that the doll indeed does talk, and that she comes from a wacky place, but Aunt Nastácia intervenes and says that it’s just a normal doll.

She just straight up roasts Emilia, who (big surprise) does not take it very well. To the point that she is very visibly angry, which you think the barflies would notice.

I mean, look at that and tell me that you wouldn’t notice anything weird.

But anyways, they get the doll back and we get this cute group hug.

D’awww.

So they leave with Emilia-

as Mr. Simmons is beaten to death offscreen for stealing from a little girl.

As the gang walks home, Viscount bends Ms. Benta’s glasses back to normal. Took you long enough, ya jerk.

Not even close, my dear. This is only the beginning.

Well, that was a very good first episode. It introduces the world and many of the main characters very well. And while there were a few issues I had with it, they’re really just nitpicks that don’t detract from the episode as a whole. Overall, a good effort, 8/10.

So, yeah, that’s the first episode down. Join me next time when we watch episode 2, and meet a very vile villain.

Very vile indeed.

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axelsagewrites · 5 years

Text

Jace Herondale*Mundane

Ship(s): Jace x Mundane!reader

Request: nope

Warnings: Lies?

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

My friends constantly questioned me about my boyfriend. When I'd met Jace I never thought to mention him to them, but things got more serious and when he became my boyfriend, I told them. Because they'd never met him, and it was apparently 'so sudden' they didn't believe me.

Jace and I had met while I was working. I'd been the one who'd served him during my shift at the café and thought nothing of it. He'd come in every Thursday at the same time which happened to be the one shift I always worked. One Thursday I was on my break I'd ordered myself some lunch, but the staff room was being redone so I decided to sit in the café. During my break, he walked in and looked confused when he didn't see me. He'd already ordered when he'd spotted me.

Despite never talking to him unless to tell him his total or the specials he walked over to my table. "Is it alright if I sit here?"

"Yeah sure," He sat across from me. "I'm (Y/N),"

"I know," he chuckled, nodding at my name tag. "I'm Jace,"

"I know," I copied, pointing to the coffee cup with his name on it.

We talked for a bit, but my break eventually ended. It started becoming more serious and serious as the weeks went on. He'd come in on Thursdays and stay till my shift ended then we'd go out. I found out Thursday was the only full day he got off worked.

"You ever thought about quitting your job?" I asked one day, "I mean they only give you one full day off and it's a Thursday. Where's the fun in that?"

"I mean its quite flexible. If it's not busy I can go out and stuff,"

"Yeah, but they always end up calling you away. I doubt you get paid enough. What is it you even do?"

Jace looked down for a moment, "It's like-you probably wouldn't get it,"

"Try me,"

"I'm kind of in training. My job is to keep people safe. Make sure everything is where it's supposed to be and when it goes wrong to fix it,"

"So, like a police officer?"

"Kind of. You can't just call up for help. Something serious has to be wrong,"

"Like a detective?" I asked.

He smiled, "Basically yeah. Something like that,"

"Well, in that case, I know you don't get paid enough,"

We began meeting on Thursdays, which I now requested off, and he'd drop by at random times when work let him away. Even if I was in college he'd sneak in, somehow unnoticed despite the tattoos and leather. Honestly, I was surprised no one was drooling over him since I nearly was.

Often times he'd come to hang out in my flat. We'd watch movies, cook food, and rant about life. Though he seemed to be holding back.

Jace had come over tonight, using the spare key I'd gave him, and was ranting about work. "And they're being so overbearing. Like I had to help this girl but since I didn't do it by the book Alec's been on my case the whole time. Plus, Isabelle isn't helping since all she wants to do is skive off and annoy him."

"Who's Alec and Isabelle?" I asked. Normally he just said some guy or girl from work.

"Oh, um my brother and sister," he stuttered out, "haven't I mentioned them?"

"Nope. Don't think so," I said, "I'm sure they mean well. So, do you all do the same job?"

"Basically,"

"So, is this like a family business or...?"

"Yeah," Jace perked up, "yeah it's like a family business which is why it doesn't really have a name,"

"You'd think if it was family, they'd be easier on you. You're their brother, even if you're wrong, they should have your back,"

This time he sulked, "It's complicated. Anyway, how was your day?"

I bit back a frown as I told him about my boring day. Jace always seemed to be holding back, "My friends have been asking to meet you,"

His eyes went wide, "I don't know if that's a great idea," he tried to shrug it off.

"Don't worry," I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure they'll love you. Besides they seem to think I'm making you up out of thin air. Just come out with us tonight,"

"I don't know,"

"Please," I pouted, "You can keep me safe? I thought that was part of your job?"

Jace looked at me for a few seconds, "Okay. I'll need to call to say I won't be back but if work call- "

"Your half to go," I finished his sentence, "I know. I get it,"

The night seemed to be off to a great start. Jace turned on the charms and all my friends like him even if he didn't seem like my normal type. The bar we'd went to was decently busy but not too bad. It took a while and a couple drinks, but I dragged Jace up to dance.

Jace was grinning, his hands resting on my waist as we danced to the music. My friends were dancing nearby but got the hint to dance away a little bit. "I'm glad I came out," he told me over the music.

"Told you it'd be fun!" I said as he grabbed my hand to give me a little spin, "Aren't you hot with that jacket on?"

"A little bit I'm fine,"

"I told you to check it. It's the 21st century. Nobody cares about your tattoos," I said. Jace had always tried to cover them up. The one on his neck always pocked out his t-shirt though.

"Yeah well- "he looked off into the crowd and got quiet, "go to your friends."

"What?"

"I'll be back in a minute," he grabbed my arm and gave me a little shove in my friend's direction. I steadied myself as I grabbed my arm. Before I could say anything, he was going through the crowd.

"What the hell," I muttered as I joined my friends.

"Who does he think he is?" One of them said, about to march over.

I put my arm out to stop him, "Not the now,"

"Look at your arm!" I looked down and saw a faint mark where he'd grabbed me.

"He's never done that before," I said. My friends gave me a look, "Oh be quiet. I'm not defending him. There's no point chasing him,"

They all agreed, and we decided to try forgetting what had happened, but I kept looking over to see if he'd come back. He didn't.

When we left the bar, I didn't feel right. They all wanted to go somewhere else, but I decided to call a cab and go home. The whole time I was texting Jace.

Where'd you go?

What's wrong with you?

Why do you do that?

You'd you think you are?

Wow, no answer? Really?

Call me or were over

I went to bed that night with no phone call and the same uneasy feeling. All my plans for the next day were with Jace but I assumed they were canceled and didn't set an alarm before bed.

"(Y/N), wake up," I groaned as someone shook me lightly. I squinted, pained by the burning light. "You awake?"

"What the hell do you want Jace?" I groaned as I rolled over to sleep again.

"I need to talk to you. Wake up. Please," he sounded desperate. I turned to look at him and his eyes looked redder than normal. "You've got to believe me,"

"Believe what?" he was still wearing the same clothes from last night but now his jeans had dirt on them, and some weird stain was on his t-shirt.

"I lied. I'm not a detective. I'm a shadowhunter,"

"You're what?"

And that was when I learned my boyfriend was crazy. He went on and on about Downworlders and angels and demons and weird sounding weapons and a clave?

Once he was finished, he looked at me, "You need to be locked up, "I said. "something is seriously wrong with you,"

"You've got to believe me,"

"How am I supposed to believe someone who says fairies are real? Huh, Jace? How are you going to prove any of that?"

Jace rolled his sleeve up and pulled out some stick thingy. "watch this," he ran it over one of his tattoos. It started lighting up and my eyes bulged, "See? And watch when I do it to this one," he did it to another one and he disappeared.

"Jace? Jace!? Where the hell did you go?!" I yelled.

He reappeared, drawing on another rune, "see? I can't make that up,"

"Oh my god, I'm crazy,"

"You're not crazy. We're just not allowed to show mundane this,"

"Then why are you telling me? I don't want to be labeled some crazy whack!"

He sighed and sat next to me, "Last night, in the bar, I saw a demon. I'd been on a mission early with Alec and one got away. It followed me. That's why I hide my runes when I'm with you. I don't want people who know what I am to see me. It would put you in danger"

"But surely telling me puts me in danger too?"

"I couldn't protect you if you didn't know. When we first started talking it wasn't meant to be serious. I was sick of the shadow world and you gave me an out. I can't risk someone coming after you,"

"Who'd want to come after me?"

"Do you remember when I said families complicated?" I nodded, "Alec and Izzy aren't really my family. Not by blood anyway. I went to live with them after my dad died. But he didn't really die and now he's back. I didn't come from nice people. Shadowhunters aren't meant to mingle with Mundane because it isn't safe. If the silent brothers found out they'd lock me up at best,"

"who are the silent brothers?"

"That's an even longer story,"

"Okay so if I know about the shadow world but I can't tell anyone, and you can't tell anyone about me what am I meant to do? Hide in my apartment?"

"No. I've got a plan,"

Why don't I like the idea of this?

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autumn-pines · 6 years

Text

Eh, Who Needs Love?

Time and time again romance has failed for both Stan and Wendy. But hey, who needs love when you can just have fun stealing a diamond and picking some locks?

EDIT-This fic now has a sequal-When You Can Steal Diamonds?

Today was turning out to be rather strange.

It started out alright, it was only when Wendy was just hanging out with her friends before heading out to work and be fashionably late did things start to become a little weird.

Wendy had been listening to Robbie chatter on about his new album until suddenly Robbie paused. Wendy glanced over only to see that he was staring at Tambry, who was standing next to Nate and Lee as they tried out a new handshake.

After a few seconds, Tambry looked up and smiled at Robbie, who instantly smiled back, his cheeks reddening.

Wendy blinked in confusion, wondering how a simple glance could make Robbie blush. She tilted her head, trying to think if there was a time when she blushed and smiled from Robbie looking at her.

Nothing came to mind.

On her way to the Shack, she couldn't help but ponder how Robbie and Tambry were actually in a good relationship and happy.

She had dated like what, at least six guys and none of their relationships lasted beyond three weeks, tops. They just never felt right, plus awkwardness always hagged at Wendy whenever the guys tried to have an intimate moment or kiss her.

She just...didn't want it.

But wasn't she supposed to?

"Something on your mind, kiddo? Or do you like staring at the wall for ten minutes straight?"

Wendy flinched as the voice intruded her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. She turned her head and saw Stan leaning against his 8-ball cane, his eyebrows pointedly raised at her.

Quickly, Wendy allowed a casual look to slide in and for her body to relax. "Oh, hey, Stan."

"That's Mr. Pines for-" Stan began, his voice firm until he stopped, his expression considerate, and then shrugged. "Eh, you know what? I don't care. I've been called worse things."

Wendy rolled her eyes loosely, but then squinted at her boss as a thought struck her. Has Stan ever been in a relationship that has lasted longer than any of hers? She couldn't recall a time where he had not been slapped or getting a blank stare after trying to flirt, but still...

"Heya, so, Stan." Wendy started, trying to phrase the question in a non-weird manner. "Have you ever been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few weeks?"

"Um," Stan leaned back a bit, looking confused at the sudden turn in topic. "Whaddya' mean? Like, a romantic relationship?"

At Wendy's nod, Stan's eyes traveled to the ceiling. "Uhhhh. Yes. I had girlfriend about forty years ago. That lasted for about a month, though. But hey, I did get married!"

Wendy gave him a skeptic look. "I don't think that creepy statue counts, Stan."

Stan slapped a hand to his chest, giving her an offended look. "I'll have you know that Goldie is a fantastic money-maker! But nah, I wasn't talking about that. I got married to a gal once, until she tried to steal my car less than an hour later. Why are you asking sudden personal questions anyways?"

Wendy bit her tongue, unsure on how to answer, or even if she should answer. Eh, this probably wouldn't cost her job. "Uh, so you know my ex-boyfriend, Robbie?"

"Ya' mean that creepy teen with black hair and skinny jeans?"

"Um, yes."

"Then sure, what about him? Do I have another reason to punch a teenager?" Stan cracked his knuckles, his face eerily eager.

"And that would be a no. Sorry." Wendy denied, a large part of her amused. "But um, anyways, Robbie and Tambry have started dating like a few days ago, and they're so happy? Like, they smile and touch each other a lot and I just don't get why?"

She sighed, frustrated with her lack of understanding. "And just-I don't know. None of my relationships were like that and I've dated a lot of guys. It seems so weird to me for someone to just blush if another person looks at them. And it never felt right when someone tried to kiss me or something."

"Plus, everyone at the high school keep talking about who they like and whenever I say I don't like someone I get these looks. I don't see why I have to be with someone when I could just have some fun with my friends."

Unable to think of anything else to say, Wendy fell silent, and then started when she realized she just ranted to her boss about her confusion with relationships. Welp. At least it wasn't Mabel.

"Hm. Yeah, I see where you're comin' from." Stan spoke up nonchalantly.

"Wai-really?" Wendy asked, surprised. That...was not quite the answer she'd been expecting.

"Yup."

"Okay, nooo offense, Stan, but you like-flirt with a lot of ladies. And didn't you try to hook up with Lazy Susan once?" Wendy questioned, confused on how Stan out of all people could understand her.

"Uh, yeah. But um, I'll admit, kid. I kinda always found it strange, too." Stan admitted rather haltingly, his eyes looking at everywhere but her. "Back in my day, uh, a lot of kids were talkin' about their girlfriends or boyfriends too, and I just was never interested in it. I did try it, to try and see what everyone was yappin' about, but it just didn't work out."

He shrugged, "And well, I guess I still do try every once and awhile. Habits die hard, y'know? But honestly, I don't care for that mushy romantic stuff..." He trailed off, his expression steadily growing more and more awkward.

"So you've, never enjoyed being in a relationship?" Wendy cocked her head, interested.

"Well, it was nice and all being around someone I liked. But that someone always just expected something else from me that I guess I don't have." Stan reflected, shifting his hands on the cane.

“But, arn't we supposed to like someone?” Wendy scratched at the wood with her nails, frowning.

“Meh. People are supposed to like a lot of things, but some people don't. I’m supposed to like obeying the law, but I don't. I can’t see why just wanting some friends would be wrong. You do you.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Huh. Wow-that's, that's pretty cool." Wendy grinned, feeling relief that she apparently wasn't the only one that felt uninterested in being in a relationship. And to think that it was her boss she was relating to.

"If you say so, kid.” Stan coughed. "But enough of this weird talk. I've already taught you how to pick high-quality locks right? 'Cause I've heard that there's a diamond in the bank downtown, and I think it's about time for you to move past shoplifting and onto committing a real crime."

Wendy's grin only stretched wider. "Sounds great to me. But I am not going to be the one to pay our bail."

"Bail?" Stan's eyebrows scrunched together. "Who said we were going to get caught?"

Later, while definitely driving more than sixty miles per hour away from the bank and wailing police cars, Wendy glanced over at Stan, who was laughing about how they managed to escape, and cleared her throat. "Hey, Stan?"

Stan stopped and looked over at her with a mischievous grin. "What's up, kid?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever, kiddo. Anytime."

And I’m going to tag @mistrel-fox and @knights-in-two-dreams since they wanted a fic like this. Hope you guys enjoy!

Anyways, this was fun to write! The diamond theft is based off a cut storyline involving Stan and Wendy, and I thought why not. I decided not to include the diamond-stealing scene, so that this was kept at a reasonable length, but I'm considering writing that part out in a different fic if anybody's interested!

#My Fic #Stanley Pines #Wendy Corduroy #Stan and Wendy bonding #Gravity Falls

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videogamelover99 · 7 years

Text

Waking Days Ch. 2 - Rift

A/N: Finally, after a two month hiatus! To be honest, this chapter was a lot more difficult to write, mostly because there’s been, ahem, other fandoms that’ve grabbed my attention as of late. Also the content. As you may have noticed, I’m a lot more into character interaction than any real plot. Plot just helps give more character interaction, in my opinion, so writing a chapter that’s mostly plot and little character development is hard. That’s it. That’s my excuse.

hopefully though, this chapter would be worth the wait. As usual, I take any questions you guys wanna ask about the state of the fic, if anybody’s worried or confused or just wants to gush with me about fandom.

AU by my pal @doodledrawsthings. Based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan.

Thirty years took a great toll on his memories, but Ford still remembered this place. Dimension 52 rested in the back of his mind, even as he fled from one universe to another, meeting hundreds of people, places, and searching frantically for a concrete way of stopping Bill. It was one of the few worlds he knew that truly meant him no harm, where his stay wasn’t stained with loss and terror and Bill’s chaos. Years of voyaging had left his memory of this place faded and washed out like a watercolor painting, and remembering little details grew harder and harder, but as Stanford set foot into the temple, it was like he hadn’t even left.

One wouldn’t call the temple of Jheselbraum the Unswerving messy. It was cluttered, yes. There were jars and bottles of various herbs and alien substances on top of books and papers, something that closely resembled a simple chalkboard hidden behind a shelf, notes and equations written down on it in several different languages, the handwriting quick but precise. A stack of long unused books and scrolls were covered up with a tapestry of what looked like a pink, frilly amphibian. It was cramped and a bit overzealous, but in no way chaotic. There was a system, where everything had its place, and while Stanford could not even begin to understand what it was, the owner certainly could. Who was now standing in front of the already mentioned tapestry, regarding the two men.

“Stanford!” the woman smiled in greeting, all seven of her eyes crinkling upwards. “I’m so glad you’ve made it.” she then turned to Stan, something almost teasing in her gaze. “And Stanley, you’re even wearing pants. I’m flattered.”

Stan scowled at the floor, and Ford didn’t miss the way his face reddened in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, try to embarrass me some more, would ya?”

…

Mabel walked through the door, only to trip on a huge encyclopedia and almost fall flat on her face. The girl caught herself in time on the doorframe, casting a puzzled look on the rest of the attic. Books and papers were scattered around the room, some mathematics textbooks and some atlases, as well as a whole collection of chewed up pens. Uh oh, nerd alert.

“Broski? You there?”

Dipper was sitting on the edge of his bed, devouting another poor writing utensil. He was holding one of the moleskine notebooks the Grunkles sent him for christmas, the ones with the mysterious vibe that unsurprisingly matched Grunkle Ford’s old journals. Around him was a nest of crumpled up, ink-stained papers.

“No, no, that can’t be it...Maybe Vigenere…?”

Mabel rolled her eyes at her brother’s muttering, striding up to him and waving in front of his face. “Hellloooo? Earth to Dipperrr? Nerd-bro, come in!”

Dipper pushed her hand out of the way, annoyed glare already forming on his face. “Mabel! Can’t you see I’m-” His voice died in his throat at his twin’s startled face, voice immediately softening. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I just- Bill and his stupid rotten tricks!” The teen threw the notebook on the floor, coming up to rub his face with both hands. “I’ve been at it for hours and I still don’t know if it was a joke or not.”

Mabel carefully picked up the notebook, turning it over to look at the crumpled pages.

16°-18°, < 24°

“Did Bill give this to you?”

Dipper briefly uncovered his face to stare accusingly at the numbers. “More like threw it over his shoulder. And I still don’t get it, is it some sort of code? I tried longitude and latitude, but that leads to nowhere.” The younger twin buried his face in his knees, letting out a frustrated noise. “Bill with his stupid riddles and tricks. It probably doesn’t even mean anything, and he’s just laughing at me chasing some pointless garbage.”

“Hmm.” Mabel flipped the notebook upside down, then to the side, but no grand breakthrough seemed to hit her. “Well, you wanna know what I think?”

“That I should take a break?”

“Wow, see, twin telepathy!” the girl grinned, closing the moleskine and putting it back on the table. “You know what we should do? Go to town and get some food, that’s what. We haven’t been to Greasy’s in like, forever! And you can’t live off an ink diet, Bro-bro, trust me, I’ve tried.” The girl tugged Dipper to his feet, the other twin already smiling awkwardly. “And hey, who knows, maybe you’ll get some brilliant strike of genius afterwards!”

“Yeah,” the boy looked away, then reached for Wendy’s hunter hat, the one that was hanging dejectedly on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right! I’m right most of the time, after all.” Mabel grabbed him by the arm, the kids giggling as they rushed down the steps, Mabel skipping every other one and almost sending both of them crashing down.

“Mabel, be careful!”

“Hey, it’s not like we-” Mabel froze, casting her eyes toward the gift shop, where a familiar nasally voice spouted its daily dose of rants and nihilism. Though it wasn’t that voice that got her attention, despite its desperate effort to do so. No, it was the other voice, the one it seemed to be arguing with. “Oh no, not him.”

Dipper frowned. “Is that Gideon?”

“Right okay, we can still use the back door. Or climb out the window.” The teen proceeded to do just that, already half-way up the windowsill.

“Come on, Mabel! You know he’s at least trying! The least you could do is give him a concrete ‘no’.” Dipper, sounding uncharacteristically sympathetic, tugged on his sister’s leg. “And the door’s right there.”

She froze, staring at the far side of the room, where, indeed, was the location of the front door. “Whatever, it’s more dramatic if I-”

“Mabel.”

“He kept sending me those creepy letters back home! You don’t understand, he perfumed all of them!”

“Mabel.”

“And, I mean, I love chocolate, but I’m pretty sure those had some serious love potion magic in them, they were even sparkly-”

“Mabel.”

“OKAY, FINE!” Mabel yelled loud enough for the whole Shack to hear, the walls echoing a little at her outburst. The twins froze, an awkward silence falling on them both. Suddenly, the voice that Mabel had dreaded so much to hear burst through the hallway. “Mabel, my sweet, is that you?”

The girl sighed, her voice a lot softer than before. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. Happy?”

“Sugar Pie, are you there? I was just telling this bumbling little fool that-”

“You sure you wanna use that insult specifically, shortstack?”

“How dare-”

Mabel burst through the door, trying to look as haughty as possible. Dipper followed closely behind, awkwardly casting his eyes on the scene. Gideon was busy having a death stare with Bill, the latter having a definite advantage in height while the former looked a lot more alive on his feet. Wendy leaned over the cash register, looking bored as she watched the two bicker at each other, chewing what looked like a total of 5 slices of gum. There was no one in the giftshop, which wasn’t unusual being this close to closing hour. What else wasn’t unusual was the look of utter adoration that boomed on Gideon’s face the moment his eyes caught Mabel’s. “Mabel my Sweet! It’s so nice to see you. You know, your Grunkle Stanley is so generous to allow even cretins like these,” the cast a thumb at Bill, who looked more and more livid by the second, “To work here! Must be a Pines thing, such kind, kind people, yes…”

“Laying it on a bit thick there, huh, pal?”

“Silence, peasant!” Gideon snapped, “I will not be insulted by someone with an employee name tag!”

“Are you sure I can’t drop-kick him?” the demon mock-whispered to Wendy, who shrugged apathetically.

“If you wanna face those goonies he’s got by the door then go for it, dude.”

Said goonies were leaning on both sides of the door frame, both looking like they could lift up a whole truck, both bored as hell.

Dipper shuffled awkwardly to stand next to Wendy, while Mabel came up to Gideon, her face set in an accepting frown. “Hi, Gideon.” The ten-year-old smiled, reaching for a hug. The girl skillfully avoided it, reaching out instead to shake his hand. She grimaced at how sweaty it was, wiping it off behind her back. “Uh, can you maybe call off your, uh, friends?”

Gideon nodded eagerly, seeming dazed. “Of course, of course.” He snapped his fingers, and the three tattooed bulky dudes disappeared out the door, the friendly ding following suit.

Bill seemed to look a lot more eager. “Great, now can I drop-kick him?”

“No, Bill,” Mabel took a deep breath, backing away slightly at Gideon’s invasive stance. “No, you can’t.”

The lanky man raised an eyebrow. “Really, because it looks like I’d be doing ya a fav-”

“Bill Cipher??”

Mabel didn’t think there were enough question marks and exclamation points to properly convey the fortune-teller’s surprise. Completely forgetting any plan of wooing her, the boy’s beady little eyes fixing themselves on the man in question. A small grin spread across his face, and Bill’s eyes narrowed, as if daring him to say something. And say something he did. “Oh, my stars! If it isn’t Bill Cipher himself! Though I admit, you are looking a bit different these days. Though I feel like you’re lacking something. Say, a sailor suit?”

“Still mad about that one, huh, kid?”

Wendy snorted through her gum, seemingly at the mental image of Bill in a sailor suit. “Welp, time to close. I’m going home. You guys take care of these two disasters.” The red-head locked up the cash register and left, shooting the twins a parting wave as she did. It was kind of startling, how easily the 16-year-old accepted that the guy that turned all of her family into stone last year was now hanging around the Shack, but Mabel supposed she was dealing in her own way. Cool on the outside, maybe having a mental crisis on the inside. If anything, she could relate. Wendy had accepted Bill the same way you accept getting gum stuck in your hair: irritating and uncomfortable, but hard to get out.

Now that the teen had left, Gideon seemed to have gathered more courage. He turned to Mabel once again, clearing his throat and straightening his tie. “Now, I know you’ve only just recently arrived in town, but I was wondering if you could-”

“Uh, actually,” Mabel looked away, shifting from side to side, “Me and Dipper already had something planned. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Oh, that’s-” The plastered smile on the boy’s face twitched, like it was hard for him to keep it on, “Wonderful. Tell me all about it when you get back, okay?”

The girl sighed his overly-hopeful tone, not being able to stay cold after hearing it. “Sure, okay.”

Gideon kept smiling at her, seeming to expect something. Dipper cleared his throat, saving her from another awkward moment. “Uh, you kinda have to leave, man. We’re closed.”

“Oh right! Of course, of course.” the boy’s overly-gelled head turned to Bill, who’s been smugly quiet the whole time. “Doesn’t he have to leave as well?”

“He’s living with us, actually. Long story.”

“I...see…” Gideon’s eye twitched at that news. Still, a forceful smile stretched on his face, and he clasped Mabel’s hand in his own. “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again, my queen.”

“Uh, thanks, Gideon, you...really don’t have to.” Mabel retrieved her hand, quickly hiding it in her sleeve.

“But I want to.” He beamed at her proudly. Behind him, Bill put his hands around his neck in an over-the-top choking gesture, making the girl snort quietly through her nose.

“Bye, Gideon.”

“Bye, bye, Sugar Plum!” Gideon retreated, waving at Mabel as he swung open the door, the two goons he had outside picking him up and hosting him on their shoulders. The door swung closed with a loud squeak, and the twins let out a shared breath of relief.

“Man,” Dipper shook his head, “And I thought he’d be, y’know, better after the whole redemption biz. I think he just got more creepy.”

Mabel nodded, wincing as Gideon waved at her from the window. “After all that, I think I prefer ‘Shooting Star’.”

She blinked as Bill made a strange noise from behind, almost forgetting that he was still there in the first place. It was weird, how easily she got used to his overwhelming presence. Like someone placed a pack of dynamite in the corner and everyone just accepted it. “Hey, Bill?”

“What.” The demon scowled, already retreating into the house.

“Do you wanna, you know, come with us? To Greasy’s?”

Bill stared. Dipper stared. And Mabel quickly wondered what on earth possessed her to say that. “On second thought-”

“Yeah.”

“Definitely not.” Dipper piped in, looking like he’d just dodged a bullet.

“Wow, I wonder what part of ‘getting along with the guys whose town I completely trashed last time’ is a good idea.” Bill continued, looking annoyed and tired, “Sorry, kid, getting lynched by an enraged mob isn’t something I’m looking forward to in this lifetime.”

“Well, now you’re just overreacting.”

“Yes.” The demon deadpanned, leaving the shop with an air of finality.

“I don’t get it.” Mabel frowned, “He was fine with the shopping trip.”

Dipper shrugged, “There aren’t many people there that we specifically know, Mabel.” the boy tugged on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get food.”

...

Getting food was the easy part. Lazy Susan greeted them with open arms, insisting that the meal was on the house. “Now that you two sweethearts are back, it’s only fair if I treat ya to something.” The woman left, spilling coffee everywhere as she did, and if there was one thing Dipper could think of that came out good from Weirdmaggedon, it was the reputation their family got because of it. Gee thanks, Bill.

Mabel was in the process of shoveling as many pancakes in her mouth as it was physically possible, finishing it off with strawberries and syrup. “I could get used to this.” She mouthed over her food, grabbing the glass of milk.

“Yeah,” Dipper sighed, picking at his bacon dejectedly. He wondered if he should have gotten coffee instead, possible addictive consequences be damned. He saw Grunkle Ford drinking it in gallons a day, and the guy was like, 60. It should’ve been fine. He was going to highschool in September anyway, and from what he’s heard from Wendy, coffee is the only thing overworked students survive off.

“Hehy, Bro-bro, waht’s wronhg?” Mabel wolfed the rest of her pancakes down, before asking, “It’s not that stupid code again, is it?”

“Ugh, Mabel!” Dipper pushed away his plate, leaning on his elbows. “I thought this would help me with it, but I’m just more confused! I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“Sorry,” he added, when he saw Mabel wince at his tone, “I shouldn’t have-”

“Nah, it’s okay. Bill’s still a jerk.” Mabel grinned at him.

“The biggest jerk.” Dipper piped up.

“In the whole universe!”

“Multiverse.” he corrected.

“Wow, way to make a guy feel special.”

Dipper jumped in his seat. Bill was suddenly appeared out of nowhere, leaning over their table, hands folded smugly under his chin. How hadn’t he noticed the demons sooner? It was irritating, how easily he still spooked them despite being just as flesh and blood as everyone else. Talk about speak of the devil.

"Yikes, what's with the sour look, kid?" Bill grinned, shuffling into the seat next to them. "Ya look like a Meeseeks that's been alive for a day too long."

“A what-now?”

“Oh right, your dimension hasn’t reached the torture-induced-slavery-is-totally-okay level yet.” Bill shrugged, grabbing a strawberry from Mabel’s plate and popping it in his mouth. “Fun fact, human rights aren’t necessarily better the more advanced the civilization gets. Makes you think, huh?”

“What are you doing here, Bill?” Dipper scowled, raising his head to glare pointedly at the demon. “Weren’t you, like, scared someone would recognize you?”

“I remembered that the people here are as dumb as a log.” Bill frowned. “And I wasn’t scared. You don’t get a plan of wrecking the whole multiverse in order by being an idiot, is all I’m saying.”

“And then have it be wrecked in turn by two twelve-year-olds?” Dipper, bit back, feeling smug as Bill sputtered in his seat.

“You guys, look!” Mabel nearly leaped onto the table, pointing at something behind them. Before Dipper had a chance to wonder if there was something there of if she just wanted to end their bickering he froze.

There was indeed something. Really weird.

“Okay, so some guys just like to wear big cloaks. And look suspiciously like that Blind Eye cult. Maybe they’re cosplaying.”

“Cosplaying.” Bill echoed. “Kid, half of the people living in this dump don’t even know how to turn on a computer.” The demon’s eyes were narrowed, cautiously following the two cloaked figures that disappeared on the other side of the diner. “I know the irony of this is gonna set ya off, kid, but I don’t trust them.”

“You didn’t trust the speck of dust that was on your sandwich last week.” Mabel pointed out, finishing off the last of her meal. Still, her gaze was trained on the two guys in costume, not leaving them for a second even as she drank her milk.

“You humans die out of every little thing, you know that, right?” Bill sounded defensive. “How’s I supposed to know that wasn’t some kind of poisonous spore that would kill me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all knowing?” Dipper but back with a grin.

“Yeah, like I’d waste a minute of my unlimited lifespan looking at something as dumb as moss.”

“Guys, they’re leaving!” The two shady dudes got up from the booth, grabbing a to-go bag and exiting the diner, the door swinging back with an unwittingly cheery ding.

The three shared a glance. “Do we follow them?” Mabel breathed, jumping in her seat with anticipation.

The boy frowned, feeling hesitant despite the nostalgic excitement that was pooling in his stomach. Do they? On one hand, having a new mystery would not only be a refreshing start on their summer, but would distract him from the irritating headache that was that stupid code. On the other hand, there was Bill.

Bill, who met Dipper’s indecision with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “Yikes, what happened to Mr.’selling your soul for a dead laptop’?”

“I-”

“Cool, let’s go!” Already making up her mind Mabel dashed after the two figures, leaving Dipper gawking at her from the booth, Bill shrugging and slowly following behind.

“Hey, wait!”

…

“Do not touch that.” Stan retraced his hand, hiding it behind his back at that icy tone. Something told him he shouldn’t mess with her. That lady could be terrifying when needed to be, the freaky seven-eyed stare following him even as he backed away from whatever doohickey the chick was so sensitive about.

“Right, no touching, got it.”

Ford sighed, shooting his brother a warning look before he followed the woman deeper into the temple. Stan narrowly avoided a precariously piled book tower, shooting a quick glance at the rows upon rows of empty vials stacked neatly on several tall shelves. The salesman in him wondered how much all this sci-fi fantasy crap would be worth online, while the Mr.Mystery asked how much of this stuff he could sneak into the Mystery Shack without any issue. That weird, glowing blue, paperweight-like rock looked promising. Problem was, the last time he stole from a witch didn’t go that well, and Stan had a feeling that this one could do much worse than take his hands. Better safe than sorry.

So the man said goodbye to the radioactive rock, rushing to catch up to his overly enthusiastic brother.

They passed more of that voodoo-type shit on the way to wherever the hell that chick was taking them, stuff that handwitch could only dream on nicking, and Stan briefly wondered how his know-it-all brother even came across this lady. Okay, so Ford was automatically attracted to all things weird, but this?

Then they entered another, more spacious chamber, and Stan dropped his jaw somewhere along the way.

In a bizarre sort of nostalgia, it reminded him of the portal in the basement, or at least the first time he’d ever laid eyes on it. It was like his brother’s nerdy tendencies were all amped by a thousand, handed a couple of tons of scrap metal and tools and left with nothing to do for a few hundred hours. Every possible free space, every nook and cranny, every corner was filled to the brim with gadgets and gizmos. An unfinished robot arm was draped across a half-dismantled satellite.

“Wow.” Stan whistled appreciatively, and felt the Oracle's gaze as she eyed him (ha ha) from the side. “I mean, not that I'm surprised or anythin’, but...wow. No wonder my bro gushed about you so much. This is like his dream come true.”

Stanford coughed awkwardly into his fist, shooting his twin a pointed look that said not now.

The purple alien paid them no mind, kneeling down to shift through the rows upon rows of what Stan could only label as sci-fi stuff, eyes trained vacantly at the objects in her hand, but Stan could see the corner of her mouth turn up in a slight smile. Finally she stood, all seven feet of her, a small, shiny gizmo clenched gently in one hand. It vaguely resembled a clock, gold-colored dials glinting between the creature's fingers. She handed it to Ford, who cradled it in his palms. Closer, Stan could see the strange carvings etched on the metal, a language that didn't even seem coherent, nevermind human. Ford gawked at the clock thing some more, before shooting his attention to the purple lady. “Is this-?”

“Oh yes, though maybe not in the form you're accustomed to.”

“Yeah, great, anybody wanna fill me in here? Cause so far all I can see is a pretty good buck on eBay.”

Jheselbraum’s eyes crinkled, a hint of a smile. “This is a chronometer. Normally designed to handle small time paradoxes, I've repurposed it to handle other anomalies as well. It should not only measure the damage the Nightmare Realm may have caused to your dimension, but hold the seams of reality together quite longer, at least until we've figured out a more permanent solution.”

Stan eyed the thermometer thingy again, squinting at it in scrutiny. “So is this like some kind of super glue to hold that hole together? Cause that's what I'm getting out on it.”

“More like scotch tape, but yes, that's the idea.” The Oracle explained, erasing Ford's look of frustration. “The device would have to be recharged every few days or so, but since the damage hasn't spread further, I think will hold for quite a while.”

“And...what? This saucer shaped thingy is supposd’ta stop reality from screwing? Call me crazy but that sounds stupid.”

Ford shot a harsh look in Stanley’s direction, still gently calling the trinket. “I'm sure it will work.” Stan couldn't tell if he said it for himself or the Oracle next to him.

Said oracle didn't look very impressed, passively watching the two brothers bicker. “It would be wise to install it soon. I'm sure nobody wants that gap to grow any bigger.”

The two nodded.

…

“What are they doing here?”

“Shhh.”

“Ooh, maybe they’re a cult!”

“Like those Swollen Eyeballs?”

“...What?”

“Oops, haha, nevermind. You humans have way too many eye-related fanatics. Way to make a guy feel special, y’know?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You just did.”

“Mabel! Shh!”

The two hooded figures rounded the corner, disappearing in the dumpster alley between the post office and the barber shop. Dipper peeked at them from behind the wall, finding the two mysterious persons deep in a conversation. They talked in a low whisper, impossible for him to hear, and their hoods were on too low to see any of their faces. Despite not knowing what they were talking about, it struck the twin as odd, pretty shady even. Then again, not many people walked around in full satanic worshipper gear. So yeah, Dipper didn’t trust them, not one bit. On the bright side, at least they weren’t the feds. He’s pretty sure the last time they saw those, Grunkle Ford had wiped their memories clean MIB style. They probably wouldn’t be too happy if they ever found out.

Mabel kneeled next to Dipper in order to see some of the action. Bill just stood by, leaning against the brick wall. Maybe he didn’t care to see who those guys were. Maybe he was pretending he still could, without the need to actually turn his head and look. Either way, he suddenly looked bored, looking ready to leave, but for some reason hesitant to leave the twins alone.

Dipper turned back to the pair of shady weirdoes, leaning over his sister to get a better look. They weren’t wearing anything remarkable except the cloaks themselves, and a thin sash wrapped around each of their waists. It had some embroidery on it, now that he realized it, something that looked like writing, though definitely not English. Arabic? Cyrillic? The letters were defined yet flowing, something mimicking cursive without actually being cursive.

The hand gripping the bricks slipped.

Dipper tumbled down onto his sister, not having realized how dangerously far he’d leaned until it was too late. The two twins fell on the concrete with a bang, Mabel groaning in pain underneath him. The two figures turned toward them, and for a second Dipper wondered if they were like the bad guys in any action movie: ready to shoot down a witness to something they didn’t want getting out. He wondered if they had some crazy magic stuff going on, or if they’d just pull out a gun and get it done quick. They did none of that.

Instead they turned tail and ran, disappearing deeper into the alley, the robes dragging after them as they did. The twins breathed a shared sigh of relief.

Behind them, Dipper heard a slow clap. “Wow, way to go. A-grade sleuthing. Real Sherlock Holmes-like. The mystery twins. I don’t think I can run out of sarcastic remarks for that.”

“You could help us up.” Mabel growled underneath him.

“Nah.”

The boy slowly got up, stretching a hand to help his sister. “Who do you think those guys were?”

“Mass murderers. The kind that use your blood for sacrifices and carve all your insides out before burning your body to appease the gods.”

“...”

“Kidding! Or am I?”

Dipper dusted himself off, watching Mabel do the same, and cast a last look at the now empty alley. “We should tell Grunkle Ford.”

…

The track back to the Shack was long and exhausting. The heat of June weighed on the twins’ backs, making their movements sluggish and lazy. Bill trodded behind them, acting like he didn’t mind the weather, but Mabel could already tell he was just as uncomfortable, the way his mouth was forced in a tight line, sweat beading just above his eyebrows.

It was late-afternoon when they finally reached the Mystery Shack, the sun just peaking over the shingled rooftop, casting the attraction in a fiery glow. The house cast a long shadow over the driveway, bathing them in merciful cool. Mabel squinted at the front porch, seeing her two Grunkles sitting on the couch, deep in some kind of debate. The silhouette of the third visitor was just visible behind Grunkle Stan’s large frame, hands folded on her lap. The girl heard Bill draw a sharp breath behind her.

“Nora?” Dipper called out, running to meet the three.

Mabel spared a glance Cipher, who looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute. His face did a pretty good job of not letting it slip, but the way the demon dug his nails into his shirt made it clear he didn’t want to be here.

She wondered about that for a moment before shrugging it off, turning to follow her twin across the gravelly driveway. Nora smiled when she saw the two approach, but there was something going on. Ford looked somber, even more so than he usually was, and Stanley was too grumpy for it to be any good. Honestly, it looked like the two old men were trying to hide something.

“What’s going on?” Dipper asked, shooting a look to Grunkle Ford, hoping to glimpse at least something in his gaze. But the man’s face remained blank.

“Everything’s fine, unlike you two. Jeez, you kids take a tumble down a garbage dump?” Grunkle Stan hurriedly changed the subject, ruffling Dipper’s hair affectionately.

“Grunkle Stan-”

“Seriously, you guys have been acting really weird for a while.” mabel piped up, folding her arms and glaring at her uncles as effectively as she could. “What’re you hiding?”

“Probably that giant hole in reality.”

Any other time, Mabel would have taken this as another of Bill’s nonsense remarks. But the way the two old men suddenly tensed spoke volumes. Nora looked like she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes, looking to the side with an annoyed frown.

Stanford looked like he was struck by lightning, his eyes impossibly wide. “How did you-”

“Well, first off, I’m not blind, despite how much I feel like it.” Bill bit back, a grin on his face, seemingly enjoying the other man’s distress.

“What were you even doing there?”

Bill shrugged, inspecting his nails. “Looking for my hat. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Stan deadpanned, already looking like he’s accepted everything. “Ya got some kinda need for that stupid thing or what?”

The demon bristled, hands clenching at his sides, when Nora suddenly got up, silencing all three of them. “Is this really necessary? Because I’d prefer to avoid the drama.”

Bill took a step back, while Grunkle Ford looked no less calm than before. “I- what if he-?”

“What if I what? What’d ya think I’ll do? Get back my powers? Fat chance that’s happening.” Bill bit back, fists still clenched by his sides. The oracle sighed, moving away from the scene and coming to stand next to Mabel, the annoyed look growing more pronounced.

“You wanted to destroy the world, and now suddenly that plan’s all done and forgotten? Please,” Ford got up, looming over the demon, who looked no more willing to back down. “I know better than to fall for that-”

Cipher burst out laughing, catching the scientist off-guard. “Destroy the world, why in the seven hells would I wanna do that??”

“But- you-, why would you-”

“BECAUSE I LIVE HERE, GENIUS!”

Ford grew silent, eyes wide. Mabel turned to the oracle, only to find her gone, not a trace of her left. Grunkle Stan noticed the same thing, coming up to pull the two men away from each other before they could do something stupid. “Right, okay, shut up. Both of ya. The lady already left, and honestly, right now I kinda wish I could do that whole vanishing trick too.”

Bill shook himself, snapping out of whatever funk he was in, Stanford breathing heavily next to him, but no longer looking like he’d kill him.

That’s when Dipper finally spoke, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Grunkle Ford, what are you talking about?”

Grunkle Ford sighed, looking away briefly before coming to meet the boy’s gaze. “I have something to show both of you.”

#human bill au #bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #standford pines #stanley pines #jheselbraum the unswerving #a different form a different time #waking days #doodledrawsthings #pengychan #flat dreams #fanfiction #gravity falls #my writing #i swear the next chapter will be amazing you guys #thank you so much for waiting #this is also on AO3

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yourlocalyorozuya · 7 years

Text

If you could get your wish granted one day...?

Pairing: Soraru/Mafumafu

Rating: M+ SUPER HOT OH LORD

A03 Link

[[STORY UNDER CUT OH LOOOORD]]

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

I wish it was still April Fools.

...

Yes this is an April Fool's fic. "10 days late?" You're asking me?

Friend, time is an illusion, death is upon us and my uploading schedule is the real joke of this entire fic. It was actually supposed to be me uploading 2 fics in one day but this works too tbh

Anyway, if you're still here, might as well deliver!

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

“This is terrible!”

“What?”

“Terrible!” Mafumafu says, “The title is so long, it can barely even be crammed into the post title!”

“Don’t you mean fanfiction title?” Soraru replies, frowning, “Then again, it depends on the site where it’s posted.”

“It’s still long either way! It’s so long, we had to cut it to cram it short in both! We made it into an awkward looking question!”

“It looks like something you’d ask for Truth or Dare.” Soraru concedes, “Then again, it’s not like this fic is going to be taken seriously. It’ll probably go for 3 notes/kudos/likes, like usual.”

“Yeah. I mean no! Isn’t that bad?! Shouldn’t we try to entertain as many people as possible?? Isn’t the the whole point of a story in the first place?!”

“Of a TV show, maybe. I don’t know about books...or fanfictions...in any case, the M rating should be enough to draw more than 3 readers in, right?”

“Anyway, we can’t really do that with you acting like that!”

“...? What’s wrong with how I act?”

“You have all the enthusiasm of burnt ashes! We can’t engage the audience like this!!”

“...??? Isn’t this how I usually sound though?”

“That’ll appeal to the Soraru fangirls for sure, but we need to bring in as many people as possible! We can only get so many ikemen fans, you know!”

“Exactly how do you want me to act then?!”

“It’d be nice if I could get an ounce of emotion in there...and hasn’t this format gotten confusing?!”

“Why? What do you mean???”

“First of all, this is entirely dialogue-based and no-one can tell who’s even talking any more!”

“Isn’t this how fanfictions are written though?”

“It’s too confusing!! Much too confusing! It’d be easier if we did-”

Mafumafu: Something like this!

Soraru: Eh?

Mafumafu: The ever-popular radio format!

Soraru: Are we seriously doing the radio transcripts?! Isn’t this for something like sexting fics or something?

Mafumafu: -puts hand on heart- What kind of fanfictions have you been reading Soraru-san?!

Soraru: You’re even putting your gestures in this format now?! Why has this become Hikikomoranai Radio all of a sudden??!

Mafumafu: It’s what we’re most known for!

Soraru: This and not the songs we’ve made?!

M: Anyway, we have an April Fools fanfiction to write in!

S: Our names are already being shortened, geez. Are they that hard to write?

M: Usually, when we do April Fools’, we have one thing we turn to.

M: So naturally, we’re going to be girls again!

S: Y’know that changing our icons to girl versions of ourselves and posting as girls isn’t really crossdressing right?

M: We sung as girls though!

S: That’s entirely different from crossdressing!

M: We’ve crossdressed before!

S: You have, I haven’t!

M: I mean, I did but that’s entirely different!

S: How exactly is that different?!

M: I never said we were crossdressing, Soraru-san!

S: You said we’d be girls though?

M: Eheheee, I did!

M: -holds up really strange looking rock-

S: Okay, I can see that thanks, we don’t need the gesture thing!

M: But our audience does Soraru-san.

S: Mrgh.

M: And don’t interrupt, please! Now, this is a magical stone!

M: And it transforms us into our inner selves!

S: ....

S: Mafumafu-kun, I’ve always had my doubts...

M: Eh?

S: I’ve had my doubts...ever since we did that song. But...

M: Eh??? Why are you talking in keigo all of a sudden???

S: You really are a Chuuni aren’t you?

M: EH?

S: I’ve had my suspicions, but really it’s come to this!! How can I ever associate with someone who actually thinks he’s a ruler of darkness and will take over the world-

M: Soraru-san??

S: I...I alWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING IS THIS TRUE HOW

M: Soraru-san!

S: Yes?

M: Y-you calmed down from that rant fast. And hey, listen to me first!

S: Fine, okay.

M: Look, this stone is a magical relic...stop making faces.

S: Okay, okay.

M: And all we have to do is touch it and we transform into magical girls!

S: And I’m lost.

M: Eh, that was a flawless explanation!

S: You said we...transform into our inner selves! How are our inner selves magical girls?? We’re boys!

M: Inside every person is a magical girl! Even boys!

S: The hell???

M: Just trust me and touuuuch it already!

S: Geez okay, okay already!

M: Ready? Ah, Soraru-san, put your whole palm on it, not just a couple of fingers! That’s not enough!!

S: Do you even realize how that...-sigh- Fine.

M: Okay, now we’re transforming!

M: Please feel free to imagine any kind of transformation music that you want during the transition!

S: Like from PM**.

M: Or from Ma*io!

S: Or even from the Ga*ette. Or One OK Ro*k.

M: Soraru-san, that last one was too obvious! We won’t be able to avoid copyright! This fic wil be taken down!! And then the author will be too lazy to upload it again!!!

S: Since when did this become Gin****?

S: And hey! Don’t we have songs of our own they can use!?

M: Oh, yeah. Good point.

S: In any case, just get on with it already!

M: Okay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magical transformation sequence!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mafumafu: By the power of the void, the darkest phase of the moon!

Mafu-oh: I am the lady of darkness and war! Mafuyu, the goddess of the moon at your call!

Mafuyu: ...

Mafuyu: Uwah, even my voice changed! This is so cool! Soraru-san!!

Mafuyu: ..? Soraru-san?

Soraru-?: ...

Mafuyu: Ah, Soraru-san?! You’re a...prettier girl than I thought you would be! Wow!

Soraru(?): ....

Mafuyu: Soraru-san? Is something wrong?

Soraru(??): ...ing.

Soraru(??): This is...embarrassing...

Mafuyu: Gasp!

Soraru(idk): ?!

Mafuyu: Even Soraru-san’s voice is cute! In fact it’s too cute! I’m almost creeped out by it!

Creep-aru: H-how cruel, Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: MAFUYU-CHAN?!???? EH

Who are you and what have you done with Soraru: Please don’t make fun of me!

Mafuyu: ??!?!?!?? Soraru-san?

Nani the kuso-ru: Eh?

Mafuyu: Soraru...chan??

The f is happening-ru: What is it, Mafuyu-chan?

Mafuyu: Keigo again!? Also something really weird is happening to your name tags!!

-whistles innocently- Soraru(?): Ah..that. I-If Mafuyu-chan is having a cute name then I’d like a cute name too!

Soraru(?): Please call me Soraruko!

Aight then, Soraruko: I’m um...i-it’s so embarrassing when I say it out loud!!

Mafuyu: Wh-

Mafuyu: Weird! Too weird!!

Soraruko: Eh?!

A Suddenly Shouting Mafuyu: WhY HAS SORARU-SAN TURNED INTO A TSUNDERE

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!?

Mafuyu: Not even a tsundere!! A Deredere?! Wh-this is too much of an attitude change!

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, please calm down! Your chair!! You’re going to fall out of your chair!!!

Mafuyu: Ah!

-sound of loud objects-

R.I.P nerds.

Soraruko: H-hey! Don’t kill us off just yet!!

Damn.

Soraruko: You don’t want to write this that badly?! Ah!! Mafuyu-chan, are you okay?!

Mafuyu: Ah...is that you, god?

Soraruko: A-aaaaaah, Mafuyu-chan!! It’s too early to go up to heaven!! D-don’t go!

Mafuyu: Ah...are you an angel? Are they welcoming me into hell finally?

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, that’s the wrong place!

Mafuyu: Eh, Soraruko? Wow...your hands are really soft??

Soraruko: Eh!?

Mafuyu: It’s kind..of...weird.

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: See, Soraru-san would have immediately called me creepy or pushed me away! What is this?!

Soraruko: ...I-is that so?

Mafuyu: Eh?

Soraruko: I-is that your type after all, Mafuyu-chan?!

Mafuyu: EH

Soraruko: I-I thought you were joking! Are you really a hardcore M?!

Mafuyu: I’m an S!

Soraruko: That’s the part that you take offence to?!

Mafuyu: Anyway, this is too weird! I’m going to leave and post some updates on twitter, okay?

Soraruko: W-wait, Mafuyu-chan!

-Hurried footsteps and the slam of a door-

Soraruko: Ahh, she left. I can’t do this all alone, Mafuyu-chan...

Soraruko: ....

Soraruko: So that’s her type huh...

Soraruko: If...that’s what it takes then-

You’re going to be an M? You??

Soraruko: Is that really so surprising?

Well, yes?

Soraruko: You’re the writer right? You should know exactly what I’m capable of.

Soraruko: -polite smile-

...

So the april fools’ twist is that you’re a yandere?

Soraruko: No, it’s this entire pointless fanfiction.

Good point.

Soraruko: ...You can end this now.

Alright, alright, geez.

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...

well yeah that’s it man

sorry about this i’ll resume my attempt of quality uploads after this fic so if you’re a new reader i hope the cringe didnt scare you off

...

well they’re all probably gone by the halfway mark eh

so yeah, if you’re still here mad props to you friend

and thanks for reading my poor attempt at humor!

See ya! :D

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#iratheweak writes #soramafu #soraru #mafumafu

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