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#they're always so great together

mewtwo24 · 2 months

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Not to be That Guy but like.

Am I the only one that can't stop thinking about how Tianlang-Jun says about Luo Binghe that he pretends to be cold-hearted like his mother. The hint of fondness there, the heartache in that utterance.

Like it drives me absolutely insane. Imagining her putting on a front of strength, cold and driven and unrelenting. Why does TLJ say that about her. Did she secretly look for solutions that meant reconciling with demons instead of hurting them when her sect wasn't looking? (I wonder this because I feel like his weird fondness for SQQ would lowkey track if it's connected to the woman he once loved.) Did he mean that she was tasked with basically assassinating him and she fell in love with him instead (re: failed step one)? Did he mean that she was fond and doting in her own way (e.g. conceding he was attractive, paying for his exploits and humoring him)? Did he mean that, like LBH, she thought that power would be the thing to protect her--and that it was disguising a person who was deeply and privately wounded? All four????? I don't need sleep I need a n s w e r s

Did she know about the Huanhua Palace Master's skeevy ass intentions before she met TLJ? Or did those only come to significant light after she fell in love with TLJ? Is that why she never anticipated that level of betrayal, because initially she had no intention of being with anyone romantically? And HHPM just assumed she would be under his thumb forever?? Was she furious at her own indiscretion or did she try to use the pregnancy as a bargaining chip, a way to try to stop the immortals of Cang Qiong Mountain from attacking TLJ (plus the bonus of marriage entrapment no takesies backsies this is where LBH gets it from)? Did she try to use that claim on her to dissuade HHPM from his covetous advances, framing herself as tainted so that she could finally escape? Did she dream of a life by TLJ's side, far away from Cang Qiong Mountain?

Like. Literally every single permutation of what this could mean guts me to hell. Do you ever just cry about tianxi because I--[loud bawling noises]

#svsss #tianxi #tianlang jun #su xiyan #like this shit keeps me awake at night #i'm trying to put fic ideas together and every time i go back to that line i just #find myself trying to parse and hone out su xiyan's mannerisms/personality #zzl's descriptions help a great deal but i also love that they're limited in the sense that #1. zzl was clearly scared shitless of/disconcerted with her LMFAO #2. he was suspicious of her (as a cultivator fundamentally) and its fascinating that TLJ did not seem to share this suspicion at all #or one could argue tlj just didn't care beyond his attraction and glee being around her jkahglfdskjhsfkhjg #there is also the hilarious implication that part of what turned tlj on so much about sx is the fact that she could prbly kill him #tlj really said 'i love a woman who can and WILL kick my ass'#'none of that soft power seduction shit manhandle me or nothing'#like he always believed deep down--or at the very least wanted to believe--that she loved both him and lbh dearly #i'm not usually the fix-it fic type but the Way I Need To See Su Xiyan Destroy Huanhua Palace Master's Entire Life.#i just want sx and her boytoy to live happily ever after is that so wrong?#i also think of that person (im so sorry tumblr user i dont rmr who u are at the minute) that said there had to be trust between tlj and sx #because YES. ABSOLUTELY. I AGREE. AND I WANT IT FOR ME #don't mind me just the usual descent into madness anytime i think too hard about svsss #i need to outline damn you airplane and your refusal to expand on LBH's juicy ass backstory #ill never forgive the chinese (joke)

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

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Usopp's constant negativity and anxiety are something useful and "positive" at the end of the day (eg: fight against Perona) because he doesn't necessarily need to change his views, he just needs to trust himself and his abilities more and he just uses what he has at the moment which is, you know, negativity. It is not something positive but it does keep him safe from danger and he will end up being proud of himself and stronger than he could ever imagine, but that doesn't mean he'll stop being negative. It's just another personality trait a lot of people have, and Usopp using it for his advantage is something great, I feel. He takes pride in being like that. He's loud and shameless about it.

Unlike Sanji, who dwells on his negativity on his own. Quietly. And lets it consume him without having any power over it. His self-sabotaging and self-sacrificing behavior often comes from a place of giving up out of fear of others getting hurt to save him because that's pretty much his core fear. Being a burden/Not being able to save the people he cares about from himself and his past. It's not something the manga shows that much in comparison to Usopp's negativity, but Sanji's pessimistic views are pretty much one of the reasons why WCI happens and why he puts himself in the worst situation in Wano.

And I think (this is why I'm writing all of this) that they're perfect for each other because Usopp could show him that being afraid and negative isn't something so bad. After all, at least Usopp is aware that if he can't do something, the crew will help him out no matter what. Usopp's negative, yes, but it's alright because he doesn't go through it on his own. Even if he does look shameless and "selfish" when desperately asking for help (he isn't, by the way. It's actually pretty reasonable to act like that). Sanji needs to learn to ask for help shamelessly too and he needs to stop putting all the weight of the world's negativity on his shoulders. They need to carry it together.

Like- There's just something so personal in Usopp going "Yes! I am scared. Frightened even. Please, help!" because he might not like that part of him and he's trying to be stronger and more independent every day, but he acknowledges that things can go south and his reaction is very fight or flight but pretty mostly flight to be safe. While Sanji's response is always to fight because he refuses to let others know he needs help in case something happens to them (and also because he feels ashamed of feeling weak). Usopp shares the responsibility and accepts that he's kind of a loser sometimes but Sanji refuses to do so.

This is just a thought about Sanji learning that being a coward and asking for help isn't bad because they're meant to do stuff like that, and Usopp growing to be stronger and independent but not necessarily stop being pessimistic because sometimes you just... Are like that. Sometimes you're scared. Sometimes you have anxiety. And that's alright. You can be strong anyway.

#now this is one of the 1289123719834718937981 reasons why sanuso works so well together #they're literally perfect for each other idc #i just find the way oda portrays usopp's negativity really cool bc he takes that one 'negative' trait and turns it into a defense mechanism #against perona i mean #water 7 literally happens because usopp actually lets himself drown in negativity for once instead of trusting his crew like he always does #he won't stop seeing himself as less important than them and instead of communicating that or asking for help he decides to leave #it's a reasonable response when you're on the verge of a mental breakdown tbh but sanji teaches him it's okay for others to help you #which is funny because sanji refuses to use that for himself but that's because he's stupid and hates himself #they both hate themselves a lot but love each other a ton so. great relationship. teaching the other how to love #me when i say 'loser baby' from hazbin hotel could easily be sanuso but nobody shares that specific braincell with me #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso

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butchsophiewalten · 8 months

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Man this is so random but this theory is stuck in my head and I wanna see how other people feel about it because I don't see people talk about it a lot (I have no clue if the link will go through properly since I've never put a link in a ask box)

https://www.tumblr.com/art-w0rm/667910993425350656/theory-time

Oh god not this theory again. I really truly try not to be mean to people for no good reason on this blog, but this theory is literally one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever seen in my entire life. I don't talk about this theory because to me it's like the walten files theory equivalent of that tubby custard mechanically separated chicken post.

Most of the time I genuinely don't even consider it worthy of my time, because it's nonsense, but this is a very nicely worded ask, and I really don't mean to dedicate any of the vitriol I hold towards this theory to You, poor anonymous person, so I will deconstruct it. I will go through the theory point-by-point and deconstruct why I disagree with it.

First up, this:

Showbear is not a character in The Walten Files anymore. Showbear was fully retconned and is never going to appear in the series again. He was effectively just a cameo of ThunderingStatic's (one of Martin's friends) OC, but when The Walten Files blew up and people started assuming Showbear was Martin's character, Static decided to withdraw his character from the series and focus putting him in other projects.

Martin talked about this on Twitter forever ago, but I wouldn't be able to find that tweet now. But here's a bit from the interview he did with KnowYourMeme back in 2021 where he talks about it:

Now this:

This is just stupid to me? Like a complete logical incongruity? I barely even know how describe what is dumb about this because I can't even fathom how anyone draws this conclusion from this information. How is it strange for a man to say 'if my wife isn't home by the time she said she was going to be, let me know, in case something happened.'????? Why would Rosemary be out cheating on her husband with her fucking daughter with her??? If Rosemary was cheating on her husband why would her whole life collapse when he went missing? If Rosemary was cheating on her husband why would she show up at the restaurant every day after he disappeared asking if anyone had seen him and hoping to find him alive??? Why would she make paintings of herself and him together after he disappeared????? What the fuck are you talking about?

Ok now this:

Whatever. This is maybe the most coherent part of the theory, to me. I definitely agree that Sha evokes a 'wolf in sheep's clothing' sort of aesthetic, but I do remember Martin saying something in a Twitter Q&A at one point about how that wasn't actually intentional, and that Bon was the character he actually meant to seem unusually predatory. I looked for a while and couldn't find a screenshot of that, but I did find this one where he says the thing about Bon:

So whatever. take that with a grain of salt.

I don't even know what to say. here. Whatever. sure she was rolling in the hay

yeah Rosemary is asking if she's still beautiful because she cheated on her husband and not because she was chopped up and stuffed inside a big animatronic sheep. I think this is correct and is the True Deep Lore.of the walten files. I'm sure this doesn't have anything to do with the recurring motif of the double-meaning behind the word Beautiful either.

I don't know why it's weird that the lost lingering spirit of a mother would be calling out to her only living child. I Don't know why that needs additional explanation involving this batshit infidelity conspiracy theory.

Sha's chest is also ripped out

So is Banny's, honestly? Just a little less?

ok now this:

I guess I can't disprove this except that I think this is dumb. I think this is a really incredibly stupid logical leap to make. Y'know I really meant to go into this levelheadedly and very calmly go through every point and talk about why I think it's Decisively Disagreeable or whatever but I can't. I really can't. I just cannot keep my patience with this sort of thing.

You'd think if there was an infidelity aspect here it would've been lampshaded in some respect, at all, in the old /sophiewalten findjackwalten page text. Where it's literally Sophie talking to Jenny about what she remembers about her family.

Especially if the idea is that Sophie is meant to have been there. You'd think something like that would have come up here. Not 'she was nice and a good mom until my dad disappeared and her mental health started getting worse'

#ask #this theory always feels like someone's pulling a prank on me. like they're trying to see how much stupid bullshit they can say convincingl #before i notice and get mad #i'm sorry i couldn't keep it together for you anon I really dont mean to make anyone feel like an idiot #i just really don't have the patience for something like this today I think.#we haven't seen a lot of rosemary's characterization in the walten files yet #but everything we HAVE seen externally characterizes her as loving and compassionate but also sharply protective of the people she loves #and also so very deeply incredibly in love with her husband #and there's actually a decent bit of positioning her and jack as equals in their relationship which isn't exactly usual for the time #yknow. she has her own car and she has a job (even if its working for her husband's company.)#she's headstrong and ferociously talented and her husband is very supportive of her and of her artistic endeavors #yknow. the tragedy of jack and rose isn't that their relationship was bad #it's that their relationship was great and it was cut short over factors outside of their control #and now it lingers through the hallways of abandoned buildings as a broken facsimile of itself #there was a wonderful family full of people who loved each other intensely and had their whole lives still ahead of them #and it took one summer for all of it to be gone

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ansonmountdaily · 1 year

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Anson Mount and Ethan Peck at FAN EXPO Cleveland

Anson Mount and Ethan Peck are visiting another FAN EXPO touring convention, this time in Cleveland, Ohio - March 24 2023.

Their usual schedule includes a Star Trek: Strange New Worlds panel, autograph signing, plus photo sessions and selfies with fans. The official highlights clip from Day 1 (Friday) has a teeny bit of footage from the panel, and of Ethan waving at the camera when he was doing signings. :)

Source: Official FAN EXPO Cleveland Twitter + short clip, psikey13 on Instagram (Thank You!)

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tswwwit · 1 year

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Could we get a taste of that new work you started…👀

Heck, have the whole thing! This is for that AU of an AU where Ford captured Bill/Bill was his familiar, and Dipper freed him, like an idiot. Here's the first fic and here's some needed backstory.

---------------------------------------

Dipper leans over to let his fingers trail through the water. It’s oddly warm to the touch. Bill’s voice carries, weird and echoing, over the river and through the empty city.

Which Dipper’s ignoring, for the moment.

Not like he’s missing much; he can't understand the lyrics anyway. Bill’s demonic singing continues over his inattention.

This dream is distinctly… not a good one. On the surface, at least; Dipper’s not terrified, but only because of his company.

He also might be a little jaded at this point.

Truth be told, he’s visited a lot of dreams at this point. They’re Bill’s go-to meetup spots. Though Dipper hasn’t really been the biggest fan, so far, he’s never been in any danger. That he knows of. Bill’s made sure of that.

Bringing Dipper to a dream that lacks his idea of 'pizazz', or gore, or immediately evident monsters is a new tactic - but at least it’s not a bad one.

It’s eerie, for sure. The silence beyond Bill’s yodeling adds an extra layer of ‘creepy’ - but the boat is nice, the company’s familiar. Even the water’s warm against the tips of his fingers, leaving clean, bright lines in the river -

Dipper yanks his arm back with a start, and he shakes the water off rapidly. Some of the red drops leave spots on his shirt and pants..

The broken surface of the water bleeds bright red. Like wounded flesh.

Dipper grimaces. He’d back up, but there’s no space in the gondola.

And - as a bonus - it looks like it’s attracting more glimpses of half-formed shadows. Of course. Dipper can only catch them out of the corners of his eye - dim, too-lanky shapes he never fully sees through the fog in the alleyways - but maybe it’s best to ignore those, too.

Still not a bad dream, necessarily. Things could be way worse.

But like everything to do with Bill, it’s unnerving. With a side of ‘constantly feeling you're being watched’.

“Ahem,” Said triangle clears a nonexistent throat. Bill thumps the stick on the bottom of the river, the one he’s been using to guide them along the city canals. “Hello! Listen up, sapling, I’m serenading here.”

Dipper shuffles around until he finds a shaky seat back in the gondola. Bill doesn’t bother. He doesn’t have to worry about balance, with his floating in midair thing.

“This is… interesting.” Dipper says. Bill brightens up, lower eyelid rising. So that’s a start - but he’s not sure how to follow it. He tucks his arms around his legs instead. “Why are we-”

“Vide stellas quae tremunt!” Bill continues his song without any notice of the question. Dipper tries waving at him, but he’s already closed his eye.. “Amoris et spei!”

No explanation, then. Dipper rolls his eyes.

God forbid Bill not have attention on him for ten seconds.

“I sense,” Bill says, tapping under his eye thoughtfully. “That you might not be appreciating this, kid.” Said eye rolls in its golden socket. “Why am I not surprised!”

At Dipper’s shrug, Bill grumbles something under his breath, and pushes the gondola along. Silent, for a moment.

Dipper shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Absent the music, this place is extremely eerie. There’s a light fog on the canals, and he doesn’t dare look into the alleys.

In a way, he understands why Bill’s like this. Needing company. Demanding attention. Being demanding is part and parcel of his demonic nature, and he was also stuck in a prison for thirty freakin’ years. That alone would make someone deranged.

Bill was just insane even before that.

Thankfully, irrepressible as always, Bill starts humming some other tune. Dipper’s glad he started again; he must be in a better mood. Bill’s huge eye narrows slightly in contemplation.

Then he lets out a low, self-satisfied cackle, and rubs two hands together. A third arm keeps steering the boat.

Dipper rolls his own eyes.

Yeah, this is definitely going to pan out like Bill expects. Because everything Bill’s done has worked out great for him.

Bill said he had plans for Dipper, but he’s taking his sweet time getting to them. It barely seems like there is one, most nights.

Whatever he’s after, it might work better if he focused on his goal.

Instead, he’s making Dipper focus on him.

Every time they’ve met up - and it’s been months - Bill’s clearly making some kind of effort. He’s hinted at a deeper truth, dozens of times. He taunts, and he talks, and even teaches on a whim. His methods are obscure and bizarre, they seem out of place - but Dipper gets the sense that Bill genuinely thinks it’s important.

He must really be distracted by his ego, because so far? His ‘plan’ doesn't seem all that sinister. It’s like he’s barely started it, or it’s genuinely not-terrible - which is why Dipper willingly joins Bill in his dreams.

Okay. That, plus a certain amount of sheer, idiotic curiosity. Dipper’s not perfect.

But he knows Bill’s trying to show him something.

Maybe if Dipper got it - whatever ‘it’ is - then he’d be able to thwart the plan. But until he finally gets it, or it comes to fruition or… Until something really evil happens, he guesses, then they’re just going to keep…

Meeting up? Hanging out? Dipper’s not sure which phrase fits right.

Judging by how it’s gone so far, that ‘until’ might be a while.

So long as Bill’s just reveling in attention, though - there’s no reason to stop him screwing himself over. Freedom seems like a big deal to him, and if the last few months are any indication? He’s been enjoying it immensely.

Feeding Bill’s ego a little can’t hurt, and it’s. Not bad, really.

Dipper just. Doesn’t have a lot of people to talk with who aren’t family, and Bill’s always up for a conversation. Even if it mostly devolves into bickering about stupid things, and Bill’s awful, awful jokes - Dipper’s finding he doesn’t mind that much. Bill’s quick-witted, weirdly charming for a person who’s a shape, and his magical knowledge has a depth that’s breathtaking. Even if it comes in an annoying golden package.

Whatever works, works, though. As long as Bill’s eager to hang out, then Dipper might as well indulge him.

After all, Bill could be up to worse things than bothering Dipper. And when it comes right down to it - he’s kind of fun. In an insane, demonic way.

Dipper’s still cautious. He’d be an idiot not to be.

But so far, Bill’s keeping his word.

Come to think of it, the plan must be one of the reasons Bill’s still here, in this dream. He’s making sure this isn’t a nightmare, while he tries to convey his… something. Possibly in a manner that won’t completely chase Dipper off. But if he can figure it out, before Bill manages to be super evil -

Dipper tucks his arms around himself tighter in the chill of the fog. He shakes his head to clear it.

This is novel, and interesting -

And very, very dangerous.

He’s got to stay wary. Reminding himself that Bill is absolutely insane.

“What, you chilly or something?” Bill sets fists on his angles. He was humming for a while, but now he looks curious. He even floats in a bit, while the stick keeps steering the gondola without a pilot. “This is what you get for having a crappy endothermic system.”

“Shut up.” Dipper tucks his legs together too. The temperature, if anything, seems to have dropped by a few more degrees. “Didn’t you make this dream? Can’t you control the-”

“Ahem. Unlike some amateurs, I know how to set the atmosphere.” Bill shuts his eye, somehow managing to look self-assured without a face. He wags a chiding finger at Dipper, floating close enough to flick his nose. “You wanna keep your empty nightmares on refrigerator settings. Fits the whole ‘eternally preserved’ theme.”

“And how does singing bad opera fit the ‘theme’?“ Dipper smacks Bill on the side. Dumb move, it only hurts his fingers - though Bill's not cold, like the air. It makes him pause. “...Hey. That wasn’t in Italian.”

“When in Rome, speak as the Romans do! And they were chatting in Latin before your forebears had forebears.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. “It's the source of Romance languages!”

A minor detail. One Bill’s using to avoid the question - and he only resorts to being a pedant when he’s caught.

Dipper narrows his eyes -

Then seizes the opportunity.

And the triangle.

As Bill thuds against Dipper's chest, he wraps his arms around him tight. Bill flails a bit, muttering something impossibly muffled against Dipper's chest. How does that happen, he doesn't even have a mouth. Dipper decides to ignore the impossible, yet again. Squeezing Bill a little harder, like he could crumple him like tinfoil. Knowing that he won't.

Man Bill’s warm; radiating off him like a personal, annoying space heater. Dipper can already feel the sensation returning to his fingers, gripped tight on Bill's edges.

And frowns. “Wait. I thought this was supposed to be nightmare Venice, not Rome.”

“Cripes, what a pedant.” Bill groans, the hypocrite. Dipper can’t see his eye - he’s rotated it around to face forward - but he’s sure he’s rolling it as well. He floats lower in Dipper’s lap, and one raised finger jabs the soft underside of Dipper’s jaw. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties. I couldn’t take you anywhere!”

Bullshit, Bill’s arrogant enough to take anyone anywhere, and be smug about it.

And if he’s trying to pretend he’s not in a good mood, maybe he should stop glowing so bright.

Dipper squeezes him a little tighter. Bill’s been caught, he can’t escape - and while he hasn’t totally settled down, he’s letting his legs dangle over Dipper’s and only kicked him once. It was barely a tap.

“I get it. You’ve never spent much time in Italy.” And Dipper smiles. This’ll get to him. “Bill Cipher claims to be the dream demon extraordinaire - but he never managed to bother a Pope.”

The sharp, indignant noise Bill makes is so, so sweet. Dipper jostles the top hat with his cheek, just to bug him more, and listens to the ensuing weird burble with a grin.

In the end, Dipper gets a thoroughly informative rant about the intricacies of both Italy and Rome and parts of an empire that he’s pretty sure never existed. Bill’s alight with indignance - and amusement. Possibly at his own bullshit.

Dipper really, really wishes he had a notebook with him.

Talking with Bill is always fascinating, and infuriating. Half of this has to be bullshit. Some of it might be true. Dipper… should really check out more history books. Maybe then he’d have more chances to call out Bill’s bullshit, with facts. For the moment, questioning him on every aspect pokes enough holes to help sort out the fiction.

It’s an easy conversation, and a long one. Bickering with Bill takes ages, makes Dipper struggle for words, he’s usually a little annoyed - and it’s oddly pleasant. In that Dipper doesn’t have to be pleasant. Or even nice. Bill absorbs it all with infinite confidence, and shoots back with pointed ripostes.

“-And that’s why garum was crappy, and ya shouldn’t miss it.” Bill finishes. He pats Dipper’s arm twice, and, reluctantly, is released. He floats up above the gondola as it drifts, slowly towards a dock. “But I think we’re getting off topic.”

“How? We-” Always argue, Dipper was about to say. That was before he stood up; now he’s thinking better of it. “Shit.”

He tries to balance as the gondola shakes; some of the blood-water laps over the sides. Crap, arguing with Bill is one thing, but he didn’t want to literally rock the boat.

Bill floats up further, watching the sloshing - and starts laughing.

Dipper glares, but the stupid tiny canoelike thing is shaking under him, he grips the sides. Since they’re next to the dock, he smacks a palm on it. It steadies things, barely.

“Pfft, loser.” Bill’s lower eyelid is raised in amusement. He watches Dipper struggle for another moment - then laughs harder, before holding out a hand. “C’mon already!”

Dipper takes the offer, absurdly grateful. Bill’s hand is very warm, like the rest of him.The black void of the not-flesh is a strange non-texture under his palm, steadying him before he falls. Dipper fumbles for a moment before holding onto it tight. Even though the boat is about to capsize, Bill’s got him.

Bill brightens up and squeezes his hand back. Not hard, surprisingly, maybe a little teasingly, and it makes something flip around inside Dipper’s chest.

Bill hauls Dipper bodily up onto the dock, with surprising strength and a cackling laugh. Dipper feels a quick slap just above his hip as he briefly stumbles.

Crap, that was fast. He almost backpedaled into the canal again from sheer surprise - but his grip on Bill means he only lent back for a moment.

Bill, the asshole, thinks it was amazingly funny. He’s leaning forward, another sixty degree angle in the air.

Dipper flips him off, heart racing fast. He wonders how Bill managed - but, right. He’s a demon, of course. Physics don’t matter. Those weird, noodlelike arms defy them on the daily.

One of said arms prods Dipper in the stomach. “Man, kid, talk about clumsy!” Bill’s still chuckling. His surface flickers with amusement, eyelid raised in a smile. “I shoulda let you go for a dunk!” Then a thoughtful rub under the single, narrowed eye. “Though I do like you less dissolved. At the moment.”

Dipper narrows his eyes. His valiant attempt to crush Bill’s hand in his own fails at the complete lack of bones inside.

Bill’s insane and weird and clever. He’s the strangest being Dipper’s ever met - but whatever his motives are? It’s - so far - been fine.

Dipper’s not dunked. Or dissolved. Hell, if anything, he should always be more terrified. With what Bill does. With what Bill is.

Best of all, that wasn’t a handshake. Even though Bill’s still holding on, it’s not in the right position for one. Interlaced fingers don’t count, he’s sure.

Dipper struggles at the touch, and gets his hand back, eventually. He wipes it on his pants, trying to shake off the thought.

It definitely wasn’t a shake, because they didn’t make a deal. If they had, Bill would be gloating about it. Dipper can put that single heartstopping moment behind him.

He’s still thinking about it as Bill leads him through the city. The conversation is mostly Bill rambling, their usual light bickering.

Dipper may be wandering around a nightmare, but with his palm flat on the warm surface of Bill’s back, at least he knows nothing else is going to freak him out. Bill would get huffy about not being the center of attention.

“So whatd’ya think of the main dream? Took the blueprint off a guy with agoraphobia.” Bill tugs one one of the passing door handles - which doesn’t move. When Dipper looks closer, it’s literally painted on. “No indoors, anywhere!”

“It’s kind of…” Dipper thinks about it. Nearly silent streets, cold and misty. Even if Bill wasn’t here, it’d be… “Empty.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.”

“No, I mean,” Dipper scrunches his face up, trying to think of - he isn’t much for horror movies, but exposure to Bill has shown him enough. “There’s no ominous signs of who was here, either. Like, I’d think there would be… half-eaten meals on the cafe tables, or, like.” He snaps his fingers, trying to think of remnants - “A single, empty child’s shoe.”

"Oh, very nice! I like how you think, sapling.” Bill taps Dipper’s temple, twice, before patting his cheek. Dipper leans away before he can pinch it. “Even if it’s not your thing, you always got something going on in that bonebox, don’tcha?”

Dipper just shrugs. He can’t not think. A dream demon liking what he does think is… morally questionable.

And, maybe, kind of neat.

“We don’t see enough of each other these days. A few hours at a time is nothing.” Bill continues, waving over the scenery. “Not that I’m not a fan of you letting me whisk ya off in your dreams - but what about reality?”

“Nope.” Dipper drops his arm, folding both of them over his chest. “Not happening.”

Freeing Bill was…. Arguably morally gray. Dipper doesn’t regret it, but Bill is an asshole, and Ford was convincing. The main advantage of Bill’s freedom came with their deal, Bill was in a terrible position to bargain.

The second best part is not having Bill on Earth anymore. He’s still dangerous, but not immediately so.

To reality. No so much for people hanging out with him.

“C’mon, kid. We’d have way more time together when you aren’t conked out!” Bill sidles closer. One thin arm wraps a couple times around Dipper’s waist, while the other waves broadly over the scenery. “A full Europe trip, just for two.” A brief pause. “Not that you’d get this kinda quality in your mundane version of that continent, but whatever.”

“If you say so.” Dipper hedges, that sound extremely subjective. Bill blinks at him with genuine surprise; it makes Dipper fidget for a second “I haven’t been out of Gravity Falls in-” Hell. When was the last time he went back to Piedmont. Or anywhere else. “...It’s been a while.”

Bill takes another second to stare. Then sighs. His enormous eye rolls around and around in its socket, in yet another exaggeration.

“Well, think about it, kid. One of these days, we’ll get to it. Me and you, on Earth!” Bill prods him firmly in the chest, eyelid raised in a smile. “We could take a long stroll through the streets, check out a couple cafes, crush a couple local governments- Then teleport over to a boulangerie for pastries! It’d be a great time!”

Insisting on reality. Again. Dipper holds back a sigh.

Letting Bill into the world - even with the compromises Dipper managed, is a horrible idea.

But right now Bill’s off in his own little world - literally, in a way - and that concept isn’t one he’s going to accept. Not the tactic to take to argue against it.

“I guess it’s a nice thought. Or fantasy, anyway.” Dipper pats Bill twice on the edge. “You’d stand out a little too much.”

Even Dipper needed a couple weeks before he got used to Bill. He’s a giant demonic triangle made of maybe-gold. Bill Cipher, in reality, would send pretty much everyone screaming, or reeling in horrified awe.

Probably, Bill would love that. Right up until it meant no cafe service.

“Yeah, yeah, most humans have no taste. Doesn’t mean it’d ruin the occasion!” Bill wags a chiding finger. His arm slips from its loop around Dipper so he can rest a fist on his edge. “What’d’ya think shapeshifting’s for?”

“For wha-” Dipper starts - then jerking back, as Bill’s form changes.

Dipper turns his head away, shielding his eyes against the bright light. And grimacing.

This demonic drama queen. The light isn't typical for his changes, he’s doing it for show. Whatever Bill’s turning into, he hopes this shape won’t have too many limbs, or infinite teeth - or worse, pick him up again -

Trying to smack Bill is always an option, though. Especially when he’s trying to be dramatic. Dipper lands the punch easily, operating on muscle memory -

Into something warm. And firm - but much softer than gold.

Bill starts chuckling. There’s a slow, rhythmic motion under Dipper’s knuckles.

Already, it’s far from the worst Dipper’s had to deal with. Bill’s not on fire, or scaled, and there’s no huge tongues licking out between his tiers. He’s not even slimy this time, though certainly more…. organic.

Dipper opens his mouth to tell Bill off, blinking rapidly -

“So! What’d’ya think, sapling?” Bill’s grin is wide and white and close. Too close, his sudden surge in makes Dipper lean back on instinct. “Ya like the look?”

Dipper stares.

“Eh?” Bill prompts again. Now he’s wiggling his eyebrows.When he doesn’t get a response - he sticks out a tongue - a pink, human tongue, Dipper watches it flick back in. “Where’s the insult?”

Right. New shape. Bill… wants feedback, something to stroke his immense ego. Dipper should….

Say something. Probably.

He looks again at that face. A human face. Bill’s standing there, intimidating; he has eyebrows and a nose and white teeth in a wide smile on this - Dipper looks down, then slowly up again - human form, leaning over him.

“Um,” Dipper says, eloquently. He does another once over, lacking for words, until he meets that single golden eye. And swallows, once. “...Hi.”

“Not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Bill continues. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, smoothing back his hair - then digging a finger into his fleshy cheek, and twisting it. “I think it’s a pretty accurate translation!”

Dipper nods. He opens his hand by fractions, until his palm rests flat on Bill’s chest, then thinks better and grips the shirt instead.

Okay. This. Is a new one.

Bill’s face - he has a face - is all angles, with a pleased, smug, too-wide grin. He thankfully still has only one eye, otherwise Dipper wouldn’t know where to stare - and he's very much up in Dipper’s personal space. Warmth still radiates off him, just like before.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bill says dryly. He grasps Dipper's side, just near his hip. His hand is bigger now, and - and Dipper shakes his head to clear it. “So! You and me, strolling through the city-”

Bill rambles on, per usual. The familiarity is steadying. Dipper squinches his eyes shut - then blinks, but nope. The scenery hasn’t changed.

This is. Normal. For Bill. Because this is Bill, showing off again. They can move on.

Will move on, because Bill’s looking like he wants to continue their walk. Dipper should. Follow him. That’s the right thing to do.

The first step is turning away. Easily done, if he stops gripping Bill’s shirt so tight. Forcing himself to loosen his hold works - but now he’s touching Bill’s chest again, and that isn’t great. Though it’s very solid, like Bill - because it is Bill, in a different shape, he needs to remember that. The shirt is soft, though when he strokes it. Maybe silk? Dipper -

Should stop touching it, what the hell.

Bill keeps rambling, arm warm against Dipper’s back. Dipper nods out of habit, stepping forward as Bill leads them on through the city.

Dipper forces his arms to his sides, holding them rigidly in place. He’s keeping them to himself. Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice anything odd about that.

Not that anything is, but. It might make things weird if he did think that.

Which means Dipper can relax, if only a bit. Demonic self-absorption has some benefits after all.

This is only another strange shape Bill’s taken. He’s turned into way weirder ones, for way longer - and for dumber reasons. Whatever prank he’s pulling is - Anyway, it’s only lasted maybe two minutes, it won’t be much longer. If that’s even how long it’s been.

Come to think of it, how long has Dipper been asleep? Dream time and real time never entirely track, and from this perspective they’ve been hanging out for a few hours. Longer than their typical meetup, since either Bill has ‘business’, or Dipper wakes up. Usually the latter. Eight hours real time is more like two or three in the dream realm -

…Which might be why Bill complained about it.

Bill keeps commenting on the city. Gesturing around. Possibly describing how conquerable it is, as he guides Dipper along on the midnight nightmare stroll,

Dipper isn’t sure what, exactly, the current topic is. He isn’t paying much attention.

He rubs at his forehead. He doesn’t feel much more centered, even with Bill’s arm around his waist again. Still warm, and somehow more solid. Certainly broader.

It also pulls him in and around, until he’s confronted - again - with Bill. His golden eye alight, looking him over skeptically.

“What, is this boring you?”

“I- what? No.” Dipper says. He nearly touches that chest again, and then the arm - but the biceps aren't any better. Technically speaking. He clenches his hands into fists, holding them to his own chest. “...Okay, maybe a little.”

Compared to some random nightmare city, recent developments are much more distracting.

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” Bill tuts, pulling Dipper in until their sides squish together; Dipper still doesn’t know where to put his hands, he tucks them over his stomach. “See, this is why we gotta get more hangout time!”

Bill’s other arm waves over the dream, and a space in it parts, folding up the rest of the scenery. Like opening a curtain, the city is shoved away to two sides, pleating like in a skirt.

The space opens into a void full of not-quite-stars.

Dipper leans in closer, and feels Bill’s arm tighten.

There’s a myriad of images floating in blackness. Things floating through space that’s not space, with a huge pyramid, black and ominous, somewhere in the distance.

The real heart of the nightmare realm Bill comes from, he’s seen glimpses before -

The one Ford told him never, ever, ever to take a single step into.

“You have a point, sapling. And I’ve had it with the tours of these run-of-the mill mental meanderings.” Bill never stops talking. He’s almost proud of it. “Now that I’ve cleared the squatters out, you should come crash at my place!”

Dipper yelps as he’s hauled up - damn it, he should have expected that - and braces himself on Bill’s shoulders. He nearly falls, Bill’s grip shifting, until he clamps his legs around Bill tight.

Not that he would fall - Bill wouldn’t let him - and he’s always been inhumanly, unfairly strong. The arm under his butt and the hand on his back would stop Dipper from escaping, even if he wanted to drop to the cold cobblestone ground.

“Cut it out.” Dipper kicks out from sheer indignance, anyway. Damn it, he knew he should have seen this coming - and Bill nearly stumbles to keep him in place. “What are you playing at?”

He’s done with this prank. With having to look at that face, with its. Everything. With Bill hauling him around like he’s a pet, damn it, he made that clear long ago, when Bill was still imprisoned.

Now he wants to bring him to the center of a mess of insanity and nightmares, what the hell is with that.

Maybe Bill can actually drive people insane. Because part of Dipper - the part that keeps saying ‘okay’ to their meetups has already started a horrible, insidious whisper.

Telling him everything else has been okay. Wondering if it would really be that bad.

“You clearly don’t care for the the terror atmosphere, kid. I’m fine with ditching it for the moment.” Bill jostles him in place, grinning wider at Dipper’s glare. “I got options! We can set up something else.”

“Like what.” Dipper says, flat.

“Look. Bribing you, Pine Tree? It's hard,” Bill says, with some chagrin.. “I’ve already given you power - not that you’re using it - and you got the pleasure of my company. You’ve even got some of the secrets of the universe on hand, but you keep dodging chances to hang!” His eye narrows. “What’re you really into?”

“I-” Dipper hesitates. Without a retort prepared, he’s not sure what to say.

“Name it and I’m there, kid. You did me a major favor, we’ve been walking out for a while - and I’ve been nothing but a gentleman when it comes to us.” He puts a strange emphasis on the word, one eyebrow raised. “What’s not to like?”

A lot of things, honestly. None of which Dipper can say.

Demon, for one. Dangerous, definitely. Insane, absolutely - and through all of that. Dipper has kept meeting up with Bill, even though he could use any of the dozen wards Ford has tried to foist upon him.

Bill’s hand is stroking his back, there’s an arm underneath him and it’s weird and -

God, Dipper wishes Bill wasn’t still in this shape, it’s throwing him off. For a prank, it’s weirdly well constructed, there’s no uncanny valley. Now his mind is racing

Actually, didn’t Bill say it was a translation?

Like. If Bill was a human, this would be how he looked. Still all angles, in a way. Unnaturally strong, oddly fascinating, and with amusement evident in the sharpness of his smile.

“Good! You’re thinking about it. Lemme know what’s cooking in there.” Bill’s grin is white and wild, a dangerous shape on his face. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

A smile that, now that Dipper looks at it, isn’t all that sharp. If he tugs the corner of the lips with his thumb, Bill makes a face, sticking out his tongue -

With a start, Dipper realizes he’s been staring at Bill’s mouth.

Bill snickers, but doesn’t respond. A slow smile, with his single eye half-lidded, and close enough that Dipper can feel the breath on his face. Dipper’s heart is going triple-time, and Bill’s very very close.

At some point Dipper wet his lips, involuntarily. He watches as Bill’s eye glimmers, then slowly shuts.

And -

The blare of the alarm cuts through things like a knife.

Dipper sits bolt upright in bed. Heart pounding.

For a full ten seconds, he flails at the sheets blindly, surprised - until he remembers where he is, and lets his arms drop.

He stares around his room with out seeing it. Still bleary, blinking slow.

What…?

Dipper sits there for another long moment. The sun isn’t even up, why did he set his alarm so early. He knows why he did it but. Now it seems ridiculous.

He wanted to make it less than eight hours. To make it cut off before Bill was expecting it.

Before either of them expected it, this time.

“Shit,” Dipper says.

He fumbles around for the cup on the bedside table. His mouth is dry, and he needs something to center himself, but he only manages to knock it over.

The memory of the dream - a lucid, very real event - is stuck in the forefront of his brain. Dipper can’t shake it. All of the Bill-dreams have been vivid, but this one is even more so.

He almost -

Dipper rolls over, sheets tangling around his legs, with the memory searing bright in the forefront of his mind.

Even when he pulls the cool pillow against his face, it doesn't help it feel any less hot.

That thing keeps running through his head, no matter what he does. The memory's too vivid to be anything less than real. How close he was. The warmth. How Bills eye fluttered shut, along with the vivid picture of his mouth, lips slightly parted.

He's never - but then Bill was -

Dipper hugs the pillow tighter, letting it absorb him in its comforting softness. Even the tips of his ears must be red by now.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He should have listened to Ford. He should have taken those warnings to heart.

He’s heard so many of them.

Don’t talk to demons. Don’t get involved with their magic, don’t make any deals, don’t interact at all except to eliminate them.

And do not, under any circumstances, speak too long to Bill Cipher.

Ford's smart. He knows how to handle almost every situation, and he's cautious enough to come up with almost every eventuality.

Dipper never had a warning against wanting to kiss an evil triangle. He swears a little more into the pillow, tense and frustrated.

God, he's an idiot.

Bill’s weird. He’s insane. He’s all about every aspect of twisting a mind into absurd shapes - hell, he is a shape. Not a human. Not good.

And not into anyone, as far as Dipper can tell. On the very rare moments the topic has come up, Bill’s been disparaging at best - and even if he was, it would still be a terrible idea.

Dipper pulls the pillow tighter around him. He thunks his head-and-pillow combo against the mattress, embarrassment writhing in his chest.

He’s going to get up in a moment. First, to make some coffee - a lot of coffee -

And second, to come up with his own plan.

Bill knows about everything, or at least he claims to. He definitely likes it when people are crazy, but odds are? He won’t appreciate this kind of madness.

But with any luck - and some careful work, on Dipper’s part -

Bill Cipher will never, ever know about this.

#Me: Oh hey I could write a quick little short for this idea!!#Also me: *staring at nearly 6k* _ :(´ཀ`」 ∠):_#I invite you all to imagine the following with me #First that Dipper is going 'shit shit shit' for a long while about this revelation #He hasn't taken any of the hints for a variety of reasons. Partly self-esteem but also the triangle thing. And Bill's ALWAYS obscure #Never directly talking is 'fun' up until it isn't #And second that Bill has been going #Why'd he have to wake up JUST THEN?? Talk about crappy timing #Just a demon holding his (He thinks) soon-to-be lover. Five centimeters from a smooch #Then *pop*! He's left holding empty air #Augh!! The twenty-seventh date was going so well! Makeouts almost happened!! Oh well I'll get em soon enough #Man I am such a great boyfriend Bill says to himself very smugly #The upside of this AU of an AU is that they both had time to get Squishy Feelings about each other instead of starting off with hate #The downside in a way is that now Dipper unlike before has PLENTY of time to overthink the hell out of this #Good luck Bill you'll need it to get him into bed. Now that he's not in the moment enough to spring for an impulse driven by hate-lust #It's gonna be a while until these losers officially get together but hey that's technically the same #Just in one instance the sex came first and in this one the feelings did #Mind you any 'ily' is a long way off; they're still settling in at this point. Give em time #answers #When will my ability to write short things return from the war *wraps shawl around self and stares distantly at the wine-dark sea*#Gonna give a thumbs up to pchelaus for the kick that motivated me to finish this

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doctorbrown · 7 months

Text

DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 7 / 31 * FAMILY 」

December 31, 1999

23:46

❝Hey Doc, I just wanted to say thanks again for inviting us over. You know, the twins, they really look up to Jules and Verne❞—both Emmett and Marty glance over to the living room floor, where Verne is sprawled out on his chest besides two young, bright blue-eyed children, playing with souped up toy cars on a holographic course that Verne manipulates at will—❝and Jen really loves Clara and—❞

Ellie's car has just crashed into the wall of the bank and Verne makes dramatic explosion noises, earning a series of uncontrollable giggles from the three year old who leaves the car half-phased through the wall. Curie—the longhaired collie—perks her head up from where she was slumbering on the couch and immediately hops down, padding over to where Verne and the children are laying.

Verne sputters when Curie sits down on top of a section of his holographic city. Some of the buildings disappear in her thick fur, only for a few rooftops and spires to protrude from her back instead. She wags her tail and it's young Emmett's turn now to be delighted by the sight of the dog as she cleaves fake buildings in two with her tail.

Emmett silences Marty with a hand on his shoulder and a warm smile. ❝You're family, Marty. You, Jennifer, and young Ellie and Emmett. Besides, you only get to see something like this once! We're welcoming a brand new millennium and there's nobody in the universe I would rather usher it in with.❞

Despite the obvious lie coming from the father of time—the inventor of time travel; even Jules momentarily paused in his channel surfing to throw a look over his shoulder at his father—himself, Marty only raises a brow before breaking out into a wide grin. They could watch the clock tick down to the year two thousand as many times as they wanted from anywhere in the world with the time vehicles, but this was the real deal.

The first time. No universe ending paradoxes waiting to ruin the celebrations, no 'let's compare the various new years' traditions', no extenuating circumstances.

Just them, the people most important in their lives, and a countdown that, for once, designates unbridled hope. The future.

We've made it. And though the temptation is still there to check, to make sure Marty's future continues on the bright path it has been since he finally listened and avoided that devastating accident, Emmett has managed to restrain himself thusfar to allow everything to happen in real-time around him.

❝I almost can't believe it, you know?❞ Marty says, and Emmett nods once, slowly, unable to stop the memories from flooding back. ❝That we've actually made it, and—❞

❝Emmett, dear.❞ Clara's voice rings out from the adjoining kitchen, stopping Marty's thoughts in his tracks. ❝There's only seven minutes to the new year; can you go grab the bag that I left on the counter? The camera should be there too! Marty❞—Clara finally emerges from the kitchen with Jennifer in tow, who is balancing a very large sheet cake in her arms—❝be a dear and clear away the rest of the snacks from the table, would you?❞

Both men nod in acceptance of their respective duties and Emmett pecks Clara on the cheek as he disappears into the kitchen. The bag is exactly where she said it would be and curiosity eats away at him; his beloved wife had clearly planned something else for the evening without his knowledge and he considers peering in at risk of ruining the surprise she'd clearly put a lot of thought and effort into.

The new year will be here in—he checks the wall of clocks, ticking rhythmically in perfect synchronisation—five minutes. He can wait that long.

Everyone is gathered around the table, staring at the cake proudly displayed on the table, where a big blue '2000' is written on top, next to the words, Happy New Year! Jen and Clara are a few steps away from them, looking incredibly pleased with their work, and Clara's eyes light up as Emmett places the bag gently in her hand, then joins the others around the table to look at the cake.

In the background, some announcer's voice drones on about there being five minutes left until the new year while footage of the clock tower and a gaggle of people are projected on-screen.

Clara pulls a small golden hat out of the bag for herself with the year written on the front in sparkling silver font, then hands a matching one to Jen, who immediately puts it on. For most of the boys, Clara produces a garish pair of sunglasses from the bag shaped like '2000' in various colours.

Verne makes a face but slips them on anyway, and both Emmett and Marty hold them up to inspect them as if they're suddenly about to explode in their hands in a shower of sparks.

❝Mother,❞ Jules starts, ❝you really didn't have to do this...❞

❝I know we have the time machines, but it's not every day you live the course of your natural life through the turn of a brand new millennium, so I wanted to celebrate. You only have to wear them for the photo, Jules, and you can take them off if you want.❞

Verne grins and throws an arm around Jules' shoulders. ❝Yeah, come on. They might actually make you look better.❞

Emmett slips on his blue glasses with a shrug and then holds his arms out to Marty, as if to ask how do I look? Marty laughs and shakes his head but follows suit, and there's a comment somewhere about how cute they both look, but neither of them are sure if the comment came from Jen or Clara, so in the moment, they decide they said it in unison.

❝Verne, honey, put this on Curie, would you?❞ Clara hands him a colourful bandanna adorned with confetti spirals. ❝And everyone line up. I'll get some of the clocks in the picture so we have the time and—Emmett, you're sure this timer feature will work?❞

❝Positive, dear. I tested it myself.❞

There's less than a minute left on the countdown by the time Clara sets up the camera and hurries over for the photo, taking her place at Emmett's side.

The flash goes off at exactly midnight and as the two couples share a quick kiss, both Jules and Verne make obnoxious gagging noises while the McFly twins stare longingly at the cake on the table.

A chorus of happy new years ring out among the families and as Marty pulls Emmett in for a hug, ❝Happy New Year, Doc,❞ somebody announces that cake is being served.

Emmett pats him twice on the back, smiling. ❝Here's to the future. Now, let's get some of that cake, shall we?❞

#in my canon we have decided the kids get much better names and c'mon you can't tell me that after everything doc (and eventually clara)#do for/with jen and marty mcfly that they're not going to name the kids in honour and memory of them somehow #i still want them (the mcfly kids) to be roughly seventeen-eighteen in 2015 so this worked for me #also 'ellie' is a nickname for elizabeth they went with #i think about this a lot okay #the brown family and the mcfly family - the time family - together #spending holidays together #ringing in this huge milestone new year because *obviously* he's gotta spend it with his best friend in the entire space-time continuum #sometimes.....i can write cute things okay #i did originally consider making this prompt marty agonising over his memory/timeline discrepancies with doc & clara #but i figured - i could always drabble about this later #ON ANOTHER DAY WITH ANOTHER PROMPT #&; a great idea can change the world 「 hc 」#god these really do keep getting longer.#i hardly ever write the family so this was a neat change of pace #doctober 2023

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