#file under: wants: stan

[knotfodder]

name: Stanley Pines nicknames: Stan dob. age: June 15 (25-45) gender: Male pronouns: (he/him/his) secondary gender: Omega occupation: entrepreneur species: human (unless..?) younger fc: Tyler Hoechlin older fc: Jeffrey Dean Morgan

+resourceful, clever, street smart+ -greedy, self-serving, impulsive-

[the-way-astray]

holding out hope . . . don’t act like it’s set in stone . . . it’s not . . . yet . . .

(much ranting in the tags)

[kerink]

one of the things i like best about theraprism era billford is that ford is trying to have his cake and eat it too. he still wants a relationship with bill because bill is good* for him but he knows bill has to die because bill is bad for everyone else.

but with bill in the theraprism? ford can go visit him when he wants to (much like bill would only visit ford when he wanted to in the 80s), but when it's time to go ford can feel comfortable and confident letting bill out of his sight because he's locked up, under 24/7 surveillance, with dampened powers.

ford gets to have all the good parts of bill without having to deal with or worry about any of the bad parts. they can continue to have their mind games and codependency without ford having to worry about bill hurting him or anybody else.

it makes me think about the stan twins codependency post and how op pointed out that stan and ford sailing off is them returning to status quo, that ford is a black and white person and struggles to have things as less than all or nothing. much like some shape we know. that's what theraprism era billford is to me, them returning to status quo, but with the sharp edges filed off.

at least, for now. i can definitely see a scenario where ford visits bill every week, maybe a few times a week, and they sit and chat and joke and bullshit around, and ford thinks this is the ideal. he would have preferred to have had a life with bill, but he knows now how dangerous bill really is. this is the only way he can still have him in his life. but what ford doesn't realize is he's fanning the flames of his own destruction, reinforcing bill's belief that ford will one day forgive him, will one day return to him, will one day side with him. every conversation is motivation for bill's eventual escape, and if ford doesn't willingly run off with him bill will be happy to kidnap him again, because well. he got over the last one he'll get over this one.

* teeters hand

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

More Relativity Falls screenshot redraws!! this time there's a timelapse of one of them, at the bottom (featuring my awful thumbnail skills)

once again i am putting all my commentary on them, they're in the order i drew them in

"Ford, what is the ONE THING I told you not to do tonight??"

I like this one a lot, even though proportions were quite the struggle, not to mention the background ;-; but look at smol Stan in his party outfit!! Based on the one Grunkle Stan wore in Double Dipper

This is the one with the timelapse! I had started to record one for the first one while i was making it, but then ended up getting anxious about my every move being recorded. For this one i reminded myself that if it fails i can jsut delete the file, and that worked :P

i wanted to make the living room look more like Mabel's, so I added stars to the lamp, changed the chair color, and put a cup of Mabel Juice in the background :>

Society of the Blind Eye moment!! i love how they look here, theyre just peeking in :)

original images and the timelapse under cut

[sapphosscribe]

How awkward is it gonna be when Stan gets home after all that happened LMAO like im imaging it being like

Mable: "omg how did it gooo!!!!?"

Stan: "it went- it went well id say"

Mable: "what happened??"

Stan: "ill te you when you get older" LOL

Just for you, a little behind the scenes interaction ☺️:

Stan left out in the early hours when the sun was just beginning to lighten the horizon.

Fiddleford had tried to convince him to stay for breakfast, but Stan had gently declined the invitation, not wanting a run in with Tate.

“Besides, I got my own breakfast duties. Dipper and Mabel would starve if it was up to Ford to feed ‘em. I gotta get back.” Fiddleford had eyed him wistfully, ghosting a hand down his arm.

“I sure know enough not to get between you and those young’uns. Maybe I can cook up something for you one day.” Stan felt himself getting all sappy with the way Fiddleford was gazing at him and looked away.

“If you want. I wouldn’t mind it,” he replied. Fiddleford hummed.

“I’d love to,” he said reaching up to peck a kiss on his cheek, “you drive safe now.”

Stan caught him before he could pull away, giving Fidds a proper goodbye kiss that he sighed into. Stan wanted to deepen it, to crawl right back into bed, but he forced himself to pull away, watching a hundred watt grin spread across Fidds’ face.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, looking back at him even as he descended the steps. The soft muss of Fidds’ hair and the even softer look in his eyes as he pressed his hand to his mouth made Stan’s heart do somersaults in his chest.

“Or you call me! Whenever you want! Honest! I’m not-! Shit!” Stan stumbled as he rammed into the side his car, having not paid enough attention to where he was going. Fiddleford barked out a laugh, watching him, and Stan flushed under his gaze.

“Anyway, uh, good night. Good morning!” He corrected, climbing into his car and starting it up.

The drive across town had only taken about twenty minutes, but Stan let the windows down on the way the brisk morning air of the forest filling his senses as he sung along to whatever was on the radio and drummed his fingers on the wheel. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop smiling.

The Mystery Shack at this time of the day was quiet and peaceful before crowds of tourists started filing in and the entire thing filled up with the noise and laughter of the twins and Ford, Soos and Melody giving tours, and Wendy playing her music over the speakers. His family. Stan chuckled to himself, parking the Diablo and humming Bruce Springsteen as he jogged up the porch steps. He was a little sore from last night, but even the ache in his back was welcome as he carefully opened the door and eased it shut behind him.

He wanted to clean up before Ford or the twins saw him. It wasn’t like he was debauched or anything, but he’d rather not get any curious stares or questions.

He turned around, ready to tiptoe down the hall to his room, when a sharp mechanical whine sounded from behind him that made him wince.

Shit. He should have known.

“Stanley?” His brother asked. He looked over his shoulder to find Ford with his energy weapon primed and leveled at his back, though the barrel was tipped down to the floor now.

“Yep. That’s me,” he said, a disgruntled look overtaking his twins face.

“What in the name of Sagan are you doing sneaking around? I thought you were some ill-intentioned intruder!”

“Shh! Keep it down, would ya?” Stan hissed, flagging his hands for quiet, “why the hell are you up so early?”

The question seemed to make his twin bristle, eyes darting away.

“Well… I could ask you the same question! It’s highly irregular for you to be awake before six! Much less dressed like-. Hang on,” Ford said, stopping his spiel to step closer even as Stan took a step back. He narrowed his eyes, inspecting his clothes.

“You wore this last night,” he said, giving him a confused look as Stan stared somewhere over his shoulder and fought down a blush, “it’s impractical as loungewear. Why do you have it on?”

“It was the only thing I had unless you wanted me driving home across town naked,” Stan snapped, embarrassed and irritated. Ford still seemed baffled.

“Driving home? Where were…?”

Stan sees the moment Ford figures it out, eyes widening and mouth forming a small ‘o’ as his face turns pink, then red in quick succession.

“O-oh!”

“Yeah,” Stan replied flatly, looking anywhere but at his twin. Ford stood rooted to the spot.

“So… um. The date was a success, then?” His brother asked stiltedly.

“Uh huh.”

“And did you two… have a good time?” He asked, fiddling with his hands before tucking them behind his back. Stan frowned, watching him.

Clearly, his brother was trying to express his support and interest with these platitudes and Stan appreciated the gesture, really, but all he wanted at the moment was a hot shower and some clothes that didn’t still have Fiddleford’s scent clinging to them.

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now, so I’m gonna go,” he said bluntly, watching relief flood Ford’s face. His twin nodded vigorously.

“Yes. Of course. Right. Good morning,” he said as Stan turned and retreated into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him and locking it.

Somewhere in his pocket, his phone vibrated and Stan fished it out to find a message waiting for him

Fiddleford, 5:23 am

I had fun last night. Can’t wait for the next time. 😘

And, once again, Stan found himself grinning like an idiot.

Live footage of Stan after receiving that text:

[emmabirb8]

My first official venture into a super rare pair, EmmaStan, aka Emma-May Dixon and Stanley Pines!! @cosmo-shell and @slug-ball opened my eyes to the concept of these two, and WHOA the potential really stole my heart. It's absolutely not what they're serving out front, lmao, but the ship has bewitched me body and soul nonetheless. I just fell in love with the idea of these two tortured souls finding comfort in each other during the most difficult periods of their lives. They've been through HELL and deserve nice things. 😊💖 (And Emma-May in particular deserves WAY more love and attention in this fandom!)

My personal interpretation of Emma-May was mainly inspired by this piece by @birdskullz and this piece by @cosmo-shell.

Check out my AU fic for them here if you want! I haven't attempted a multi-chaptered fic in a VERY long time, lol, so hopefully this one will pan out well. First two chapters are up, but I've got more drafted out that will be posted very soon!

Writing out some key HCs about Emma-May and a rough timeline of events I constructed for my AU fic under the cut here:

Emma-May's family moved from Kansas to Tennessee when she was less than a year old, so she was raised in TN

Her mother is black while her father is white, and she has two older sisters

She became friends with Fiddleford and his siblings sometime during childhood

She attended college in New Jersey (went to a school I made up called “Gertrude University,” sort of a ref to the real university of Rutgers), majoring in botany, while Fidds ofc went to Backupsmore somewhere in the midwest 

Met Stan by chance once as a college student about a year after he was kicked out of his house and was still struggling with treasure hunting (probably around 1970 or 1971)

Married Fidds anywhere from 1973-1975 when they were in their 20s – felt pressured from family and society to get married, but they were best friends and did love each other (but the marriage was covertly strained from the beginning bc neither could get what they truly needed from each other – best friends don't necessarily work as a married couple even if some level of attraction is there along with the love)

Had Tate in the early-mid 70s, both love him to pieces and Fidds was a very devoted father up until he started unraveling 

Fidds left his family around the very late 70s to early 80s to work with Ford

Fidds abandoned the portal project in the early 80s, at that point already having started his descent into madness due to his reliance on the memory gun

Emma-May filed for divorce after becoming fed up with his bizarre behavior, lack of calls home, and a big fight they had around Christmas of the early 80s

The “homicidal pterodactyl-tron” attack happened during springtime after that Christmas, and this solidified Emma-May's decision to take Tate someplace safe (to stay with her aunt who lives in another state) while she set off to Gravity Falls herself to try to track Fiddleford down and figure out wtf happened to make him so different and dangerous 

At some point either right before or after the pterodactyl attack, Fidds created the Society of the Blind Eye and subsequently lost what remained of his mind and memories

Emma-May bumped into Stan, once again by chance, the night before he arrived in Gravity Falls upon Ford's request

[alottodix]

Dix didn’t die. Dix is sitting her final exams. Dix needs help. Thus, enjoy my disgusting South Park essay headcanons while I procrastinate attacking my Rome textbook like a loser:

Kyle and Cartman are absolutely the kind of assholes to walk out of an essay-based exam, be silent for like twenty-seconds, and then delve into the most insane argument about the right conclusion to have drawn every single time. They do not give a shit about volume. Is Tweek having a panic attack about failing? Yes. Does that stop them essentially terrifying everybody with what should have been written? No.

Kenny and Stan walk behind them listening to their screamed points about historical debate, sinking deeper into the despair that they both have absolutely just failed. In reality, Kenny passes with flying colours. He’s what every examiner wants in an essay kid. Solid delivery, straight to the point, blunt finish that screams “fuck you. I should be doing STEM.”

Meanwhile Stan is the kid to write an essay, turn it into a vent half-way through, and then end with an oddly poetic conclusion that will make whoever is marking these exams either sigh in despair or pray this kid gets into songwriting. Thus, he still passes based off delivery alone in subjects relying on interpretation. If he needs to debate a point based on, well, fact… at least he can write something, but it will not be good. He’s the guy to write broadly about a topic in a way that becomes weirdly philosophical in his attempts to mask what he doesn’t know with abstract terms. Still, depending on whoever is giving him a grade, he might get away with it.

NOW, DEBATE LORDS:

Kyle is a beast. Cartman is a beast of a different kind. While Kyle gets top marks for his rigorous performance and his ability to bait the reader with emotional stakes hinging on moral beats that make you terrified to disagree with him, Cartman is writing speeches — rather than essays — stuffed so full of rhetoric it becomes terrifyingly obvious this is the same kid that inspired genocide at 9-years-old.

One time, Kenny and Cartman are walking to sit an exam. Kenny isn’t confident. He hasn’t studied. He knows fuck all beyond how fun it is to draw moustaches on scary men in history textbooks. Cartman nudges him in the rib.

“Collective pronouns.”

Kenny frowns. Cartman repeats himself. It doesn’t help.

“What?”

Cartman turns to face Kenny with all the seriousness of an 18-year-old military commander. “From the moment you step into that exam, you and this examiner are on the same team. Use we. Never I. We.”

“But—”

“We don’t want you to fail, do we?”

Kenny freezes. “I guess not.”

“Then I wanna see a goddamn communist manifesto.”

Weirdly, when he went on to list extra techniques, his advice worked. Kenny passed with a B.

If Kyle had been the one there, however, Kenny would have received a completely different set of instructions.

A crash course in how to write an evaluative introduction, the correct way to thematically code an argument, subtle ways to mask lack of knowledge by swapping clauses in a sentence. All the juicy shit that goes beyond Cartman’s typical “bully until the examiner is embarrassed to dare be on the opposing team” approach. Shit that reminds you Kyle isn’t just studious. No. He’s something worse.

Kyle was raised by a lawyer.

And a lady who declared war on Canada once. He is undefeated in the art of debate and dealing with a chronic need for perfection under pressure.

Equally, Cartman is freakishly good at humanities. Not perfect, but strong enough to reach convincing conclusions. Why?

Cartman is a boy fluent in conflict. Studying wars, he doesn’t take notes for exams but for strategies to admire later. Propaganda, persuasion, leadership — it’s fucking awesome. He remembers minute details about characters, politicians, commanders, playwrights, all as if he’s known them his entire life, subconsciously building up a case-file on each to blackmail them and smear their legacies for a grade. Paragraphs are no longer complex academic debates. They’re narrative devices.

In conclusion, here is how the four would phrase an identical point in an essay, you can guess who is who:

1. “Dix should not be making headcanons. She has an exam to study for. This is bad because she needs good grades. For example, A. Alternatively, A. Therefore, she must return to the desk.”

2. “What is a desk if not a place to sit? This is what Dix asks herself, procrastinating while trapped in the motionless discord of productivity. In fact, what even is productivity? It can be argued that productivity is just a scam. Dix does not want to be scammed because she needs good grades. What are grades? Therefore, while desks are indeed places — no different to a street or a bed, if not more important — desks are scary. Dix is scared like a lion watching those movies where lions poke their heads through the screen and roar to set tone. In conclusion, to be scared is to be human. To be human is to be scared. In fact, Thomas Hardy maintains the belief that humans are scared, too. Fear is a concept about feelings. Feelings are felt. So, WW1 did indeed end in a stalemate between North and South Korea in the 70s. 60s? 1962.”

3. “In conclusion, let’s not waste time entertaining the illusion that rest is inherently productive. That’s a bedtime story for people who want gold stars for doing nothing. If rest were truly productive, coma patients would wake up with PhDs and six-packs. They do not. They wake up confused and unemployed. Thus, it is clear to us that Dix should study. If she does not, she will fail. This has been proven to us before. To ignore this fact is a simple breach in logic.”

4. “There is an abundance of reasons to study. This will help boost grades essential for university. For example, short-term memory is typically decisive in these contexts, requiring a return to books. Furthermore, it is common for stress to weaken ability under pressure and increase the need to maintain a firm grip on the information to combat that. Moreover, these exams are fucking obese. Stuffed full of information to memorise. Thus, it is clear that Dix should study. However, rest is equally necessary to maintain a will to live. This will increase the effectiveness of any work performed in aiding memory. Although this has been a long rest now. She may even fail her exams. What is the point.”

And they all lived happily ever after.

The end.

[cityof2morrow]

Space-O-Rama Build 001

Published: 7-19-2024 | Updated: 7-20-2024 SUMMARY “With intricate geometric patterns, delicate parabolas, and inverted inversion, Space-O-Rama glass sets a new standard that’s out of this world!” An odd mixture of low-to-mid poly items for retro-futuristic builds, inspired by the Space-o-Rama glass fences (Pets EP). There are 41 objects and a host of recolors using texture resources from PineappleForest (2022) actions from CuriousB (2010), Pixelhate, and Klevestav (2015; 2013). Many of the recolors have a weathered/distressed look.

DETAILS Requires Uni, Nightlife, and Apartment Life Eps. §100-500 | Build and Buy Files with “MESH” in their name are required. You also need the BBNiche1Master (BuggyBooz, 2012),  Elemental TXTR Repository, and he Graphic Glass TXTR Repository from the Repository Pack (Simmons, 2023). Additional repo pack recolors can be found on this site under these tags - #co2recolors, #ts2recolors, #ts2repo #co2repo #co2repopack. ITMES 3 Fences (~1622 poly) 5 Divider Screens (1025-1528 poly) 8 Window Boxes (Columns) (576 poly) 4 Doorframes (Deco) (92-1353 poly) 2 Door Rugs (Columns) (34 poly) –for doors 003 and 004 7 Planters (546-1092 poly) 4 Wall Accents (Columns) (8-12 poly) (3) Neon Panels A-C (1080-1521 poly) – sharp corners and some overlap (shadows look better than when the mesh is completely smooth); small gap on the side ; requires the Nightlife EP. 3 Bunker Walls (22-24 poly) – some overlap 3 Garden Panels (99 poly) *You’ll need “moveobjects on” and “grid on/off” cheats since not all parts align perfectly. DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA

7-20-2024 UPDATE : Added alternative versions of Doors 3 and 4. The texture on the top interior was distorted when the poly count (“faces”) got reduced. I recolored that part separately in black. If you want the alternative versions, manually delete old files (they are “..doorframe3-MESH” and “…doorframe4-REPO”) and replace them with these new files (“…alt2”). DOWNLOAD (choose one) ALTERNATE DOOR 3 & 4  from SFS | from MEGA CREDITS Thanks: Simmers with meshing, cloning, and fencing tutorials. Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Sci-fi House (AiKu via Creative Commons Attribution, 2018), Space-o-Rama Divider (EA/Maxis), 4t2 Eco Living Door (Ethan, 2020), Streets of Utopia (Stonemason, 2024), SciFi Panels (Unity Fan via CCA, 2023), Scifi Gate (Stan via CCA, 2023), Bomb Rush Cyberfunk Street [fan art] (Max Staples via CCA, 2023), Modular Bunker (mats de Wind via CCA, 2020), modular Walls (detona via CCA, 2018).

[gravityfallsreaderinsert]

Mr. and Mx. Mystery

S1E1 - Tourist Trapped

MasterList

The sun was shining in the clear blue sky as a family were having a fun day outside.

‘Ah, summer break-‘ Hank was grilling burgers for his family and his two kids Shmipper and Smabble were laughing and chasing one another, while the rest of the family sat at a picnic table. "You want cheese on that, hon?" Hank asked his wife, flipping a burger. "Sure, Hank."

‘A time for leisure, recreation, and takin' 'er easy... Unless you're me.’ 

A golf cart crashes through the "Welcome to Gravity Falls" sign with Dipper and Mabel screaming as they drove thorugh the woods. The ground shakes as something large makes it way pass trees, knocking them down. Mabel looks back toward the forest, "Aaaah!!! It's getting closer!" A giant hand tries to reach for the cart but missies as the cart files off a rock and lands as the kids swerve.

‘My name is Dipper. The girl about to puke is my sister Mabel. You may be wondering what we're doing in a golf cart fleeing from a creature of unimaginable horror.’

 "Look out!" Mabel screamed as Dipper turns the wheel to the left hard, almost knocking the cart over, leaving both them screaming.

'Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation.'

'Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air.' Mabel gets their pet cat taken out of her hands while a video game console gets taken out of her brothers. In replace they were both given packed bags and sunscreen on their noses.

“They shipped us up north to a sleepy town called Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay at our great-uncle and auncle's place in the woods.”

Mabel begun to put up all kinds of boy band and cute posters on her side of the room. "This attic is amazing! Check out all my splinters!" Mabel holds out her hand which is covered in, all places that shouldn’t be, with splinters. Dipper walks backwards toward his bed as he gets a good look at the room they’ll staying in for the whole summer. As he does he gets jump scared by Gompers who's standing behind him, "Baaa!”

“And there's a goat on my bed."

Mabel walks over to them has she holds out her hand trying to be friendly toward the goat but he ended up chewing on her sweater sleeve, "Hey, friend. Oh! Yes, you can keep chewing on my sweater. Ha ha ha ha ha!"

'My sister tended to look on the bright side of things.'

"Yay! Grass," Mabel exclaimed as she rolled down the small hill, having the "time of her life".

A woodpecker starts to peck the top of Dipper's hat. Y/N makes a gently shooing motion to make the bird fly away without looking from their book.

‘But I was having a hard time getting used to our new surroundings, our great-auncle, (Y/N), was trying to make things better by trying to bond with us and to get me to see the brighter side of things.’ 

Dipper and Y/N were sitting under a tree together, Dipper writing in a journal and Y/N reading. Y/N lightly slapped the insides of the book with the back of their fingers.

"Ok, now I think you might enjoy this book, sweet pea.” Next thing Dipper knew, his great-uncle jumped behind the tree he and his auncle were sitting under on wearing a mask, "Boo!"

Both Dipper and Y/N scream at the top of their lungs, dropping the books in their hands as Dipper falls over.

"Aha ha ha ha!" Stan laugh as he takes the mask off.

 'And then was our great-uncle Stan.' Stan slaps his knee has he takes the mask off of his head.

'That guy.'

"Aha ha ha ha, ow!" Stan started hitting his chest from laughing so hard, then he doubled over in pain as his partner punched him in the stomach.

"Stop doing that!" Y/n picked Dipper up, fixing his hat and made sure he was ok.

"It was worth it."

'Our uncle and auncle had transformed their house into a tourist trap they called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery was why anyone came.'

A coward follows the Pines couple through out the museum, their arms linked together as Stan points to attractions with his 8-ball cane, "Ladies and gentlemen, behold! The Sascrotch!"

‘And guess who had to work there.’

“Oh," Mabel reaches to touch a giant eyeball, when Stan comes over to smack her hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!"

'It looked like it was gonna be the same boring routine all summer, until one fateful day...'

Dipper was wiping down some merchandise sweeping while his Graunkle was sweeping. His sister, Mabel, was too busy stalking her latest boy target behind selves of Stan and Y/N bobble head figures.

"He's looking at it. He's looking at it!"

The boy opened the note reading it out loud, "Uh...'Do you like me? Yes. Definitely. Absolutely?'” He started looking around, trying to find the source of where the note could have come from.

"I rigged it!" She uttered excitedly has she placed her hands on her cheeks.

Dipper stopped cleaning and rolled his eyes, “Mabel, I know you're going through your whole "boy crazy" phase, but I think you're kind of overdoing it with the "crazy" part."

Mabel turned towards her brother with a disbelieve look on her face and blows a raspberry, "What?! Come on, Dipper! This is our first summer away from home. It's my big chance to have an epic summer romance."

"I agree with Dipper on his, Hon, don’t you think you're moving too fast?" (Y/N) asked, "I mean...how many boy does make now?”

"I bet she doesn't even know, she flirts with every guy she meets!" Dipper said, shrugging.

Mabel is standing next to a boy in the mystery shack, fluttering her eyes, "My name is Mabel, but you can call me the girl of your dreams. I'm joking! Ha ha ha ha!" She exclaims pushing the boy into the greeting cards display knocking him and the stand over.

Mabel then pops up from behind a bench, that has a guy sitting with his turtle in his hands, "Oh, my gosh, you like turtles? I like turtles too. What is happening here?"

Inside the mattress store, a boy dressed as the mattress king is working, "Come one, come all, to the mattress prince's kingdom of savings!"

Mabel pops out from behind a set of colorful balloons and she whispers, Take me with you..." Causing the boy to run away screaming.

"Mock all you want, brother and Graunkle, but I got a good feeling about this summer. I wouldn't be surprised if the man of my dreams walked through that door right now." Mabel said confidently has she pointed toward the mystery shack exhibit door.

Stan walks through the door holding signs under his arm and a pitt cola in his hand. Using his other, he clutched his stomach as a burp gets caught in his throat, "Oh! Oh. Not good. Ow." 

Mabel looks at Stan in disgust, "Oh, why?!"

Dipper and Y/N laughed, high fiving each other as they do.

"All right, look alive, people. I need someone to go hammer up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Stan said as he holds out the signs toward Y/N and the twins.

"Not it!" Dipper and Mabel say at the same time, behind them Soos raised his hand while he drilled a shelf with his other.

"Uh, also not it."

"Nobody asked you, Soos."

"I know, and I'm comfortable with that." He pulled out a chocolate bar and took a bite out of it.

Y/N can see Stan giving them a side eyed look, “No, Stan. I’m not doing the job that I told you to do!”

Stan rolls his eyes as he sighed in annoyance, he then turns towards the teenage red head, who’s relaxing on the job with her feet on the counter, reading a magazine. "Wendy! I need you to put up this sign!"

Wendy tries to reach for the signs from where she's sitting, with a bored expression on her face not looking up from her magazine, "I would, but I, ugh, can't, ugh, reach it, ugh..."

"I'd fire all of you if I could. All right, let's make it eeny-meeny-miney..." Stan then points his finger at Dipper, "You."

"Aw, what? Grunkle Stan, whenever I'm in those woods, I feel like I'm being watched."

"Ahh, this again." Stand begins to rub the corners of his eyes as Y/N gave him a light hit on his shoulder.

"I'm telling you, something weird is going on in this town. Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out "BEWARE." Stan and Y/N leaned in closer to Dipper’s arm, both squinting their eyes. After looking at it for a couple of seconds Stan leaned back up, looking at Dipper, confused.

"That says 'bewarb.’” As he said this, Y/N gently grabbed Dipper’s arm and examined the bites. “Do you believe me, Graunkle Y/N?” Y/N shook their head, letting go of his arm.

”Oh, Sorry. I was just seeing if that needed to have cream put in it. It’s looks bad, Sweet pea.” Dipper then lowers his arm in embarrassment and rubs the bites.

“Anyway, look, kid.” Stan voices, “The whole "monsters in the forest" thing is just local legend drummed up by guys like us to sell merch to guys like that," Stan pointed to a man sweating like there was no tomorrow laughing at a bobble head Stan doll in his hands. "So, quit being so paranoid!" He then threw the signs into Dipper's arms. Fumbling with them, Dipper looked up at his uncle in annoyance.

Watching Stan leave through employees only door, Y/N sighed. Crouching down to meet Dipper’s height, Y/N placed a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. Dipper didn't make eye-contact with them.

”Hey, don’t let Stan get under your skin, alright? If you say there’s something going on, maybe, you could look for evidence to rub in his mean face."

Dipper sighed and nodded his head, "Yeah...Yeah! Grunkle Stan might not know it but this town had some weird stuff going on and I'm gonna prove it!" Dipper grips the signs tighter has he marches out of the shack toward the woods. Y/N stood back up, cracking their back, "Oof! Stupid old body." Taking a look around they noticed that Mabel was no where to be found, signing again they crossed their arms over their chest and walking through the employee only door. In there, they found Stan in the kitchen finishing his Pitt soda.

"He's gonna found out about this place eventually, you do know that right?" Stan groaned, taking a long drink from the can. He waved his finger in 'no' motion, bringing the can down from his mouth. "You don't think I know that, toots? Boy seems too smart for his age," he leans on the kitchen table muttering the last part of his sentence under his breathe. "Almost like someone else we know."

Y/N slowing walked over to the table and leaned on it next to Stan, rubbing his back. "I know, that's why I think we should be honest with them. To protect them from all this crazy stuff this place has going on. If we keep lying-" Stan cuts Y/N off.

"If we keep lying, we can keep them away from it." Stan gets up and walks out the kitchen to go upstairs, you turn your gaze to your feet. Thinking about how you could tell the kids about everything in this town, but a part of you didn't. It felt too soon, so you decided to wait until maybe they trusted you and Stan a little more. You groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes. Opening the freezer, you grabbed a popsicle walking out of the kitchen to sit on the couch outside.

Some time passed, but you don’t know how long as you were sitting there lost in thought, until the front door slammed next to you. It was Mabel and she looks excited as ever.

“Hey Graunkle! I’m going to see if I can find Dipper, ok bye!" Mabel screamed as she started running toward the woods, you didn't even get a chance to understand what she was saying. And you didn’t have to think about it because pulling up to the front of the shack was a tour bus, you stood up, crushing the stick of the popsicle in your mouth.

After Y/N and Stan finished the tour, you two went upstairs. You rubbed the back of your neck, "Hey, you're not like mad about earlier, right?" Stan chuckled under his breath, turning to face you.

"Why would I be mad at ya? You just care for those rascals." You smiled, you both turned toward the stairs having heard the twins return. You walked over to Stan as you wrapped an arm around his waist and he wrapped his around your shoulder, hip to hip. “Now, let’s go see what those two are up too.”

You gave him a hard kiss on his cheek, giggling. Stan laughed, “Ugh, gross.” You both walked done the stairs laughing. As you got closer, you could hear the twins talking about something. Then you see Mabel rush to the door as you and Stan stood at the door way of the living room.

”What you readin' there, slick?”

Dipper quickly hides the journal under the cushion he was sitting under and grabs the nearest thing he can find. ”Oh! I was just catchin' up on, uh… gold chains for old men magazine?”

“Dipper don't read that, it'll rotten you.” Stan playfully pushed Y/N, laughing. They both walked over to stand behind the love sofa. “What?! That’s a good issue and you like my gold chains!”

You wagged your finger at him, smirking, ”I don’t know who told you that lie.” Just as you said that Mabel came back but she was with someone. He was taller than her, wearing a back hoodie and his back was facing the room.

”Hey, family! Say hello to my new boyfriend!” Mabel presented him as he turned around. His hair was covering one of his eyes and he had some red substance dripping from his cheek. He waved his hand halfway up in a greeting. ”Sup?”

”Hey…” Dipper greeted him first then Stan and you both at the same time.

”How's it hangin'.” Stan threw up finger guns.

“Hello.” You lazily waved at him.

“We met at the cemetery. He's really deep.” She then placed an hand on his arm, squeezing it a bit. “Ooh! Little muscle there. That’s… what a surprise.” Dipper raised his eyebrows, examining this new guy his sister brought in, ”So, what's your name?”

Almost as if pains him to speak he answers the question, ”Uh Normal Man!”

“He means "Norman.” As Mabel corrects him, Y/N noticed the red substance on his check dripping to the floor.

“Are you bleeding, Norman? We could patch that cut up for you?” 

Norman’s eyes widened as he looks at the liquid on his face. ”It's jam.”

Mabel gasped has she lightly shoved him. “Oh! I love jam! Look at this!” She exclaimed moved her hands back and forth between them. Norman shrugged as he looked around, ”So, you wanna go hold hands or whatever?”

”Oh! Oh, my goodness. Don't wait up!” Mabel giggled, bouncing up and down. She then runs towards the door Norman shoot finger guns at the others in the room and followed Mabel, hitting the doorframe and other walls in the process.

Y/N looked around the room at the others, "Well, he was weird. Right?" You saw Dipper nodding his head slowly, gaze focused on where Norman stood.

"Yeah," Stan began, he than clapped his hands and started making his was to the gift shop, "Come on, angel cakes, we got a shack to run!" Y/N ruffled Dipper's hair through his hat and started making their way towards the door, before they opened it they turned to look at Dipper.

"Hey bud, you alright?" They didn't get an answer cause he was already making his way up the stairs. Y/N signed, made sure they looked presentable, fixing their suit and little butterfly pin, and went through the door.

~ TIME SKIP ~

Y/N was stocking inventory as Stan handled the last group of tourists, you hummed thinking to yourself on where the twins could be. Finishing up your task you walked over to where Stan was with the guest.

Stan holds up a swirly pattern on a stick, pulls the string and rotates into a continuous spiral, "Behold! The world's most distracting object!"

The group of tourist was amazed at the simple object, Y/N rolled their eyes at the crowd. Looking passed the all to look through the window seeing the twins and some kind of giant monster. You stood there, mouth agape, your gaze not leaving the the window. Y/N reached out to tap on Stan's shoulder.

"Just try to look away you can't! I can't even remember what I was talkin' about." You groaned and ran outside, seeing the kids about to get hit by a giant fist. You ran towards them and grabbed them. Resulting in you all rolling until you hit the wall of the shack. The twins landed safely but you rolled until you hit the wall with your back, knocking the air our of your lungs.

Dipper was able process what happened to them quickly, he shuffled over to Y/N. Shaking their shoulder, "Graunkle!? Are you ok?" Before you could catch your breath and answer, the monster, which you now see is made of tiny men, gets closer.

"It's the end of the line, kids and weird person that came out of nowhere. Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy!" The one sitting all the way at the top spoke out. The twins each take a side by you, Dipper holding your shoulder and Mabel holing your hand. Dipper turned his hard to look at his sister, "There's gotta be a way out of this!"

Mabel looked from you to her brother with a worried expression. She them closed her eyes and, sighed through her nose. Letting go of Y/N's hand, she stood up and walked towards the gnomes. "I gotta do it."

Dipper's eyes widen, he stood and walked over to his sister, "What?! Mabel, don't do this! Are you crazy?"

Mabel looks back with a determined look on her face, "Trust me." Dipper shook his head and threw his arms up.

"What?!"

"Dipper, just this once Trust me."

You grabbed Dipper by his shoulder, making him turn towards you, "Dipper, I don't know what the hell is going on, but your sister seems like she knows what to do..." Dipper looked back and forth between you, his sister and the pile of gnomes. Walking backward toward the wall, he nodded.

"All right, Jeff, I'll marry you."

"Hot dog! Help me down there, Jason!" Jeff starts to climb down using the other gnomes as a ladder. "Thanks. Andy, left foot, there we go, watch those fingers, Mike." When he makes it to stand in front of Mabel, he pulls out a diamond ring from his back pocket. "Ehh? Ehh?" Mabel's eyes flutter as she presents her hand towards Jeff, he then puts the ring on her finger and does a little jig. "Bada-Bing, bada-bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, honey!"

"You may now kiss the bride." Mabel says as she examined the ring on her finger.

"Well, uh, don't mind if I do." Before he could so anything, he gets sucked into the nozzle of a leaf blower that's Mabel picked up without him seeing.

"Aah! Hey, wait a minute! Ahh-aahh Whoa! Whoa! W-what's going on? Aah! Aaah!"

"That's for lying to me!" She then turned the know on the leaf blower, increasing the power. "That's for breaking my heart!"

"Ow! My face!"

"And this is for messing with my brother!" She then aims the leaf blower toward the gnome monster, Dipper coming to stand next to her. She turned to him, gesturing the leaf blower toward him.

"Wanna do the honors?" She asked Dipper, he came to her side grabbing half of the leaf blower, "On three."

"One, two, three!" They both counted, shifting the leaf blower from 'suck' to 'blow'. Blasting Jeff through the other gnomes and towards the forrest.

"I'll get you back for this!!!!!" He screams as he sails over the trees. Meanwhile the giant monster falls apart as the gnomes fall to the ground. They all start complaining until Mabel starts aiming the leaf blower at them, making them all run away.

"Anyone else wants some?" Mabel screams, the twins laugh for a bit until the turn around, hearing their Graunkle trying to get up. They both run to take one of your sides, helping you up. "Thanks, kids. I don't know you two got in a mess like this but I'm just glad its over."

Mabel rubs you back looking up at you, "Are you gonna be ok Y/N." You chuckled, ruffling both of their heads, "Just peachy, gonna need my pillow though. Are you two alright?" They looked at each other smiling then back up to you, nodded. You smiled and started making your way towards the gift shop door, looking behind you, you called out towards the twins. "You coming?"

Dipper was about to answer, but Mabel stopped him, "We'll be there soon, I gotta talk to Dip-stick real quick." You nodded once more, not having the strength to speak again and went inside.

Inside you found Stan who was counted some of the earnings for the day. Y/N walked over and place their hands on the counter.

"Whoa?! The hell happened to you?" You mouthed, 'I'll you later' as the twins came dragging themselves in. Y/N nodded their head towards the beaten up looking twins, eyeing Stan.

"Sheesh! You two get hit by a bus or somethin'?" Not paying Stan too much attention they continued towards the employee only door.

"Aha! Uh, hey! W-wouldn't you know it? Um, Y/N accidentally overstocked some inventory, so how's about each of you take one item from the gift shop on the house?"

Mabel spun around with a twinkle in her eyes, "Really?

"What's the catch?" Dipper asked as he folded his arms and raised his eyebrow, staring his Uncle down.

“The catch is do it before I change my mind. Now take something.” Stan exclaims has he elbows the cash register placing the money inside, rolling his eyes playfully at you as you laughed. You walked over to stand next to Stan, him taking one of your arms and helping you lean on him. You both watched the kids look around the ship. Dipper chose one of the merch hats, slipping it on his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Hmm. That oughta do the trick."

“And I will have a Grappling hook!” Digging into box Mabel pulls out the grappling hook and holds it over her head in excitement. “Yes!”

You smile and gently clap your hands, encouraging her, while Stan and Dipper look at her then each other in disbelief and confusion. As they look back at her again Stan ask, “Wouldn't you rather have a doll or something?”

She then proceeds to launch the hook toward the ceiling, the hook then wraps around a beam, pulling her up in the process, “Grappling hook!”

Stan shrugged, "Fair enough."

Y/N knocked on the attic door, waiting until the twins gave permission for them to enter. You opened the door, peeking inside, you notice Mabel jumping on her bed and Dipper with his knees up a book or something laying on them.

"You two ready for bed?" Dipper nodded as Mabel shouted a 'Yes', not stopping her jumping. You laughed, "Well, I hope you too had a good day today."

"It was awesome, Graunkle," Mabel yelled. She stopped jumping and began to aim her grappling hook all around the room, trying to see where to shoot. "Ok, just be careful with that, sweetie."

She nodded as you were about to close the door, Dipper called out to you.

"Wait, um, don't you want like... I don't know some kind of explanation after what happened today?" You chuckled, shaking you head.

"Dipper, I've lived in this weird town for many years. I don't really need one." The expression on his face lighten up, looking as happy as can be. "Well, if that's the case, maybe..." He stops him self looking over to his sister who's nodding at him.

"Maybe, we can show yo-" Before he could finish his sentence you all heard Stan calling out your name, you signed.

"Don't worry about him, I'll get to him later. Now, what were you saying, Dipper." You looked back at him, his expression full with concern. He looked down at his lap, "Never mind... It's nothing."

Y/N frowned looking at the ground, "Ok, sweeties, hope you have a goodnight." And with that you closed their room door.

As you started to make your way down the stairs you heard a crash and laughing come from the twins room. You straighten out your PJs, decided not to question what they were up too. Crossing the final step, you made it back downstairs into the living room. You started humming some tune you couldn't remember as you made your way to the vending machine. You hit the side a couple of times, making the door of it pop open, grabbing a bag of chips.

A light came from outside the gift shop, until the door opened reveling Stan carrying a lantern. "You better pay for that," He nudged Y/N joking. You rolled your eyes, as he typed on the vending machines keypad. The machine slides open like a door, Stan walked in with you following behind him.

Before you closed it behind you, you turned and looked around to making sure you were alone. Seeing that you both were, Y/N closed the machine with a soft click.

Episode 2 ->

[knotfodder]

-

[lune-moon-nuit]

It is clear that some of you have never worked a day in your lives, have absolutely no understanding of how the entertainment industry operates, and even less knowledge of legal procedures when you are engaged in a lawsuit against your employer—one of the most powerful companies in the country and the continent.

If you believe that artists can do whatever they want against SM just because they are 30-year-old adults, I have bad news for you. Why not blame the hundreds of victims of Johnny Kitagawa, who all eventually became 30-year-old adults as well and yet, for the most part, remained silent? After all, they were adults too, right?! It is astonishing how some of you are either that slow-witted or so self-absorbed—take your pick—that you fail to grasp what is happening despite everything unfolding before your eyes.

Let’s go over the chronology:

CBX sued SM in the summer of 2023. Their lawyers stated in their official declarations that SM had underpaid, exploited, and coerced them for years, even emotionally threatening them (as evidenced by the testimony where SM used the well-being of the other members to pressure Baekhyun into signing his contract). It was also stated that this issue had been discussed with all the members and that they were all aware of what CBX intended to do, giving their full approval. A quick reminder: in 2019, during an interview for the Obsession comeback, while Xiumin and Kyungsoo were already serving in the military, the members were asked if they planned to renew their contracts with SM. They responded that they had been discussing it among themselves for a long time and that regardless of whether they stayed with SM or not, they all intended to remain EXO as a group. So, they had been deliberating on this for at least four years, since 2019.

After months of smear campaigns and media attacks aimed at turning the public against CBX and threatening the planned comeback, CBX, through their lawyers' statements and their own posts (which directly contradicted SM’s narrative), reached a settlement and signed an agreement.

Kyungsoo founded his own company, Baekhyun established his own label, and Xiumin and Chen signed with Baekhyun’s agency. As per the negotiation, they were allowed to remain in EXO and work under SM for group activities.

In April 2024, all members (except Lay and those in military service) gathered to celebrate EXO’s anniversary despite tight schedules (such as Baekhyun’s) and exhaustion. They made it a priority to be present.

The following month, plot twist: SM violated the agreement and filed a lawsuit against CBX for some ridiculous reason (so forgettable I don’t even remember it). When CBX learned about this unexpectedly, they had no choice but to strike first by announcing publicly that they were suing SM once again for breaching the contract. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the chance to inform the other members beforehand.

Later, a journalist found it appropriate to question Junmyeon about the issue during a solo schedule that had absolutely nothing to do with EXO. Suho responded vaguely, saying that they were caught off guard because they hadn’t been informed (which I already explained) and that even as the leader, some topics were beyond his control, making it difficult for him to comment. His words were in no way directed against CBX, and time has proven that their relationship remains intact.

However, some so-called “fans” (particularly solo stans of Baekhyun and Chen) irrationally accused Suho of betraying CBX, playing directly into SM’s plan: dividing the fandom and creating a CBX vs. EXO narrative, when in reality, it’s CBX (and EXO) vs. SM.

Of course, Suho’s solo stans retaliated by attacking and blaming CBX, thus fueling a vicious cycle that benefits no one except SM and only causes harm to the group and its members. It all started because some fans spoke before thinking, much like Trump voters blaming minorities for their poverty while protecting the wealthy elites who actually exploit them.

Things then became more complicated. CBX members attended Junmyeon’s concert, proving that there was no bad blood. Baekhyun even asked a fan in the front row to film him, Chanyeol, and Kai enjoying the concert. Clearly, he did this so the fan would post the video. Given subsequent events, it’s evident that something is preventing them from posting photos together. Since the second legal dispute erupted, CBX and the other members have been unable to publicly share pictures with each other…

Over time, public interactions have become increasingly rare. However, external sources and Jongin’s interview yesterday confirm that they still talk and meet. There is undoubtedly legal or SM-imposed pressure preventing them from openly interacting. Given how SM manipulates the media to either erase CBX’s existence or twist their words, I firmly believe the members are staying silent publicly to prevent their words from being weaponized against them or the group.

It has been confirmed that SM is blacklisting Baekhyun from award shows despite his nominations and despite his own declaration that he would attend to perform regardless. With Xiumin’s comeback, SM has once again proven its power by preventing him from performing on music shows under the most absurd and contradictory excuses imaginable.

When CBX was excluded from EXO’s anniversary celebration, some fans immediately jumped to the conclusion that the members hated each other due to the lack of recent public interactions. However, Baekhyun confirmed that he found out at the same time as the fans, and Chanyeol stated the day before that he had no idea what was planned for the anniversary. This proves that none of the members saw SM’s dirty move coming.

That same day, an article revealed that during Jongin’s interview (which SM’s staff had edited), he mentioned having a group chat with Sehun, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun where they talk every single day, completely shattering the paranoia that some overly emotional fans—manipulated by SM’s narrative—had started to believe.

Worse, this revelation confirms that SM deliberately edits out any mention of members interacting with CBX to fuel paranoia among fans and weaken their support.

And to solidify this point, SM used its media influence to have the article edited to downplay Baekhyun’s mention.

If you think the members are doing nothing, you are completely mistaken. Ask yourself: why did a staff member suddenly post a February photo of Sehun and Baekhyun at a photoshoot today? Why did a restaurant owner confirm that Kyungsoo recently visited with EXO members? Clearly, the members cannot directly say they interact, so they use indirect methods to reassure fans without facing the consequences of speaking openly.

Now, for those “fans” still blaming them for being 30-year-old adults who supposedly could say something but don’t—unlike Wendy and others—do I need to remind you of the photos they posted in 2023 to counter SM’s narrative? The way they subtly exposed SM’s emotional abuse during the Rover promo video with Jongin? The not-so-subtle jabs in their Cream Soda YouTube content? They do speak when they can. There is clearly a legal, corporate, or strategic reason for their silence.

Do you really believe that SM and their bot minions online wouldn’t twist every single word they say? We’re talking about SM— the company that, for years, deliberately chose not to protect any EXO members when they were being harassed and defamed. And yes, Wendy spoke up, but she has remained silent ever since. Taeyeon spoke up too, but only to secure better promotions for herself, and after that? Nothing. And let’s be real— neither of them are in a situation where SM is holding their entire group hostage while simultaneously being in a legal battle against three of its members.

Honestly, you should take the time to educate yourselves about similar cases in China, Korea, Japan, or Thailand— learn how public manipulation through the press is used to weaken fan support, how entertainment companies are willing to go to extreme lengths purely out of ego when an artist exposes them or refuses to comply, and how smear campaigns are orchestrated. Have you even paid attention to what happened with TVXQ or NewJeans? If not, I urge you to educate yourselves for once instead of letting your paranoia, emotions, and pessimism take over, leading you to blame the actual victims— CBX and the rest of EXO.

Keep a level head. Stay united. Support EXO as a group. Support them individually while the legal proceedings are ongoing. Trust the members. And place the blame solely on SM, which has always been the one and only problem in this entire situation (since I apparently have to keep repeating it).

Oh, and to some of you— put down your screens, log off Twitter, go outside, find a job, and realize that nothing in life is as simple as you think, no matter how old you are— especially when you’re up against one of the oldest entertainment companies in the country, with immense power over the industry and the press.

[profeshyearner]

Humdrum

Chapter 4

Homelander x reader slow burn that loosely follows the events of the series. The reader is an NYC transplant working as an archivist at Vought.

Warnings for this chapter: violence, stalking, brief smut

Tracklist:

It’s Happening Again - Agnes Obel

I Don’t Smoke - Mitski

The End - LLow

The day Stan Edgar was arrested, no one said anything.

There was no announcement. No internal memo. Not even a leak to the press—which was strange, because Vought lived on press. But this was different. This wasn’t the kind of scandal they could spin with a black-and-white press release and a smile. This wasn’t someone cheating on their taxes. This was rot at the root.

Edgar had been the center of the web. With him gone, the threads snapped one by one.

Meetings got canceled. Floors got shuffled. Entire departments went dark without warning. The cafeteria stopped serving hot food. HR stopped returning emails. People started whispering about contingency plans, but no one knew who was in charge anymore. Not officially, anyway.

And Homelander? He didn’t show up.

That was the worst part. He didn’t yell. Didn’t grandstand. Didn’t march into the boardroom and demand the corner office. No, he simply wasn’t there. Not on the 99th floor. Not on the news. Not even in the building.

You’d think his absence would’ve been a relief.

But it felt worse.

Because absence can be strategic. Absence can be a warning. Absence can mean: I don’t need to be here to control you.

It started small. You’d pass by the glass walls of his penthouse office—always dark, always empty. The elevator dinged like a ghost arriving, but the doors opened to no one. Security started avoiding eye contact. Lower-level analysts left in silent waves. And everyone started watching each other. Like if they just stared hard enough, they could figure out who was next.

You began to unravel quietly.

No breakdown. No scream. Just… a slow drip.

You stopped going home some nights. Stayed late under the cold fluorescence of your office, hunched in front of footage you’d already archived. The tapes played on loop—grainy lab cameras, the same boy, the same voice, the same screaming. You memorized them without meaning to.

You ran on the treadmill in the company gym until your lungs burned. Until your legs gave out and your body felt quiet. You didn’t know why. Maybe you were trying to feel control. Maybe you just wanted to feel anything that wasn’t dread.

You started smoking again. At first, on the rooftop. Then the stairwell. Then your office with the window cracked open, like the smoke might carry your thoughts out and away from you. One morning you woke up with your face pressed to your desk and your fingers stained yellow.

You stopped caring about your appearance. Late to meetings. Hair tangled. Wrinkled blouses pulled from the bottom of drawers. Once, you wore mismatched shoes and didn’t notice until hours later. No one said anything. Maybe they were afraid to.

Sister Sage showed up more.

At first, she lingered in the background—clipboard in hand, eyes flicking from her tablet to you and back again. But then she started sitting. Right there in your office. Watching you work in total silence, like you were part of some behavioral study.

She never told you why. Never gave a reason. She didn’t have to.

Occasionally, she’d speak. Short, clipped observations, usually at the exact moment you felt like unraveling:

“You’re not sleeping.”

“You accessed the same archive file thirty-two times this week.”

“You’re dissociating more frequently. Fascinating.”

You started dreading the sound of her shoes in the hallway. The way she never really blinked. The way she stared at you like she was already three steps ahead of your brain.

One day, you snapped.

“What do you want from me?”

Sage tilted her head, just slightly.

“Data,” she said.

And smiled.

But even she wasn’t the one haunting you.

Homelander never returned. Not in person.

But he was everywhere.

At night, your apartment felt wrong. You swore you’d locked your windows—but one was cracked open when you got home. A coffee mug was moved half an inch to the left. You left a drawer slightly ajar on purpose. The next morning, it was closed.

You told yourself it was exhaustion. That you were imagining things. That the smell of aftershave in your hallway was a coincidence. That the faint shape you thought you saw in the reflection of your television—tall, still, watching—was a trick of the light.

But you started muttering to yourself. Saying his name aloud just to hear it. Just to feel like you had control over it.

You unplugged your television. Removed your phone battery. Started checking every room when you got home. Once, you found a single fingerprint on your bathroom mirror. Another time, you smelled blood, faintly, on your sheets.

And every night, every night, you dreamed of the shower.

Of the red water. The heat of his body behind yours. His voice—low, broken, terrible. The way he held you like you were his.

You woke up gasping more than once. You bit your own hand until it bled just to stay grounded.

You began to miss him. You hated yourself for it.

One night, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You closed your computer without shutting it down. Left the lights on. Walked out of Vought Tower without telling anyone where you were going.

You found a bar on 9th and Halstead—dim, quiet, full of people who didn’t care where you worked. You ordered something strong and fast. Then another. Then something you didn’t ask the name of.

You weren’t celebrating. You weren’t grieving.

You were trying to drown something. Or maybe chase it out.

He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been. Not since the shower.

But it didn’t matter. Your skin still remembered the way the steam clung to his shoulders. The way he stood too close. The broken rasp in his voice. That look—not love, not lust, but need, raw and predatory and childlike all at once.

He hadn’t touched you since. Hadn’t spoken to you. Hadn’t even looked at you.

So why did it feel like he never left?

You drank more. Flirted with a stranger. He had brown eyes and a soft laugh and the kind of hands that weren’t meant to break anything.

You told yourself that was what you wanted. Something human. Something harmless.

You took him home.

You let him kiss you on the elevator. Let him follow you through the door. You smiled when he took off his coat. Tried to feel anything when he touched you.

But everything about it felt… thin. Off. Like wearing someone else’s clothes.

He kissed you like he was grateful. You kissed him like you were hoping it would stick.

You undressed each other in the dark.

When he was inside you, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine it felt like his weight. Like his heat. You tried not to picture the way Homelander looked at you in the mirror. The way he smelled when he was soaked in blood. The way he shook when he spoke your name like he wasn’t supposed to know it.

The man came with a soft groan and whispered something you didn’t catch.

You turned your face away.

—

He left without asking for your number.

You lay on your side, staring at the wall, not blinking. You didn’t bother changing the sheets. You didn’t bother pretending it helped.

It didn’t.

Your apartment used to be quiet.

Now it felt watched.

You started checking the locks three times instead of two. Then five. Then eight. You set up a doorstop under your bedroom door and jammed a chair against the knob. You kept the hallway light on. Slept with your keys clenched in your hand.

But it never felt like enough.

Because things kept moving.

A spoon left slightly askew. The closet door nudged open. A towel, still damp, when you hadn’t showered. Once, you came home to find your favorite mug turned around—handle facing the opposite direction. You knew you hadn’t left it that way.

You told yourself it was stress.

But your hands shook when you unlocked the door.

You started talking aloud just to hear a voice.

Just to prove you were still alone.

Sometimes, you’d come home and smell something faint but familiar. Warm. Sharp. Metallic. Like ozone.

Like blood.

Like him.

You told yourself you were imagining it.

But your cat—who usually hid from guests—started meowing at corners. Sitting in front of empty doorways. Hissing at nothing.

You threw out the flower. The one left on your pillow. You told yourself it had always been there. That maybe it fell out of a book.

But the petals were fresh.

And you didn’t own any white flowers.

You stopped inviting people over. Stopped answering the door at all. Every knock felt like a threat.

You unplugged your TV. Covered the camera on your laptop. Slept in clothes in case you had to run.

Once, you caught yourself whispering his name like a spell, his real name, the one from the tapes

Like saying it might keep him away.

Or bring him back.

You didn’t know what this was.

Not love. Not longing.

It was a cage being built around your mind one quiet hour at a time.

But that didn’t make it easier.

Didn’t stop the fear from curling under your skin like wire.

Because paranoia is only paranoia until you’re right.

You opened your closet and found your drawers rifled through.

Nothing taken.

Just… touched.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t run.

You sat on the floor and stared at your open sock drawer until sunrise.

And when you went to work the next morning, Sage was waiting outside your office.

“You really should stop leaving your windows unlocked,” she said without looking up from her tablet.

You stared at her. Blinked.

She smiled.

—

The next morning, your supervisor called you in.

She didn’t ask how you were. Didn’t mention the dark circles under your eyes or the fact that your shirt was buttoned unevenly. Just said:

“You need to pull yourself together.”

You nodded.

“You’ve been off for weeks. Whatever’s going on with you—fix it. Fast.”

You nodded again.

She waited for you to say something. You didn’t.

Eventually, she sighed and looked back at her screen.

You left her office without another word.

That night, your apartment was quiet.

You moved through it like you weren’t there. Like it wasn’t yours.

You washed a glass in the sink.

You stared at the tile. You checked the window latch again. And again.

Then you saw it.

Not in the living room. Not in the mirror.

In the kitchen.

In the sink.

A single strand of blonde hair, curled against the steel basin. Pale as snow.

—————

Homelander’s Perspective:

There was no announcement.

Not from Edgar. Not from him.

Homelander didn’t need to make one. His silence was enough. Silence carried weight. Power. Fear. He’d learned that in the lab—how silence could make even grown men piss themselves.

So he stayed quiet, pulled back from showy public appearances. Let Vought rot from the inside out.

He knew the workers felt his absence, but he was watching everything.

The glass walls of the bullpen stayed dark. The seven didn’t deserve to see him, the public didn’t deserve to see him. They’d stared too long already. They’d looked at him like a weapon, a freak, a thing to be managed. Edgar had made sure of that.

Now Edgar was gone, out of the picture.

And you—you—you were still here.

You sat in your little office like a soldier bleeding out. Quiet. Unnoticed. Beautiful.

He watched you fall apart in real time. Watched the way your shoulders curled in, how your hair stopped getting brushed, how your eyes stopped shining. It was like watching a candle melt.

And he loved you like that.

Not the way other people love. Not messy or loud. His love was silent. Holy. You were something sacred when you were broken. Fragile. Soft. Yours was a kind of pain that didn’t whine or scream—it endured. And it made him feel clean just watching you suffer.

You were good, then.

Pure.

When you played those tapes—his tapes—he watched the flicker of the screen on your face and imagined crawling into your lap, curling there like something small, something helpless. Maybe you’d run your hands through his hair. Maybe you’d say his name like it meant something. He liked imagining the way his name—his real name—would sound falling from your lips.

John. John. John.

You were the only one who’d seen him—really seen him. And you hadn’t turned away. Not yet.

Sister Sage was just a tool. She thought she was studying you. Observing your decline like data points in a lab. But he didn’t care about her notes. He only cared about what you whispered when you thought you were alone.

Wounded. Perfect.

Untouched.

He went to your apartment when you weren’t there.

At first, he told himself it was for protection. To make sure you were safe. That no one else was watching you the way he was. But that lie didn’t last long.

He memorized your schedule. Knew which days you stayed late at Vought. Which coffee shop you stopped at on the way home. How long you lingered on the sidewalk before unlocking your door.

That was when he’d slip in.

Through the window. Or the balcony. Or the front door.

The first time, he didn’t touch anything. Just stood in your bedroom and listened. The hum of the refrigerator. The faint buzz of the streetlamp outside your curtains. The softness of your sheets, still shaped to your sleeping form.

He stood there for twenty-three minutes.

Didn’t breathe.

The second time, he sat on the edge of your bed.

Ran his fingers over the comforter. Opened your drawers. Touched the silk of your underwear like it was sacred. Lifted a bottle of perfume and sprayed it just once into the air, closing his eyes like it was a prayer.

He found the clothes you wore the night of the shower. Still balled in the corner of your closet. Still crusted with blood.

He didn’t touch those.

He just stared.

The third time, he brought a gift.

A single white flower.

He left it on your pillow.

You never mentioned it.

He started visiting more often after that. When he knew you were out—at work, at the gym, out trying to forget him—he’d come and remind himself who you really were. Before you ruined it. Before you made him think of you with someone else’s hands on your skin.

But then came him.

The stranger. The man at the bar with the soft hands and boring eyes. He watched it all from above—your drink, your smile, the way your body leaned into something less. He thought you were grieving. Thought maybe this was how you mourned.

But when you brought him home, when you let him touch you, when you opened yourself up to him—

That’s when something broke.

He couldn’t look away.

He watched every second.

Not because he wanted to. But because he had to. Because if he turned his back, it might mean you were someone else. Someone unclean. And he couldn’t bear that. Couldn’t stomach the thought that you were like the rest of them—liars with soft skin and open legs and hollow words.

You weren’t supposed to be like that. Not like that. Not dirty.

He stood on your fire escape, hands clenched tight behind his back, heat rolling off him in waves that made the glass fog. He could hear the sounds from inside. The man groaning. You—silent.

Silent like guilt.

He wanted to tear the man apart. Wanted to rip through your door and leave nothing but blood and teeth and whimpers behind.

Homelander stared at the glass like he could burn through it.

Like if he focused hard enough, the heat from his eyes might pass through the distance, through the building, through her chest.

Pop her fucking heart like a balloon.

But he didn’t move.

Not yet.

He was imagining it too vividly.

Not just the kill—but how it would feel. Not just the blood, but the moment before.

That moment when she realized. When she looked up at him, startled, confused. Her brain not catching up to her terror fast enough.

And then—

His hands. Around her neck. Her nails slicing into his forearms. Her knees bucking against his hips. Her mouth open, her wide fucking doe eyes screaming why are you doing this?

But she’d know why.

She fucking knew.

He’d say it to her. Whisper it as she gasped and kicked and bled from her lip when he slammed her head too hard against the floor:

“You were supposed to be mine.”

“I let you see me. I let you touch me when I was broken.”

“And you gave yourself to him.”

Her feet would drag weakly across the floor, scraping hardwood. Her eyes would fill with tears, with blood. With him.

And still—still!—he knew there’d be a part of her that wanted him to stop. That believed he might. That believed he cared.

That’s what made him want to do it more.

To teach her what gods do to liars.

She should have worshipped him.

Instead, she invited some stranger in and let him forget her name while he came inside her.

And now Homelander would remind her who she belonged to.

Not just with fear. Not just with pain.

With total, annihilating clarity.

He’d leave her gasping on the floor, pupils blown wide, throat purpled and slick with his fingerprints. No words. No excuses.

Only silence.

Only truth.

And then, maybe then, he could let her go.

Maybe then he’d finally stop dreaming about her.

He blinked his thoughts away, focusing on you again. The very much alive you, laying there in the bed unmoving.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t call anyone.

You didn’t even change the sheets.

You just laid there. Quiet.

—

There were rules, at first, to his visits.

He wouldn’t take anything. Wouldn’t leave a trace.

One night, he found a wine glass in the sink. With lipstick.

Not your color.

His jaw clenched.

His vision blurred.

He shattered the glass in one hand and didn’t even feel the cut.

He scrubbed the counter with his bare palm until his blood soaked into the sponge. He left the pieces in the trash but adjusted the bag so it looked undisturbed.

After that, he wasn’t careful anymore.

He opened your bathroom cabinet.

Checked the expiration dates on your birth control.

Counted your razors.

Smelled your pillow.

He found an old T-shirt—yours, worn soft with time—and folded it into his pocket. Not to keep. Just for a while.

And when he left, he always did one thing:

He moved something.

A drawer. A magnet. A curtain.

Just enough to remind you that he’d been there.

That you weren’t alone.

That no matter how far you fell, he was always watching.

Waiting for you to be good again.

He came back that night. Didn’t touch anything. Just stood in your kitchen and watched the sink drip.

Listened to you breathing in the other room.

xx

Taglist: @xxyaoi-nationxx @unnisumi

[spookyorcas]

the day has finally arrived... my sims 3 to sims 4 save file is finally out!

i have a (probably unhealthy) attachment to the sims 3, but my computer hates it.. so I thought I would turn the sims 4 into my favorite version of the game. over the last year I have gathered and created 155 unique households, all from the sims 3. each sims 4 neighborhood is transformed into a sims 3 world (see more under the cut). I will admit - I am not a builder, so all of the lots are from the gallery and the houses are not always accurate to their sims 3 houses (I'm working on it). I really put everything into this save file, and I hope others are able to enjoy it as much as I have!

download and more information under the cut

each world was transformed into a sims 3 world (kinda - mt komorebi was difficult but I'll discuss later)

there are a few exceptions to this chart. some eco friendly households that didn't make their specific world were placed in evergreen harbor and mt komorebi has some non-sims 3 townies. you can find the full list of all the households included in my save file here!

ok.. so if you're a total sims 3 stan like me.. you might want this cas background and these sound replacements (1 , 2 , 3)

if you want to restrict spawning so each household stays in their home world, i recommend this mod!

--

phew that was a lot.. but i'm done.. for now. the announcement of the new pack means another world to makeover AND the ability to go back and adjust some of the "apartments" I had in other worlds. more apartments means more sims 3 townies!! i have a lot of work ahead of me :) I truly appreciate everyone who took the time to read and follow my journey creating this save file (even if I went silent for months... it was rough). please tag me if you play in the save file, I would love to see what everyone does with it! if you have any suggestions, comments, or error reports do not hesitate to reach out!

you can download my sims 3 to sims 4 save file here!!!!

(simfileshare) (patreon)

instructions for installing a sims 4 save file can be found here

@mmfinds @sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld @bubblysccfinds @themodsbabe @alwaysfreecc @public-ccfinds

[sillyjpeg]

BOOK OF BILL WEBSITE P2

This contains MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL WEBSITE REFRESH. if you want to find and decode things by yourself do not read this!!

this is gonna be long bc im a yapper and all ive done the past 4 hours is sit on this website. strap in folks.

connecting to my last post, where we left off with the message from bill saying "IM STILL ON YOUR MIND" (if you havent read it, its pinned on my page and i will be referencing it a bit in this post)

If we plug this into the computer we get this video of the beach with Stanley talking, and from the sides it looks like hes on a boat, probably the Stan O War.

On the same note, if you type in "KINGS OF NEW JERSEY" you get a zip file sent to you labled SECRET CODE, which contains the bros code shown in the book of bill! nothing new but i thought it was pretty cute :)

I also wanted to share some code i found in different images. if you type in "BAAAAA" you get this:

I found this incredibly interesting, because a large part of bills backstory is that he wanted to "show his dimension the stars" he wanted to show them freedom. He was the shepherd. In the first part, i feel like it really shows bills feelings. "Tired of trotting around aimlessly, munching on whatevers near your mouth, sleeping on whatevers under your haunches." Bill knew there was more out there, he wasnt going to sit around doing nothing. He describes his massacre as "liberation."

The last verse of the poem stuck out to me. "It's time to fit in." but when i decoded the message at the bottom it made sense. It says "BLACK SHEEP" this suggests that Bill never fit in his home dimension.

more bill stuff, if you type in irregular you get his mugshot.

The code underneath reads : "NO PRISON OR ATTENTION SPAN CAN HOLD HIM" which may be hinting that he escapes his rehabilitation. hopefully not :/

The only reason i found this one was because it was in the code. it probably relates to something in a different code or book, but if you enter "BOOBERRY," you get this:

labled: "The Meaning Of Life," its a nice little tidbit i wanted to share.

"glue knives to your body and run around the buffet" true poetry.

and the last bill cipher bit of this post, if you type "ADASTRAPERASPERA" you get another page of the journal about bills corpse.

ford and mable bonding time my babies...

also the triangluar spots in the mushrooms?? the disease spreads...

onto fiddauthor we only eat fiddauthor in this house. this isnt decoding but i needed to share because they are my everythings. if you plug in "SORRY", it blesses you with the complete photo of fiddleford and stanford :( and if you flip it its a note from fidds

FIDDLEFORD BEING THE FIRST MCGUCKET TO GO TO COLLEGE

also his mustache getting caught in a pencil sharpener??? shave that shit boy

also ford being the only one who believed in his theory, then spent 9 hours with him proving it??? they r soulmates, and also the fact that mcgucket was about to go home when stanford came in.

also fiddleford never noticing his hands

thats all for now, im tired. if you read all of this i love you

[voydhund]

um. big TINAWDC spoilers.

LOTS of shit im gonna piss. this was made /w a ton of help from @neorails, and a friend!

Last warning, all spoilers!

. ~ △ ~ .

1: PASSWORDS

"AD ASTRA PER ASPRA" - Two images of pages written by Ford, with stickers and doodles on it from Mabel.

"AXOLOTL" - "YOU ASK ALOTL QUESTIONS"

"BABYBILL" - An image of, [you guessed it,] baby Bill in an ultrasound, with text that reads "CONGRATS, GUESS WHATS GROWING INSIDE YOU RIGHT NOW! SEE YOU IN 9 MONTHS PAPA!" [I giggled at this one way too hard]

"BILL" - opens Triangle - Wikipedia

"BLINDEYE" - An image of an eye test, with a code that reads

"BOYFRIEND" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"CIA" - "YOUR WEBCAM IS ON. WE ARE WATCHING"

"CIPHERTOLOGY" - "CURIOUS?"

"CRYPTOGRAM CODEX" - Downloads a file with Bill's fonts.

"CONSPIRACY" - A video of someone talking about the site while it was on the page with Soos, stressing out trying to figure out the meaning. Me too.

"DEERTEETH" - "FOR YOU, KID"

"DOGE" - "LIFE PRIVILEDGES REVOKED. NOW RELEASING POISON GAS."

"DORITO" - Screamer jumpscare [i jumped]

"DUCKTECTIVE" - "DUCKTECTIVE STARS IN ''LOVE, QUACKTUALLY'' COMING TO: ''OI, ITS THE COCKNEY CHANNEL, INNIT?'' THIS FALL"

"EVENHISLIESARELIES" - An image of Ford's chess piece. Under it, Bill is talking with someone about Ford in the theraprism.

"FORDTRAMARINE" - An image of a file by Ford, talking about colours that cannot be perceived without 'Continued contact with extradimensional phenomena.'

"GIDEON" - opens either sweat resistant bolo ties on google, or audio of him 'singing' a song, before whispering 'I love you forever Mabel.' [I hate this place.] May also lead to "sweat resistant bolo ties." [I never got this, but Neo said it did]

"HECTORING" - A record of a song about Bill, and someone who fell for his tricks. Mentions to 'Leave him behind,' and the fucking "im a little different" shirt.

"HOTXOLOTL" - An image of Dimensional Authority Most Wanted, talking about Bill and the henchmaniacs. Red pen X's out Bill, writing "DEAD?" above him, circles the last seen and writes "WHERE DID THEY GO??"

"JUSTFITIN" - A video of a father and son playing a game called 'Perfection.'

"KINGSOFNEWJERSEY" - Downloads a file with Stan and Ford's secret code.

"LIES" - a REALLY long popup by Bill. At the bottom it reads "LIE UNTIL WHAT YOU WANT TO BE TRUE BECOMES TRUE. LIE UNTIL YOU CANT REMEMBER WHATS A LIE AND WHAT ISNT." and then in large, glitchy text, "LIE UNTIL YOU ARENT LIVING ANYMORE."

"LLIB" - Opens Jazzy Triangle Meets A Square Square (1969)

"LLIBREHPIC" - Opens Jazzy Triangle Meets A Square Square (1969)

"LOVE" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"MABEL" - Stickers decorate your lab with a nice 'POP!' sound. after a few times of using it, text reads "LAB NOW FULLY MABELIZED."

"MCGUCKET" - Opens Cotton Eye Joe [🙂<3]

"MORALITY" - An image of a paper with 9 drawings of animals fighting or eating another animal. Text reads "CAN YOU FIND MORALITY IN THE NATURAL WORLD?"

"NAITSUAF" - An image of an article about selling your soul [For FUN and PROFIT!] written by Bill.

"NOTHING" - "SOMETHING"

"PAPERJAM" - An image of Tyrone, text reading "Here, he's your problem now! Just keep this guy from liquids!" under it.

"PINATA" - A video of someone whacking a Bill pinata while it protests

"PINES" - "A GOOD FAMILY TREE"

"ROMANCE" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"SCIENTOLOGY" - "SUPPRESSIVE PERSON DETECTED"

"SHAVEYOURGRANDMA" - An image of a chapter of a book talking about the human life cycle, written by Bill. [The children yearn for the mines.]

"SIXER" - An image of a case report on Ford talking about his extra finger. There appears to be a word written under "Placebo" in small text. Also notably reads "If i could kidnap him and bring him to our secret cloning lab" obscured by a black marking.

"SOMETHING" - "NOTHING"

"SORRY" - An image of McGucket and Ford in collage(?). Ford is covered in sticky notes. [☹️]

"SOOS" - An image of a really long note from Soos, talking about Bill and his experiences as The New Mr. Mystery. Lots of cute doodles.

"SPOOKEMUPS" - An image of a book titled 'SPOOKEMUPS: The Book Of Bill" written by B. Cipher, with audio of a man reading it. It's about a boy getting scared by things and assuming it's Bill.

"STAN" - opens one of seven ebay pages that lead to Brass Knuckles, Colonel Sanders Tie, Shriner Fez, Male Girdle, 8-Ball Cane, Dogs Playing Poker, Gold Chains For Old Men. After going through all of them, the WHEEL! OF! SHAME! made by Bill appears, exposing some random secrets and shames. The last option reads "HOW HE BEAT ME," and when pressed, a note reads "He didn't! IM STILL HERE, SUCKER!"

"TOURISTTRAP" - An image of a page of a pamphlet, talking about 'The Caves Of Mystery.'

"TYRONE" - An image of Tyrone, text reading "Here, he's your problem now! Just keep this guy from liquids!" under it.

"VALLIS CINERIS" - A video of Baby Bill with his parents, only silhouettes of static. a text to speech says "Why did you do it?" three times.

"WADDLES" - Opens Pig Placement Network

"WEIRD" - A video of Alex(?) trapped in the screen, shouting at Bill to let him out.

"WEIRDMAGEDDON" - An image of a newspaper titled 'THE GRAVITY FALLS GOSSIPER,' with articles about how absolutely nothing happened. Never mind all that!

"WENDY" - An image of a note from Wendy that reads "Whatuppp cursed book! I've got a totally legit way to ward off evil triangles, and I wrote it in the bottom right corner of the book. It's totally worth it, I promise! Stay cool dork!"

"WHOAREYOU" - "I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION"

"XYLER" -

. ~ △ ~ .

2: CLICKABLES

The golden tooth of the skull:

The Book Of Bill:

The Bill on the dagger in the book:

The 'McGUCKET LABS' on the top of the computer:

The eye in the bottle:

. ~ △ ~ .

3: CODES

this segment is a little iffy,

On page two of The Book Of Bill clickable

Solved: uh. maybe. check my blog?

During lightning strikes:

Solved: Vallis Cineris. It's a password!

The colours on the blindeye eye test probably arent codes, because they read "euclmriannrepttgccvisignnsuwepvisidnn." you can try though. ARE a code! they read "EUCLIDEAN DEPT OF VISION SUPERVISION" !

The blindeye eye test itself is apparently a ceaser cipher, but i havent found an answer to it yet.

working on adding to this, theres a LOT.

[isawken]

clown eggs!

everyone loves ‘em. most notably, i, some random dumbass, have one. but where do they come from? if you say the clowns lay the eggs i'll fucking cut you this is a history lesson. be serious about clowns for once in your life

clowns international is the oldest operating clown organization. it was founded by a dude named Stan Bult allll the way back in the 1940s. this man was not a clown. he was a chemist. i wish i knew more about him but it's been impossible to get anything more than blurbs, all relating to eggs. i don’t even know what sort of chemistry he did! but he grew up with and liked clowns a lot. so he got an organization together- originally called the International Circus Clowns Club. one thing about our boy Stan is he had an almost cartoonishly-niche hobby: he liked painting hollowed out chicken eggs with the faces of some of the great clowns that preceded his clownpatriots. see some of the below Bult originals:

it didn’t take long for his practice to become enmeshed with the organization. like seriously what self-respecting clown wouldn’t appreciate the absurdity of such a practice. Stan started painting the faces of the org’s contemporary members, both for their own enjoyment and to keep a record of their membership far more interesting than a bunch of dusty ol files. over the next few decades and up until his death in 1966, my man Stan painted over 450 eggs! boy, my cloaca’s sore just thinking about it!

the egg-painting practice died with him. but it wouldn’t stay dead. 20 years after his death the organization, now called Clowns International, was under new management, and they knew the importance of the history they had. they hired a new egg-specific artist and offered (now ceramic) painted eggs to all of their members, for a small fee along with their standard membership fee. for a slightly more expensive fee you can get two eggs- one for the registry, and one to keep in your home for all to see and be very confused by, depending on how much your visitors know about your personal life.

now, i’ve seen some very dramatic statements made about the registry. and i would like to dispel them. no, the organization does not litigate their eggs. there is no Clown Lawyer who keeps tabs on every existing egg and every incoming egg and mediates disputes about suspiciously similar-looking face paint between clowns. you won’t get Clown Sued if your submitted face looks kinda like another’s. the record has only ever been utilized as just that, a record, so if any sort of interpersonal dispute between clowns arose they could rely on their egg’s existence/history to defend themselves against accusations of theft, or vice versa. sorry to disappoint you freaks out there who want clowns to be jerks but it’s just not like that.

clowns international is not the only organization that does an egg registry, but it is the org that started it all, so theirs often come with a level of provenance. and for those of you who have followed me for a while you know what time it is, yeah that’s right, it’s time to PLUG MY OWN EGG AGAIN YEAH THAT’S RIGHT LOOK AT MY EGG

i promise i'll take new pictures of it soon

if you don’t know me and for some reason want to know more about me and my dearest egg i’ve got two posts about it. honestly extremely humble of me considering how up my own ass i am about this life achievement of mine

anyways, even with the societal downswing vis a vis the overarching cultural opinion on clowns, the organization is still going, and still making eggs. and i for one hope the practice never dies out, and that more specific organizations adopt similar practices. like can you imagine a woodworking guild that makes little wooden statuettes of all their members? the clowns are tastemakers and it's time we realize that.

and that’s the short of Clown Egg History! clown’s don’t lay eggs they are humans and they have very human history that is so so interesting and worth spreading and if i see anyone tag this as clown husbandry i cannot stress enough i will go scorched earth on your ass! if you have any questions on this or other clown-related stuff my inbox is always open and i love to spread the good word of Clown. also i’m sorry but i have a podcast to plug:

fully-clown-centric episodes are in the works and i am planning to have them release before the end of the year but until then please check out what i do have if ur interested in fool-related history! i don’t make any money off this i just really want to share the knowledge about fools across history i have learned because i’m insane and care a great deal about it :o)