#;we love cryptids in this house

[wannabepapa]

I would love to see you lug around a monster pregnancy 😈 huge, heavy, active, lengthy, insatiable cravings fueling explosive growth spurts...

oh is that right? i could probably go into the forest and find myself some unnatural monster that could knock me up. maybe the local cryptid is currently in their mating season and are in desperate need of a mate.

i can set a little camp up in the middle of the forest where the hunters claim there is some demon screeching and scaring off the animals. into the night i hear the creature howling, desperate for someone to answer their call for a mate. they know i'm here but something has them hesitant to come close to me. i let them know i'm safe and mean no harm—i want to be their friend and help them through this difficult time.

it's day two and we've come to an agreement. they breed me and i come to the forest every day for them to see my body change and grow with their brood. they are gentle with their large clawed hands and pointy teeth, large body easily overtaking me as they make me their breeder. i know the moment i'm driving home that i'm pregnant. my stomach is engorged as of i'm already four months pregnant. they had a lot pent up and they were going to make sure i got pregnant

the months roll by in a blur of excited bliss. my body has blossomed in half the time of a human pregnancy and i can feel the oncoming birth. my massive packed gut is a near constant moving thing with the brood inside me fighting for room. all i want is to stay in the forest now that i can't fit behind the wheel of my car without the seat being as far back as it can go. i've gotten too big to do anything but lay in bed or slowly waddle through my house to get food. there are several babies inside me with all the movements and this weird intuition i've suddenly acquired. it's at least three, maybe even four but we won't know until i give birth. i look like someone pregnant with big triplets full term—i am surprised i can even move at all.

unless you would like me to talk about what it would be like to get impregnated by a slime creature or a tentacle monster and carrying their eggs~

[hellishgayliath]

Got to hold some snakes and a bearded dragon and frogs today. Twas a good time all round 👌👌👌

[insipid-drivel]

Something's been decimating my supplies of peanuts, seeds, and cracked corn for my squirrel feeder, and it's kind of been driving me crazy. I've been spending the better part of a week trying to figure out what's been visiting my garden feeders exclusively when I'm sleeping.

I put up a motion activated camera, expecting rats and raccoons as possible culprits. This is a swamp, after all, and varmints gotta eat too, but the sheer quantities of animal feed I'm having to refill almost every morning has been getting expensive. I have to figure out what (or who? Ew) is behind this.

It's been almost a week of nothing on my cameras but industrious spiders and moths, saving for a stray cat (who's getting a feral cat house and food+water now I know about him), and a single visit from such a fat raccoon I honestly thought it was a bear cub that only visited once. It could've easily been my midnight snacker, but it never revisited (rude).

I am officially Confused. Rats, or just that one chonk of a raccoon, would've explained the disappearing feed, but none appeared, even as my feeders still wind up empty by the time I get up in the morning to check them. Even ants would've explained it for me enough to drop the subject, but the only ants we have out here aren't active at night.

Bigfoot? Maybe. I live in Bigfoot country, and met my fair share of swamp devils offering me slammin' Blues skills in exchange for my soul. Weird things happen out here every day, but this is officially bothering me. This is going on outside my bedroom window, so it's starting to get... unsettling.

So I stayed up. My cameras are set to stop motion capture after sunrise to avoid eating memory, so the Feeder Cryptid must be showing up after the cameras power down, but before I wake up after sunrise.

So it became time: Time to get my weird, weird cat, and use her as my eyes and ears. Nobody bats an eye at a cat chilling in a window sill.

Yes, I have a dog, but she doesn't bark or growl unless she's upset or playing.

My cat growls at mailmen.

(Nimue, the delivery-hater - she's not fat, just a Maine Coon)

So I park her in my bedroom overnight.

Just as the sun crested the horizon this morning, at about 5am, I heard Nimue's growling and sat up with my phone's camera ready, eager for Bigfoot or maybe my neighbor's weird nephew.

But no

goddamned teenagers. I'm going back to bed.

[foresthuntermajrach]

Imho they're kinda cute

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[strawburry01]

The Scientist

Ford Pines x Fem! Reader

Summary: Bill disrupts a wedding

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I highly recommend reading all previous parts before this for maximum oof-age. I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I get great satisfaction from writing unhappy things. 500 likes and I'll write their happy ending.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5

It had been a few years since you and Ford moved to Gravity Falls now. You finally moved from your ramshackle cabin into a cozy wooden A-Frame (you insisted on an A-Frame as you always loved the way they looked). Ford and you had worked on building a deep lab in the basement in order to keep it safe from the random storms and power outages, while you kept your growing photography and videography library upstairs. You collected random antiques from stores and sidewalks to add to the house to make it feel a little more lived in. Ford chuckled as he watched you perfectly balance an ornate hourglass you had bought on top of a jammed globe. Satisfied you brushed the dust off your hands and stepped besides Ford to look at your growing mantelpiece.

“I’m thinking about going into interior design if this whole cryptid hunting stuff doesn’t work out,” you grinned. Ford scoffed and put an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“The whole cryptid hunting stuff is going fine though. I’m just having a bit of a plateau,” he mumbled as he kissed your head. You cleared your throat. “We- we’re having a bit of a plateau,” he quickly corrected himself, his face turning red. 

It was true, the hunting had been stalling a little bit. Ford’s focus had turned from recording these anomalies to trying to track where it was all exactly coming from. It was the real scientist in him needing to know where everything was coming from. On the opposite side was you, who was content to continue trying to get better pictures, better recordings, better visuals of these anomalies. Oftentimes you’d tape or clip pictures into Ford’s journals as you got better so they didn’t just have his scribbles to describe the beasts. You were happy for once in your life, you felt content living with the love of your life in a beautiful, albeit spooky, little town. You were pretty sure Ford felt the same way, if he ever let himself feel accomplished, rather than just continuing to pine over the next question and torturing himself over the solutions.

A few weeks later you woke up groggily checking the alarm. Ford had just slammed the front door and was stumbling back into the house. It was 3:00 am. 

“Hon?” you shouted out as you sat up in your shared bed. You heard him pause and slowly walk to the bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, staring at you for a second too long until shaking his head and snapping back.

“Hey, sorry about that dear, I um-” he said as he slid his shoes and coat off onto the ground, “guess I lost track of time in the cave I was exploring,”. He huffed and thumped into bed besides you as you went back under the covers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, as you carefully took his glasses off his face and set them on the nightstand.

“Mmmm, positive,” he said without hesitation as he traced along your arm with his eyes closed.

“Alright. Sleep well hon,” you said as you kissed his forehead and fell back into your own sleep.

Unfortunately he wasn’t quite the same after that night. He started spending longer hours in the basement. He started staring off into space noticeably more. And strangest of all he was talking to himself more. He was still the same Ford to you though, always snapping out of whatever trance he wrapped himself up into, and he was always endlessly grateful whenever you’d bring coffee or lunch down to him. He seemed revitalized in a sense though, so you didn’t want to discourage his new quirks. You finally did crack and force him to tell you what was happening when you caught him calling Fiddleford McGuckett one day.

“Stanford Pines you haven’t talked to that man since we left Backupsmore! What in the hell is going on?” you demanded with crossed arms as he hung up the phone. He opened his mouth and tried to start a sentence a few times. 

“I’m building a portal,” he finally stammered out. You raised an eyebrow. There were a few random metal supports and debris cluttered in the lab basement, but you had no inkling that’s what it was going to be used for.

“What kind…of portal?” you continued, unmoving. Ford awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and looked away again. 

“I’ve been consulting with someone. They said it would explain all the weirdness and strangeness of Gravity Falls,” he said. The room got cold when he said it.

“Who are you consulting Ford,” you asked again, trying not to overthink the way it really did feel like there was another person in the room now. 

“It was a deal. With someone, well, something, named Bill Cipher. He’s helping me with all of this. He’s a being from centuries ago, and that’s all I can really say,” he sighed, looking back at you, realizing how unsure of all of this you were. He stepped forward and held your hands in his. “I promise, it’s all okay dear. I’m being safe. This portal is what will put our names in the history books,” he said with a gentle squeeze. You looked up into his eyes and could see hope and excitement for the first time in a long time. 

“Okay…” you sighed with a small smile. Ford wrapped you into a hug and you laughed at him slightly crushing you. “Okay, okay, okay, just let me know what I can do to help huh?” you laughed with a sigh as Ford began rambling off all the next steps. 

Later that night you sat in your dark room, listening to the assorted thumps and sizzles from the basement. You could hear Ford talking to whoever this Bill person was. His high pitched shrieking of a voice was hard to miss. But you knew if you went downstairs there wouldn’t be anyone but Ford. You’d tried to catch Bill before, but to no avail. He always zapped out of existence whenever you would turn the corner. 

“Stupid to be jealous of a fuckin’ triangle,” you mumbled to yourself as you finished a glass of wine. You knew that much. That it was some sort of manic triangle. Ford had shown you that much in his journal. You walked down to your kitchen and left the glass in the sink.

“Ford! I’m going to bed!” you shouted down the stairs into the basement. You heard him scuffle and quickly run up the stairs. Your heart melted as he held your face and kissed you. 

“I’ll be there soon dearest,” he smiled. You smiled back and nodded. You were just overthinking everything. It was all going to be okay.

Fiddleford showed up a few days later and started joining Ford in the basement for long hours. Bill’s voice disappeared which was a nice break, and it was pleasant getting to talk to Fiddleford again after so many years. You would make dinner (or more often pick it up from some restaurant) and force the guys to come up and eat with you at the table. It was like you were all back in university. 

“So how long until there’s a mini Ford running around?” Fiddleford asked one night when you all decided to get into the liquor cabinet. Fiddleford was laying on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling, with you and Ford draped over the couch. Both of you reddened and avoided eye contact, unable to think of what to say.

“Well I’ve always thought I’d want to get married first,” you said, breaking the silence, “so the dress would fit, obviously,” you drunkenly giggled. Ford absentmindedly placed a hand on your knee and laughed as he took another swig of his drink. You two had talked about marriage once. Near the beginning of your relationship. You both had poor representations of marriage at your respective homes, which made you both hesitant of commitment to that scale, but you agreed to play it by ear. 4 years later you were still playing it by ear.

“What’re you WAITING FOR FORD,” Fiddleford drunkenly shouted from the floor, “We don’t have all day!” he declared before passing out in snores on the floor. You laughed and laid your head on Ford’s shoulder.

“He hasn’t changed much,” you giggled. 

“His tolerance hasn’t gotten much better either,” Ford remarked. You two both sat in silence listening to the hum of the generators. “Are you good dear?” he asked, obviously referencing Fiddleford’s outbursts.

“Yes love,” you sighed, as you closed your eyes.

It was another average drizzly pacific northwest day when shit hit the fan. You were sitting on the porch taking pictures of a deer nearby eating from a brush when the ground underneath you shook. You were used to random earthly shakings but Fiddleford quickly stormed out shortly after. 

“Fiddleford what’s-” you tried to ask as you stood up to follow after him. 

“Do NOT trust him!” he shouted as he threw open his car door, “That portal is nothing but pure evil Y/N. Get out of here while you still can,” he said with a furrowed brow before peeling away in his car. You stood in stunned silence as Ford threw the door open a few seconds later. He let out a defeated sigh as he saw Fiddleford driving away.

“What the hell did you do?!” you asked under your breath, not looking over.

“I-I don’t know,” Ford said, “he got sucked into the portal…and saw something,”.

“You’d tell me if we were in danger, right Ford?” you asked, as you finally looked over at him. He nodded silently. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, “I’m not working with Bill anymore. It’s not worth it,” he sighed as he sat on the porch and held his head in his hands. “I got blinded by the potential for fame. It’s not worth losing my friends and love over,” he said softly. You sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you sat still as the rain pattered around you. You never told him but you could feel him crying, just a little. 

Ford quickly began installing precautions to keep Bill out. He insisted on installing a plethora of metal plates around the house. He kept trying to convince you to get a metal plate installed in your head but you were able to convince him you weren’t in danger. You’d never seen Bill before. The rain turned into spring and flowers began to blossom around the yard. 

One day you were out picking them to make a bouquet for the dining table with Ford watching you on the porch. He was back to where he had been before meeting Bill, but he seemed more content. Outwardly at least. He read more, and criticized himself less. He was taking a break from reading when he saw you standing in the field picking flowers and kneeling by every animal you saw to say hello to it. At that moment he realized.

“Can we get married?” he asked, when you came back to the porch. You nearly fell backwards before jumping into Ford’s lap, knocking off his book, and smothering him in kisses.

“Of course we can Ford,” you said through your kisses.

It was a short turnaround. The next week Ford had found his suit and you had gotten a wedding dress from town. It was long and flowing and got Ford’s approval for having renaissance-esque sleeves and details, which made you roll your eyes a little. You two didn’t know anyone else in town well enough to invite them to a ceremony, and neither of you wanted to invite family. Ford felt guilty about having nobody so he invited the colony of gnomes in exchange for hors d’oeuvres. So that’s what was determined. You were able to scrounge up enough random chairs to have a few spots for them to sit with you and Ford facing each other in front. You had done your makeup and hair, which was the first time Ford had ever really seen you try to do something with your hair which left him slack jawed. All of the gnomes also oohed and awed when you stepped out. You smiled when you faced Ford. The two of you agreed to exchange vows and then you’d sign the marriage certificate and turn it in the next day at the courthouse. 

You bit your lip and opened your mouth to start when the ground shook and the string lights you had hung up went out. The power inside the house went out entirely. 

“Peculiar,” Ford said under his breath. 

“Just a moment folks, we’ll be right back after a few messages,” you said, trying to keep the crowd happy, “take a snack break,” you said, gesturing to the table of random snacks you’d gotten for them all. 

“I can turn the breaker back on downstairs,” Ford said as he stepped into the house.

“Here I think I have the flashlight,” you said as you thumped the flashlight you kept in the utensil drawer. It flickered to life. Ford took a second and nodded. The two of you made your way downstairs to the lab basement, Ford supplying a six-fingered hand to hold to make sure you didn’t trip. 

Once downstairs it was obvious that something was wrong. The portal was still up and whirring. A haze of blue swirls in its center.

“Ford I thought you turned this off,” you said.

“I couldn’t just- turn it off,” he mumbled under his breath rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s been months of work. I figured leaving it running and able to be returned to would be…fine,” he said sheepishly. You chewed the inside of your cheek, looking at it. He had a point, but it was also a memento to losing his dearest friend. Research be damned.

“Ford, I need to know you’re looking to the future and not staying in the past if we get married,” you said, feeling guilty about the ultimatum, but knowing it was the only way. He pushed up his glasses and nodded.

“You’re right,” he said, “besides, there’ll be something better than this piece of junk,”. He pushed the button on a platform and the portal quickly fizzled and closed in on itself, leaving the room engulfed in darkness for a second before the lights flickered back on overhead. 

“Hey look at that,” you remarked, looking up, “bet our electricity bill is about to get a lot lower mister,” you smirked as you tapped Ford’s chest.

“Stanford, you didn’t tell me she had a sense of humor!” a sickeningly familiar voice said. Ford quickly pushed you behind him as you both turned to see the floating triangle form of Bill Cipher in the air. It was your first time seeing the thing that had taken up so much of Ford’s time.

“Bill, why are you here? The deal’s off,” Ford shouted.

“I can’t believe I didn’t get an invite to the wedding! Keeping it intimate with just friends and family I see,” Bill continued on his own as his eye contorted into a video of the gnomes outside waiting.

“Answer the question Bill,” Ford demanded. You hadn’t seen him ever get this serious. 

“Well Fordsy you broke our deal, but don’t worry, there’s a way to get it back on track!” Bill’s voice pinged through the basement, “Y’see, you take something I love-” he said, blinking into the now empty space of the portal. You gripped Ford’s forearm.

“Ford I’m scared-” you said softly.

“I think it’s only fair if I take something you love,” Bill chirped, appearing in front of you two again.

“Don’t you dare Bill,” Ford shouted as he held your hand. 

“Not convincing! Boop!” Bill’s voice pinged and with that, you were gone. 

One moment you were on Earth, in your universe, and the next thing you knew you were falling through space and time, seeing eons of other planets pass by as you floated through free fall. 

After what felt like decades of falling through nothingness, but also everything, you slammed into the dirt of an apocalyptic planet. You grunted as you lifted yourself up, seeing the smoky, forgotten landscape stretch out in front of you. 

Fuck.

Back in the basement, millions of universes and timelines away, Ford screamed at Bill. 

“What did you do to her?!”.

“I evened the deal, Stanford calm down!” Bill responded, rolling his single eye, “besides she was getting in the way of your work, you should be thanking me,”. 

After that, Ford’s world changed. He installed a metal plate in his head to keep Bill out for good and got serious about trying to hide how to reinstall the portal. He hid his journals throughout the town and decided to call his brother to properly take care of the last one. Take it so far that nobody would ever find it. He’d get you back on his own. He’d figure it out. He just couldn’t let Bill ever get the satisfaction of the portal. 

There was a knock on the door and Ford kicked it open, crossbow aimed. It was his brother. He breathed out a sigh of relief and dragged him in.

“Damn what happened to this place? What happened to your woman Ford?” Stan asked, looking around the now cluttered house.

“He took my wife, and I need to make sure he doesn’t take anything else from anyone else,” Ford muttered, “listen there isn’t much time and I’ve made a huge mistake. I don’t know who I can trust anymore,”.

“Hey easy there let’s talk this through okay?” Stan said as he looked around the house, slowly realizing his brother may be crazy.

“I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe,” Ford sighed as he turned to face his brother.

“Look, I’ve been around the world okay? Whatever you’re going to show me I’ll understand,” Stan shrugged.

It was safe to say Stan did not understand. And Stan did not understand when Ford shoved the journal into his chest demanding his brother to take it to the ends of the earth to hide. 

It was safe to say that you and Ford were both tumbling through endless dimensions together, but also so far apart.

[transbookoftheday]

Trans Horror Podcasts

My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.

If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!

Hello From The Hallowoods:

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!

Trans main characters include:

our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host

a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"

a transmasc ghost

a genderfluid storm witch

a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams

multiple characters using neopronouns

Camp Here & There:

Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!

Sydney is a trans man.

Dos: After You:

Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish

Deck is a trans man.

Jar of Rebuke:

Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.

Jared is nonbinary.

Spirit Box Radio:

Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.

Sam is a trans man.

The Silt Verses:

Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.

Faulkner is a trans man and Paige is a trans woman.

The Magnus Protocol:

The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.

Alice is a trans woman.

[thatmooncake]

Alrighty folks, new year new DCA server!

Okay so we’ve seen a lot of lonely/socially awkward/new DCA fans looking for a place to talk to others and me and @flinxypie who kindly helped build this server are hoping this could be a fun place where we can coax each other out of our shells or at least spend a little while going pssppssppssssp with cat treats in an attempt to lure each other out from under the fandom sofa. The chat’s name is as of yet undecided (to be confirmed once poll results are in) but don’t let that stop you from joining along if you’re interested!

Here’s the link: https://discord.gg/4SYgUdW7Qc

This is a place to make friends where we embrace our awkwardness, our loneliness, and maybe we do it scared but we do it anyway (don’t worry, you’re in good company!). We don’t want to put anyone up on a pedestal out of other people’s reach or have fandom in general be a big competition or grind to get “famous” or stay “relevant”, just a fun space where we’re all equally silly little guys and get to talk about fun things we collectively like and have fun doing it at our own pace.

We plan on doing throwback days for older art, we have channels where you can adopt or be adopted by new friends (a little attention seeking is good and fine actually if you’re willing to give as good as you get) or if all words are failing you you can talk in meows or pictures or one word sentences in one of our quiet channels if you wish (fun fact: there are a surprising number of house cats and cryptids in the DCA fandom). Be a part of some silly fun art/writing trades, magmas or themed art/reblog chains and let’s all draw ourselves with our AU versions or do picrews (We also want to bring back the DCA sleepovers and interaction chains because those looked fun!) along with a bunch more stuff we likely haven’t thought of yet!

Everybody is welcome, lurkers are loved, and new friends are eagerly anticipated - let’s do this! 🎠

[cricket-of-the-hill]

So what's the deal with Fiddleford McGucket? Why's he like that?

Fiddleford as a character is so FUN because he's so complicated and tragic and honestly a little pathetic. On one hand you have this absolutely brilliant scientist with the potential to have been the in universe Steve Jobs who figured out that the universe is a hologram and built an honest to betsy transdimensional portal (with Ford's help, yes, but let's be honest: as mathematically brilliant as Ford was, I think his intelligence laid more in the theoretical side of things, really doubt he could have actually built the portal himself).

On the other hand, we have this man who up and leves his FAMILY to chase after a college friend who calls him one day saying "hey, I'm out in Oregon building a portal to another dimension. Little help?" and he doesn't even think twice before being like "bet" and getting his ass to Oregon. And even if you take in the context clues that things weren't going well with his marriage before he left (as pieced together by the brilliant @divorcedfiddleford in this post), he still had his son and McGucket Computermajigs and he just sets all that aside for this guy, which... 😶

I am gonna write this whole post on the assumption that Fiddleford was in love with Ford, but look, even if that's the case it doesn't make any of his actions less unhinged. Break here, because the post gets kinda long 😶‍🌫️

So here's the thing: in the fandom, it's fun to think that Fidds knew about Bill and they had some sort of taunting rivalry/love triangle thing going on and that's really fun to mess with, but FIDDLEFORD HAD NO IDEA ABOUT BILL. Ford never told him! So even if Fidds leaves California thinking he's gonna have his hot girl summer/queer arthouse romcom where he reconnects with the love of his youth and they spend the summer working in this secluded house in the woods where they can finally live out their romance, what he actually gets is a fucking psychological horror thriller where the guy he loves and is kinda trapped with is either slowly going insane or straight up getting possessed.

Now, all that is 😵‍💫 enough, but it gets worse because instead of doing the normal person thing and getting the hell out of Dodge, Fiddleford stays. He continues to help Ford to build the portal despite how weird the other man is getting, he continues to go cryptid hunting even after the nightmare goblin almost eats him, even if Ford clearly doesn't appreciate the work he does (research assistant? Not even partner? Come on), and never reciprocates the kind of gestures Fidds has towards him (like the infamous double Christmas gift bonanza).

Here's where the duality of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket kicks in: the thing is that he is incredibly brave in some ways and obviously really smart but also kind of a coward and an idiot when it comes to his relationships with others. He'll hit Thee Krampus upside the head with his banjo one day to save his friend and run away to Oregon instead of discussing divorce with this wife the next. He will leave everything he knows to pursue this one guy, but he will never ever ever confess to feeling anything other than friendship towards him. He'll put up with Stanford's creepy as all hell behavior but will never confront him about it even as Ford loses more and more of himself into his project (so no little intervention not even to help this man he's giving so much up for). Like, what was he expecting to get out of all this? If he was never planning to confess to Ford or leave his wife, what was he going to do once the portal was completed? Just keep on bouncing between wherever Ford went next and his family? Did he really think his wife and son wouldn't mind him leaving them behind without so much as a thought?

Operating under the assumption that Fiddleford is a closeted queer guy from rural Deep Down South Hillbilly County Tennessee (said with love, I'm also from the south, but we all know what homophobia looks like here) during the '80s (height of the aids pandemic which would have made everything worse) one can maybe understand why Fiddleford is like that. Why he is so so so afraid and why he ultimately chooses to erase his memories rather than just go back to his family.

So picture this: you are in love with your best friend but you can't tell him 'cause best case scenario he leaves you out to dry and worst case scenario maybe someone finds your boots down by the river and lets your parents know (and we know Ford is sweet and fruity himself and with a thing for outcasts and would never. Fiddleford probably knows that himself, but let me tell you that when you grow up with that fear it goes deep. Because you've most likely seen people who are kind get absolutely bent out of shape when confronted with the mere idea of someone like you existing in their near vicinity). Eventually, you get married and have a son because that is what you were supposed to do all along and even though you love your son and maybe even love your wife everything feels wrong. They expect you to be something you are not, you can never let your guard down, never be yourself, not even in your own home. So then that call comes and it's like a golden thicket: you can leave, give it a rest for a little while, go see your friend, stretch out those inventing muscles.

As much as the fandom clowns him for it, I honestly don't even think he went out there with the intention of cheating (emotionally or otherwise). BUT I do think he was hoping something would happen. It's just that it all depended on Ford taking that first step because Fidds sure as hell wouldn't. And then Ford didn't because he was too busy doing the sin cos tan with his trigonometry homework, but if he had, we could have had a brokenback mountain situation on our hands, lads. Then Fiddleford could have just gone along with it, and done all sorts of mind parkour to convince himself that that's somehow less bad than "outright" cheating on his wife.

So he gets to the cabin, right? And maybe things are good for a little while, like when they were in college. Fiddleford lets loose a little, Ford is happy with the company, they're friends! And I get the sense that they're the kind of friends that mesh really well, like their energies really match. As much as the fandom paints Fiddleford like a sweet cinnamon roll, that man is also a freak. He's out here building psychotic post divorce revenge pterodactyl robots and drinking abducted cow milk just to see what it's like. He's a bit unhinged! He and Ford are the two people in the world that can be like "I think the universe is a hologram." "Cool! Let's prove it mathematically, bro" and "I want to build a portal to another dimension. Just cause." "Catching a ride to your place with my toolbox as we speak, buddy." (My own personal head cannon is that Fiddleford didn't really become such a shaky jelly until the nightmare goblin got him. Like, he was never as adventurous as Ford, but I think before that particular traumatizing event he was all right for it).

Anyways, things are good for a bit, but the real world is still out there. Fiddleford has to make trips home every now and then, and every time he comes back it seems like something is different. A little off. At first it's nothing big, just a smile a little sharper than usual, a coldness in a look, Ford calling him "Specs" where before he was always a variation of his name. Then it's pointed comments that Fidds chalks up to a lack of sleep (is Ford even sleeping at all? Because he could have sworn for the past three nights he he has appeared in the same place Fidds left him when he went to sleep). Then it's a flash of yellow eyes, a maniacal laugh that Ford never used to make before, spells where he seemingly forgets how to use his body (bumps into things, tries to drink soda with his eyes?). As time goes on it starts to become more and more obvious that something is seriously wrong with this friend. And things back home are just getting worse and worse, Emma May isn't happy about Fiddleford skipping town so often, Tate wont stop asking for him, and look, was Fiddleford even making money while he was with Ford? He gettin' paid? Is Emma May back home trying to bring home the bacon while virtually single parenting? (How was Ford even supporting himself while studying anomalies? I can't imagine there's a lot of grants for that.)

But Fiddleford can't leave his friend and he can't really own up to how much messier things are at home because of this whole thing. So he keeps coming back to Gravity Falls, where he also can't really face up to Ford and either demand a clear answer as to what is going on or try to get him some help (an exorcist, maybe). Because if he does say something and Ford decides that he doesn't want Fiddleford around asking questions he's gonna have to go back home where after the Christmas thing he's honestly not sure he's really wanted anymore, not really sure he deserves it if he still was. So he keeps on doing his thing, telling himself "this is fine 🙂," while he sits in a room on fire with a bill-possessed Ford hanging from the ceiling like a spider and an disapproving Emma May looking in through a window.

I think the portal incident was what finally opened his eyes to the reality of his situation, in an ironic way. He destroyed his relationship with his wife and left his son for nothing. Left his own dreams and aspirations aside just to find out that when push comes to shove his opinion and well-being matter so little to this man he was ready to break the laws of physics for. He can't stay with Ford, and he sure as hell can't go back home, because that would mean having to face that he's done burned down all his bridges. So where do you go from there? Let me tell you, if I had the chance to forget the lowest, most selfish, stupid thing I did for a person who didn't even notice it, I'd do it in a second.

[marshmellohi]

Links Meet AUs List

A lot of AUs get lumped together with Linked Universe, so I wanted to make a list comprising any and all original Links Meet AUs I could find! Please let me know if I’m missing something, you want your AU to be removed, a link is broken, or if you know an AU’s status so it can be moved to the correct dedicated category.

DISCLAIMER: Please pay attention to the content warnings on some of these AUs! I haven’t personally read every AU so I don’t know what some contain, but if an AU has something you don’t vibe with, there are more than plenty of others that you will love on this list! Please be respectful and kind to everyone! This list is both for archival purposes and to appreciate the creativity of the community!

Additional Notes: Some AUs have dedicated Tumblrs, some can be found through original tags, some are only on ff.net or ao3, etc. I have a separate list for AUs limited to Discord/DMs that I have not included here unless I receive permission to do so! Also, if something is separated by ||, that means that theyre 2(+) separate AUs by the same creator in the same tumblr… if that makes sense LOL. This list is Always Updating so be sure to keep an eye out for any new AUs!

PUBLIC

• A Link to the Present

• Across the Galaxy

• Ageless Soul

• Bonus Links

• Branching Timelines

• Chain as Cryptids

• Chained Spirits

• Chains of Time

• Courage of Ages

• Culture Shock

• Deuy’s Links Meet

• Dimensional Links

• Dreamverse AU || Identity Fraud AU

• Echoes of Courage

• Exodus

• Fallen Heroes

• Garden of Heroes

• GodLinks

• Hearts Linked Together

• Heroes Spirit

• House of Heroes

• Kings Comic

• Limited Hero

• Link and the Links || Soldier Poet King

• Link Between Links

• Link Rejoin

• Linked Across Dimensions

• Linked Arena

• Linked By Illustrations

• Linked Dreamscape

• Linked End

• Linked History

• Linked Keys

• Linked Maze

• Linked Spirit

• Linked Through the Centuries

• Linked Universe

• Linked World

• Link’s Fun Road Trip

• Little Links

• Magic’s Wake

• Meowmix’s Linked-verse Journey

• Minas Linkverse

• Monstrous Fusion

• Realms of Hylia

• Recalled

• Rifts in Time

• Sister’s Linked Meets

• Suncaster

• Tangled Chains [Lou]

• Team Timeless

• That Broken Promise

• The Hyrulian Valhalla Saga

• The Links We Share

• The Phantom Timeline

• The Sacred Realm

• Too Many Links [Zee]

• Train Whistles and Wedding Bells

• Winter Links AU

PRIVATE

AUs where the info is limited to Discord, DMs, and/or friends. Not typically published/shared publicly. Permission is asked to acknowledge these AUs here before posting.

• A Linked Week

• Fractured Timelines

NON-LINK BUT THEY STILL MEET

Crossovers with Zeldas, Ravios, Ganons… pretty much the exact same thing but with other characters.

• Lots of Ravios

• LU Ravioverse

• Strangers Across Eras

• Voice of Wisdom

• Wielders of Wisdom

LINKMEET LITE

Links meet, but it’s not the focus of the story/in the background (example: a world where all the links exist at the same time but the focus is on one specific character/the others dont come up much)

• Father of Time

• Royal Reads

INACTIVE/DEAD

An AU qualifies for the inactive category when: 1.) its been 2+ years since an update and 2.) it’s unfinished; or, 3.) the creator explicitly stated that they were discontinuing it. LMK if one still has a pulse!

• Into the Zeldaverse

• Link and the Links

• Linked By Time

• Linking Together

• Misfortunate Monsters

• Tangled Chains

• Zelda in the Multiverse

UNSURE/MIA

AUs where I am unsure of the status and thus need to contact the creator, the creator’s deciding where to go with it, or I can’t locate the original page. This is mostly for me- consider this kind of like a ‘to do’ list. Any insight is welcome!

• Bagel’s AU (N/C)

• Birdo’s AU (U)

• Cotty’s Linkverse (N/C)

• Chain Reaction AU (Nuked)

• Factorial’s AU (N/C)

• Fortu’s AU (N/C)

• Hyrule Bound (N/C ; Iirc there was a fanfiction but I can’t find it anywhere)

• Link Madness’ AU (N/C)

• Minty’s Linkverse (U)

• Missing Links in Time (U)

[connorsbonez]

Stalkers and Cryptids

Meeting the Bat Family

1. Danny

Since him and Wes got together with Tim at the same-ish time, it was decided that they’d get introduced to the family one at a time before going together, and for some reason, Danny got chosen to be the first to go.

It went surprisingly well! The siblings loved him (at least, they think Damien does, maybe Danny will have to convince him through the means of Cujo) and it took Bruce a moment but he came around

Duke thought Tim managed to bring the personified sun into the house at first before realizing ‘oh, it’s a person’ and switched to ‘what the fuck is up with you’, pulling out some sunglasses before asking Danny who straight faced told Duke that he ate a lot of glow sticks as a kid.

Duke asked what they tasted like.

Cass and Danny stared at each other for five minutes before nodding and continuing on like nothing happened.

Steph and Danny had to be physically separated and it was agreed to never leave those two alone. No matter the circumstances. Tim is terrified and rightfully so.

So everything was going pretty great.

And then dinner happened.

Fenton Curse reared its ugly head in the form of Danny accidentally touching the chicken with his bare hands. He barely got in an apology before the chicken jolted upwards in vengeful fury and dragged everyone into a recreation of the Cold War. Food was splattered on everything and everyone, the table was flipped to the side in an effort to be used as a shield, screams of the damned as the chicken descended upon them with a large butcher knife, something was on fire, and Alfred was loading up his shotgun crouched behind the table with Danny on one side and Bruce on the other looking like he was astral projecting but not at the same time.

It was agreed that this dinner was never to be spoken of. Ever.

Danny wore gloves from now on when he came over for a meal of any kind.

Dick had to wear a hat for a bit after the chicken managed to take off some of his hair, leaving a bald spot (Steph tried to shave his head completely to ‘even it out’)

2. Wes

They waited two months before bringing Wes to the manor and after what happened with Danny, the family was a touch more wary. Dick jokingly(ish) asked if Wes would bring anything alive, he replied with ‘Not unless you pay me’ and didn’t elaborate further.

You’d think they’d calm down after interacting with Wes for a bit because it wasn’t like he was horrible, he meshed well with the others and they could find themselves genuinely liking Wes if not for a small little thing or two. It was going too well. Wes seemed to know how to interact with all of them, barely making any mistakes that came with interacting with new people, it was off putting to the vigilantes. (Except Tim, he didn’t notice a thing odd about it)

Along with the fact that the ginger seemed to sometimes ask very…interesting questions that made the others pause. Wes can’t help himself when it comes to knowing things about people that he’s talking too, he held off this long and now he can’t help but slide in a few questions and comments here and there…just to see if they notice.

Wes could acknowledge that he found it a little funny how much he was driving the Waynes up the wall.

Bruce kept staring at Tim, as if trying to telepathically get answers from him. Tim pretended not to notice his gaze.

Someone tried to give the shovel talk and Wes responded by saying their credit card information in a deadpan tone.

This visit also somehow managed to go to hell, this one didn’t even make it to dinner. The disaster kicked off with Wes and Damian, no one is quite sure what was said but it ended with an absolute cat fight, with Dick holding back Damian who had a bruise already blooming on his lower jaw and Jason holding back Wes who had a small knife lodged into his thigh and promptly bit Jason when he abruptly grabbed the ginger.

Jason later got checked for rabies.

Wes refused to give the knife back, having left with it still in his thigh. (Danny got it out and was unsurprised by the series of events when told.)

(Batman definitely went to their apartment later that night.)

3. Bernard

This wasn’t the first time he met the Wayne Family but it was the first time he’d be meeting them as Tim’s boyfriend instead of just friend.

So obviously the meeting went find, they already knew who Bernard was so it wasn’t a get to know you meeting but a shovel talk meeting + meeting the third boyfriend

Bernard was the only one really intimidated by the shovel talks

Most peaceful night, Bernard told some of his theories during dinner, including how Superman, Batman, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, and Lex Luther were in a polygamy relationship. Jason was dying (metaphorically this time) during dinner as well as the other siblings, Bruce not so much and Damian tried to act like he didn’t find it funny (Dick swears he did).

He was the only one Bruce didn’t feel the need to heavily research. (Because he already did that when he and Tim first became friends)

( I kinda hate this but whatever, it’s been in the drafts for far too long. )

[oosleepyfaeoo]

A Kiss Is All I Need

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader Chapter Three

Summary: 2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. 2 months crying and feeling like shit but that all stopped when he meet you on that dreadful clothing store.

Words: 2k A/n: Ok ngl i kinda hate this chapter T^T I've rewrite it so many times and i still don't like it but i think it's better than the other versions. Also the series will be bigger >.> I think i will add 2 or 3 more chapters.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Taglist: @zenka69@cryptid-l0ver@saelwen-shy-elf@aemondsdelight@shari-berri@kckt88@watercolorskyy @dae7tina@saturnssrings@dixie-elocin @arabis-world@tulips2715@reedmurdock@ladythornofrivia@tssf-imagines @eeeeeevesstuff@venmondiese@bellaisasleep@darylandbethfanforever9@snh96@liv-cole @a-beaverhausen

A huff fell from your lips as you walked up the stairs to your apartment. The moment you saw Aemond’s card, you ran into your office to reread his resume. Desperately to see if you maybe missed something but there was nothing that mentioned the famous Targaryen name.

The Targaryen family is one if not the only, most powerful House in all Westeros. They come from royalty, inherited with old money. You only knew the basics from this ancient family since you didn’t like to read or watch news or drama from celebrities. You think you only heard Aemond’s name once when the news of his relationship with an older woman came out.

Aemond seems a private person so that’s probably why you didn’t hear much about him.

Why would he give his business card if he didn’t want you to know who he was? It didn’t make any sense!

Because he knew I wouldn’t have hired him if I knew the truth before the interview.

You sigh, putting your keys on your door lock and opening it. You were greeted by the sound of your daughter squealing and laughing which made a smile grow on your face.

Putting your bag on a small table beside the front door, you walk into your small but cozy apartment, and you are met by the view of your daughter sitting on the sofa while Aemond sits in front of her on the floor. Letting the small girl play with his long hair.

A giggle fell from your lips as you stared at the ‘beautiful’ hairstyle that your daughter made. One ponytail on the right side of his head, which is held by a hot pink hair tie full of glitter, and two small braids falling on his shoulders.

Emily notices you by the door and jumps in excitement. “Mommy! Look! I tried to do a... val-valryian?” She tried her hardest to say the word but failed which made Aemond chuckle.

“Valyrian.” He corrects her.

“Yes! I tried to make a valyrian hairstyle... but I think it didn’t go well.” She pouts while looking at Aemond’s hair.

You walked to her and gently kissed her head. “It’s perfect, sweetheart.” You took a seat beside her on the sofa. “Did you have fun today?”

Emily nods and smiles. “Yes! We went to the park and ate ice cream there! And then Aem took me to a toy shop and bought me this plushie!” She grabs the green dragon plushie beside her and shows you. “Her name is Vhagar! Aem told me that he once had a BIG lizard named Vhagar so I decided to name it after her.”

“That’s a gorgeous name, Em. Did you thank Aemond for the plushie?” You raise your brow to your daughter as she hugs Vhagar.

The girl nods. “Of course, mommy!”

You smile and pat her head. “Good. Now go clean your toys so we can go eat dinner.”

Emily quickly stood up from the sofa and ran to her room, picking up toys and plushies from the floor on her way there.

Aemond also stood up, pulling down the side ponytail that Emily had done but left the two braids on which were hidden a little by the rest of his hair. He looks down at you and smirks.

“You have a lovely home, Y/n.”

A blush spreads on your cheeks. The way his voice sounds so husky and gentle. His little smirk and the way his eye trails down your form almost made your knees give up.

“Thank you.” You say while folding an orange blanket on the sofa, trying to distract yourself from the handsome man in front of you. “Look Aemond... We need to talk.” You sigh and take a seat on the sofa, Aemond following your lead.

“About?” He asks, frowning in confusion.

You took out his business card from your pocket. “About you being Aemond TARGARYEN! About you coming from a freaking famous and ancient family. And the fact that you left that part out of your resume.” You rest your head in your hands. “Why would you need this job, Aemond?... I doubt it’s because of money.”

He closed his eye and sighed. “I know I should have told you but to be fair, I thought you would notice... You know, the silver hair.” He says while pointing to his hair.

You look down at your hands and let out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re right. I should have noticed that obvious part but in fairness, I rarely watch news or drama.”

He hums in knowledge. “Look, this wasn’t my idea. It was Aegon.” He starts playing with his fingers as his nerves begin to spike up. “I’m in a really bad place right now and my brother thought that if he got me to babysit one of the sweetest kids in the world, it would make me feel better... And I think he was right.”

A smile appears on your lips as a soft smile forms on his thin lips when he talks about Emily. Sighing, you rub your hands together. “Will it be dangerous for Emily if you continue to babysit her?”

Aemond frowns at your words. “Dangerous?”

“Yes, dangerous... Paparazzies, media, etc.” You look into his eye, trying to see if there are any worries that he might be hiding. “I don’t want Emily or me to get unwanted attention.”

Aemond grabs your hand and rubs gently his thumb on your skin. “I swear you and Emily are safe. No media or paparazzi will find you.” He says with a serious face. “I’m a very private person and I have contacts that will keep your life private from the world... so don’t worry, Y/n.”

You nod and sigh in relief. “Okay... Alright, alright.”

The last thing you want right now is an army of paparazzi on your door or following you around and fake stupid stories about you and Emily on the news. You bet Nat would be thrilled and say that you should take this as an opportunity (or take advantage) to grow your business. But of course, you wouldn’t do that. You want your business to flourish on its own and by your work, not by 15 minutes of fame because of Aemond.

His hand squeezes yours gently. Your heart feels like it is going to burst from your chest at the tiny and sweet smile that Aemond gives you. The things you would sacrifice to taste his lips.

For fuck's sake, Y/n. Get a grip!

“All done, mommy!” Emily reappears in the living room, dressed in her pajamas.

You stood up and walked to the kitchen to cook dinner while Emily took a seat beside Aemond, wanting to show him her favorite cartoon show.

After a few minutes, Aemond stood up which made Emily pout. “Well, i think it’s time for me to go.” He leans down and places a kiss on the girl’s head. “See you tomorrow, little princess.”

Emily pouts and grabs his arm. “Please stay a little longer! Eat dinner with us. Mommy is a really good cooker!”

“I don’t want to bother. I-”

“Nonsense! Come, eat with us.” You interrupted him. “I hope you like pasta tho.” You the pot in the middle of the table as Emily went to grab her favorite juice.

Aemond took a seat at the table, humming in pleasure at the amazing smell of your cooking. “I love it.”

From that day, Aemond took the habit of eating dinner with you and Emily. Months go by and you three have got into a healthy routine. You would drive Emily to her school and go to work, and by lunchtime, Aemond would pick her up and take her to the park to play or to his sister’s apartment. Emily and Helaena’s kids become fast friends really quick and at least once a week, Emily goes to spend the night or day with them.

You and Aemond got also close. He would spend a few hours talking to you while drinking wine when Emily was in bed asleep. You two shared some stories from the past, him talking about how he spent the rest of his childhood isolated after the accident when he lost his eye. And you about how hard was to be a single mother at a young age, how Emily’s father just disappeared after her birth and never tried to know or pay child support.

Aemond was quite angry with your ex’s choice of actions, which was understandable, saying if he ever saw that bastard, he would show your ex the consequences of being an irresponsible bastard.

As days pass, you find yourself falling and falling for your daughter's babysitter. You can’t help but feel attracted to him. Aemond was everything a woman would want in a man. Handsome, charming, smart, and good with kids.

Your thoughts are always on him, and your dreams are plagued by his lips and hands. You know that you and he would never work, since both of you are from different worlds. Him being literally from royalty and you are just a simple common woman with a cute bakery.

////

“And then, me and Vhagar would fly away and explore the world!” Emily finishes her tale while showing Aemond her plushie dragon that was ‘flying’ in her hands.

Aemond just picked her up from school and took her to the park since it was a lovely day and she also begged him to go.

Aemond chuckles and gives her a sipping cup of apple juice. “And what about mommy and me? Would you leave us behind?” He faked a pout which made the girl’s eyes wide in surprise.

“Of course not! I would take you both with me!” She takes a sip of her juice and then grins at him. “We would fly to Dragonstone so you and Mommy could marry like the old Valyrian people did!”

Aemond almost chokes on his water. “W-What?” He coughs, trying to breathe normally.

Emily gives him a side-eye. “Oh please. I know you and Mommy like each other.” She takes another sip from her juice while Aemond just looks at her in shock. “You two are always sending weird looks to each other. And I heard Aegon saying that you are always eating mommy with your gaze... I don’t know what that means, but it must be good.”

“Emily!” Aemond was now red as a tomato. That’s it! That’s the last time he lets Aegon hang around with him while Emily is there.

The girl just shrugs. “Mommy likes you too, you know... I’ve never seen her so happy since you both met.” She gives her cup to Aemond and jumps down from the bench. “You should ask Mommy for a date!”

And with that, she runs off to the swings to play with the other kids in the park. Aemond just stood there with a cup of apple juice in his hand, his eye wide in shock at the small girl's words. She sounded so comfortable with the idea of him and you married.

Sighing, he puts the sipping cup on the bag and then looks back to where Emily was playing.

“Maybe the kid is right.”  

[sapphicseasapphire]

A bit of a redesign for Cryptid Twilight! This is the real one I promise (until I change it again). Everything from the original character sheet is still true, just like… pretend that his outfit is different.

I based this one off of his Ordon outfit since I liked it (seriously, Ordon clothes and Skyloft clothes go SO hard. I would wear them) but I still wanted to keep the green tunic that he got during his adventure. Classic Link stuff. Also I put his hair up so we can actually see his facial markings since they’re very important to his character. If he ever needs to hide them though, he’ll let his bangs fall over his forehead.

More Twi lore under the cut!

In my au, those with markings on their face have the powers of a God. I’m going to make an origin story for him at some point, but in the mean time have this:

• Twi was orphaned at a young age. Like, very young. He was a toddler when he was found wandering the woods outside of Ordon Village.

• No one really knows where he comes from. Or what he is. He acted like a normal child so the people of Ordon didn’t hesitate to take care of him, though it was a shock when he started shifting!

• He has no designated father figure or mother figure. Instead, he was raised communally by the people of Ordon. Loved like a son by every one of them and he loved them all just the same. He’d cycle through their houses until he was old enough to have his own. He’s great with children and animals and has the biggest family of all of the Links.

• He can only take the shape of animals that he’s seen before. So he cannot change his face to appear as a different Hylian or turn into a different cryptid. As a child, he shifted less often because he hadn’t seen many animals to imitate.

• If my understanding is correct, in Twilight Princess, Link turns into a wolf because he is in possession of the Triforce of Courage. This turns him into a beast instead of a spirit like everyone else when he’s forced into the Twilight. And then he’s cursed, stuck in that form for a while before he can meet the spirits and their light. Right? So for my au, the same kind of thing happens. Only, instead of him involuntarily being turned into a wolf, the curse is that he cannot change his shape. And even when the curse is “lifted,” he can only pick between two forms: Hylian or wolf. It is not until the very end that he gets his powers back.

• Midna.

• No one knows how or why he has the ability to shift. They don’t know if he was born or created. If he started as Hylian and then became something entirely different or if he was always a cryptid. But I, as the creator, can tell you that he has the ability to shift because he has the blood of a God in his veins. He is Time’s direct descendant. There’s more to this! But I’ll save it for the origin story. (Whenever I get around to writing it haha)

[whereserpentswalk]

Somewhere out there within the dark woods of somewhere or another, in days some time past, there was a town. And that town worshipped one god, and that god was a hole.

Yes, a massive hole, at the center of their town. Deep and dark, perhaps leading all the way down to oblivion. Some people said the god lived at the bottom of the hole, others said that the god was the hole itself, or even the shadows that lay within. They had no temples, no alters, only the hole. And the hole of the hole demanded things of them. It was hungry, strangely hungry. It did not have sacfices, it demanded tribute. Taxes in a way. People would scrounge up what little money they had for the hole, and the hole promised back that it would give them good things in return.

There were those who warned them of the hole. The cryptids of the dark forest, and the occultists and demon hunters, and even the deep ones that lay in the dark ocean and the scaled men of the forgotten ruins. But the townsfolk didn't listen, the hole made them feel good. It felt good to give it money. And even though they never exactly saw how the hole must have been helping them. How could it not be helping them if they had given it so much. And soon the hole banished all supernatural things but itself, and the people said the hole was making them safe.

And soon the hole was bigger. What was once the size of a well had grown to being big enough to consume a house. And soon the town changed, the hole began to be its center, the entire town shifted so that all public life was around the hole. And soon those who didn't like the hole, or who questioned it, where seen as evil or strange people, greedy for not wanting to give the hole their money, they were seen as selfish and entitled, entitled to all the hole's benefits without paying their share. It was a tragedy when someone grew up to move out of the town and not follow the hole.

And soon the hole had more and more demands. And everyone listened as it grew larger and larger. Soon it didn't want money, it wanted things too, televisions, automobiles, books, family relics, grandma's ashes, works of art, perhaps even beloved pets. And it became taboo not just to question it, but to feel sad when you lost something to the hole. You couldn't say you missed it, or replace it too soon, the hole wanted you to not have it, you were so obviously wrong to miss it. You didn't just have to give to the hole, you had to understand that it was improving your life.

There was a movement of young people, who wanted to get rid of the hole. But it was too late by then, they had no other gods, no other spirits or creatures, and the hole was as large as a city block. And either way, the town police belonged to the hole now, and they would kill for it, and they would die for it. Some young rebels moved away. But most found themselves not being able to give up their family, their freinds, and their safety to fight the hole. So for a time they pretended to like it, and when you do something, and say something for long enough it can become your truth, and soon enough those who pretended to live the hole truly did love it.

And soon there was no music or movies that the hole didn't approve of. Everyone followed the hole's rules. And everyone loved the hole so dearly and so brightly. They couldn't imagine a town without a hole. When they thought of other towns they imagined that they must have had holes too, and every idea of a place without it was sad and depressing. And as the hole was then a quarter of the size of the town, it was hungry, and demanded not just things but flesh. And people happily gave, it would be weird to not want to give. They gave eyes, ears, teeth, testicles, tounges, fingers and toes and hands and feet and arms and legs. And they didn't miss their body parts at all. And when one day the hole demanded people jump in, and give their lives to it, they didn't mind or question at all, it didn't feel like death, and nobody missed that they weren't there.

And now, in the dark woods, there is a hole where a town used to be. It has eaten the entire the thing, every last inch and citizen of it. It is not satisfied. But it has grown all that it could. And one must wonder if the hole is lonely now, or if it knows that it has done all it ever hoped to.

[threepandas]

Always Listening: Yandere Present Mic

[Tracked down uncropped version! Art by @moromi100] ‐-----‐---------------------------------------------------------‐------------------------------------------------------------

It starts and you didn't notice. Almost no one in Japan did. Outside of the smartest sentient being on Japanese soil and the living cat-loving cryptid of the underground? No one was intelligent enough, observant enough, and CLOSE enough, to see the surprisingly subtle... hitch in behaviors.

Like a stumbled step. A fumble. The tiniest little twitch that gives away the lie.

It smoothed out immediately, of course, that next step graceful. The smile just as cheerful as ever. Only two sets of eyes SAW. Noted. And considered. What to do, what to do? Do they care enough to interfere? Is this interesting? Will it make one of THEIR'S happy?

It would.

So they did nothing. They could have. Should have. They are supposed to be Heros. And yet...

It starts and you don't notice. It builds and you are blind. But one day? As you jam along to your favorite radio station? It occurs to you. 'Huh, they're playing a lot more of my favorite artists then they used too'. You can't really think of WHY they would do that... maybe they're finally breaking into the big times? Getting their big break?

Good for them!

You go back to jamming out. Wishing you could sing along. But you can't, not in a crowded apartment block. Heck not ANYWHERE outside of a properly sound insulated dwelling. You know better. You've HAD to know better. Got the scars on your face, ears, and neck to prove it.

Fucking muzzles.

A voice Quirk holders common horror story. You'd think of they were so damn common, they'd at least put more work into making them HUMANE. But, no! Obviously our fault for not shutting up fast enough! Or WORSE! Gasp! Possessing voices in the FIRST PLACE!

Oh how DARE we want to TALK! Such a TERRIBLE crime!

You don't really talk to like... half your relatives thanks to that. Jerks. And, yeah, granted, "Talk" is stretching it. YOU could talk until you're blue in the face. THEY wouldn't be able to hear you. Would probably get really sick though. Possibly have a nervous breakdown.

You talk in infrasound, which can cause feelings of fear or awe in folks. You know, that "horror movie" or "something Supernatural is happening" feeling. You could and HAVE made serious BANK just sitting in the back of a high end horror house, reading vaguely spooky sentences into the speakers.

People fainted. Had panic attacks. There was a late blooming Quirk activation, cause some kid legit thought he was going to DIE.

You'd run out of script and were going through take out menus at that point.

Point is? People can't HEAR you. Outside of like a handful of folks with REALLY strong hearing quirks. And your voice is LOW. Not cute at ALL. You kinda hate it. Cause, like? You LOVE to hum. Sing. Be silly. Fun, normal, LOUD, everyday stuff! And you CAN'T. Cause you'll freak people out! Hurt them!

You really kinda hate it, you know?

And your last landlord was getting progressively more shitty about your Quirk. Accusing you of using it when you WEREN'T. Based off the "vibez" and how "creepy" his shitty apartment was at night. Like? Maybe if you CLEANED THE PLACE UP?! It's creepy because it LOOKS like somebody's gonna get stabbed!

But that's the sorta shit that gets innocent people arrested. So no dice! You're OUT.

New place is nicer anyway.

And? When you move in? Cute blonde with a cuter butt. Nice~ You are looking respeeeeectfullyyyy~☆ ooh! Strong blonde! Muscles! NICE. You have a FANTASTIC day. He's chatty! Knows sign! Great laugh! Meet cute with hot new neighbor, maybe? You don't want to get ahead of yourself.

And... and when reachs past you for one of the boxes?

Oh.

The makeup hides it pretty well. But you do the same thing. Scars in the same places. Voice Quirk, huh? No wonder he sounds so nice. It'll be good, you think. To have a neighbor that GETS it.

You stop trying to hide the scarring you forgot to cover up that morning. Get on with it. You notice HIM notice. That's right~ Same hat! You both grin.

But then you slip on the stairs. Thank FUCK new neighbor's just behind you, to catch you befor you fall too far. But of course... you cry out. A yelp, a curse, a babbled apology. Forgetting once again... he can't hear you. That your probably making everything feel like a horror movie.

But... but he DOES.

His jaw's on the floor. Head cocked like a puppy trying to find the source of a new noise. Eyes wide and AMAZED. He asks if that... that "beautiful sound" is you. Your face immediately feels like it's on fire. Oh dear God, he can HEAR you?! You don't know if that's amazing or terrifying. It's... it's been so long!

You had been forced to explain WHY you couldn't, you know, TALK to him in the stairwell. He'd looked so disappointed. It was amazing and too much. You didn't know how to handle it. Or if you WANTED too. But... you think you kinda do?

You and Hizashi, the cute neighbor, kept crossing paths. He's a Teacher and part time DJ. You think. Not the teacher thing, the DJ thing. You KNOW he teaches. He comes over sometimes, to grade English papers and get reminders he can write "you suck. So, so badly. Did you even TRY?" On a child's paper.

They are kids, Hizashi. Remember~ We once, too, were dumbasses~

And you know? It's not just him. Sometimes he brings his tired friend. The one that looks like a cat on a leash. Boneless and miffed to be dragged around when he could be sleeping. You give him you couch. Bought him a kitty patterned blanket and sound canceling head phones.

You're pretty sure you're the favorite right now. Bribery for the win!

Shouta finds your favorite station "Hands Up Radio" amusing. There is definitely a joke you're not getting. You let it go and get back to your hobby. Composing. Granted, no one's ever gonna be able to HEAR it. But you want to make an album. All in infrasound.

Something BEAUTIFUL.

Your mark on the world, you know? Hizashi had even offered up his friends recording studio. Seemed REALLY into. It's been nice, having such a supportive friend. He helps make the food, picks up both your mail, grabs like half the groceries from stores on the way back from his "gig". Other stuff you both get delivered. It's pretty convenient! He even showed you the app.

You kinda hadn't realized? How lonely life was. Back when it was just you.

Then Hizashi rocked up and inserted himself into your life. Brought all his friends. Noise and life and jokes. Fun. Your gut keeps telling you you're MISSING something. That this is too good to be true. A trap. But... but why CAN'T it be true?

The happy sitcom life. No nasty hidden secrets. No suspicious evils in the dark. Just... just a Genuinely Good thing happening for once? Something NICE. A meet cute with a cute guy, that turns into a friendship, that might turn into something more?

And if the voice on the radio sounds really familar? No it doesn't. If Shouta's eyes track and track and TRACK, like a hunter's? Man has an eye Quirk, probably normal. And so WHAT if Hizashi sometimes gets... gets LOOKS in his eyes? Tilts his head at just the wrong angle? And something in your gut KNOWS.

No it doesn't.

It's just anxiety. Hizashi is your FRIEND, damn it! You refuse, refuse, REFUSE! Everything is FINE. It has to be fine! GETS to be fine! You get to have friends and singing and takeout with people who CARE about you! A LIFE! And if Hizashi is a little weird? Then he gets to be weird! You don't see ANYTHING.

You let the radio play. Another song comes on.

It's another favorite of yours.

A coincidence.

You continue listening.

[deviantplum]

"The Bachelor"

except it's me and a house full of Cryptids. And instead of eliminating one each week, we are all in a polycule and love each other immensely.